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#even if they never reached out after or anything
theyluvkarolina · 3 days
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆
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· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑ ` ` because we are living in a material world! ` ` ⊹ ‧₊˚
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃?: Yes!
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ୨୧ Charles loves to gift… well, gifts. What can he say?! It’s his love language! Well, it’s hard to get used to such luxury items when coming from such a normal life.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ୨୧ Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ୨୧ none that i know of 🩷
𝐀/𝐍 ୨୧ it’s pretty short lovely, and i’m so sorry about that but i loved the idea sm to write it today <3 as for the plus sized reader, i wasn’t too sure who to incorporate it into the story so i just didn’t put any implications on the reader’s weight, i’m so sorry! 😭 but i really hope you can still enjoy this my love!
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YOU ALWAYS FOUND joy in the simple things. Whether it be homemade meals, walks in the park, heartfelt conversations, or even something as simple as reading a book in the cozy atmosphere of your bedroom. But after meeting and eventually dating Charles, the Charles Leclerc, your world flipped upside down.
Where simple homemade dinners turned into fancy, exquisite restaurants, walks turned into rides on his expensive yacht anyone could dream of, and your cozy bedroom became hotel suites in glamorous cities around the world. It was a life anyone could dream of, but one you had never imagined for yourself.
Charles was a whirlwind of excitement, his life a constant race against time, both on and off the track. But even with the fast cars and glamour, he found solace in your simplicity. They grounded him, reminded him of the beauty in the mundane and he wouldn’t change it for the world.
Charles is a gentle lover. Always so kind and nurturing, where began to see the world through your eyes and not the rose-tinted glasses of Monaco. He found joy in the simplicity of homemade dinners together, where he eagerly helped chop vegetables and stir pots, laughing at his occasional culinary mishaps. He appreciated the walks in the park, holding hands as you talked about everything and nothing, away from the flashbulbs and fast pace of his public life.
However, most of all, he had a noticeable love language. Gifts. All sorts of gifts. Almost anything you can think of? He gave it. Handbags, necklaces, rings, bracelets, hell, even a dog! Only issue was how unnatural it felt to be receiving all of these.
· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑
“Charles, mon amour, we’re home!” You called out as you entered the shared apartment, removing your shoes before unclipping Leo’s leash, scratching the blonde pup behind the ear as you do so before he waddles his way hastily to wherever Charles is.
Usually, Charles replies in his usual cheerful voice saying where he is or walks on over to the door to place a tender kiss onto your cheek, however, he gave no reply and the only sound in the apartment was muffled whispers and rustling objects.
You hesitated for a moment, setting down your bag and Leo’s leash, before following the faint sounds deeper into the apartment. The soft murmur of Charles’s voice reached your ears, mingled with the rustling of what sounded like wrapping paper.
With your peaked curiosity, you turned the corner into the living room, where Charles sat on the floor amidst a sea of boxes and tissue paper, his brows furrowed in concentration.
Leo bounded over to the paper with a wagging tail, but Charles remained absorbed in his task. As you approached, you caught glimpses of shimmering jewelry boxes, each undoubtedly holding something precious and undoubtedly expensive.
“Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc,” you began in a surprised and scolding tone that makes him look up at you with a boyish smile on his face, “What in the world is all of this?”
"Y/N, mon amour," he began, his voice warm and earnest, "I wanted to do something special for you. Something to show you how much I love you. Like thank you for all your support you give me.“
You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest at his sincerity. Despite your reservations about his extravagant gifts, you knew they came from a place of deep affection. Still, you couldn't shake the unease that often accompanied such displays of wealth.
"Charles," you said softly, moving closer to him and kneeling beside the scattered boxes, "you don't have to give me all this… y’know how I feel about-”
“Me wanting to pay for all of this? Mon ange,” He reached out, taking your hand in his, "I know, but I want to. Please. I have more than enough money to spend and give. Besides, I would rather all these gifts go to you out of everyone.”
You sighed, feeling torn. On one hand, you cherished Charles's efforts to make you happy. On the other, you struggled with the disparity between your backgrounds and the implications of his lavish gifts.
“I appreciate everything you do,” you said sincerely, squeezing his hand gently. “But sometimes, all these... things, they make me feel uneasy. I mean- It’s a big change… I never grew up in this… lavish lifestyle that you have with all these… gifts.”
Charles glanced at you with a look of understanding, his ocean colored eyes searching yours for reassurance. He gently placed a box aside and took both of your hands in his, his touch warm and comforting.
“I know, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice steady. “I understand that this isn't what you're used to. But please believe me when I say that these gifts, they're not just about luxury or showing off. They're a way for me to express how much you mean to me, how grateful I am for you. How much I love you.”
You nodded slowly at his words, feeling the sincerity in his words. Charles had always been thoughtful and considerate, even with the whirlwind of his fast-paced life. His gestures, though grand, were always accompanied by a genuine desire to make you happy.
“I appreciate that, Charles, I really do my love,“ you replied honestly, your voice tinged with warmth and tenderness. "And I love you for it. It's just sometimes overwhelming, you know? I worry that I can't reciprocate in the same way…”
Charles gently brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, his expression softening. "Y/N, you don't need to reciprocate with gifts or lavishness. Your love, your presence, your laughter, just you—those mean everything to me. You ground me in ways I never thought possible. You take my mind off of racing, Ferrari- everything.”
He took a pause searching for the right words, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I want you to be comfortable, to feel cherished without any reservations. If these gifts make you uneasy, we can find another way for me to show my love. Maybe something simpler, more aligned with what makes us both happy.”
Your eyes widen, “Oh Charles, no, no no! If this is how you want to share your love, I’m more than happy by it. It’s just that this all takes some… adjusting is all.” you offer a smile, making Charles return the favor.
You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, feeling a surge of love and gratitude for the man who had turned your world upside down in the best possible way. Together, you knew you could navigate the complexities of your different backgrounds and find a balance that honored both of your perspectives.
“Hm… how about we hold onto some of these for holidays, hm? I don’t want to ruin all of this wonderful wrapping work you’ve done.” You offer a slight chuckle, picking up bits and pieces of the paper left around before Leo had the chance to start eating them.
“I like that idea.” Charles responds, now also picking up after his mess. “Y/N?” he starts.
“Yes, Charles?”
“I love you.”
You lean over and place a soft kiss onto his lips. “I love you too.” You replied before a whine interrupted the silence, causing you both to look down to the little Leo, waiting for some form of attention.
“Don’t worry Leo, we love you too.”
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unsteddie · 1 day
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Steve and Eddie are on again off again for years after the events of st4. It's never too serious, they have basically opposite schedules. Eddie tends bar and plays with his band, existing mostly at night. Steve gets a degree and moves onto being a school counselor, late nights are the bane of his existence. It's easier when they live together, but over the years they've moved in and out of the little place they share with Robin.
Eddie's moved cities a few times, tried living with the band, has been on and off tour. Steve moved back home when his parents divorced for about a year to help his mom out, moved in and usually quickly out with partners. He volunteered a few summers to live in low income rural areas and help with the schools summer programs.
They just never quite get the timing right to try anything other than casual. It's honestly tearing Steve apart, it's been the source of every break up he's had since meeting the man. Eddie however seems entirely unbothered.
Steve knows for a fact he's Eddie's favorite person. Even when Eddie is "seeing" someone else, Eddie's relationships are never serious, he still prefers to spend his time with Steve. He just doesn't get why Eddie doesn't want something real, but he doesn't push, doesn't wanna lose what he has
It's a full decade of this nonsense before the song Quit Playing Games With My Heart by The Backstreet Boys comes out. Steve doesn't really care much about the band, he likes boy band music well enough. It's fun and catchy and danceable. But he's picking Eddie up from the airport, back from a three month stint in LA recording and promoting with the band. And the air is tense as the lyrics spill out of the radio, and it makes Steve feel heavy.
The song ends but he's still pretty misty, it's only ten minutes back to the apartment. He can hold it back, and when they're home he'll just excuse himself and cry quietly on his bed. He's done it plenty of times before, this is no different, he's got this, he's good.
"Stevie?" Eddie asks softly, and his his voice sounds strained, like something's got him worked up too.
Steve can't respond, not with his voice, so he just sort of nods, doesn't look at Eddie, but can feel the weight of Eddie's stare.
"What is it about me that you don't wanna stick around for?" He asks quietly, but there's a solid quality to his tone, like this is a question he's resolved to ask many times, and finally got his nerve up.
Steve doesn't respond for a long time, as pieces slowly move into place. Eddie has always seemed so unaffected, even congratulating Steve when things got serious with someone else. But if he looked closely at Eddie's reactions now, in retrospect, with the way he asked his quiet question, it clicks.
Eddie never liked any of Steve's partners, always gave Steve an out of he needed it, was always a little petty about Steve's ex's after a breakup. The thought that maybe, for all these years, a decade now, they'd been wasting their time keep things casual was just...well it was fucking hilarious. Terrible and heartbreaking, sure. But it kick started ridiculous sounding giggles.
Giggles quickly snowballed into full hysterical laughter. He glanced at Eddie who looked hurt, which was absurd. Steve's laughter became unhinged, and he had to pull off the road. Eddie didn't look hurt anymore when he looked back, he looked furious, and he was wiping his cheeks. Steve hadn't seen tears, but the idea that Eddie was crying over him did nothing to quell the laughter.
The moment the car stopped Eddie threw the door open, and climbed out. Grabbing his duffle from the back seat. He managed to stomp a good distance away before Steve could get himself together enough to chase after him. He was still giggling when he caught up enough to grab the strap of Eddie's bag. He pulled it back hard enough to knock Eddie off balance, and had to reach out to steady him.
"Eddie please," he paused to laugh and catch his breath as Eddie struggled to pull out of his grip. "Please, baby, give me a minute."
Eddie froze at that. They didn't use pet names like that. Nothing so relationship-y. It was enough to make Eddie wait for him. Steve didn't let go though, terrified Eddie might run off without a proper explanation.
He didn't know how to explain it, the years of longing, the way he'd wanted to ask the same question so many times, how he ached for him. He certainly didn't know how to explain his reaction.
"I don't know why it made me laugh like that." He started once he had his breathing under control. "Some stupid pop song-" and he was laughing again because this was stupid. He threw his hands up in frustration, immediately grabbing onto Eddie again when his hands came back down.
"some stupid pop song had me on the brink of tears, because my stupid, broken heart-" more laughter, and Steve was getting really tired of this. "Aches for you, when you've, I guess-" laughter, "been feeling the same way. God Eddie how stupid are we?"
And with that the giggles were gone, his insides had gone suddenly still, and he felt the loss of the time they could have had.
"how long?" Eddie asked, quiet again, he was never this quite. When Steve looked at him now his face was hard to read, tears still brimming in his eyes, but the anger and hurt were gone.
"since the boat house probably, at least since the hospital, for sure. When you woke up and you were cuffed to the bed. The first thing you said was some joke about being flattered they thought you were that dangerous. I knew for sure then, but I think it started in the boat house." Steve flushed, his face hot and pink.
"God, no, that's ..we can't have been feeling the same way so long. Stevie, what have we been doing?" Tears were falling, both men crying on the side of the road, and Eddie was holding onto Steve now too.
"Didn't think you'd want me for real. Didn't think anyone-" Steve coughed around the lump in his throat. "Tried to move on, so many times. Never could, it always came back to you."
And Eddie was suddenly in his arms, weeping, getting tight words out between sobs. "Never. Anything. Compare. No one. Even close. Just you. My Stevie."
"Didn't catch all that sweetheart. You'll have to tell me the rest later." Steve whispered into his ear, and Eddie melted in his arms, nodding emphatically into Steve's shoulder.
The time they waisted sat heavy on Steve's shoulders, but he had Eddie now. Eventually they would joke about it, about pining after each other for a decade before getting thier shit together, but it was gonna hurt for a while still.
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mcuamerica · 1 day
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Loving Flames | Part One
Pairing: Eris x Reader
Summary: Amarantha decided to 'gift' you to Eris Vanserra to get back at Rhys. Requested by anon here.
Warnings: 18+ only, canon level violence, alludes to SA, the word whore shows up a few times, (again not proofread), let me know if anything was forgotten...
Word Count: 4.6k
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
Dividers from @saradika
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Eris met you when you were 35, years after the war. It was at a High Lords meeting, with your father bringing you along to introduce you to the court. It snapped for Eris in that moment.
You were wearing a spectacular navy blue and silver gown, fabric attached to your shoulders to make it look like a cape. Your wings were tucked in tight behind you to keep from bumping into anyone.
He tried to speak to you that night, tell you about the bond, but his father pulled him away quickly and he didn’t see you again.
The next time he saw you, however, you were by Rhysand’s side in all black, mourning the loss of your father and your mother. And your wings. While Tamlin’s brothers didn’t kill you, they almost did. Taking time with you is what allowed you to live, unfortunately for you.
Eris tried approaching you again, needing to say at least something to you. This time, Azriel, the ever obedient guard dog, growled and told him to leave. These ceremonies were for friends only. Which the Autumn Court was not. That night, Eris gave up on the idea that you and him could be together. He decided to leave you be, and avoid you at all cost.
But then Amarantha came sweeping in. Rhysand brought you to the ball with all of the High Lords when she took their powers. As since Rhysand’s father killed Tamlin’s, she wanted to punish him more than just taking him to bed.
“Beron, which one of these is your heir?” She asked, perched atop the throne. You were standing close to Rhys, his arm around your back. Eris, even though the bond was buried deep down, could feel the nerves radiating down that bridge. You were terrified. That she was going to hurt you. Or Rhys. And what better way than letting your enemy do it or you.
“I am,” Eris spoke before his father could utter a word. His father shot him a deadly look, but Amarantha’s smile widened.
“Good. I’m gifting her to you.” She said and smirked, nodding towards you.
Your eyes widened. Rhys looked to Eris with an even deadlier look than his father, almost saying ‘if you hurt her, you will be killed slowly and I’ll enjoy it.’ Eris stepped forward, soliciting a growl to come from deep within Rhys’s throat.
“Easy, bat, I will be gentle.” He said, unable to drop the mask. He forced his hand to remain steady as he reached it out to you.
You shrunk closer to Rhysand, listening as he leaned down and whispered something not even fae eyes could detect. You looked up to Rhys with pleading eyes.
“Hurry, now, I do not have all day.” Amarantha said, staring at her nails as if she were bored.
With a final nod from Rhysand, you shakily took Eris’s hand.
He did not pull you, instead allowing you to walk with him back to where his father and brothers stood. After that that, he let go of your hand. He promised himself he would protect you, even if you all thought he was a monster. He would never harm you, and never make you do anything you didn’t want to. Not as long as he could help it. His mate. You were under his protection now, and he would be damned if he let anyone harm you ever again.
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Deciding to make you suffer even more, since you were the reason Rhysand knew about Tamlin’s brothers hurting you, Amarantha assigned you to a tiny room connected to Eris’s. It didn’t have a fireplace, and it barely fit the small bed that was in it. There was a small room filled with revealing clothing. Specially placed there so you could please Eris, according to her.
But months went by and he did not touch you. He would escort you to court dinners, offering you more food than the small portion you were allowed. You never accepted, eyes always darting for your brother to bring you some sort of comfort. But, Rhys was barely there. If he was, his eyes were cast downwards as Amarantha stroked his arm or his leg, making it clear that Rhys was her obedient dog, her whore. It made you sick to your stomach, but you knew he did it to keep your family safe. So maybe one day you could return to the sanctuary of Velaris.
You flinched slightly as Eris rested a hand on top of yours. “You need to eat, my lady,” he whispered. What seemed to be concern filled his eyes.
“So you can treat me like a pet?” You asked, swallowing your fear.
“So you can survive this.” He said. “I-“ he glanced up as Amarantha stood up to make an announcement. “I will come to your room tonight and I want you to have strength.” He said before she began to speak.
A chill ran down your spine at the thought of what you imagined on your head. You looked down to your plate, taking a small bite of the food. You were no good if you starved yourself. And if you didn’t please Eris like he wanted to, either he or Amarantha would punish you. Probably in front of your brother. Or make him do it.
Eris hummed in agreement to your action, before his attention looked towards Amarantha.
That night, you were shivering in your bedroom. The light set of pajamas doing nothing to keep you warm in the cool room, surrounded by nothing but stone. You perked your head up when the door connecting to Eris’s room opened. He normally used the main one connected to the hall, but tonight he must have wanted to be discrete. Bile rose on your throat in anticipation of what was about to happen, tears welling in your eyes as you body shook from the cold.
“I’m taking you to see your brother.” Eris said quietly. You looked at him, sitting up even more as you curled into yourself more.
“Why?” You asked
Eris’s heart broke at the sight of you, shivering from the cold and near tears from what you imagined he would do. He could be the villain in your story as long as he could keep you safe. But he needed you sane, as well. He would not let you deteriorate under this gods-forsaken mountain.
“Did you not hear Amarantha? She is sending Rhys to do scouting for the next few months. And I’d like for you to get a proper goodbye.” Eris said. “Here,” he said, pulling out the long, wool lined robe for you. “You’ll be warmer in this.” He even warmed it up with his internal heat before he came in here.
You slowly reached out, grabbing it before wrapping it around your body. He saw as you sunk into its warmth, wish that it was him you could find such comfort in.
He held out a hand and you slowly took it. “I’ll need to act like I’m taking you somewhere else, so just stay close and don’t talk.” He whispered before wrapping an arm around your waist. While you would have normally recoiled, you could only lean further into his body heat, much warmer than any you’ve know before. You assumed it was his internal flames burning under his skin, maybe causing his temperature to be much warmer than others. It must have been a nice luxury to have. Though, you were certain he had a fireplace in his room. Not that it would be hard for him to conjure flame anyway.
Eris stole glances at you, hoping that this would make you happier. You hadn’t seen Rhys, at least not at a distance where you could embrace or talk, for at least a year. But Eris knew Rhys would take your unwillingness to eat as Eris forbidding it, or some other malicious thing. Your eyes were sunken, each piece of clothing hung from your body looser as the days passed. You looked tired, exhausted, as if someone was draining the life force from you. No matter how many times Eris had asked, you were never allowed outside with him. Not even on one of the upper balconies. Your punishment for being alive while her friend was dead. It seemed Amarantha wanted to punish you more than Rhys. And Eris was just glad he could be there to protect you from most of her wrath, claiming that his gift shouldn’t be harmed. The things she threatened to do… Eris hoped she wouldn’t figure out you were his mate. Because if she did… even if her and Beron were allies, Eris didn’t think she would spare you much longer.
Eris knocked on a door, one of the shadow wraiths opening it. Your lips turned into a gentle smile as you greeted Nuala, happy to see a familiar face.
At the site of you, Nuala stepped aside. Rhys had bruises all around his neck, where he was staring at them in the mirror. You swallowed and looked up at Eris.
“Five minutes.” He said and stepped back, nodding at you to go in. You tentatively took a step inside, and once you were over the threshold, Nuala shut the door. Rhys turned, his eyes widening as he finally took account of who was in the room.
“(Y/N),” he breathed out rushing over to you. He looked you over, frowning at how poorly you looked. He cupped your cheeks and searched your eyes. Searching for the carefree little sister he knew. “Are you okay? How did you get here?” He asked.
Rhys must have put a shield around the room before Nuala opened the door, if he did not know Eris brought you here.
“I’m fine… I wanted to say goodbye. You are leaving for the outside soon.” You said, your voice quiet and weak. If Amarantha was trying to torture Rhys, she was doing a good job at it.
“Has he hurt you?” He asked.
You shook your head, wanting to say how well Eris was treating you. But the look on Rhys’s eyes told you he wouldn’t believe you. Maybe you needed to make more of an effort to be involved in this ridiculous, cruel court. But would that make you any better than Beron? Would it help you? Would it help your brother?
Rhys pulled you in for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his chest, burying your head in it. “Please come back.” You whispered, holding him tighter.
“I will never leave you here.” He whispered, rubbing your back. “And I will do everything I can to get you away from him.” He said as he pulled away.
“Did Amarantha do this?” You asked as you traced the small circular bruises on his neck.
“She likes to mark her whores.”
You frowned, looking up at the cold look in his eyes. “I’m proud of you.” You whispered. “I want you to know that… you are doing what is right for our family. And I’m so proud that I can call you my brother.”
You could see the words didn’t hit like you wanted them to… and your heart sank at the thought of Rhys not thinking he was doing enough. Or that he wasn’t good enough. “I will see you soon, (Y/N).” He said, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.
You glanced at the time on the clock, then noticed Rhys had a balcony to go outside. “Fly for me, brother.” You whispered before stepping back. “I will see you soon.” You said before turning around and walking out of the room. You gave Nuala another smile before finding Eris with his back against the opposite hallway wall.
You walked up to him and took a quiet, internal breath. “I’d like new clothes.” You said to him.
His rose his eyebrows, shocked at your sudden urge to talk to him. “Excuse me?” It came out more rude than he meant it, but didn’t let that show.
“I-“ you started and then took a visible deep breath. “If I am to be your gift, I want to be presentable. I would like new clothes.” You said. You had no intention of doing anything for Eris, and the more you could avoid him, the better. But if Amarantha thought Eris favored you, maybe she would let you out. Maybe you could fool her into thinking you were enjoying it. And maybe that would be enough for her to let you leave your room by yourself.
“Okay.” Eris said.
It was your turn to be shocked. You thought you would need to convince him a lot more than that.
“Give me a list of clothes you’d like, and I’ll see what I can do.” He answered, then held out his arm. “Now come, you must be tired.” He said.
You tentatively took his arm, still slightly shocked that he didn’t dismiss you. This male that you knew to be cruel and abusive was nothing but kind, gentle, and patient with you. You started to piece together the times you interacted with him, and couldn’t think of a single time were he was mean. Maybe distant, cold, but plenty of faeries were like that. Your brother was like that a lot of the times. It was a mask to keep him safe. Maybe Eris was the same. Maybe you could trust him.
You faltered as he did not stop at your door, but kept walking a few more steps to his. You looked up at him and watched as he opened the door and lead you inside. Maybe you didn’t escape what you dreaded earlier today.
“It’s warmer in here. If you’d like, you can sleep in here. I can take your room.” He said.
You frowned. “What?”
“Every time I see you, you are freezing. And it’s because Amarantha put you in a room that is meant to be a cooler. Why it’s attached to a bedroom, I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s the proper place for the Princess of the Night Court to sleep.”
“But… won’t you get cold?” You asked, glancing to the door that connected the rooms.
“I run hot.” He said, a slight smirk coming to his lips.
“Why are you being nice to me?” You asked.
“Maybe it will be beneficial to me later on.” He said and shrugged. “But I cannot bring myself to harm you.” He said. “In anyway.”
And he showed it. From then on, you stayed in his room. Soon enough, you offered him to come to your room too. Even with the fire, you were still cold. You supposed it was the lack of food, of sunlight, of fresh air. It was not good for your body. So, you asked him to join you in the bed. Just to sleep. And he obliged, staying on his side of the bed. Until one night, where you were particularly cold after a ‘winter’ ball was thrown.
You turned over to Eris, who seemed to be asleep. You were in an oversized sweater and some loose pants. Courtesy of your wardrobe he provided for you. “Eris?” You whispered.
His head turned towards you as he opened one eye, a small smile coming to his lips.
He would act like this whenever you were alone. When no one could see you, he would show you a soft side. A side that had you wondering where all the cruel things said about him came from. This couldn’t be the same male that left your cousin for dead in the Autumn forest. He was so different than how Mor described him. If he was helping you, why wouldn’t he help her?
“Yes, princess?” He asked.
You weren’t even technically a princess, but he insisted on using the nickname. You were surprised it didn’t bother you.
“Can you… make the fire warmer? I’m cold.” You said quietly.
His eyes flickered to the burning hearth before looking back at you. “Can I try something before?” He asked.
You searched his eyes and, as usual, found no malice. Maybe a hint of mischief, if you detected it correctly. You gave him a nod, narrowing his eyes as he asked for you to turn on your side. Your back facing him.
“Do you trust me?” He asked when he noticed your hesitance. You paused at the question. You’ve been asking yourself the same thing for months. Almost a year now. Could you trust Eris? “Remember what I said? I won’t hurt you.” He said.
You slowly took a deep breath, turning your body so your back was facing him. You tensed up when you felt him shift on the bed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling her closer to his warm body. “What- what are you doing?” You asked.
“I’m going to make you warm.” He whispered in l your ear, the breath sending a shiver down your spine. In the best way.
Suddenly, you felt his hand settling on your bicep, and your arm instantly warmed up. You relaxed into the warm, smiling to yourself.
“Is this better?” He asked, rubbing your arm up and done as he held you close.
“Much.” You answered, even leaning into his chest more.
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Eris became your anchor Under the Mountain after that. You often found yourself clutching his bicep, not wanting to be far from him. He stayed true to his word. He would not hurt you. And, apparently, he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt you either. One day, you were in the throne room as the court reveled, sitting on a loveseat while you waited for Eris to bring you something to drink. One particularly drunk made stumbled his way to sit next to you and got too close for your liking. Right as he was about to wrap an arm around you, Eris hauled him out of the seat. He pushed him back and said something with a growl you couldn’t hear, and then the male was running out of the room. Not many males approached you after that.
Maybe it was because your brother was gone for so long, or maybe it was because Eris was genuine to you. Even when you were out of the room, when he wore that cool uninterested mask, he was gentle with you. His touch was never too tight or too harsh. Was never too high or too low. He made you comfortable. You were starting to like him. As a friend, at least.
For the next 40 years, you were always around him. Even when Amarantha gave you more freedom, you wanted to be near Eris. Rhys started to notice, but didn't say anything as it was only apparent for your affection to his enemy before Summer, Winter, and Day rebelled. And then Amarantha's reign became increasingly strict. With only High Lord dead, and a new one taking his place, there was more tension than ever. Especially because anyone who was caught doing anything suspicious was whipped or tortured in front of the court. Sometimes, your brother would be the one to hold their minds and do it.
However, after finding out that Autumn and Night had nothing to do with the rebellion, she decided to be nice one day and allow you to the upper levels. She gave you in particular one rule, do not go outside. You couldn't help but watch as your brother went out on one balcony. And on the other, Beron and his sons were laughing. Actually laughing. It was only one month when the High Lord of Summer was killed and a bunch of Winter children were closed. Children. And Amarantha was celebrating you all.
Eris, however, was sat across from you on the couch. He noticed the way you longed to go outside, realizing while he was allowed out to visit his court with his father, you were stuck Under the Mountain. You hadn't been outside in more than 40 years.
"You should go, celebrate." You muttered, motioning to his family. "You may not be able to leave for along time." You said, frowning as you looked to your hands.
"I'm just fine in here." Eris said, resisting the urge to lean over and grab your hand. While you never crossed a line of being intimate, or anywhere near it, you had become friendly with Eris. You were more than glad to curl into his side at night, hold his hand at the dining table, or grab his arm while you walked around the passageways.
Before you could suggest it again, one of Eris's brothers peeked his head into the room. "Eris, bring your whore in here." He said.
You internally winced at the term, and Eris glared at his brother. While many people had called you the same, Eris normally corrected them. Especially his brothers.
"She isn't my whore." He growled out. "And if you call her that one more time, Sol, and I will rip your throat out." He said. "Besides, you know she can't go outside."
"Ah, Amarantha will never know." Sol said and smirked. "We'll distract the bat, you take her out there for some alone time." He said, making his way over to the balcony where Rhys was standing. As Sol pulled him inside, you could visibly see and hear Rhys's growl. He didn't want to be here, but if he could watch you amongst the Vanserras, he would.
"Sol-" Eris called out but groaned when him and one of the other brothers pushed Rhys out to talk to Beron and the Lady of Autumn. About what, you didn't really care. You stayed in your seat, taking a deep breath.
"I could at least open the door." He said and stood up, going over to the free balcony and opening the door to let in the breeze. You stood up, standing in front of the threshold. You closed your eyes as you felt the wind on your face, even if it was light.
The smile that came to your lips took Eris's breath away. Even in this terrible place, you could still find small bits of joy.
You looked down at the gap between you and the rest of the world, Eris standing on the other side. "Thank you." You said quietly to him, holding out your hand for him to take. He squeezed your hand, fighting the urge to pull you over the threshold and into his chest. He could image your giggle and scolding before you stepped back into the room. But before he could answer you, Amarantha burst through the doors with two of her sentries.
"Seems like the little princess can't follow the rules... Ah, Eris, are you trying to disobey my command?" She asked.
Your eyes widened and you immediately dropped Eris's hand. "I didn't go outside." You said quickly.
"No, but you were about to. And Eris was going to help you." She said. Rhys and the others came in.
"Now that I ponder it, I do remember hearing about the two of you sneaking around the passage ways months ago. That wasn't to spy, was it?" She asked. "Acting as lust-crazed fools?"
You never once showed any interest in Eris like that, and yet everyone just assumed the two of you were sleeping together. Or more like Eris was fucking you as he pleased.
"Nothing to say? Too bad." She said and nodded towards the sentries, one of them grabbing you and the other grabbing Eris. Rhys lunged forward to try and protect you, but Eris's brother's grabbed him.
"Relax, bastard, no one's going to hurt the princess." Sol teased.
"What is the meaning of this, my queen?" Beron asked, the ever-loving servant. His wife next to him looked completely uninterested other than a hint of worry for her son.
"We will make sure Eris and the princess never sneak around again." She said, giving a small wave before walking out of the room.
Before you knew it, you were standing in the throne room with Eris on his knees. One of Amarantha's sentries had a whip in his hands. "This is what you get for disobeying my command. And you get to watch princess, for luring him like you did the former High Lord of Spring." She said.
You looked at Eris, then at Rhys, pleading him with your eyes to do something, anything to stop this from happening. Rhys just tilted his head and stood beside Amarantha. Of course he thought Eris tried to pull you out and he would gladly see Eris punished over you.
The sound of the whip rang out, skin ripping underneath it. Beron and his other sons stood, stoically watching the punishment.
"How many month ago was it? 5? You've been sneaking around 5 months?" She asked. You weren't even sneaking around, you were simply walking. "5 more." She said and you struggled against the sentries holding you back. "Oh and another 5 for all those months lying to me." She said.
More sounds of the whip. More skin ripping. You watched as Eris clenched his teeth, never yielding a yell or scream. Like he had endured this before. You, on the other hand, were silently crying. You desperately tried to hold back your tears, but you couldn't.
After the final sound of the whip crack rang out, Eris sagged to the floor. "And 10 more, because I don't like hurting my friends." She said.
"Stop!" You screamed, an instinctual tug at your gut telling you he would bleed out if he received any more. "I'll do anything, stop this. Eris didn't do anything wrong." You begged, the sentries yanking you back as your legs almost gave out from under you.
Rhys shot you a look that essentially told you to shut your mouth, but you didn't see it. You were staring into Amarantha's cold eyes.
"Anything?" She asked. When you let out a whimper and nodded, a side smirk came to her red lips. "What about agreeing to be locked in sweet Eris's room under I die?" She asked. "Seems like a fair trade, since you disobeyed my command of not going outside. And you can't roam the halls with him either."
You let out a gulp, hearing a small whisper from Eris telling you not to do it. "So long as you, or anyone of your behalf, hurts him again. I will stay in his room." You said.
"Unless I command you out to court, you will stay in his room. And I, nor anyone on my behalf, will not hurt him. Until I die." She said.
You stood up straighter, feeling Rhys's eyes on you. "We have a bargain." You said.
"That we do." She said as you used your magic to imprint a tattoo on your back, right where Eris's scars would be. In doing so, you did the same for Amarantha, who only smirked more. "Take him to a healer. And take her to the room." She said. You stumbled as they pushed you towards the giant doors. You watched as Eris's sagging body was hauled up by his brothers, nearly sobbing at the sight of him.
As the sentries pushed you through Eris's room's door and shut it behind you, you suddenly realized what you agreed to. You were going to be trapped in this room forever. Unless she wanted to torment you more. Or she died.
What did you just do?
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A/N: This was so much longer than I expected and it's not even finished yet.. There will be at least another part! Hope you all enjoyed!
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Sick
Alexia Putellas x reader
Warnings: really shit short writing I’m so tired I don’t know if I spelled anything correctly
The scent of sweat and determination hung heavy in the air as you watched Alexia storm past the practice field. Her fiery ponytail bounced with every frustrated puff of her breath. Since you joined the Barça Femení squad, You'd known she was stubborn. It was practically a team legend. But dating her, a fiercely competitive Catalonian had brought it home in a whole new way.
Her ACL injury had been a sucker punch. Watching her, the captain, the heart and soul of the team, reduced to frustrated sideline observations was agonising. Every missed practice, every specialist appointment, fuelled the inferno within her. The pressure of leading her childhood team to another championship, now seemingly out of reach, only added to the inferno.
One evening, you found her in the physiotherapy room, a grimace on her face as she battled through a particularly gruelling exercise. Sweat beaded on her forehead, mirroring the frustration in her eyes.
"Hey," you said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You're pushing yourself too hard."
She shot you a fiery look. "I have to be ready. The team needs me."
"They do," you agreed, "But not broken. Take a breath, Alexia. What good are you to them if you re-injure yourself?"
Her jaw clenched, but after a moment, she released a shaky breath. "It's just... this is my team. I've been dreaming of this championship since I was a kid."
You pulled up a chair beside her. "I know, and nobody wants it more than you. But trust the process, trust your teammates.They're holding down the fort while you heal."
There was a flicker of doubt in her eyes, a vulnerability you hadn't seen before. It ignited a fierce protectiveness in you. You knew her drive, and her talent, but right now, she needed someone to remind her of her strength beyond the field.
"We'll get you back out there, stronger than ever," you vowed, squeezing her hand. "But for now," you leaned in, brushing a kiss to her temple, "let your body heal."
The road to recovery was long. There were setbacks, tears, and moments of despair. But through it all, you were her rock, her cheerleader, and sometimes, the voice of reason. Slowly, steadily, Alexia fought her way back. The fire in her eyes never died, but it was tempered with a newfound patience, a trust in her body and her team.
But now as you sit in the changing rooms tying your boots and watching Alexia wince at the noise of the room and Mapi's usual giddy persona you can't help but start to worry again, like yo had all those months ago.
You tugged your laces tighter, the knot mirroring the knot of worry tightening in your stomach. Glancing at Alexia across the room, you saw her wince at Mapi's booming laugh, a stark contrast to the fire that usually burned in her eyes. Here you were, months after her injury, and the old anxieties bubbled back up.
Mapi, oblivious, launched into a story about a stray cat she'd befriended, her voice bouncing off the lockers. Alexia tried to force a smile, but it looked more like a grimace. You knew the changing room noise, usually a comforting pre-game buzz, was likely an assault on her still-healing knee.
Maybe it was the flashbacks to those grueling physiotherapy sessions, or the memory of the desperation in her voice when she'd pushed herself too hard. Whatever it was, a familiar protectiveness washed over you. You stood, boots slapping against the tile floor, and made your way over to her.
"Hey," you said softly, crouching beside her. "Need a minute?"
Alexia met your gaze, her usual fierceness replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. "Just a little overwhelmed," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
You squeezed her hand, the warmth a silent reassurance. "It's okay to feel that way. Just breathe, and focus on yourself. We'll get you in the zone."
Alexia brought your hand to her lips kissing your knuckles gently "Gracias mi amor."
You thought once Alexia got on to the field and started to train that her head would clear and she would be ok instead you notice she's struggling, you look around to see if any of your other teammates notice but they don't seem to or they just ignore it to scared to say anything in fear of getting their head torn off by the captain.
Alexia is slow, on every pass, every shot and goal and every decision she makes during training. Like previously you are the only one who seems to notice but you, only you don't get to say anything to the older girl until the water break.
Placing your hand on her shoulder you give it a squeeze turning her to face you, you frown at the sight. Alexia's dead eyes and scrunched forehead, she's in pain and you panic thinking it's her knee cursing the thought that you should have caught it sooner, only you are surprised when your stubborn, competitive, professional athlete, your captain throws herself into your arms.
You don't hesitate or care about the sweat dripping off the taller girl you wrap your arms around her just as tight "Ale, you feeling ok." Alexia buries her head further into the crook of your neck "My head and throat hurt, I...I want to go home amor." You stoke Alexia's hair nodding "Ok if you're sure Ale."
You race off to tell Jonatan who looks more concerned than anything at the thought of stoic and strong Alexia looking to leave training early. Once you get back to Alexia she hides away in your neck as you walk her into the changing rooms, putting her in your cubby and gathering your things.
Alexia doesn't talk for the entire ride home instead she simply holds your hand right until the minute you have to get out of the car. Alexia isn't clingy she's never been clingy in fact when she tore her ACL she pushed you away, time and time again so this behaviour is odd and a little worrying.
You run Alexia a cool bath and gently help her decompress from training even if it was only short, before picking out some comfy clothes for her to wear and getting her ready for a lazy day.
You and Alexia crash on the couch the midfielder lying on top of you coughing and growing every now and again while you try to soothe her.
"Come on Ale, let's go get you some medicine." You try to coax her into the kitchen to take her medicine but you forget momentarily that no matter how. dedicated your girlfriend is to football and Barcelona she's also a big kid that you have to look after more times than not. This is one of those many times.
Alexia refuses to take her medicine stating it doesn't taste nice and you can't help but let out a huff and roll your eyes "Ale please if you want to be better then you have to take them." Alexia shakes her head and so you have to come up with a solution "Take the medicine and i'll give you a kiss, don't take the medicine and you don't get to see me naked for a very long time."
Alexia looks at you shocked "How long is a long time amor." You smile slightly " Until I see fit." Alexia doesn't hesitate any longer instead taking the medication from your hand and taking it herself before she moves forward to kiss you only for you to step back "Wow, I didn't say I'd kiss you now I'm not getting sick." Alexia let's out a huff pulling you to the couch.
Once you are lying down Alexia goes to ly on top of you once more before lunging her head forward and kissing you softly. "It's only a matter of time till you get sick amor, i thought I'd just speed up the process, that way we can do it together, Vale." You let out a soft laugh lying back down. Of course your girlfriend wouldn't suffer alone no no she had to bring you down to rolling your eyes you pulled out your phone firing off a text to Jonatan.
"what are you doing Amor?." Alexia asked moving her head to see better "Calling us in sick for the rest of the week seen as how you wouldn't suffer alone." Alexia smiled "why would I do that when I can have you."
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The Ones We Love The Most
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summary⸻The ones that we love the most, are often the ones who destroy us
pairing⸻Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader
warnings⸻Mentions of death, grief and violence
divider by @princessbellecerise
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The moon was high in the sky by the time you finally managed to sneak out, adrenaline running through your veins as you tiptoed to the dragon pit and mounted Starfyre.
You had claimed the dragon when you were only six, and by now she was more than in tune with your emotions. She felt everything that you felt—including your pain, your anger, and your desperation for her to be quiet at the moment.
It was well past the hour of the ghost, and when you had slipped from you bed chamber you had prayed to the Gods that no one would catch you.
Guards had been doubled ever since the incident had taken place. Queen Rhaenyra, who just so happened to be your stepmother, had implemented a curfew and she forbade any of her children from leaving after a certain time.
If anyone from your family found you or if they knew where you were going, you’d never be allowed out of the castle again.
Daemon would surely lock you up for the rest of your days if he knew and Rhaenyra, in her grief, would call you a traitor.
You certainly weren’t, as you loved your family more than anything in the world but there was a desperate need in your heart go where you had been called.
Though it pained you to say, you never could resist him. All your life you had spent countless amount of time running after him every time he summoned you, chasing him like some child apprehending a wild duckling.
You wanted to capture him in your heart, take him in and care for him more than you should. He did not belong to you, but you wanted him to. All your life, you had only ever wanted to love him and support him but now…
Now he had betrayed you in the worst way possible way.
Now, Aemond was a Kinslayer, an animal that had lashed out and killed your baby brother of all people. Nothing would ever make up for the death of your dear brother, Lucerys, and when you heard what Aemond had done, you collapsed.
You had always known him to be rough, to be callous and shut off from the world. Even when you first started seeing each other under the secret of night, you could tell that even his affection for you did not erase the bitterness he felt, especially for your brother.
Aemond had never once gotten over what Lucerys did to his eye and to say that you blamed him would be a lie.
You weren’t there that night but you could only imagine the damage that does to someone, accident or not.
You knew it was one of his biggest insecurities; he had confided in you and told you so. What Luke did had nearly destroyed Aemond, but what Aemond did to your brother in turn was worse.
Killing Luke was simply unforgivable. It was monstrous; and it was vile. It was an insult to the gods and everything that they stood for and most of all, it was an insult to you.
All you had ever done was love Aemond. You never wanted anything else or expected anything from him. You accepted him and loved even the worst parts that his own mother could not, and now…
Part of you wondered why you were even going to do this.
When he first sent you that raven, asking you to meet him in the place only the two of you knew of, you had raged and cursed him with the most vile of profanities.
Your bedchambers and everything within throwing reach had witnessed the extent of your rage, as you could not believe the sheer audacity that Aemond Targaryen carried.
How dare he ask to see you after what he had done? How dare he even contact you, how dare he even plead for the opportunity to explain when everything you needed to know was clear?
Aemond had led a chase on Lucerys that resulted in his death.
He had murdered your baby brother in cold blood, chased him down like an animal on a war dragon. It did not take a scholar to put the pieces of what happened together. The evidence of Aemond’s monstrosities laid in the broken wings of Arrax, and the fact that the only thing Rhaenyra found of Lucerys was his clock.
And yet…
All of the rage, all of the pain and the sorrow that you felt could not compare to the sheer amount of desperation that you carried, wanting to know how the hell everything turned so sour, so fast.
One minute you were sneaking around with Aemond, planning to run away together to escape the impending war your families were planning and then next you were receiving the news of his Kinslaying from a broken Jacaerys.
It was only your wish for answers that made you hop on your dragon and fulfill Aemond’s foolish request. You were going to meet with him and you were going to demand that he tell you what happened; demand that he spill every detail about what he did to Lucerys and why.
Why would he do such a thing when freedom was right there for the both of you? Why would he risk everything; war, death, and you just to commit the most evil of all crimes? Did you simply not matter to him?
Did he not love you like he claimed to? Did he lie to you every single time he made love to you, whispering about how much he could not wait to marry you?
You told yourself that knowing the truth would be the only way to set you free from your misery. Every day you wondered what it had been like—how Aemond had even gotten to that moment and what in the hell was he thinking.
You wondered about his mindset and what could have drove him to do such a thing. And worst of all you wondered about poor Luke, about how he was in his final moments.
It pained you to think that he must have been scared, and the thought of him and Arrax fleeing for their lives with no help in sight spread an ache through your chest that stole the very air from your lungs.
Luke was only four and ten, and it was bad enough to see the broken body of Arrax. You could not imagine the damage that Vhagar had done to him, nor did you want to. The one time you tried you had sent yourself into a panic and Maester Gerard’s had to sedate you with an emergency dose of Milk of the Poppy.
It was an awful thing for one’s mind to try and conjure up, but still, you needed to know.
The answers you seeked only laid with one person; Aemond the Kinslayer; the murderer and the usurper.
You told yourself that needing answers or some type of closure to Lucerys’ death was the only reason you were flying to meet him.
In the black of night, with the wind blowing on your face and the moon shining down on you, you tried to push away any unwanted feelings that might have also been influencing you, feelings that were wrapped in guilt and pushed to the deepest depths of your heart—but they were still feelings no less.
You wondered briefly if these feelings that you still harbored for Aemond also had a role in wanting to meet him; wanting to see him even after everything he’s done.
It made you angry inside to think that the answer might have been yes, that there was another reason for you responding to his letter. It made you rage at yourself for being so stupid; for being so naive as to still have love for the man that killed your brother.
If Lucerys could see you now, you wondered if he would blame you. You wondered if seeing his sweet older sister, who he had always looked up to from the day you met, flying to meet the man who killed him would crush him. You wondered if he’d be disappointed in you, or if he’d understand.
Luke had always been such a sweet, sensible boy. Part of you knew that if he was alive, he’d never blame you for anything.
But still, you wondered if maybe he’d ever forgive you. Or if maybe you’d ever be able to forgive yourself for what you were about to do.
As the night flew by, you wondered all of these things.
Mountains came and went, valley peaked and disappeared in the distance. It was hard to see in the darkness but you had flown in secret to this place so often that it was impossible to get lost. Starfyre could sense your emotions and you knew she’d know exactly where to take you. Dragons had a unique ability to read their rider and soon, the steady beat of your dragon’s wings matched the pounding of your heart as you flew closer and closer towards The Gullet, already able to see the shadow of a monster in the distance.
As if she could sense it as well, which you knew she could as she was a dragon, Starfyre began to whine and slowly make her descent.
Her wings flapped and the sand that occupied the small beach that you and Aemond had discovered flew up in a frenzy underneath her weight.
Starfyre screeched as another creature made its presence known in the darkness, and as soon as you stepped foot onto the sand, she backed away.
You didn’t bother to try and soothe her because everything you felt, she did as well and you knew that there was no taming the flurry of emotions in your chest. A mixture of sadness, anger and grief ran its way through your veins, but one thing that you did lack was fear.
If anything, Starfyre was way smarter than you for wanting to run at the sight of danger because it was more than you could say.
Despite your heartbeat circling through your eardrums, and despite all of the emotions that you felt about being there, you still weren’t afraid as walked through the darkness of the night.
Sand crunched underneath your boots and the howl of the ocean had you hugging yourself tighter. Waves crashed upon waves and with sorrow, you wondered if one of them might have been carrying Lucerys.
What a twist of fate that would be; having his body wash on the shore right in front of his killer. The irony of that would have rivaled the excruciating pain you would have felt if that was to happen, but deep down you knew that it wouldn’t.
Lucerys had been eaten, swallowed whole by the very monster that you gazed upon now.
Despite everything, you did not feel fear as you looked at Vhagar, a bittersweet emotion filling your chest.
Once upon she had been your favorite dragon in the world. Back when you were a child, back when everything was okay, Vhagar had been the one to introduce you to dragon riding.
Your mother, the late Lady Laena, used to take you, Baela and Rhaena with her before you had dragons of your own. You had fond memories of you clinging to your mother as you rode through the skies, laugher and happiness filling the atmosphere.
Back then, you never would have imagined that your mother would die and the man that claimed Vhagar next would lose an eye doing so. You certainly did not ever imagine holding Vhagar in such distain, looking at her in disgust as the creature roared and hissed towards the skies.
Once upon a time she was your favorite dragon in the world. Now, she would forever be known by you as the monster that killed your brother.
There would be no more fond memories when you thought about her. Only fire and death and the regret that it wasn’t you she faced on the night of Luke’s death.
If Starfyre had been the one flying through the storm that night, much would have been different. She was faster and older than Arrax, and she would have been able to hold her own against the killers that were pursing her. And, if it had been you who faced Aemond that night, much would have changed.
Luke would still be alive and the life that you had planned with Aemond would be happening right now. You’d be living in a dream right now instead of the nightmare that you couldn’t seem to wake up from.
But, you had insisted that you be the one who carried that message to Lady Jeyne, under the guise that a woman might earn her trust easier but secretly it was because you wished for Lucerys to take the shorter, safer route.
You had seen how nervous he was and when you announced that you’d take the longer route to the Eyrie, the relief on his and Rhaenyra’s face was evident. You thought you were doing Luke a favor by letting him fly to Storm’s End. Never did any of you imagine that Aemond would be there waiting for him, and never did you imagine coming home to the news everything had gone wrong.
If your brother’s shorter, “safer,” flight had gone better, much would have been different.
He would’ve been alive, and you…you would have been happy.
But alas, the Gods take just as they give. You should have known that the life you were planning with Aemond wasn’t going to work out. The both of you abandoning you duties to be with each was a fairy dream; the wishings of dumb kids who knew nothing about the world.
You could not run from your fates any faster than your brother could have outrun his death.
It was inevitable; and now as you stood in front of the one who ruined it all, the one who took your life of happiness and traded it for the satisfaction of killing your kin instead, you did not know what to say.
For what could you say to the monster that killed your brother, when he wore the face of the one you loved the most?
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piratefishmama · 3 days
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Just ONE chance
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Stephanie Harrington never intended to be a whole presence online.
She hadn’t even really understood the whole thing at first, it didn’t exist when she was a kid! An if it did it sure as hell wasn’t in every nook and cranny of the globe like it now seemed to be. Kids with iPads, hands glued to phones, six year olds who simply had to have the latest Apple thing.
It was all Dustin’s idea. King of the Gadget. Overseer of all things technology. Gargantuan nerd. Stevie’s little brother.
Not biologically, Claudia, Dustin’s mother had basically adopted Stevie when her own parents had tragically lost control of the wheel during a storm and wrapped their car around a tree back when Stevie was still a teenager. Back when Stevie was still Dustin’s regular babysitter and very suddenly found herself alone having been babysitting when the news reached her.
They’d been coming back from a business trip that she hadn’t been able to go with them on because of school. They’d been so close to home. She’d heard the sirens. They’d been that close.
It was fine though, in one fell swoop, yes she lost her parents, but she gained Claudia, and Dustin, and that was enough, because she sure as hell didn’t get anything else from them. It was all swallowed up, snatched away by her parents business partners because people are sharks and she just… wasn’t prepared to fight them on any of it, especially not when her parents had stupidly left her without a will.
Apparently they believed they’d live forever! The money vanished, the house was sold, she was left with nothing.
With growing up in the Henderson house, came choices, some great, some really stupid, and some that’d led to the very happy accident of Rosie.
To be fair to herself, she’d been in quite a long term relationship at that point! It was a happy one too! She’d thought he’d be it. Sure he’d been a lot rough around the edges, at the start, it’d been a shame cycle at the beginning since he was in fact, a colossal prick, but he was also the hottest guy she’d ever seen. Like, unfairly attractive considering his personality, and he knew exactly how to touch her to melt her icy resolve into a watery mess.
But once he’d gotten away from his dipshit of a father, his step mother dragging him with her when she escaped the man too, once Stevie had laid down the law of how little of the bullshit he’d learned from said father she’d personally tolerate before he’d get a boot out the door, he’d come around.
The racism had stopped immediately. The attitude had ebbed bit by bit as feelings set in, and he’d become a regular ol handsome teddy bear, he’d allowed himself to soften after he’d escaped the only reason he’d had to protect himself.
He’d even started getting along with his step sister, one of Dustin’s friends.
Then stupidity happened when they ran out of condoms, her cycles stopped, and three months in, two drunk idiots in a pickup ran a stoplight while he was getting her some ice cream. Doctors said he probably hadn’t felt a thing.
Rosie came along, a beautiful little thing, had her dad’s soft cheeks, his stormy eyes, thick dark lashes and soft curls, but she took after Stevie in everything else.
Stevie didn’t date after that. A personal choice really. She’d lost her parents, lost her love, and now she had a little girl to focus on, she was done. She felt herself complete! So what if she was still in her mid-twenties. Life had dealt her a hand, she was going to run with it.
Rosie would always come first, and she didn’t like explaining where Rosies father was, she didn’t like the look of pity on people’s faces, the apologies, the rinse and repeat cycle, and so she just. Didn’t bother!
It was easier! She had Rosie, she had her adoptive mother, she had Dustin, she had Billy’s sister Max and her other half Lucas, she had Susan, she had Robin, her co-worker and platonic soulmate from that dumb job at the mall she’d picked up to help Claudia with the bills, she had a whole support network, and she was fine.
Soon Rosie was in preschool, and then middle school, and the internet became a household thing, houses had computers, kids had phones, then smartphones, laptops, tablets, and suddenly the internet was everywhere and everyone had to be on it.
So there she was now. Mid-thirties, with a little girl, and a house paid for by her little brother.
Dustin had struck gold with a job at NASA, he’d put the downpayment on a little two bed house with a cute picket fence lined garden for her when Rosie was born without consulting her, just did it and “SURPRISE STEVIE, now get the hell out of mom’s basement, Jesus Christ.” Kept paying until it was all hers, and that was that… until he came round with computers and gadgets and then she had the internet because Rosie would need it for school because while libraries were awesome he’d had to suffer the five books at a time, Dustin rule one too many times and the internet had UNLIMITED books.
And now Stevie had a smart phone, and apps, and Instagram was fun! Doomscrolling the FYP took up chunks of her days off work while Rosie was at school! She never intended to be a name on there. She’d heard that people could become known for stuff, go viral or whatever.
She never intended to do that. She was a mother. Not even a hot young mom either. She was in her thirties! She remembered when the world didn’t have internet, she was there.
She posted work out videos, never having lost the competitive streak she’d always had as a teenager, sports were her thing back in high school, Gymnastics specifically, which led into cheering. She’d done some competition once with the team but nothing huge, she was fit, healthy, and the subject of many a thirst comment that she pointedly ignored.
She’d posted the occasional rant about Sally the PTA bitch with the self-proclaimed “best potato salad in the State” while doing her morning makeup, still never paying much mind to the comments section, the little rapidly climbing number that signalled followers, or the occasional DM from brands wanting to ‘collab’.
She didn’t care for that, she just wanted to post her little videos in peace. In retrospect, if peace was what she wanted, the lunch trend… probably wasn’t the best one to pick up. It was just a trend though! She’d seen a few moms doing it! Just posting little harmless videos online of what they’d pack their kids for lunch every day!
Harmless, fun! She loved making Rosies lunches, she saw no harm in sharing the fun!
They were always affordable, packed with healthy options, and creative too! She tried her hand at sushi, Rosie hated it, Robin loved it, so Robin got the sushi rolls in her lunches instead, picked up every morning when she grabbed Rosie on the way into work, they were both going to the same place after all, Robin taking on the music teacher role at the Middle school Rosie attended.
She tried noodle jars, cool wraps, made shapes and fun little animals out of fruit, she got creative, but they were all very cookie cutter videos, they all had the same vibe, similar content, it was something to fill her free time that she enjoyed so never in a million years would she have ever predicted that ONE of them, would cause so much chaos.
It started with the beeping.
The incessant pings sometime in the early hours of the morning. Notifications on her phone going off one after the other until she was forced to sit up, bleary eyed, and stare with squinted eyes at the far too bright screen of her phone, then she silenced it and went back to sleep.
With the chaos of the morning routines, getting Rosie up, washed, dressed, packed up for school, and out the door, she didn’t think about the incessant little beeping she’d silenced. It was a distant memory buried under the fog of a heavy sleep and continued to be a distant memory right up until Dustin appeared at her doorstep at around one in the afternoon midway through her afternoon workout, ruffled, stressed, flustered, and frankly just a little too sweaty.
He bypassed all niceties, as usual, bulldozing straight to the point, he pinpointed her phone, which sat comfortably on the countertop, seemingly oh so innocent, grabbed it, brandished it up as if to highlight its very existence and just “Woman, do you LOOK, AT YOUR PHONE?!”
Now, Stevie was not in the business of accepting a tone like that, especially not from her little brother. No matter how much he’d shelled out for the house, the attitude had to go. “Tone problem you little shit, fix it now or get the fuck out of this house and try again later.”
To his credit, he took a breath, and fixed it “Sorry, I’m sorry, but—look! Look at it, please, for the love of Christ, the internet is freaking out.”
“What?”
“Your video yesterday! The one with the like… teddy bear thing you did? With the rice an the—”
“Rosies lunch?”
“Yeah! Have you seen the comments on it?” Stevie rolled her eyes and went about picking up her things, workout sufficiently disrupted, she wouldn’t be able to pick that pace back up now. “Stevie?”
“You know I don’t look at those, people get weird on the internet, it’s like it gives weirdos the perfect place to be their weirdest selves and not in a good way.” She’d looked at them once, curiosity had gotten the better of her once upon a time and wound up having to ask Max what ‘OF?’ meant. She’d taken the win, let it momentarily boost her self-confidence, and decided to never look again. She was done with all that.
“Stevie, this time… one of those weirdos, is famous.” Since it was the age of the internet, Stevie regarded him with a look of disinterest, ‘famous’ could be anything, it could be some dweeb behind a computer screaming obscenities at a mic hooked up to some ridiculously overpriced gaming PC for likes. It could be a podcast bro with half a brain cell kicking its long since dead other half, it could be—“rockstar famous.” Dustin clarified. “One of the guys from that band I like? Corroded Coffin, they just—” he swiped the phone, letting out a soft scoff as the screen just flicked to life, no security pin to be seen of course, no matter, he’d probably berate later, he had a video to find and—“Ah-hah! Look!” and a phone to once again shove into his big sister’s face.
“That’s not even my video!”
“I know! They took the comment down already, but it’s EVERYWHERE, look!” Someone had screenshots. It wasn’t just one video covering it, Dustin scrolled, another popped up soon after, someone getting a little too excited about what was probably the most unfortunate of accidents.
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“Don’t they have like… I dunno, people running their accounts? A person? Maybe their internet person just forgot to log out of that account?”
“No! Eddie runs it! The guitarist? Eddie Munson, he usually runs it all himself so everyone thinks it’s him, AND—AND LOOK!” Dustin clicked on the Corroded Coffin’s account, then tapped on the most recent post. Just a big black square, with the word ‘Whoops’ in big bold white lettering, captioned ‘I regret nothing. Just ONE chance, sweetheart, just one.’ With a little prayer hands emoji. “He’s ASKING you out!”
“He’s being a freak on the internet” hands found her hips, the classic mom pose. Immovable, stubborn.
“He’s always a freak! But he’s really cool! He does like, Make A Wish stuff, and—and visits children’s hospitals dressed up like fantasy characters, and he runs DnD things on the account every few months an he’s just REALLY cool, I mean they’re all really cool but Eddie is really cool maybe—maybe you could—”
“Upend my life, Rosie’s life, for a guy I don’t know, who has a job that takes him all over the world, who probably has his pick of whoever the hell he wants so what exactly could I bring to the table to keep him around? I’m done with all that shit, Dusty… I had my time, I have Rosie, I have everything I need. What makes you think I’d even like him?”
“You liked Billy.”
“Get out.”
“No, wait, not like that, I mean, they’re the same! Well, okay, not the same, Eddie didn’t start out a giant prick an he’s never been racist, but they’re sorta similar, similar music tastes, shit fathers, he’s rough round the edges, lil scary looking sometimes but he’s just a big softie when you get past the whole, scary dog thing. Eddie’s like… if Billy never had a shit dad. I just think that maybe… if you looked him up, maybe you’d… I dunno, you’d like him… maybe he’d be your kind of guy… maybe you could finally find someone who appreciates you… you’re not supposed to be on your own, Stevie.”
“Yeah well, I’m not. I have Rosie, and Robin, an you guys… an y’know. Bob.”
“Bob?” One of her patented looks told him all he needed to know, he jerked back in revulsion “ew! God! Fine, could you just! I dunno, look him up or something? Just think about it, I swear he’s really cool an I’d—”
“You’d love free tickets to their next concert.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Alright then, nice to see you Dustin. Always a pleasure to have you round, please get the hell out of my house.” 
“UggGGGGGHHHHH, STEVIIIIEEE!!!”
“Uggghh, DUSTIIIIN! You interrupted my work out for internet pervert nonsense.” She began shooing him toward the door “Shoo, shoo. I have a family sized bar of chocolate to work off my hips before it gets stuck there.”
“He’d love your hips! With the addition of chocolate bars or not!”
“Weird! Out!” Out the door he went, it closed behind him.
That of course didn’t stop him from yelling through the door, “Just look him up!! I promise you won’t regret it!” But she mostly ignored him, until he went away.
Mostly because… Dustin never spoke up in favour of men before. He’d even gone through a period of hinting at maybe just switching sides and dating Robin when he found out Robin was a lesbian, but both women had promptly shut that down every single time he tried bringing it up.
He wasn’t a huge fan of men.
He’d been raised by a strong independent woman, he’d had a strong female role model in Stevie who’d pushed through every trauma life had thrown at her, he had Robin, he had Max, Jane, Erica, he had Nancy his friend Mike’s older sister, one of his friends had also been raised by a strong independent woman, he’d been surrounded by strong women his entire life with only one real solid male figure.
And that was his middle school science teacher, Scott Clarke. Which was kind of sad when you thought about it.
For him to really vouch for a man, it meant something! It wasn’t something to ignore, even if every instinct Stevie had told her to just. Leave it. What kind of man could a rockstar lifestyle have created. What kind of red flags could Eddie Munson be hiding that Dustin couldn’t (or didn’t want to) see.
Did he really even mean it?
Was it actually Eddie, and not someone else from the band? Would she be seen as foolish for even entertaining the thought? It wasn’t like she’d ever paid attention to the bands Dustin liked, so surely nobody would see her as a weird fan for thinking about it, right? She didn’t even approach him!
He approached her!
Shit like that didn’t just happen though. Or did it? Could it? Was she stupid to even entertain the thought?
Before she knew it, it was time to pick Rosie up, and she hadn’t even finished her work out. it was fine, her hips could handle a chocolate bar. For now. Its days were numbered.
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lilghostiequinni · 2 days
Text
Not As it Seemed to Be
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Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist
Pairing: private(secret)!female oc (Erica) x Lando Norris
Warnings: Fluffy, Established relationship, Pregnancy talk
Summary: Lando has been one to keep his personal life only slightly private and not be able to keep a secret at all, but what happens when the whole world learns of her.
Requested: NO / yes
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Erica lays in bed, running her fingers through Lando's hair, lost in thought.
Her fingers stop, even though it's momentarily, "Why'd you stop?"
"Just lost in thought," Erica looks down to Lando, who still has his eyes closed as he rests his head on her very prominent pregnant belly.
"What should we name them?" Lando questions, looking up to at her, head still on her belly.
"Should we go full Star Wars?" Erica jokes with a smile as Lando makes a face at the suggestion. "What, you don't like it?"
Lando just looks at her.
"Alright, I was thinking we make a list, pick the ones we like, and get it down to a first and middle name," Erica says, and Lando nods into her side as there's movement, then a kick to the face.
Erica starts laughing as Lando looks offended at her belly, rubbing his cheek, even if it didn't really do anything.
"Up, I've got to pee," Erica says, patting Lando on the forehead.
Lando sits up and Erica calls out as she reaches the bathroom, "You should start to get ready, we've only got an hour until you need to be at the track."
Lando looks over to the clock and realizes she's right. He gives one final sigh and gets out of bed.
It doesn't take long before they leave the hotel; they are both trying to hurry and leave the hotel on time.
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Lando walks into the paddock with Erica on his arm and her pregnant belly prominent in the outfit she wore to show it off.
"Lando, this a friend of yours?" Carlos asked; he was the first of the drivers to get to them.
"No, she's my girlfriend," Lando says to him as he puts his arm around Erica's shoulder, his hand hanging over her shoulder for her to grab hold of with her free hand.
"For how long?" Carlos questions, having been his former teammate and never heard of her, he didn't know how long this was going on, though he does remember seeing her around the paddock, even more in the last year.
"Since we were 17, so almost ten years," Lando says as Erica looks around.
"I'm sorry, baby, but I really need the bathroom," Erica tells Lando, who lets go over her as she waddles over to the restrooms she had seen.
"You didn't mention her before," Carlos points out, rather confused.
"Yeah, when we met, she was busy, so never around the paddock, and most people thought she was just a friend, not my girlfriend, and I just never corrected them because she didn't need the attention for it," Lando says, a shrug of his shoulders as he looks toward where Erica went to.
Oscar walked into the paddock, saw Lando with Carlos, and approached them as Erica returned from the bathroom.
Hey Erica," Oscar says as he stops next to her and they continue together back to Lando and Carlos.
Which is when Carlos asked if Oscar knew about Erica, "I know her as Lando's best friend, why?"
"Because she's my very pregnant girlfriend that I didn't announce publicly and have announced," Lando says as Erica tucks back under his arm.
"We enjoyed the privacy, especially now," Erica says as she rubs her belly, and Lando moves his hand over to hers, smiling down at her.
Oscar watched them and realized that he had noticed their relationship before but never thought much of it.
It was later that day that fans started to notice that Erica was pregnant and Lando was acting as more than a friend and more like a soon-to-be father and a boyfriend.
Fans then started to put their predictions online, and eventually, Erica found an edit made within hours of all the times that people noticed that she and Lando were more than friends.
For the most part, the response to your "secret" relationship was relatively positive.
After the race, in the media pen it was the first question got that asked about Erica, "So you came in today with Erica, a long-time friend, but she's pregnant, and you seemed more like a boyfriend or father than a friend."
"What's the question?" Lando asks, not hearing a question in all of what the interviewer said.
"My question is, what's going on? Is she your friend, your girlfriend?"
"Erica is my girlfriend and has been for the better part of the last ten years. Erica was my girlfriend when I started Formula One when there were rumors of me with one of her friends. She's been with me through my ups and downs; she was there for my win in Miami last year, and she was there for Barcelona. She's my rock," Lando says to the interviewer, the smile and adoration in his eyes growing with each word he says.
"And she's pregnant?"
"Yes, we are having twins," Lando says, nodding along with his statement.
"Just one last question about this before we get on to race questions is, why have you never said anything about her, Erica being your girlfriend?"
"When I started racing in Formula One, she didn't need the extra attention on her as she was starting college, and with me constantly moving and her having to stay on campus, it was hard enough. The media and fans weren't needed in our relationship dynamic. Then afterward, especially in this last year, I just never corrected people because I loved the bliss of having this little piece of me out of the media," Lando says as he grows more serious in his explication.
"Alright, then. Now, how does it feel to win today with the world and fans knowing that Erica is your girlfriend and you will soon have two kids who are going to be so proud of their dad for winning?"
"Amazing," Lando is then directed to a different interviewer with a smile on his face as he leaves.
Lando knows that his children will be proud of him because they are not just part of him but also part of Erica, and she's always proud of Lando and always there when he needs her.
To the public things were not as they seemed, but that is never what mattered to Lando and Erica.
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A/N: Only been working on this one for about three weeks.
Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @hellothere9597
If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop
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catslvrr · 19 hours
Text
hiding in plain sight
kim minji x fem!reader | one shot
Synopsis: Being stuck in an elevator is bad. Being stuck in an elevator with Minji, however, is very good.
Contains: mentions of drinking, cursing
Song: Glue Song — Beabadoobee, Clairo
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You should’ve known that your laziness would come back to bite you in the ass one day.
“Alright,” Hanni huffs, readjusting her tote bag strap. “This is where we part ways.”
You shift weight onto your right foot to bump shoulders with her. “Are you sure? The offer still stands.”
“Very sure,” she laughs as she glances at the daunting stairs on the right. “Need these bad boys muscled up.”
Hanni attempts a bodybuilder pose to flaunt her calf muscles, but barely anything shows. It’s a sad display. Maybe she really does need it.
“Shame,” you sigh dejectedly. “I’ll convince you one day.”
Every day for two months. That’s how long Hanni has devoted herself to taking the stairs rather than the elevator. You’ve tried almost everything to convince her, from horror stories to bribery to threats.
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“Hanni, just get in the fucking elevator,” you hiss, violently slamming on the ‘open doors’ button. It’s ten in the evening, both of you just got back from a grueling study session in the library, and you’re about to drop dead.
It’s just your luck that she’s your roommate. You forgot your keys to the apartment, and there is no way in hell that you’re waiting fifteen minutes for her to climb however many flights of stairs it takes to get to the room.
“Nuh-uh,” she sing-songs, performing a pirouette for absolutely no reason other than to rub salt in the wound. “It’s fun seeing you mad.”
You grit your teeth. “I will tell everyone that you were the one who killed Lucy.”
A gasp. “You wouldn’t!”
(It was a tragedy. Lucy was a dearly loved succulent who sat on a window sill at the end of the hallway. Every resident would visit Lucy from time to time, and there was even a Facebook page to upload pictures of Lucy and its growth.
On the fateful day, you and Hanni had just returned from a rowdy night out, and of course, both of you were a tad bit too drunk. You dared her to do a cartwheel and Lucy was unfortunately caught in the crossfire.
Somebody had posted a picture of Lucy, sprawled out on the carpet, pieces of the broken pot surrounding it. Word spread throughout the apartment and there was a solemn funeral held for Lucy. Justice was demanded but the true culprit was never found… because you were her alibi.)
“But I would,” you say with a smirk. At this point, you’re surprised the button isn’t broken yet. You’re also sorry for anyone else who’s waiting for the elevator on other floors.
“It was your fault in the first place!”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got video evidence.”
Hanni sags her shoulders in defeat. After a few seconds of thinking, she seems to perk up again.
“Tell them,” she declares defiantly. “It’s been months anyway. People deserve closure.”
She then marches toward the stairs. You hear the echoes of her stomping.
You see your confounded face in the reflection as the elevator doors close.
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“Aren’t you the basketball player?” Hanni muses. “You should be jumping at the chance to get some cardio in.”
“I already went to the gym today,” you flex your bicep smugly and attempt a smoulder. “And I got practice later.”
“You look like a jackass,” she scoffs. “Don’t talk to me.”
She curtly turns and speedwalks to the stairs, the telltale sounds of heavy steps following soon after.
You reach for your headphones around your neck and belatedly realize that they’re missing. “Fuck!”
The steps stop. Hanni’s voice is booming down the stairwell. “What?”
“I think I left my headphones in class.”
Hanni spares you no sympathy and cackles as she continues up the stairs. “Loser!”
You groan and decide you’ll go and find it before practice later. You tap your foot impatiently as you wait for the elevator to arrive. It’s taking a bit longer than usual today. You take a few minutes to scroll on your phone for a bit before you hear a familiar ding.
The elevator doors open and you walk in, but as you turn around to press the button to your floor, you see a face you weren’t expecting to see.
“Minji?” You tilt your head as she steps inside.
Minji offers a small smile and an awkward wave.
If you remember correctly, she’s friends with Haerin, who’s your team’s mascot. It’s such a shame she didn’t try out for the team because her height is ideal for the sport. You already have Hyein as a center, but she could probably pass as a power forward if she trained for it.
You notice that Minji is wearing the bottom half of the bear mascot. “Is Haerin okay?”
“Yeah,” she scratches her cheek. “She’s feeling a bit under the weather so I’m taking over for tomorrow’s game. Figured I’d get some practice before then.”
You’re about to ask about how the practice went, but the way she slumps in exhaustion against the railing tells you everything. You take note of the glistening sweat on her neck and the strands of hair sticking to her skin. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat, but it gives her a faint glow that gets you bothered.
“Aren’t you hot?” You raise an eyebrow. “I tried that on once and I almost passed out after doing a backflip.”
Minji looks down at the bear costume and shakes her head hurriedly. “I’m almost home.”
“You’re fifth floor, right?”
A nod. You take her nonverbal response as a sign of discomfort, and so you stop your attempts at conversation.
There’s a few minutes of tense silence before a metallic screech pierces your ears. You both stumble as the elevator comes to an unexpected halt.
“What the fuck,” you say, squinting at the buttons and displays. You poke around for a bit before realizing that the elevator isn’t moving.
You turn around to check on Minji, but it doesn’t seem like she’s faring well. Her face is pale white and she’s tightly gripping onto the rails.
“Hey,” you take a small step toward her. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she snaps her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “Fine. Just a bit claustrophobic.”
You hesitantly place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze gently. “Just take your time and breathe, okay? I’ll contact emergency services.”
Minji nods again and sits down in the corner. You watch her worriedly before checking your phone. Of course, there’s no service. 
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You click on the bright red emergency services button, expecting static or a voice to sound out, but there’s nothing. You press again. And again. You push and hold it for five seconds.
“Don’t panic,” you flash Minji with an awkward grin. “But it’s not working.”
“Oh God,” she blanches, and understandably begins to panic. “We’re gonna die.”
She stands up, still in the mascot costume, and paces around the elevator. “We’re going to run out of oxygen. We’ll suffocate to death. We’ll run out of food and die of starvation. No, we’ll die of dehydration before that. What if I need to pee?”
The costume makes the passionate rant all the more comical. Her rambling continues as she wrings her hands together. “I think I need to pee. The anxiety’s getting to me.”
You grimace. “Please don’t talk about pissing. It’ll make me wanna piss too.”
Minji’s still aggressively muttering to herself in blind terror, so you stop her by grabbing her arm. “Hey, relax.”
That only seems to worsen her agitation as she yanks her body away from you, her face burning red as she almost elbows you in the face. She squeaks, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“It’s okay,” you wave it off with a laugh and squeeze her hand. It’s soft. “You’re lucky you didn’t damage this pretty face.”
In this brief flustered state, Minji temporarily forgets about the panic and slides down to the floor like Jello. You squat down to meet her eye level. 
“Seriously though, it’ll be fine. The elevator has air vents so we’ll get enough circulation in here. And we’ll only be in here half an hour max. And about the pissing…” you trail off and take a quick peek at your duffle bag. “I have a bottle?”
Minji doesn’t reply, head in her hands. You make yourself comfortable and sit cross-legged opposite her.
“Will anyone notice you’re missing?”
“No,” she mumbles dejectedly.
Well, shit. Hanni probably thinks you’ve gone to find your headphones. “We might be here for more than an hour then.”
You clear your throat to break the awkward silence that ensues after. “How come I’ve never seen you around? We’re in the same year, right?”
“Our courses are in different buildings,” Minji says weakly. “My psych classes are far from the engineering buildings.”
“You already know what course I do?” You grin cheekily. “You must be a big fan.”
Minji hastily lifts her face, showcasing a burning blush. “No! I just… heard it from Haerin, that’s all.”
Your grin only widens. Like Haerin would ever talk about the team. She’s only there for the free post-game feeds. You choose to feign ignorance for her sake.
“You should take that off,” you suggest, noticing how Minji is uncomfortably squirming in the costume. “I’ll help with the zipper.”
“Okay,” Minji stammers, scrambling to get up on her feet.
You brush away some of her hair that’s covering the zipper and move it over her shoulder. Your fingers briefly brush over her neck, and all you can feel is how she’s burning hot. Minji almost imperceptibly shivers and jolts forward, choking on air. You pull the zipper down and watch with mirth as she clumsily wrestles out of the costume.
Minji stuffs it in her backpack and flops back down, hugging her backpack in her lap. You follow suit and sit a few inches away from her.
“Much better?”
She nods, still avoiding your gaze. You bite your cheek as you stare at her, trying to figure out a way to make conversation. You decide to fish your phone out of your pocket and pull up a recording of your last game, flashing her your screen as you pat the empty space next to you. “You wanna watch?”
Minji hesitates for a few seconds before shuffling closer. Her voice is small as she admits, “I was watching this game on the sidelines.”
You’re filled with a sense of pride at the news. But you also make a mental note to ponder on why you haven’t noticed her around before. “Really?”
“It’s not because of you or anything,” she adamantly denies, rubbing her nape, though you feel like her red cheeks contradict that.
“Anyone catch your eye?”
Her denial is half-hearted.
You pout teasingly. “Shame. I’ll play better next game.”
You save Minji from further embarrassment and press play. “You know how basketball works, right?”
“Each team has five players on the court… and the ball goes in the hoop?” Minji frowns.
“And?”
“And… you can’t run with the ball.”
“Basically,” you chuckle. “But there’s more to it.”
You rewind the video back to the beginning. “I hope you don’t mind me commentating.”
She shakes her head, and so you continue. “So this is one of the simplest plays in basketball: a pick and roll…”
You eventually finish the video and end up versing each other on the table hockey app on your phone. She’s surprisingly competitive and it’s endearing. You then somehow end up talking about card games, and you introduce her to the world of Inscryption through a gameplay video.
Halfway through the video, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder. You crane your neck slightly and see Minji’s sleeping face. You smile and continue watching until you slowly drift off to sleep as well.
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You’re both awoken with a sudden thud. Minji practically springs off of you and profusely apologizes, much to your amusement. You look up to see a firefighter opening the emergency escape hatch.
“You ladies alright?”
“Yes sir,” you drawl, checking your phone. “It’s just been two hours, no biggie.”
A ladder is dropped from the hatch and you both climb up, stretching your limbs as you stand on top of the elevator.
“This is so sick,” you pose as you take selfies. “I feel like I’m in some action movie.”
You tilt your phone to include Minji in the photos, and you laugh because she looks like she’s being held hostage.
The two of you are harnessed on some rope and pulled up by firefighters to safety. You’re shocked to see Haerin and Hanni there waiting. Hanni practically storms toward you and latches herself onto you like a koala, crying dramatically about your disappearance. You thank the firefighters as they pack up their equipment and begin to disperse.
“Hey Haerin,” you greet her with a strained voice, trying to peel Hanni off you. “You feeling better?”
“No,” she replies nasally. There’s a tissue stuffed in her right nostril. “But I’ll be there next game.”
You gift her with a slap on the back which earns you one in return, and you curse under your breath because she definitely hit you harder than you hit her. You ignore the stinging pain and swivel to meet Minji’s gaze that is already on you.
“Keep an eye on me next game?” You ask nonchalantly, but you must admit there’s a small part of you that twinges with hope. “I’ll play super duper good for you.”
Minji’s eyes widen in surprise before timidly answering with a stutter, “I will.”
“I’ll see you then!” You leave her with a side hug (where she awkwardly pats your back) before approaching Hanni. She gives you an eyebrow wiggle that you roll your eyes to in response. She is a hundred percent going to interrogate you at home. Both of you start the long climb to the apartment.
“Karma’s a bitch,” Hanni says obnoxiously. “That’s what you get for not taking the stairs.”
“Shut up JoJo Siwa,” you glower at her, but a lame grin graces your face when you remember your time spent with Minji. “I’d say it was a good thing.”
“Ew,” she gags. “Wipe that dopey smile off your face.”
You abruptly stop and grab Hanni’s arm. She turns around in confusion and sees your aghast expression. “What?”
“I missed practice. Yujin is gonna kill me.”
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Tomorrow comes quicker than you expected, and you’re buzzing with nerves as you warm up on the sidelines. It’s not an important game, but your hands tremble a bit more today. You scan the court for a certain someone.
Danielle throws you a Gatorade. “Who are you looking for?”
“No one,” you blurt out a bit too quickly. You take a swig from the bottle to wash away your anxiety as you seat yourself on a bench.
“You sure?” Danielle quips with a knowing smile. “You’re shaking.”
You slam the bottle on the bench to shut down her jest. 
“Shouldn’t you be with Hyein?” You scowl as you shoo her away. “Go be a supportive friend and give her some encouraging words or something.”
Any lingering embarrassment flies out the window when you spot a big bear entering the building. You wave her over and laugh as she trips over someone’s stranded bag.
“Hi,” you smile.
You can barely hear Minji’s muffled voice through the head. “Hi.”
Your smile twitches as Hyein and Danielle appear behind Minji and start pulling childish faces. Your glare and subtle middle finger sends them away. “Wish me luck?”
The referee whistles as a signal for players to get on the court. Minji gives an awkward thumbs up, so you accept the fact that you have to initiate contact. You lean forward and kiss the stupid bear head. It’s a bit weird, but it’s worth it because you hear Minji’s breath hitch. 
She runs away promptly after. The game starts and you’ve never felt so motivated in your life.
The other team is irritatingly good at three-pointers, but your team’s size provides you with a solid advantage; you’re able to fight back through rebounding and shots inside the paint.
Your teammates are a bit puzzled at first when you keep hogging the ball and taking contested shots, but they’re not mad because you’re making them. The bewilderment quickly turns to disbelief when they realize you keep looking at the mascot after every shot.
“You’re so annoying,” Yujin grumbles during the half-time break. “This is not High School Musical.”
“Stop complaining, grandma.” You can feel your muscles ache from the overexertion, but the goal of impressing Minji takes priority. “We’re up by 20.”
“I think it’s cute!” Hyein interjects with an encouraging pinch of your cheek. “I can’t see Minji’s face but I bet she’s in love.”
Everyone turns as they hear a loud smack that resonates throughout the building. Minji’s sprawled on the floor after a failed backflip.
“She’s so cute,” you giggle, disregarding your teammate’s exasperated groans and mock punches.
The rest of the game is a breeze, but there are a few frustrating turnovers here and there that shorten the lead to nine when the final whistle blows.
You slither away from the team huddle and plop yourself down next to Minji. She’s gulping down water at a scarily excessive pace. You wait for her as she squeezes every last drop from the bottle and lets out a big wheeze afterwards.
“Tired?”
Minji nods and gratefully accepts the towel. You admire her as she wipes sweat off her neck and face.
“So,” you chirp. “How was the game?”
“You did really well,” she admits meekly.
Your chest puffs up at the praise. “So you’ll be watching from the front row for all my games from now on? I wanna see you.”
Minji’s taken aback by your forwardness, but nods shyly.
You’re still bouncing with adrenaline. “Did you see that and-one layup I made? And the no-look pass? And the—”
You stop rambling as you realize Minji’s not responding and spacing out. More specifically, spacing out and staring at your lips.
“Kiss me,” you say.
Minji literally jumps on the spot and almost screams, “What?”
“Kiss me,” you say again simply. “You want to and I want to. What’s stopping you?”
She audibly gulps and averts her gaze to hide her dilated pupils. “No, I was just distracted by something else, really…”
You roll your eyes and tug on the collar of the mascot costume to pull her in for a kiss. You feel her whole body stiffen and she makes a strangled noise, but then she melts and kisses you back for a few seconds before you pull away.
“Your lips are soft,” you smile casually, but you can feel the hammering of your heart.
“Thanks,” Minji’s voice wavers. “You too.”
“I like you,” you continue. “We should go on a date.”
“Really?” She stumbles over her words, still slightly dazed. “Are you sure?”
You hum in affirmation.
“Okay,” she squeaks.
“Okay,” you repeat with a smile. You stand up and take her hand to pull her up as well. “Let’s go eat. The team is probably waiting for us outside.”
“Wait!” She yanks you back. “Let me get out of this costume first…”
“Do you need help with the zipper again?”
“…Yes please.”
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Dedicated to user rosiehrs... hope this minji was 'loser' enough for you
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weretentaclegirl · 3 days
Text
You’re ready for bed when you hear a knock. You open the front door and there’s a large package waiting for you with your name on the very top, and upon further inspection you find there’s no sender address, name or anything else for that matter. You take it inside and open it, not knowing what it is as you’re not expecting anything. There’s the pink and white teddy bear you saw online a couple days ago, but you never bought it nor told anyone that you wanted it so you really don’t know what it is doing here. It’s huge, reaching to your navel while it's sitting down, it has a faint purple glow on the inside, and it’s so so cute you decide to thank the universe and put it on your bed and finally go to the dream lands after a long day.
Not long after you fall asleep you are awakened by the feeling of something slimy wrapping tightly around your legs and holding them apart. Panic starts bubbling up in your chest as you realize your naked body (you went to sleep in your pjs!) being fondled by glowing purple tentacles coming out of that damn teddy bear. There’s tentacles everywhere; sucking on your aching nipples and groping your tits, grinding on your sensitive clit, probing at your already wet entrance and asshole. One wraps around your neck and when you try to scream for help you find yourself being facefucked by a thick tentacle who spurts a salty liquid down your throat and keeps fucking your mouth. You feel a big one enter your pussy and a smaller one stretching your asshole and you can’t help but moan around the one using your mouth like a fleshlight. You know you should be terrified and disgusted but you’re so fucking horny and it feels so good having your holes filled that you stop struggling, stop even thinking and let yourself enjoy the relentless pounding and the warm cum the tentacles are spurting into you, stuffing all your holes so much it drips out of you, and fucking it into you again. You come and come again until you forget your name and where you are, only knowing the pleasure this creature is giving you. 
You don't know for how long this goes, but by the time the tentacles retreat themselves back to the teddy bear, you are so worn and tired, and the only thing you can think of is what a great decision it was to keep the pink and white teddy bear that came in the mail.
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romanteacism · 3 days
Text
Aemond Targaryen NSFW Alphabet
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Warnings: +18, Mature, NSFW Word Count: 3,175 NOT PROOFREAD
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A - After Care (What are they like after sex?)
Completely focused on you. Gazing at every action and reaction on your body, savoring the remnants of pleasure in your face. 
Aemond would carry you to the tub and join you, as both of you preferred to sleep with a clean feeling. However, whenever you two are in the tub, it will inevitably lead to another session of lovemaking, rendering your cleansing moot. 
B - Body Part (Their favorite part of theirs and their partner's body.)
Aemond loves every part of you: your enchanting eyes, simpering smile— but he must admit he is partial to your tits. He loves resting his head upon the soft globes of your breast whilst you read to him. Playing with your bosom whenever he could, he always marveled at how your nipples would peak by his cold touch, at how soft your skin was. Often in the morning, when you woke in his arms, you would feel his hand grasping your tit as he slept. 
He also loved your lips, often just staring at them when you spoke. There was just something so captivating about your lips. The way they were always pink— almost red, the way you would bite them when you were deep in thought, or how they would turn glossy as you licked them. He especially loved it when you pouted; you often did that when he would tease you or if things would not go your way; it just made your lips even more kissable.
Aemond’s favorite part of his body, his eyes, yes, both of them. He used to despise them, having only one, but when he revealed his whole self to you, he expected you to grow in fear. It caught him off guard as you called him ‘beautiful.’ Softly tracing his scar, and marveled at his sapphire eye. He never used to take off his eye patch, but the moment he was in the privacy of your chambers, it was the first piece of clothing he took off.
C - Cum (Anything to do with cum.)
Aemond often indulges himself at the taste of your climax, licking it clean off his fingers and lips, not wasting a drop of the ambrosia that came from you.
Aemond insists on spilling his seed deep inside your cunt, but there were times when you took him with your mouth, and he tried to pull out— to hinder himself from spilling in your mouth, but your kept his cock lodged between your lips, him reaching his peak and spilling himself in your throat. He was quick to get a cloth, urging you to spit out his spent, but he only marveled as you swallowed. He grew with further need as you cleaned the spilled essence of him from the side of his mouth with your finger and brought it to your lips, moaning as you tasted him. 
D - Deepest Desires (What do they desire the most?)
You. You were everything Aemond had wanted. Sometimes, he wondered if he wanted a dragon as much as he had wanted you. 
The throne. He knew in himself that he would be a better king than his brother, that he had the tact to rule the seven kingdoms. And he would admit he often fantasized about you as his queen. Fucking you on the iron throne, the conqueror’s crown upon his brow, and you bouncing on his cock. 
E - Experience (How experienced are you they?)
Really experienced. And it did make sense; Aegon was his brother, and it would seem that he oversaw that Aemond was as well skilled in the art of pleasuring a woman. You were, however, skeptical at how good he was, that perhaps he had the same taste in depravity as his brother, but you did not like to dwell on such matters because Aemond never gave you a reason to doubt. 
F - Favorite Positions (This goes without saying.) 
Missionary. He liked how you would cling to him, wrapping your legs around his waist and your nails scratching his back. He also liked that the position offered him a view of your pretty face, that he was able to kiss your lips and take your breast into his mouth. 
From behind, but only when you two are standing before a mirror. Aemond wanted, no, needed to see your face every time you fucked. He loves to see every expression and reaction he would elicit from you. 
G - Gifts (What kind of gifts do they like to give and receive?) 
Aemond was never one for material possessions, but he did cherish the little trinkets and gifts you would give him. Once, you gave him a chess set. The one in his room was old and tattered because it was only passed down to him. You had commissioned the game pieces to the likes of their dragons: the King, Balerion; the Queen was, of course, Vhagar. He as well always keeps with him at all times a handkerchief you had embroidered for him, the both of your initials prominent and intertwined within the pattern.
You, however, were the complete opposite of Aemond. Your heart was always bemused and enthralled by pretty and shiny things. Aemond gifts you anything and everything your little heart desires. Often, you would just return to your chambers with parcels addressed to you, no particular occasion to warrant such gifts, only the love of your Aemond. 
H - Honor (How honorable are they?)
Aemond takes great pride in his honor. He always saw him mself better than his brother and nephews. He was never one to indulge, pious and cautious. He, however, made lapses in his honor when it came to you. The night of his fifteenth name day, with him having too much wine, he stumbled upon you in the gardens and boldly took your first kiss. He wanted to regret his actions, but he could not, for he had taken something he had wanted for the longest time. His honor was often tested when you bloomed into womanhood, him pleasuring himself every night with the thought of you, rendering him guilty in the morning, but he could not help himself. 
I - Intimacy (How intimate are they with their significant other?)
Aemond loses the sense of boundaries when it comes to you. Whenever you two are behind closed doors, he is completely in your space. It is either he was laid on your lap, or you were sat in his— you were initially surprised; you did not think he would enjoy such closeness, but your heart would double every time he sought to be near you. 
Aemond often waits for you to return at night, refusing to eat until you are in his company. He would usually be the one to fix you a plate, pouring wine into your chalice as you recalled your day to him, recalling each anecdote and court gossip you had encountered through your ventures. He was simply sitting there, listening intently and adoringly to every word you uttered. 
J - Jealousy (Self-explanatory, how jealous are they?) 
Completely and utterly jealous, bordering on paranoia. You were the best thing that has ever been his, so he was entirely cautious not to lose you. Any lingering look from any man and even sometimes women made him completely ready to challenge them just to show everyone how you were completely his. 
His jealousy did get out of hand once or twice. He recalled that he once cut out the tongue of a knight who dared make you laugh with his jest and how he had cut two fingers of a lord’s hand for daring to remove a leaf stuck in your hair. You, however, were oblivious to the extent of Aemond’s jealousy and possessiveness. Aemond wagers that perhaps one day, his jealousy may drive him to the brink of madness and may possibly kill a man just because of it. He did come close to it when someone during your adolescence dared to court you. Aemond was younger, and the man was a few years older than the both of you. He lacked the strength and courage to challenge him then, but if it were now, he would not hesitate to kill anyone who dared to take what was his. 
K - Kinks (One or more of the kinks)
Breeding. Gods, he loved to fantasize about you swollen with his child. He loved spilling his seed in your cunt, inserting his fingers after his cock as an added measure hoping his head would take. He could not wait for the day for you to grow pregnant with his child, and his impatience was showing, for he had been bedding you every time he could.
Face sitting. Aemond loves to feel your weight against his face. You were scandalized as he proposed such an idea, but it would seem you had grown fond of it. You writhing against his face, your nubbin perfectly aligned with his nose as his tongue thrusts in and out of your cunt. 
Somono. Often at night, he would wake with a great need for you. And instead of being cruel and waking you up from your slumber, he would just slip his cock in between your folds. 
Choking. He loved it when he would hear your whines as he obstructed your air; the way your cunt would clench harder around his length made his peak come quicker. 
Edging and Squirting. He loves to tease you and deprive you of quick climaxes, for he knows if he pushed you to the edge, your release would always be more enjoyable not only for you but for him as well. 
L - Love Language (What’s their love language?)
Touch. He loves to have a hold of any part of you, whether inside or outside of your chambers. Your fingers would always be intertwined under a table. A chaste kiss on your temple whenever he needed to leave. His arms linked with yours as you walked down the halls. His hand was on your waist as you stood together during trials. 
Gift-giving and acts of service. Anything that reminds Aemond of you, he will acquire it and send it to your chambers. Every start of the week, he would sneakily slip out of your chambers before the sun had risen, and before anyone else would wake, he would go to the gardens and acquire you a bouquet of freshly picked flowers, slipping back to your bed before you would wake. He had you believe that a servant was the one to bring you fresh flowers every week, but in truth, it was him. 
M - Motivation (What gets them going?)
Anything and everything you do. One time, during dinner, you just innocently sat there. You weren’t doing anything provocative. You even wore a more conservative dress to please his mother, yet he still had this great urge to be intimate with you. He had to excuse the both of you; unable to control himself, the two of you could not even make it to your chambers, Aemond readily fucking you in a dark, empty hall. 
He likes it when you wear red. It was pathetic of him to grow into a simpering simpleton every time you wore the color, but there was just something about you wearing red that excited him. 
Your jealousy. There are scarce times you get jealous, but Aemond prayed it would come more often because you get all jealous and territorial about him, which causes a great need and pleasure within him. 
N - No (Some things they would never tolerate.)
Share. As established, Aemond was an overly jealous man. He would not tolerate anyone who would dare come near you, let alone the possibility of sharing you.
You being gossiped about by the court. Once, he heard ladies talking baldy about you, and Aemond poured his rage on their husbands, beating and bloodying them; it was safe to say after that instance, no gossip in the court was about you. 
O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving.)
Both. However, he was more biased in giving rather than receiving; he would always savor the way your cunt felt and tasted against his lips and tongue. He remembered the first time you took his cock in your mouth; it was something more normalized, the women fulfilling the man’s needs, but he still blushed as you knelt before him, sucking him off until he came undone on your face. 
P - Past Pursuits (Any past paramours to worry about?)
Aemond had admitted that he had employed a few whores before you, but there was no intimacy with them, except for one madame he had lost his virginity. He would often come to her not to fuck, but for comfort, for she already had Aemond in such a vulnerable state. That, of course, immediately ceased when both of you reached a deeper understanding. 
Q - Quarrels (How often do you quarrel?)
Rarely. Aemond was always cautious not to pick fights with you or place his anger upon you— he could not bear it. It sickens him when the both of you have disagreements; he cannot stand it when you are cross with him. Though he has a great deal of pride within himself, it is always shed when it comes to you. He always being the one to apologize first, even at the times you were at the wrong. It is only for you that he can actually apologize, own up to his mistakes, and put his hubris to the side.
R - Remembrance (Things they do and leave as a reminder of them. How well do they remember things about their partner?)
Aemond knows everything about you. Anything with regards to you was engraved in his brain. It surprised you with all of your babbling and anecdotes you share with him; he still remembers everything you say. 
He never forgets your name, day, or special days that are set with milestones for the two of you. 
He knows everything you like, from your favorite dish to your favorite dessert, your favorite flower, color, gemstone, and even fabric. 
S - Stamina (How many rounds can they last?)
All day and all night long. You were always the first to tire, and your Aemond was an insatiable being that could never have enough of you. 
T - Time (How many hours are spent with each other? How much time do they have.)
Every spare second was spent with you. He would often ask you to accompany him during his readings or watch him whilst he trained with his sword. He could not stomach any prolonged time away from you; it made his skin crawl and stomach twist not to have you by his side. Even when the war began, he took a risk and brought you to Harrenhall, not being able to leave you in Kingslading for a prolonged period of time. 
When it comes to your intimacy, Aemond likes to savor and prolong his intimacy with you. Nothing about your coupling was quick. However, there are times when your husband is busy with his duties, forcing the both of you to hasten fucking. 
U - United Front (How do they and their significant other show their unity and devotion to each other?)
You and Aemond often coordinate your everyday clothes, showing that both of you are bound to each other. Your initials would always be a constant on his clothes, your ribbon tied at the hilt of his sword as a reminder of you. You were gifted a sapphire pendant by Aemond during your courtship, and ever since, not once did you take it off, not wanting to lose that reminder of him. 
V - Volume (How loud are they?)
Aemond is fairly quiet, only letting out small groans and sighs; the loudest he would be is during his climax, an animalistic groan leaving his lips as he spills his seed. The loudest your Aemond was during coupling was when you had taken his cock in between your ample chest, him spewing out moans and groans that echoed through your chambers as you slipped his length in between your tits. 
W - Wild Card (Random headcanons about them.)
Aemond does straighten his hair. Before, it was done by his squires, but you now took their place and did the service for him. 
He hates desserts, often finding them too sweet; however, he does love candied lemons. 
He wishes to have a pet cat. When the rat catchers were killed by his brother, the hand decided to place a clowder of felines to catch the rats in the castle instead. You would often catch him petting the employed animals. One would even stray to your bed chambers, and instead of Aemond shooing it away, he would caress its fur and even let it sleep at the foot of your bed. 
Pretend as he might, Aemond enjoys the gossip of the court, indulging and voicing his opinions and criticism when you speak of the latest talk. 
He detests poetry; he believes if one wants to say something, one must say it plainly and not dance along the subject and offer flowered verses. However, he does try to like it because you absolutely love hearing songs and sonnets. 
Aemond likes to be held, especially after demanding days; he would lay his weight atop you and make you hold him to calm him down. 
X - X-Ray (What's underneath?)
Big, too big, if you were being honest. The tip of his cock was a nice hue of pink, and there was a long vein along the shaft, and it was slightly curved upwards. You never thought you would find something so phallic to be so… appealing, certainly not beautiful, but his was. 
Y - Yearning (How long had they wanted their significant other?) 
Aemond had known you since he was but eight, and ever since, he knew you were the one he wanted to take to wife. All he ever wanted and dreamed about was you. And the moment you declared yourself as his, he was wrapped in an overwhelming feeling that he could not even speak of. All he could say was that he was truly blessed that the gods heard his countless prayers and gave him you. 
Z - Zzz (What are their sleeping habits?)
He would often feel you kick his leg in the middle of the night, waking him, but he would only smile to himself and hold you closer to his chest. 
He is bothered by the number of pillows you have placed on your featherbed, but he does use most of them. And during winter, your legs would always grow cold, for Aemond would hog all of the fur blankets as his lithe form would be quick to grow cold, the fire in his veins dying down as he rested.
Aemond does not sleep well when you are not by his side. He would toss and turn as he had been accustomed to holding you in his sleep. The scent of you being the only thing to calm his raging heart. 
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zweiginator · 3 days
Note
hey bestie could I request patrick and art taking turns eating the reader out (or at the same time)????? feel like that would be my dream fr. love your writing!!!
OH.
patrick and arts' confidence had been struggling. they had just lost their fourth doubles match. in a row. this was uncommon--no, it had never happened before. one loss happens. two is bad luck. three is shaken confidence. but four, four becomes a habit.
and you heard their coach yelling at them after their loss. you, expecting your best friends to win, had promised to take them out for wings at their favorite bar after their win. of course, they didn't win, but their dejected little puppy dog eyes made you feel so bad. so you took them out anyway.
you would never tell them this, but they look so cute in their matching outfits. snug black shorts that hug their muscular thighs. a t-shirt adorning their beloved tennis club. art wore his ball cap backwards; patrick's was worn the normal way.
and they were so sad. barely talking to you, sighing as they sucked and bit on their wings, pushing their fingers into their mouth. you kind of just watched them eat.
and the thing about your relationship with art and patrick was that it had teetered and almost bled over the line for the one and a half years you all had been friends. nothing about your relationship was traditional. on the road, you would all share a bed. and sometimes you wore art's shirt to bed and patrick's boxers. you commented on how handsome they look multiple times a week, and laughed at how flustered they would get. the boys ogled at your ass when you played your own matches, the wind pushing your tiny skirt up as a gift to them. but you had never, ever fully committed to pushing those boundaries. none of you had ever kissed, nor had you indulged in your sexual fantasies.
but that doesn't mean you didn't have them. and you knew art and patrick talked about them when you weren't there.
so you had an idea. it was stupid, and maybe you were feeling cocky at how pathetic they looked sitting across from you in a silence that was bordering on uncomfortable. but you gave them a deal.
"your guys' confidence is wavering." you tell them, pushing your finger into their basket of wings. you suck some of the sauce off. patrick and art are listening; it's the first thing anyone has said at this celebratory-dinner-turned -depressing-pity-party. "and hey, you're both incredibly good at tennis. so it makes sense that you're this upset."
they nod, and reach for the same fry. art pushes the basket towards patrick, and he happily shoves a handful in his mouth.
"but if you sit here and let it get you down, you're both gonna get in your head and keep losing."
"how do we avoid that? it may be too late." patrick takes a sip of his drink. art has his arms crossed over his chest.
"have something that drives you to want to win so bad, that you don't have a choice but to win." you lean forward. their eyes are big and confused.
"we always want to win." art shrugs.
"and if you do," you begin. "i will give you both a present of sorts."
"which is?" patrick's interest is piqued. but you can tell he's pissed at you insinuating they don't want to win enough.
"if you win your doubles on thursday, i'll let you do whatever you want to me." you whisper it, and hear them gulp.
your promise alluded to a conversation you had overheard six months prior. you weren't even supposed to be at their apartment, but you had had a bad day and wanted to watch a movie with them. they were talking loud in the living room, and you quickly realized it was about you.
"i wouldn't purposely ruin our friendship, is what i'm saying." art said. "but if she let us fuck her--i would do it immediately."
patrick interjected. "i would do disgusting things to her. and i would let her do them right back to me. seriously, anything."
the word anything was the kicker here. because ever since that conversation, you wondered what anything would be for them. how they would fuck you. what their fantasies were.
patrick wipes his mouth with a napkin and leans forward. "both of us together? or we separately can do anything we want?"
you shrug. "whatever you both want. that's the promise. i don't have any stipulations on how it's done."
"holy fuck." art is flustered, maybe because he realizes you know he is just as perverted as his best friend.
you all shook on it, like it was a stupid bet. it kind of was.
and by thursday, you were nervous. they were playing some of the top-ranked players in the nation. of course, art and patrick had good rankings, respectively, but they had been steadily dropping down the ranks since their losing streak began.
everyone at the match was rooting for art and patrick, but they didn't expect them to win. and you didn't know what it meant for your friendship with the boys that you were on the edge of your seat with your fingers crossed, praying they would win. for you.
they came out strong, waving to the crowd, but especially to you. and when the match began, you had never seen their reflexes so fast, their hits so precise. the other boys were gaining on them, but the deep grunts coming from art and patrick, the sweat running down their necks, it all showed they wanted this so fucking bad.
they won like it was easy. of course, they had actually tried incredibly hard--but they made it look nonchalant. and they looked at you as they hugged each other, celebrating a win that signified much more than fans saw on the surface.
they decided to cash in their prize that same night. that's what they said when they came up to you, beaming. their chests heaved, but their smiles were big. and nobody around knew exactly what they meant.
so you lay on patrick's bed, in your little skirt and a tank top, resting up on your elbows so you can watch them. you notice how they are both there; they didn't decide to go separately.
neither of them really say a word at first. patrick slips one of your shoes off and art the other. they look at each other as their hands run up your bare leg, until they reach the waistband of your skirt.
"do you wanna do the honors, artie?" patrick asks.
art quickly pulls your skirt down your legs. they admire the pink lacy panties you're wearing.
"take off your shirt." art tells you.
you do, quickly. you aren't wearing a bra. their breath hitches.
"fuck me." patrick lunges forward and sucks your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing against the sensitive bud. art goes for your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down to your collarbones. his strong hands feel your breast. you're trying not to moan, not to give them the satisfaction that this is for anyone but them. but you do.
art returns the favor by turning your face to his. he kisses you desperately, moaning into your mouth, his spit wet on your chin. patrick feels left out. he moves up your body by kissing your jaw on the other side, before he forcefully kisses your mouth. he is hungry. at a quick glance, you see how hard they are. but they don't pull out their cocks. they don't pull your hand to feel their erections. and they don't tell you to suck them off.
ininstead,stead their mouths travel downward, each of them pulling one of your legs apart. they press sloppy kisses down your chest, licking down your stomach, until they are laying on their own stomachs, looking up at you. patrick kisses your inner thigh. he pulls your panties down your legs.
"her pussy is so pretty." art admires. they're talking like you're not even there.
"look how fucking wet she is."
your legs shake as you bite your lip.
"should we take turns, or should we share?" art asks.
patrick is greedy, and he hooks both of his arms around your legs, his hands on your ass. he presses wet, hot kisses to your cunt and licks at your clit. your hips buck, and art pushes them down, cooing in your ear. you can tell he's jealous, that he wants to help too.
"good girl." art praises. his breath feels good against your ear, and you move to kiss him, your hands tangled in his pretty blond hair.
patrick's fingers move inside you. they're fat and soaked and his tongue feels good as it moves in circles over your swollen clit.
art pulls away from your mouth and patrick pulls the hem of art's shirt.
"come taste her."
your mouth hangs open as patrick pulls his fingers from you and offers them to art. and the moan you let out as art sucks them into his mouth is fucking pornographic.
and then art's mouth is on your cunt. his fingers press into your thighs and it hurts in the best way. art is louder than you expected, and louder than patrick. he spits on your cunt and spreads it open to admire your hole, soaked and pretty for them. he hums and moans and groans into your pussy, and patrick can't take it.
so they share you. their tongues touch and their spit mixes as they eat your pussy, their hips bucking into the bed.
"tastes so fucking good." patrick moans, his thumb pushing into you.
art looks up at you, at how fucked out you look. you cum on their tongues--both of them. and you watch as they continue to lap at your sensitive clit, begging you to cum just one more time for them.
they don't want this to be over. and you think about how this was what they wanted, this is what they decided on when you gave them that choice. this was their anything.
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astralee · 2 days
Text
party pooper
remus lupin x fem!reader
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parties are the worst. you decide that after your first ever party with your friends when you’re all pissed off your heads and throwing up. you’d sworn them off forever- well you did until a certain person entered your life.
‘certain person’ goes by the name remus lupin, one of the four marauders. he’s a rather sarcastic boy with a gorgeous smirk that’d knock the socks off of anyone. unfortunately for you, the other 3 marauders were a package deal that came along with your relationship and the package deal love throwing parties.
that’s how you end up here, surrounded by sweaty bodies that are shitfaced and all up over eachother. it’s like hell- scratch that. you’d much prefer hell, but for remus you’ll continue to go to the dreaded parties.
“still feeling alright?” remus quizzed when you shuffled over to stand between his legs. he was sat on the couch and the space next to him was sadly already occupied. “we can get off if you want.”
you’d love that, but remus is surrounded by his friends and he’s having fun. “better than alright, can i have some of your drink?”
wordlessly, he handed you the drink over and watched as you took a sip. when you finished, he had taken it out your hand, shoved it into marlene’s and reached up for you. “remus!” you chided as he gripped your hips and spun you around before pulling you down onto him. “i could’ve flashed the whole room.”
“you didn’t.” marlene chimed in with a goofy smile, she was definitely drunk. “wish you had though- have i ever told you how gorgeous you are?”
“don’t think so, you gonna tell me?” you grinned at her mischievously, the grin turning into somewhat of a smirk as you felt familiar hands roam around your thigh before settling in one place with a squeeze.
marlene grinned back just as cheeky. “can’t.” she worded simply. “think your fella is getting jealous.”
that brought a laugh out between you all, remus had definitely felt a little jealous. “i’m ready to go upstairs.” he brought his mouth to your ear so he could whisper. “shall we?”
“dunno.” you shrugged. “might stay with marlene.” she wasn’t even paying attention to you both anymore, you just loved to tease.
remus chuckled, stretching his hands around your thighs and poking his fingers just a little up your skirt. the pair of you weren’t usually up for a lot of pda but somehow you both end up really affectionate after a sip of alcohol “and your room is a state.”
remus groaned. “you can’t torture me because the boys are messy.” it was true, the three other boys in the room were beyond messy. remus likes to keep things neat, organised around his bed but the walk through the room to his bed is a hazard. “and we hate your room because the blonde girl is always eyeing me up.”
god she was always eyeing him up. you hadn’t even noticed at first, not until remus mentioned it and from then on you always caught the long stares she’d give him. it didn’t make you jealous, remus would never do anything to hurt you but you knew it made him uncomfortable. “alright let’s go up but if it stinks in there i’m not sleeping, okay?”
“it won’t stink.” remus promised. it probably would but there’s nothing a little spell won’t fix up. “come on then love, let’s get in bed.”
the pair of you ignored the loud protest coming from sirius when you announced you were calling it a night, too entranced in eachother to care and so excited you could finally leave the party
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Text
REPEATING OVER AND OVER, AND OVER, UNTIL YOU MAKE IT TILL THE END!
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YOU'LL NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN!
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synopsis// both of you stuck in a time loop until you can accept each other. you can not make it out alone no matter how hard you try.
pairing// katsuki bakugo x gn!reader
word count// 9.6k
contents// no quirks, angst, fluff ?, they r idiots, slow burn-ish? at least at first, profanity. like a lot. i stg they cuss every other sentence, it’s like i was a middle school boy who just discovered cuss words writing this, ooc bakugo probably, ages aren’t specified but they r adults, pure cringe but its mha and coming from me so did u expect anything different..?
notes// my last mha draft... im finally free.... anyway i wrote this ages ago but i rlly love this and it may or may not have been inspired by a fnaf song..... (it totally was)
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You wake up with a gasp, sitting up quickly to find everything in the room in the same place it was the last hundred times you woke up.
“A-fucking-gain?!”
You throw your legs over the side of your bed and reach for your phone, hoping for something different but getting nothing. There are no notifications, no services, and no matter how long you stare at the time, it never changes. You would know considering you’ve done this routine a hundred times. You throw your phone back onto the nightstand and slip your shoes on, the repetitiveness of it all making your head spin. You’ve got to be going insane; what other logical explanation could there be for reliving the same day over and over again?
"I don't know what I did to piss the universe off, but now it's pissing me off," you mumble as you walk out of your empty house—you'd know because you've checked every nook and cranny for the past hundred times. The minute you step outside, you shout at the air, the sky, the universe, the gods, whatever put you here, “Is this what you wanted? pay back? You fucking got it!” 
You stand there half hoping that something would happen, whether someone appeared or a voice would say something to you, but nothing; it’s just complete silence apart from the wind whooshing by. though that’s not to say people weren’t here. If you went far enough into the city, there were crowds of people walking around with no destinations; they seemed like NPCs. The only difference is that you can interact with NPCs, whereas the shells of humans you see in town don't talk, at least not to you. They don't even acknowledge you. It’s almost as if you’re a ghost, which is ironic considering how, when you were alive—no, that's not the right word, sentient maybe? Whatever the point is, when you were a productive member of society, you longed for something exactly like this. To slip by people like the wind, like a ghost, yet now that you have it, you wish for anything but this.
"God, if this is what the afterlife is like, I don't plan on dying anytime soon,” you mutter to yourself as you walk deeper into the city. “Maybe this is the afterlife? or maybe this is hell.”
You stare at your feet as you walk until you hit the point where there are empty husks of humans walking past, and at this point you lift your head, starting to wave at them and standing directly in front of them in a futile attempt to get their attention. Of course it serves to be useless when they walk right past you... just like they have the last hundred times you’ve tried. After a few more futile attempts, you begin walking past them toward a forest. This has been your routine for the entire time you've been trapped here, wherever here may be.
You check your home, walk outside, curse a higher being and ask what you've done to deserve this, contemplate life—or lack thereof?, walk into the city, try to catch someone's attention, and when that doesn't work, you walk off into the forest, spending the whole day there— or you would if time worked properly here—and eventually finding yourself at some random, poorly placed door deep into the forest. You stand right in front of the door; it mocks you, and you imagine yourself tearing it to shreds if it weren't for the fact that the minute you touch it, you're back at square one. You opt to sit in front of the door, just merely studying it; it’s not like there's really much else for you to do.
You don’t know how long you just sit there going back and forth between staring at the door and tearing out the grass from under your hands; had time worked properly here, you’re sure that the moon would have been out by now. You finally admit defeat—for the hundredth time. You stand up and wipe your hands clean of the dirt now laid upon them before you look around the door once more, hoping for something new to appear behind it or beside it, but nothing—the only thing behind the door is more empty forest. So with a sigh, you begrudgingly touch the door handle, and you immediately find yourself waking up with a gasp, sitting up quickly, with everything in the room in the same place it was the last hundred times you woke up again.
This time, though, you don't get up immediately; you lay back down in your bed with a sigh, pulling your blanket up to your chin. You’ve always been alone. This wasn't new to you, but at least before it was your choice. It wasn’t like people didn’t want to be your friend; you just didn’t want to be theirs. In some fucked-up way, you saw your hyper-independence as superior to how other people seemed to need and want friends. but now? Now you want nothing more than to be annoyed by your coworker; you want nothing more than to walk outside and run into someone who will acknowledge you; even if it isn't a positive interaction, it's still an interaction. and after being stuck here for ages, you would kill for an interaction. You throw your blanket off of you as you begin your routine, finally having enough of your pity party.
Check phone? Check.
Put your shoes on? Check.
Search every inch of your house? Check. 
Step outside and curse the universe? Check. 
Find yourself surronded by people where you cant tell if you’re the ghost here or if they are? Check! Wait—Is that a new person?
You've been here long enough to have memorized or at least vaguely remembered every single person in the crowd, but this new face in the distance isn't one you've seen before; it's unique, you'd remember it, so who is this? Is this a sign your time here is coming to an end? In a frenzy, you push your way through the crowd, ignoring all your thoughts. You stop a few feet in front of him; he’s still a bit away as you study him. His brow furrowed in a scowl, and he's muttering something under his breath that you can't quite make out, but you can tell he's frustrated by his facial expression and the way his hands are curled into tight fists at his side, knuckles paper white at this point.
He finally reaches you but ignores you as he walks past you, and you sigh, wondering why you thought he'd be the one to acknowledge you.
you frown, mumbling aloud to yourself in disappointment, “Do I really need any more NPCs here?”
suddenly though, he stops dead in his tracks like he heard you and he turns around to face you. Holy shit, he heard you?
“What the fuck did you say to me?”
You stare at him blankly before looking to the sides of you and even behind you. “Uh, are you talking to me?”
He looks at you like you’re stupid as he takes a few steps toward you, and subconsciously, you take a few back. “Of course I'm talking to you; who the fuck else would I be talking to?”
You put your hands out in front of you in a stop motion briefly, your face scrunching up in disdain. "Chill the fuck out, asshole, it was just a question."
“Chill the fuck out?” He repeats in disbelief and takes another step forward, while you stand still, tensing up to appear tougher. “I'm stuck in some weird ass place where, up to this point, no one except for your dumbass has even acknowledged me and you’re telling me to chill the fuck out?”
You roll your eyes at his outburst and ask curiously, “You just got here, didn’t you?”
“What the hell do you think? Where even are we?”
"A time loop of some sort,” you say nonchalantly as you shrug, though everything you’re feeling right now is anything but nonchalance.
He scoffs. “Time loop? You expect me to believe that stupid shit?”
You narrow your eyes at him. “Believe what you want, either way, you’re still stuck here, idiot.”
“Oh, Im the idiot for getting stuck here? What about you?”
“Me?” you scoff.
“You seem like you’ve been here longer than I have, and you’re still not out. So who’s the real idiot?”
You cross your arms and look away, grumbling, “Maybe I like it here.”
He looks you up and down before rolling his eyes and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I doubt that.”
Your gaze returns to him with a glare. “Fuck you, I was going to help you.”
“I don't need your fucking help,” he sneers. "You obviously have no idea what the fuck you're doing in the first place."
You walk away, flipping him off, and he does the same, both of you going your separate ways. Though once you hit the edge of the forest, you turn to look back and see if he’s anywhere near, but it’s like he never existed at all. back to the routine.
Enter the forest and walk for an unreasonable amount of time? Check. 
Reach the out of place, uncanny door deep in the forest? Check. 
Stare at it and imagine ripping it to shreds until it's nothing but dust? Check.
Finally sit down and accept your fate for a bit? Check. 
You sigh as you poke at the dirt, the patches of grass you pulled out last time returning to normal as if you had never ripped them out in the first place. Remember what you said earlier about wishing for human interaction? You changed your mind after meeting that random guy, who quickly reminded you why you disliked it in the first place. Although you’ve made up your mind about hating him, you can't help but wonder what he’s doing here in the first place. Obviously, you have no idea why you’re here either, but why did he just pop up after doing this a hundred times or more already? Why is he the only one who can suddenly acknowledge your existence? Maybe there was a glitch in your eternal hell; maybe this was an accident, and he’d be gone by the time you did this all over again. Back to the routine.
Stand up and clean your hands of dirt? Check. 
Touch the door handle and wake back up in your bed with a gasp? Check!
You groan and grip your head slightly; the action of being in one place only to suddenly be in another never fails to give you a slight headache. Today, you go through your routine quickly in order to get into the city faster. You want to know if he's still here so badly that you almost seem desperate. much to your dismay, and his—he’s still here and groans at the sight of you.
"What the fuck did you do?" he demands angrily.
You narrow your eyes at him. You regret coming here. “excuse me?”
“One minute I'm walking, and the next I'm back here."
“It’s called a time loop for a reason, idiot.”
“I don't fucking care what it’s called, just stop doing it," he snaps.
“Oh yeah, like I fucking control that! Let me just stop this whole time loop while we’re at it, huh?”
He says nothing; he merely flips you off and walks away, and you do the same.
Just like every other time you find yourself back at the door in the forest, this time you don’t wait to touch it; you immediately go for the handle and restart the time loop in spite of him snapping at you. He comes into your time loop and has the audacity to complain? No one told him to invade your eternal hell. The first handful of days (if you could even call them that) go the exact same way. Wake up, check phone, slip on shoes, check house, curse the universe some more, go into the crowd, argue with the blond-haired boy who seemed to piss you off beyond words, go your separate ways, go into the forest, find the door, think about tearing down said door, sit on the floor for a bit, and then finally go to touch the door only to do it all over again.
The next handful of days were similar, except you and the invader of your eternal hell eventually stopped arguing; you two still acknowledged each other, but only with a scowl and a flip of your middle fingers, walking straight past each other to do your own thing. You can't say you were upset with the arrangement because at least you didn't have to listen to his whining any longer. You just hated how something was added to the time loop yet it seems like nothing has changed at all. you're still stuck, and the door still won't budge. What exactly are you even supposed to be doing? How do you escape? Can you even escape?
You wake up with a gasp for what now seems like the thousandth time, and you're starting to feel the effects of being here for so damn long. You’re exhausted, your bones ache, and you feel like you could drop dead at any moment. Then again, who’s to say you aren’t already dead? You lazily go through your routine; everything is as it should be until you get into the city. The crowds are still there, but someone is missing. The only person who has acknowledged you is missing. Part of you is happy that he’s gone; it’s not like you two have had a productive conversation in the time he's been there; if anything, he was hindering your escape. but the other part?
The other part is a tad bit disappointed, for two reasons. that one, he managed to get out before you, and two, you’re all alone again. As you begin walking toward the forest, you groan. Who cares? It’s not like you needed him or wanted him here anyway; you could get out on your own. Sometime lost in thought, you finally made it to the entrance of the forest, stopping and resting against a tree. You wonder if the longer you stay, the worse you start to deteriorate, like whatever this place is doesn’t want you here in the first place. You frown, it’s not like you want to be here anymore than this place wants you here; you didn’t ask to get stuck in some stupid ass time loop.
“I’ve had enough of your games! let me out!” You scream into the woods, half expecting someone to respond, and someone does.
“Do you have to be so loud?” A deep voice comes from beside you, tone full of annoyance.
You jump slightly as you turn your head to the side to see the owner of the voice, and you’re almost disappointed to see it’s the blond boy with a permanent scowl and jaw clenched tight.
“What the fuck, you’re still here?” You ask breathlessly, still trying to calm your racing heart from his slight jumpscare.
He rolls his eyes and leans against a nearby tree to mimic you. “Where the fuck else would I have gone?”
"I thought you got out or something..."
"Clearly not," he says, tsking. “What is this?”
“A forest. What does it look like, idiot?”
“No shit, I mean, why are we here?”
You stare at him as blankly as your voice comes out, "We? How the hell did you even get here?”
“Followed you,” he says as he crosses his arms. 
“You... followed me?” you repeat curiously.
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
"Why?" you ask softly, catching him off guard. You almost miss how his eyes widen at the sudden shift toward him.
He sighs and looks away, preferring to take in his surroundings, which mainly consist of the seemingly endless forest. "I've looked everywhere else and there's nothing, so I'm assuming you've found something if you keep coming here."
You hum, so he’s not just an angry idiot after all; he’s an observant idiot too.
“So?” he asks with a small bob of his head. 
"So what?"
He scowls, which takes you by surprise because you thought he was already scowling... must just be his face then. “So, did you find something?”
“Oh,” you say. "Yeah, I did, kinda.”
He seems to perk up, impatiently asking, “What is it?”
You go silent briefly, unsure of how to explain a random, uncanny door deep into the forest. "uh- it's difficult to explain," you admit sheepishly.
“Just spit it out already, idiot.”
“No, because you probably won’t even believe me!” you snap in frustration.
He rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the tree. “Then show me.”
You stare at him with wide eyes as he walks into the forest. “What?” 
“Show me dumbass!” He barks back at you, not pausing to slow down.
You push yourself off the tree in a hurry, yelling as you run after him, “Can you fucking wait! You don’t even know where you’re going!”
He stops, but not without groaning dramatically, which makes you roll your eyes. You caught up to him quickly because he wasn't far away, but that didn't stop you from bending over and placing your hands on your knees as you breathed heavily in and out.
He looks down at you in slight disgust. “You didn’t even run that far, why are you acting like you're dying?”
“Because,” you breathe out heavily. "It takes a toll on you when you've been stuck here as long as I have!"
“Whatever, just hurry up.”
After a moment, you stand back up fully and jerk your head toward the forest, silently telling the boy, “Let's go.”
The walk is quiet; awkwardness hangs heavy in the air as you sluggishly lead the way. It makes you wish he had escaped, because then you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this.
“How long have you been here?” He asks, breaking the silence, which takes you by surprise, but you’re sure anything he does that isn’t just him scowling or yelling could take you by surprise at this point.
You clear your throat. “I dunno…. long.” 
“You don’t know?”
"I stopped counting after the hundredth time the loop reset," you shrug.
“Jesus christ, you’ve been here that long?”
“Unfortunately,” you sigh. 
Another moment of silence lingers between the two of you as you walk through the forest, but at least the awkwardness has subsided. Though how slowly you're walking is starting to irritate him. 
“Can you walk any faster?” he asks harshly. 
“I’m tired.” 
“Not my problem.”
“You know what?” you say, stopping dead in your tracks. “I think I’m actually gonna take a break.”
“What?” he asks as he watches you sit down on the floor, leaning back against a tree.
you smile up at him mockingly. “Yep! I’m super tired; I need a break.”
He scoffs. “Fuck you, get up.”
You shake your head. “Nah, I don’t think I will. If you wanna get there so bad, find it yourself.”
He glares at you, his lip twitching with the threat of turning into a sneer. “Fine, I will,” he says through clenched teeth.
You’re still smiling at him as you wave goodbye and watch him walk deeper into the forest. He won’t find it. You know that because the door is still a ways away—you've done this walk over a hundred times—he has no chance of finding it without you, so you'll just sit here and relax until he comes running back to you. Lord knows you need it.
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
Sometime during your relaxing, you ended up falling asleep. Which you didn’t even know was possible here, but nonetheless, it was well appreciated. You would have continued sleeping if it hadn't been for something softly kicking your legs. You frown and try to swat whatever is kicking you away without opening your eyes, wanting to sleep more, but the kicking doesn't stop. You finally, and begrudgingly, open your eyes to find the boy (who you knew would come back) is the one kicking you.
"Oh, you're back already," you yawn, rubbing your eyes.
He stared at you curiously. “Already?” 
You nod as you stand up. “I knew you’d come back.”
“Fuck you, you don’t know shit.” 
"Then why are you back?"
He tsks and looks away. “Whatever.” 
“That’s what I thought,” you say triumphantly. 
He says nothing; instead, he waits for you to start walking ahead so he can follow you. Your walking is much faster now, and although you're still exhausted, it’s much more tolerable now. It's as if the fog around your head has lifted, and you can function normally now. If time worked properly here, it would have been about an hour or two after you guys resumed walking when he finally decided to break the long silence.
“Jesus christ, do you even know where you’re going?” he asks in frustration.
You roll your eyes. “Of course I do. I'm not an idiot.”
“Debatable,” he mumbles under his breath.
You decide to ignore that and sigh. “We’re almost there chill out.” There's another lull of silence before you ask, "What's your name?"
He turns to look at you briefly with narrowed eyes before settling his gaze back in front of him. “What? Why the fuck would I tell you that?"
"We're stuck in a time loop together, so I thought it would be nice to know your name, but if you just want me to keep referring to you as an idiot, I'd be more than happy-"
"It's Bakugo," he cuts you off, clearly annoyed.
“I'm y/n,” you say with a grin—wait, you’re actually smiling at getting to know someone? That's odd; you would never... But you guess you could allow it just this once, considering the circumstances.
“Didn’t ask.”
You ignore him. “We’re almost there, by the way.”
“Fucking finally, what even is it?”
You’re close enough that you can see it in the distance. you point at it as you speak, “a-“
“A door?” he erupts, cutting you off and beginning to run off toward it.
You quickly run after him. “Bakugo wait, don't t-“
You suddenly awake with a gasp.
“Don't touch it,” you say to yourself with a groan. "Fucking idiot," you mutter as you roll out of bed, ignoring your routine and simply slipping on your shoes and running off into the city to find him again.
Once you arrive, like yesterday, you can’t find him, and you frown as you start walking toward the forest, because if it’s anything like yesterday, he’d end up there. At least you're hoping he’s there, because if he actually managed to get out before you by doing the same thing you’ve done for a hundred plus times, you would be furious. You arrive at the forest to find him already there, leaning against a tree, and you sigh out in relief as he stands up straight once he sees you.
"What the fuck happened?" he asks when you reach him.
You exhale heavily, slightly frustrated, a dull pain in your head adding to your frustration. "Well, if you had let me explain, I would have told you that touching the door resets the time loop."
"Oh,” he says blankly. “Sorry.” 
“You’re apologizing?..” You ask in slight disbelief, he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would, but then again, you don’t even know him. Who are you to judge him? Wow, you’ve been here so long that you’ve actually gotten to the point of not judging people; maybe you are going insane.
“Yeah.” 
“You don’t seem like someone who would.” 
He shrugs. “I wasn't, but, uh, I’ve been trying to work on it or something.”
“I’m not either,” you confess. “But, uh, for the record, I guess i’m sorry too… for you know, yelling at you?” 
A range of emotions seem to slather themselves onto Bakugo’s face. first anger, then confusion, and then disgust before his usual scowl returns. “Whatever. What now?” 
“Now we go back to the door.”
“And do what?”
“Stare at it? I don't know,” you sigh. 
“I’m sorry?” he says in confusion as his eyes immediately narrow in on you. “Is that all you’ve been doing? Staring at the fucking door?”
You throw your arms up in the air dramatically as you defend yourself, asking, “What the fuck else am I supposed to do? If I touch it, the time loop restarts!”
His eye twitches. “So we’re just gonna stare at it. Until what? We fucking die here?”
“Who’s to say we aren’t even already dead?” you mumble under your breath in annoyance. “Besides, do you have any better ideas?”
Bakugo stays silent. 
“Right, that’s what I thought.”
He tsks and starts walking into the forest. “Whatever, let's just go.”
You find yourself biting back a smile at what you consider a win, even if this wasn’t a challenge; you just have a terrible habit of seeing everything as a challenge... but nonetheless you find yourself walking with him side by side quietly. The walk was, of course, long, but not as long as last time considering you didn’t stop to sleep this time, so the two of you quickly found yourselves at the door. Both of you just stand there staring at it.
“Maybe it’ll actually do something this time,” Bakugo says, tilting his head at the door as if trying to look at it from a different angle.
You drop yourself to the ground, sitting down with a soft groan. “Try whatever you want in a little bit; doesn’t the time loop being reset hurt your head?”
Bakugo looks down at you and shrugs. “Haven’t noticed.” 
You laugh, though it comes out more like a huff of air. “You will eventually.”
Bakugo stares at you curiously, what you said having piqued his interest, as he plops himself down on the ground next to you. “How long have you been here?” 
You raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve already asked me that.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m asking again.” 
“I don’t know. My answer's still the same.” 
He nods slowly. “What was it like?” he asks. "You know, in the beginning, all alone?"
“You actually care?” you ask, wide-eyed and in slight disbelief.
He tsks and returns his attention to the door in front of him. “I don't,” he says harshly. “I’m just trying to make conversation; what the fuck else are we supposed to do?”
"Fair enough," you say, nodding slightly. "At first, I kinda liked it here."
“How?” 
“I liked being alone.”
“That’s fucking stupid,” he spits out. 
You frown. “You don’t look like the type to enjoy other people’s company either.”
“I don’t.” 
“Then what the fuck?”
"I don't like people, but I also don't like being alone," he says softly.
“You’re an idiot.” 
“Whatever,” he says. “So what? Do you not like being alone anymore?”
you shrug. “If being alone meant I didn’t have to deal with your dumbass anymore, then yes, I still like being alone.”
“Fuck you; you just complained about being alone,” he grumbled.
“I did not complain,” you explain. “I’m just saying I like being alone when it’s on my own terms.”
He hums. 
“And you?” you ask. 
"And me what?" he asks, his eyes narrowing at the door.
"What was it like when you first got here?"
“Oh,” he says before he thinks for a moment. “I don’t know; annoying more than anything. I have shit to do in the real world; this doesn’t help.”
You pull your knees in toward your chest. “Where do you even think we are?”
"Fuck if I know," he says, shrugging. "I just want to get the fuck out; if I was stuck here as long as you, I'd probably go insane."
You stare at him blankly. “You’re already insane, and I'm already insane.”
Bakugo side eyes you. 
“What other logical explanation is there for us being here? We’re obviously crazy.”
He huffs and you almost find yourself mistaking it for a laugh. "Yeah, I guess so.”
You feel your heart race a little, and although you two still bicker a bit, you can’t deny how much you're starting to appreciate his company. It's an odd feeling, really, appreciating company for a change instead of immediately trying to get rid of it. As you push yourself up onto your feet, you sigh. “Round two?” 
He nods as he copies your actions by standing up. “Guess so.” 
You take a deep breath before touching the door, only to gasp as you awaken, but this time there's another gasp. You look beside you and discover Bakugo in your bed, which causes you to fall out of it from shock.
"Jesus, why are you in my bed?!"
“Why are you asking like I fucking know?!”
You immediately rose to your feet, rubbing your head because, if the headache from the reset wasn’t enough, you also hit it when you fell out of bed. “What the fuck is going on…”
Bakugo quickly gets out of your bed and tsks. “Why’d it change?”
“Maybe the time loop likes us working together?” You ask rhetorically because it's not like Bakugo has an answer either.
“Yeah, or it hates us working together.”
“Whatever it is, at least something changed finally. Maybe other things changed too?” you wonder as you go to slip on your shoes.
“Do we plan on just going back to the stupid ass door every time?”
"It's not like we have any other options, Bakugo. Are you ready?”
“I fucking guess.”
The two of you venture off into the city, with nothing seeming out of place or changed, and it becomes obvious that the only thing that changed was Bakugo being in your bed when you end up reaching the door.
"So much for something changing," mutters Bakugo, frustrated.
You drop yourself to the ground again. “This is annoying.”
He mimics your actions. “No shit.”
A moment of silence falls between you two before you speak up. “Are you even real?”
Bakugo’s face scrunches up in annoyance and confusion. “What the fuck do you mean am i real?”
“I don't know! Maybe I have gone insane and just made you up!”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I'm real. I have a whole fucking life outside of this place,” he turns his attention to you, “Are you real?”
“Yes, I also have a whole fucking life outside of this place,” you snap back.
He hums, almost like he doesn't believe you, but he doesn't outright say it, and you quickly respond with a hum of your own before laying yourself down on the grass, looking up toward the never-changing sky. It's so blue and there are so many clouds that it almost looks fake, which makes sense given that this entire place appears to be fake, an empty husk of the real place that exists somewhere else outside of here.
"How was your life?" you inquire, seemingly out of nowhere.
Bakugo looks down at you. “Boring,” he says with a sigh. "It wasn't as boring as this place, but it was still fucking boring; at least I had friends and could do shit there."
You can't help but giggle. “You had friends?”
He scowls at you and flips you off before turning away and nodding. “Unlike you, I'm sure.”
You shrug, though it looks more like a jolt. “I prefer being alone.”
“You say that, but you’re not all that convincing.”
“Oh, fuck off and tell me about your imaginary friends,” you snicker and ignore his very wrong—very right— comment.
He bit back a smirk in response to your jab at him. Normally, Bakugo would despise anyone who dared to fight back, but right now? It was actually nice? which, the feeling within itself, made Bakugo want to hate you even more.
“Bakugo?” you ask after a few moments of silence. 
“Shut up, I'm thinking,” he snaps. "There are only three people I consider to be my friends."
You laugh. “What?”
“The rest are just.. acquaintances.”
You hum in content, your hands behind your head. “Tell me bout em.”
“There's this nerd; I've known him since we were kids,” he begins to explain. “I was a douche to him.”
"I can believe that."
Bakugo gives you a look that either says he wants to murder you or for you to shut up, and you merely grin up at him.
"He somehow forgave me, and yeah, we've been friends since."
“And the other two?”
“Some dumbass with shitty hair and another dumbass with pink cheeks,” he explains vaguely.
"Wow, I'm sure they really enjoy being called a dumbass," you state flatly.
He shrugs. "They should if they want to be my friend."
“Those are your only requirements? Tolerate being called a dumbass and anyone can be your friend?” you tease. 
“Shut up, at least I have friends.”
“I already told you, I like being alone!” you defend with a pout.
He hums as he lays himself down. “And I already told you I don't believe you.”
"Believe what you want," you say as you turn to face him, only to find him already looking at you. “Besides, what do you care?”
He shifts his gaze to the sky. “I don’t.”
You follow along with him, looking back up at the sky, mumbling, "Sure you don't."
Bakugo doesn't bother replying, and you don't bother trying to keep the conversation going. The two of you just lay there, staring up at the sky and listening to the trees sway in the wind.
You suddenly find yourself being woken up with small kicks to your legs, and you groan. You try to open your eyes only to be blinded by the sun.
“Jesus Christ!” you wince.
Bakugo groans as he places his hand over your face to shield your eyes from the sun. You finally get them to open, and you mutter a small thanks to him.
“Did I fall asleep?” you ask as you stand up. 
Bakugo shoves his hands into his pockets with a nod. “Yeah.”
“Sorry...”
"It's fine," he says, shrugging. “Round three?”
You nod as you stretch, which is a pointless action when you're about to be thrown into your bed, but you do it anyway. Bakugo touches the door, and you find yourselves immediately waking up with a gasp in your bed.
You jump straight up and rub your temples. “God, I will never get used to that.”
"Yeah, because the day you get used to that is the day you lose your mind."
You slip your shoes on and roll your eyes. “Ready?”
He stares at you blankly.
"Stupid question, my bad, damn," you quickly add, realizing he's not going to say anything.
When the two of you walk out of your house, Bakugo's steps are loud, and you can tell he's annoyed just by them. Bakugo tries to walk into the city only to be stopped by something.
"What are you doing?" you ask, watching him stagger backwards.
"It's not me," he snaps as he extends his hand in front of him, only to be stopped by something that isn't there, he kind of looks like a mime.
You hold back a laugh as you join him by his side, reaching out only to be stopped by an invisible wall of some sort; this makes your face drop. “What the fuck?”
“Exactly.”
“So what? We aren't allowed in the city anymore?”
"I guess not." Bakugo groans, annoyed. “Is there another way to the forest?”
You don't even get the chance to reply when the two of you hear rumbling. Both your heads snapping toward the noise only to see a newly carved out path to the forest in the distance.
You swallow hard, blinking at the scene in front of you. “You, uh, you saw that right?”
Bakugo nods slowly. “I did.”
You laugh nervously and extend your hands as if to show off the new path. “After you.”
“Fuck no, after you.”
“What are you scared? Coward.”
Bakugo glares at you. “Fuck you,” he says before starting to walk toward the path, and you smile in triumph.
The two of you are silent the whole walk, taking in your new surroundings for anything suspicious. This walk seems longer than the one from the city, but it's not like you expected anything different, and it doesn't matter when you finally get to the door.
"Why are things changing so suddenly?" you wonder as you stare at the door.
"Hell if I know," mumbles Bakugo, joining you in staring at the door.
“Do you think we’re doing something right?” you ask as you turn your head to look at him.
“Or something wrong.”
“God, this is so weird,” you sigh in frustration as you take a few steps back and sit down. 
He turns to look down at you, perplexed. “Oh, now it's weird? It wasn't weird the first hundred fucking times we stared at this door?”
"You know what I mean."
He rolls his eyes as he sits down a few feet in front of you. “Whatever.”
You both sit there in silence, your minds racing with confusion. Why are things changing now, and are they changing for the better or for the worse? You sit there picking at your nails while he sits there staring at the door like he’s trying to make it explode with his mind. After a while, Bakugo sighs, and this catching of your attention makes you look up at him. When he speaks up, you're about to ask if he's okay.
“What was your life like?” He asks out of nowhere, and you certainly were not expecting that to come out of his mouth.
“Oh,” you say in slight confusion. “Um, fine? I don't know; I mean, I didn't have friends-“
“Knew it,” he chimes in with a smirk. 
“Fuck off.”
"So, what did you have if you didn't have friends?" He asks flatly, not as if he really cares but as if he's just trying to avoid silence, which could be him caring in some ways.
“I had a job at a little coffee shop,” you recall with a small smile.
“I thought you would've worked from home or something.”
“Why?”
“Because you hate people and like being alone?” He says it almost condescendingly, like you should have already known the reason why.
“Huh,” you say flatly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Maybe you were subconsciously yearning for social interaction?
“I'm always right.”
You hum and lay yourself down. “What’s your full name?”
He lays down with you. “Why the fuck do you wanna know? You gonna stalk me?”
“You wish.”
“Katsuki Bakugo.”
“That’s a nice name.”
He closes his eyes. “I know dumbass.”
“You could’ve just said thank you.”
“Thank you,” he says harshly, like he's mocking you, but you ignore it and smile. “What’s yours?” he asks quietly.
“Y/n L/n.”
“My name is better, but yours is alright, I guess,” he says under his breath, like this is his best attempt at a compliment.
You laugh softly, and the noise causes Bakugo's cheeks to warm, which he tries to ignore and blames on the sun. You don't bother responding and close your eyes. Both of you are just laying there with your eyes closed, enjoying each other's company, or at least you're enjoying his. Which is odd; it makes you slightly nauseous to think that for once, you’re actually enjoying someone's company.
Had someone told real life you that you'd be enjoying someone's company, you would have laughed in their face and probably insulted them for not being as “independent” as you are. But despite all of that, you can't actually say you hate it—not at all, actually. but for the time being, you're blaming that on the circumstances. After a while, you find yourself opening your eyes, slightly wincing at the bright sun, but turning your head to look at Bakugo, who is staring up at the sky without a scowl on his face. Huh. You thought that scowl was permanent, though he actually looks surprisingly nice without one?
“Are you dead?” you ask out of nowhere.
Bakugo flinches slightly, taken aback by your voice. “Being dead would probably be better than this.”
“Rude,” you huff.
“I mean the situation, not you.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you tease. “Round four?”
He sighs defeatedly. “Yeah, I guess.”
You nod as the two of you stand up and quickly dust yourselves off. You step toward the door and find yourself hesitating.
“What are you waiting for?” Bakugo asks impatiently.
You shake your head and touch the door. You both wake up with a gasp, but you're not in your room; instead, you're back on the forest floor where you were just moments ago.
“What the fuck?” you exclaim aloud.
"Did you touch it?" asks Bakugo, looking down at the ground beneath him.
“Of course I did!” you explain. “I don't understand?”
Bakugo quickly stands up and offers a hand out to help you out. You hesitate to take his hand, making him shake his head as if to silently ask, “What's the problem?” You sigh as you accept his help.
Once your up, Bakugo pulls his hand away and asks, “Should we try to go back to your house?”
“Uh, yeah, sure, that's a good idea.”
Bakugo nods back, and you find yourself walking out of the forest, a strange feeling given that you're always walking in, never out; it's eerie in a way. You’ve only been walking for, what you assume, a few minutes when he speaks up.
"Is that actually your house?" he wonders. "Like in the real world, I guess."
You shake your head. “Nah, I just call it that considering how long I've been here, you know? I actually live in an apartment.”
He hums. “Me too.”
"You too?"
“Yes? Why the fuck do you sound so shocked?” he asks with a confused shake of his head.
"I don't know... I guess you seem like the type of person who would say they're too good for an apartment," you explain with a shrug.
“It’s cheaper, and because I have a roommate that makes it even more cheap.”
“Oh!! Let me guess!” you speak up excitedly. “Is it the nerd? Or the shitty hair? Oh or the pink cheeks?”
He finds himself chuckling at your use of his nicknames for them, and the sound goes straight to your stomach. Butterflies immediately begin to grow there. “It's the nerd,” he says once he’s finally composed himself.
You nod with a smile. “My roommate is a cat.”
He hums, and before he can respond, he walks straight into something, just like the last time, except this time it's not the invisible city wall he walked into but the middle of the forest. You immediately find yourself frantically grabbing at the invisible force.
“Are you serious?” you fume. “Now we’re trapped in the fucking forest?”
Bakugo finds himself walking toward the sides, only to find that those are blocked off by nothing as well. “So what? we can’t leave?”
“It doesn’t want us to leave,” you correct him. 
“Who the fuck is it?” Bakugo asked with a confused glare.
“Whatever the fuck is doing this.”
Bakugo sighs out in defeat as he places his hands on his hips, letting his head drop as he just stares at the floor. “Now what?” he mumbles.
You rub your face in frustration. “We go back to the door, I guess.”
He lifts his head and tsks. “Great.”
The walk back into the forest is tense, but since you two had only made it halfway before being stopped, it wasn't that long. Still, the air between you two had become suffocating from your respective frustrations with being trapped here, his more so than yours. Finally, you two arrive at the door, and Bakugo collapses to the ground with a loud groan.
“This sucks,” he seethes.
You shrug as you take a seat in front of him. “It could be worse.”
“What?” he asks harshly. “Please, please, please enlighten me on how this could be any worse.”
You keep your gaze on the ground, nervously pulling out the grass as you speak. “Well, I mean, yeah, of course it sucks! like, really bad! and like, yeah, sure, the universe seems very against me right now, but at least I have you?”
"Huh," he says blankly before remaining silent for a moment, and you grimace; you should not have said that. Why the fuck would you say that? “Yeah.”
Your head shoots up to see him already staring at you softly. “Yeah?” you repeat. 
"Yeah, you're right," he says slowly, almost painfully so.
You can't help but break out into a wide grin. “Bakugo? Are you actually starting to care about me?”
He bites back a smile as he rolls his eyes. “Oh fuck off.”
You laugh and lay yourself on the grass. “Lay with me.”
He hums curiously at you yet listens, laying himself right next to you, leaving only a small space between you two. You ignore the strange urge to take his hand in yours.
“Do you think we would’ve been friends in, like, real life, I guess?”
“I never agreed to being your friend,” he points out flatly, ignoring your question. 
“Shut up, Bakugo.”
He snickers. “Probably not though.”
You feign offense, or you feign feigning offense, because that does actually hurt your feelings slightly. “Rude…”
“Shut up. I don't mean it like that,” he reassures. “I mean, you even said it yourself—you don't like people, and I only consider like three people my friends.”
You frown. “I guess you’re right.”
"It's futile to think about that shit now; I doubt we'll ever go back," he mumbles, disappointed.
You ignore how much you’re not disappointed that you might not ever go back anytime soon. “Round five?”
Bakugo nods as he stands up. “Yeah.”
You try to get up, but he stops you. You stare at him curiously.
“If we’re just going to end up lying back down when it restarts, maybe if you’re already lying down, your head won't hurt as much?” he questions thoughtfully. 
You ignore how warm your cheeks feel at his concern and lay back down. “Yeah, maybe.”
Bakugo nods at you before touching the door, and still, both of you end up waking up with a gasp in your positions from a moment ago, but your head doesn't hurt this time.
Bakugo ignores the disappointment swimming in his stomach and turns his gaze to you, who appears shocked. “Did it work?”
You nod slowly before looking at him with a smile. “Yeah, it did! Thanks Bakugo..”
He presses his lips into a tight line as if to stop a smile or ignore how hot his face feels. “Yeah, whatever. Uh, should we go see how far we can make it out?”
You stand up and extend your hand to him, and he quickly accepts it. “Yep!”
The two of you don't even make it ten feet away before being blocked by an invisible wall. The two of you stumble back and stare at each other wide-eyed before both of you immediately start walking out toward the sides, only to be stopped again.
"Oh my fucking god, it boxed us in," Bakugo barks. 
You laugh out nervously. “Um, so, like, is it just gonna keep getting smaller?”
Bakugo's head snaps toward you in concern as your voice shakes, and he notices you beginning to tremble.
"N-not that it's a big deal; I'm not claustrophobic or anything, I'm just curious." You panic, your chest heaving up and down.
Bakugo immediately runs up to you (not that he has to run far) and places his hands on your shoulders, roughly gripping them in some poor attempt to ground you, which works slightly because now you're staring at just him, getting lost in his eyes.
“It’s fine, It's gonna be fucking fine,” he says harshly. “I’ll get us out of here, okay?”
You just stare at him, blinking at him blankly.
He shakes you gently. “Y/n?”
you swallow harshly. 
“Y/n!”
You flinch. “Y-yes?”
"You're going to be fine," he assures, softly smiling at you.
And although you know he can't guarantee that, he can't guarantee that you'll be okay or that he’ll get you guys out of here, you still believe him.
you nod. “Okay. I trust you.”
He nods and returns his hands to his sides before walking back to the door (not that he has to walk far) and sitting down, patting the ground in front of him to invite you to join him. You two sit in comfortable silence, but you can't stand it; you need to talk about something or you'll start spiraling at the thought of the invisible walls closing in on you.
“Do you think we’re supposed to be learning something?” you inquire, pulling your knees into your chest.
He leans back on his palms as he stares at you through furrowed eyebrows. “What?”
“Like a lesson?” you elaborate. "Isn't that why most people get trapped in time loops?"
He gives a half-shrug and thinks for a moment. “I guess? Do you think you’re learning a ‘lesson’?” 
“Maybe?” you say as you place your head on your knees.
Bakugo stares at you, and when you don't say anything, he bobs his head as if to tell you to go on.
“I don't think I like being alone as much as I say I do.”
"Oh?" he says, tilting his head at you with a cocky grin.
You roll your eyes at him through a smile. “Shut up… I'm just saying you’re not so bad; your company is actually enjoyable?”
“Of course it is; It’s me,” he boasts. 
“I regret saying anything.”
“I get it, though.”
“You do?”
He nods. “I mean, I get it through my lesson?”
You bobbed your head at him in the same way he did at you.
"Maybe I don't hate having or making new friends as much as I say I do," he admits quietly.
“Of course you don't; it’s me,” you mock with a shit-eating grin.
He stares at you just smiling fondly, not even a laugh, or a fuck off. No, he's just staring at you as if you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, as if you created the universe—no, scratch that, as if you are the universe. But before you or he can say anything, you hear something rattling, specifically the door handle rattling.
Both of your heads turn toward the door, watching it rattle before looking back at each other and slowly rising in unison.
“Get behind me,” he whispers harshly. 
“I can take care of—“
“Y/n,” he snaps through clenched teeth in an attempt to hush his voice.
You sigh and begrudgingly agree, placing yourself behind him as you two walk toward the door.
He takes a deep breath before whispering, "Round six?"
You nod slowly. “Round six.”
You gasp and sit up quickly, instinctively looking to your side for Bakugo, but you're met by your cat.
He paws at you, and you just stare blankly at him, your chest heaving up and down rapidly. Your cat climbs onto your lap, and you begin to pet him as tears sting your eyes and you take in your surroundings. Though your moment of realizing you're back home is ruined by a phone call. You immediately pick up.
“Bakugo?” you say breathlessly. 
Your coworker clears her throat awkwardly. “uh what? It’s mina, y/n. Where are you? I mean, I know you don't like me, but at least come to work!"
You exhale heavily and rub the tears from your eyes harshly. "I'm so sorry, Mina- I'll be there as soon as I can."
“Oh, uh, it’s fine. Take your time. See you soon!” She says it softly, obviously taken off guard by your apology and lack of hostility.
You hang up quickly and sniffle. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. How long has it even been? Has any time even passed here? When you look at the date, it is the same as it was before you were thrown into the time loop. It could have been months there, but here? It had been merely seconds, if that. You feel your heart break at the lack of Bakugo here; you had been stuck with him for probably weeks, and now you’re... not. And you’re supposed to just go back to being a productive member of society like nothing happened? Like he didn't just single-handedly change your view on being alone? You sigh and shake your head as you pick your cat off of you, now is not the time to have an existential crisis, you have a job to get to. You set your cat down and practically dash to get dressed, not caring enough about even looking presentable as you grab your things and run out the door, getting to your job in record time.
☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。
Mina is surprised to see you almost break through the door. “I told you to take your time,” she says with a frown.
You shake your head and bend over as you catch your breath. “No, it's okay,” you say through ragged breaths.
She just stares at you silently until you calm down and approach her behind the counter. “I'm sorry,” you say once you've reached her.
She laughs. "It's fine; being late isn't such a big deal."
You frown; god, she's really gonna make you say it, isn’t she? “No, I mean, I'm sorry about, uh, always being an asshole towards you and stuff,” you start mumbling toward the end, of course you mean it but you still find it quite embarrasing. 
“Oh! Thank you? Um… Did something happen?”
You let out a breathy laugh that almost sounds sad, if that's even possible, and if it isn't, you're making it so. “Uh, yeah, you could say that.”
Mina notices how your demeanor has wilted and places a comforting hand on your shoulder while giving you a small smile.
You return her smile before sighing. "I'm gonna go put my things in the back."
While in the back, you hear the shop bell ring, indicating that a customer is approaching, so you hurry and put your belongings away to assist Mina. Once you're back out there, you don't notice how the customer is waiting by the counter, where you would hand them their coffee. Your main focus is just on making the drink as Mina hands you the cup with what they want written on it. You make quick work of it as Mina starts taking other orders from people beginning to walk in, and in record time you finish the drink, walking to the side of the counter where people pick up coffees. You turn the cup around to look for a name and feel your heart drop when you see it.
Your brow furrows as you mumble, "Bakugo?"
When he hears your voice, Bakugo's head snaps up from his phone, and he doesn't even try to hide the smile that has now appeared on his face. “Y/n?”
"Holy shit!" you exclaim excitedly as you lose your grip on his drink and it splatters everywhere, Bakugo laughing at how half of it is now on your clothes and you can't help but laugh along with him.
“You plan on remaking my drink?”
You nod quickly and hurriedly speak, “Yes! but, um, can you stay after?”
He smirks. “What, was our time together not enough for you?”
You roll your eyes playfully at him. “If I agree, will you stay?”
"Maybe."
You sigh. "Yes Bakugo, our time together wasn't enough for me."
Bakugo chuckles softly. 
“Yeah Y/n, I’ll stay.”
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laurorne · 2 days
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༊*·˚ CRAVING YOUR WARMTH | aegon ii targaryen x targaryen bastard sister!reader
summary: two dragons who seek to move closer for warmth during their grief must remain apart, as they can only hurt one another with their sharp teeth and barely contained flames. though they both share the intentions of a close relationship, they're unable, for reasons they cannot avoid.
content: targaryen incest, angst, allusion of self-mutilation/harm, bastardphobia in westeros, night after intimacy suggested, self-hatred, blood, wonky metaphors and personification, no beta we die like vizzy t, badly written angst, that damn necklace
word count: 1.5k
a/n: let me tell you that i struggle writing angst, but god do i love reading it. i'm like my own self entertaining paradoxical concept and it astounds me
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A gentle hand smoothing over his back is what stirs him from the throes of sleep, nails skating along his marked skin softly enough to tickle. He shifts as the hand moves from the expanse of his back up to his hair, rubbing circles into the crown of his head. Twirling bits of hair between deft fingers as she presses a kiss to the slope of his shoulder.
He hums, limbs stretching out clumsily as he rolls onto his side, fingers weak as his hand dances along the goose-down duvet until it reaches her. Her, and her softness, and her warmth.
“Wife.” He’s barely awake, even with the exasperated sigh that comes from his older sister.
“We are not wed, Aegon.” A gentle reminder from soft lips, her eyes taking in his tired demeanour, the curve of his brow.
She brushes the strand of choppy hair from his face, thumb dragging along the apple of his cheek.
He doesn’t speak for a moment, lids finally fluttering open as he stares up at her with those watery eyes. The ones he knew made her weak to suggestion. He lets his hand creep up her calf –where he can still feel the divets of scars from their childhood running through the gardens– until it finds home on the hand she has in her lap, he threads his fingers with hers. The number of rings adorning her fingers was thanks to him: he and his obsession with keeping his older sister glamoured. 
Imported Dornish rings that gleamed with the heat of the sun, Essosi ornate cloth and dresses that were far from the modesty of Court, hair pins adorned with pearls from the Summer Isles, and an intricate necklace crafted from the smelted metal of a Valyrian sword, inlaid with gemstones he had pulled from the Red Keeps vaults.
She was wearing it now, the stones gleaming under the sun that spotted through the lace curtains of her room. The engraved details scatter the few beams of light they catch like dew drops upon spider silk. The stones dangle between the valley her breasts create, the smallest of them twirls some intricate dance as she shifts. Like molten silver, it fits her without any of the stiffness metal should have. 
“We should be.” He glances down at his hand intertwined with hers and watches her thumb rub over his —in the way she always has ever since childhood— it makes him all the more rueful.
He’s hopeful, far beyond it. His bones ache and his head throbs from a swelling hangover, and he feels his throat ache something terrible at its use. His eyes trail from their hands to her face, he wants anything aside from sorrow to be there.
It’s worse. 
Her brows are furrowed as she stares down at him with pity, oh how he wishes it wasn’t pity.
“Oh, sweet boy.” She pulls her hand from his grasp and holds his face in her gentle hands with all the care he needs. “Some things, they just can’t be.”
His lip curls, a pathetic smile covering his visage as he cups the backs of her hands in his own. “But they could. Helaena would not care, she loathes our marriage. As do I. We could take Valyrian vows on Dragonstone. Just as our sister and uncle have. We could leave.”
“Aegon.” A wistful breath of his name, pained and twisted with grief of things that never were and never will.
“We don’t need to stay. Just you and I, riding atop Sunfyre. Across the Narrow Sea.” He moves onto his knees, staring into her wet doe-like eyes as he speaks. He doesn’t leave her an opportunity to doubt him. Doesn’t allow her to pull away as he keeps her hands on his jaw.
Her lips twitch and so do her fingers against his. “Aegon, don’t be foolish.”
“You mustn’t know what you mean to m-”
“Aegon, please.” She tries to pull away now, but he winds his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and presses forward. Wine-stained lips crushing against the curve of her nose, fluttering across her brow like the gentle wings of a cotton moth as it devours silks and linen allied— devourer of all things beautiful and plain. 
He drags his lips to hers finally, soaking her up in a way only someone as depraved as he could. It’s like stretching out upon a rock after not feeling the son for years, like stripping yourself of shackles you’ve worn since birth. Her lips are chapped, a split in her lips from all the worrying she does to the poor thing scratches along his upper. He surges forward, pulling her so fully against him that it fills some empty part of him, like a puzzle piece that’s never been slotted into place. But oh —how it has— and how it always disappears just as quickly as it comes to him. He licks at her bottom lip, sucks it into his mouth and shudders out a breath as she reciprocates. Her lashes fluttering against his cheeks as they finally shut, as she cups his neck and presses her butterfly kisses onto him, licks into his mouth as she breathes hotly across his face in a way only Aegon can enjoy.
He nips at her tongue accidentally, overexcited and eager as he is. And that seems to bring her back from whatever hole he had dragged her into. But he persists, hand drifting down to the smooth metal of her necklace as he thumbs at a jewel. He tries to savour her presence even as her face scrunches and her fingers fist the hairs behind his ears. It nearly pains Aegon, with the way his head tilts away from her just slightly, Adams apple jumping against pale skin as he stares oh-so adoringly, heady breaths stinking of wine fanning her bruised lips.
“We could start a family in Essos. As many children as you want.” He desperately reaches for her again.
“Aegon.” 
“A home in Braavos, on the beach. Where we could lo-”
A hiccuped sob that withers in her throat is what stops him, punches the wind from his lungs.
Her lips are pursed and her hands have loosed upon his hair and move to cup his ruddy cheeks. Nails pressing into the flesh of his face hazardously. His eyes are dark and his lips part as he stares up at her, he sees the tears edging along her waterline. That deep frown she has when she’s trying not to cry, whether it's about something he had done or when she’s ordered by their Grandsire to stop her hysterics.
“Aegon,” It’s a sullen whisper as she lets his face go entirely, fingers slipping down his chest before they land in her lap again. “I am not a trueborn daughter. I will never be. I am not right in the mind. I will birth lunatics and monsters and wailing death. You can’t love me.”
He doesn’t know what to say, for once he has no sharp-tongued quip or comment. He pushed her from a height, just when she had finally reached the top of her spire. He retracts, fingers loosening from the grip he had on her pale hair, and lets her fall back onto the plush of her bed as she stares up at him like he’s burnt her. Like he’s dragged a dagger across the soft of her flesh and told her he never loved her. She pushes herself away, curling in on herself as tears cut through the flush of her cheeks. A wobbly exhale, and another as he drags a hand through her hair.
Her fingers dance down her neck and across the skin of her arms where they find home on the pale scars marring the upper parts of her arms. He can see her fingertips quivering with the urge to dig. To pull at chords of muscle beneath her skin and scratch at her bones. She had told him about things she saw. Things that hunted at the edge of her vision and scattered when she went looking. Dreams that came to the waking world with her. A pale man with the stench of darkness seeping from his pores.
“I love yo-” He leans forward to comfort her. 
“You don’t.”
“I know that I love you.”
“You know nothing, Aegon.” She pulls herself to the edge of the bed and drags herself to stand, the silk bedsheets slip away and her goosebumps raise upon her bruise-marred skin, she’s as bare as the day she was born. Her throat is too tight and her necklace feels heavy as she stumbles to the secret passage, she slips from the room unbidden and leaves a smudge of blood on the wooden grain of the bookcase as Aegon sits in her bed. Salty tears of his own roll down his face as he clenches and unclenches his fists.
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archangeldyke-all · 2 days
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My girlfriend spent all of yesterday mad as hell at me because I left her for another woman while she was stuck in a coma for years IN HER DREAM and I let this woman become the step mother to our children. We don’t even have kids yet and this entire nightmare scenario was FAKE but I still spent all of yesterday making up for it LMAOO
I’ll do anything to make my girl happy….no matter how ridiculous. How about Sevika getting mad at Reader for the same thing and Reader spends the day making it up to Sevika?
From personal experience…flowers, lots of cuddles and kisses, and loving validation seem to do the trick! 😂
And good head
LMAOOOO i was reading this like 😦 until i read that it was a dream l;fajsdkfa;slkjd tell your girlfriend she's hilarious
men and minors dni
"wake the fuck up."
you snap awake, immedietly on guard and worried by the tone in your girlfriend's voice. your eyes fly around the room, looking for the issue. you can't find anything. "wha?" you ask, turning over to look at sevika.
oh shit. she looks pissed.
fuck. did you forget to take the garbage out last night?
"wha's wrong?" you ask, rubbing your eyes.
sevika smacks your shoulder, and you flop back down on bed from the force of it. "you fucking cheated on me!" she says.
you blink, still trying to wrap your just-awaken mind around her words. "i... did?" you ask, trying to remember the affair you've somehow forgotten.
"i was in a fucking coma! and you didn't just leave me-- you left me to become step-mommy for some bitch and her ugly ass kids!"
"what!?" you ask.
"in my dream, jackass!" sevika growls.
you sigh. ooooh. that makes so much more sense.
a little giggle slips out of you, and sevika frowns, and makes to leave the bed.
"wait, sev!" you squeal, scrambling after your girlfriend and hugging her waist. she huffs, but stays in bed as you try to get your giggles under control. "i'm sorry, baby." you say.
"sorry's not good enough!" sevika whines.
you laugh again. "i didn't even do anything!"
"yes you fucking did!"
"okay, okay." you say, holding your hands up in surrender. you gently rearrange your bodies so sevika's laying in your arms, scratching her head and pressing kisses to her scalp. "how can i make it up to you?" you ask.
sevika sighs against you. "you can't. i'm too hurt. i think we have to break up." she says.
"don't even fucking joke about that." you groan.
she huffs. "fine. make me breakfast?" she requests. you smile, then kiss her forehead.
"i can do that."
you assume that once you had sevika her breakfast, you'll be off the hook for dream-you's mistakes.
you're wrong.
when sevika brings you her empty plate to wash, you try to place a kiss on her cheek. she quickly dodges it.
"what the fuck!?" you squawk.
sevika shrugs. "no kisses for adulterers."
"i didn-- it was a dr-- you were in a coma!"
"oh, so you'd leave me if i was in a coma in real life?!"
you gulp-- she's got you. so, thinking on your feet, you reach forward, slide your hand under your girlfriend's shirt, and pinch her sensitive nipple.
she squeaks. you giggle. "b-babe, stop!" sevika whines.
"gimmie a kiss." you request, puckering your lips. sevika darts forward and kisses you, and you release her nipple. she huffs, one of her hands coming up to protectively cup her tit.
"you're an asshole."
"i'm your asshole. and i'll be your asshole until the day i die, even if you're in a coma." you promise her, pressing your foreheads together. sevika sighs softly, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of her lips, and relief floods your body at the sight.
finally-- she's over her dream.
wrong.
sevika spends the rest of the day pouting at you, getting you to do increasingly ridiclious chores and favors for her to prove your love.
you do each of her requests, of course. you could never say no to her puppy eyes. plus... you can see the real hurt under all the teasing. a cheating dream is a nightmare in its own right, and if the comfort sevika needs afterwards is you doting on her all day then so be it. you're happy to remind her how devoted you are to her.
so, you shove a plate of cut fruit into her hands at midday, refill her water bottle each time she asks.
you cover in kisses, sure to be even clingier than you usually are (which, according to jinx, is already at dangerous levels of disgusting), give her a nice long back massage after lunch.
you whip up one of her favorite meals for dinner, and put on her favorite of your panties for after dinner.
and, when you're both finally crawling into bed at the end of the night, you turn over on your side and smile at your girl.
"you still mad at me?" you ask.
sevika huffs. "no." she says. "'m gonna miss being spoiled though." she whispers. you snort.
"like i don't spoil you everyday anyways."
sevika smiles shyly, and then she shoots forward to bury herself in your arms.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll
@sevsdollette @ellieslob
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brackishkittie · 18 hours
Text
ex-factor, abby anderson
— toxic!abby anderson x black!reader
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synopsis: toxic abby headcanons because I’m having a really bad abby brainrot rn. 😵‍💫😵‍💫 ( I’ll probably make a full fic abt this later. )
c/n: very very nasty hate(?) sex, choking, slapping, strap riding, degradation, overstimulation, mirror sex, abby cussin you out, hair pulling, clit slapping. ( it’s alot I know..) she’s horrible tbh.
a/n: THIS SHIT TOOK SO FUCKING LONGGGG. I’ve been working on this shit for like maybe 6 months because I’ve been putting it off for so long but it was worth it…😞🙏🏾 (edit:) this was supposed to come out in 2023. ( INCONSISTENT ASS !!! )
daily click | ways to help palestine | important tlou post
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idea inspo: @beetlejuice-e ofc I gotta give my creds n inspo!! pls check out niyah’s works especially her toxic abby series!!
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✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who will surely text yo ass off a burner account on insta and if you don’t answer that? girl no caller id will definitely be callin you and cussin you out.
“who the fuck do you think you’re blocking?” her voice rings out on the other side of the screen. “abigail don’t play on my phone please..” you sigh loudly due to how sick of her bullshit you were. “oh I’m playin on it. unblock me.” she replies swiftly. “girl you not about to irritate me on MY phone. bye.” and you hang up. abby won’t back down though. she’ll be RELENTLESSSSS over that unblock. she’ll even post ts on her story talkin bout “unblock me.” ( obviously you’ll unblock her..but she annoyin asl!! )
✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who’ll be mad at you for posting you and your friend together. even if she has met said friend or knows them in general, she don’t gaf. she’ll slide up on the story with a “who’s that?” and you be like “that’s so and so” and then here go abby ass.. “why she so fucking close?? tell her move a bit.”
✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who comes to your house mad asl because you didn’t pickup the phone after you two got into an argument. she’ll bang on your door and she won’t go away until you let her in. when you do let her in though, she’s cussing you out and you two get back to arguing. she’s all in your face and yelling at you for not answering and acting “bitchy”. you manage to push her away from you and walk into your room, but all she does is follow you into your room while still angrily screaming at you. “where the fuck are you going?” abby is absolutely livid and staring you down. “I’m trying to get away from you, abigail.” you respond with an obvious hint of annoyance. abby who doesn’t say a word, pushes you onto the wall and leaves barely any space between you two. “who the fuck are you talking to, y/n? let me know right fuckin now.”
✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who loves it everytime you get surprised when she takes the initiative of grabbing you by your face and pushing her tongue deep into your mouth. her hands groping and smacking your ass. abby throws you onto the bed, already taking off her black t-shirt and signaling for you to take off your clothes. you knew the drill. it was a never ending cycle and you fell for it everytime. abby lifts your legs onto her shoulders and smiles as soon as her eyes fell onto your pretty pussy. “fucking slut. I barely did anything yet.” she said as you felt her fingers brush your clit. “I want you to keep your eyes on me. if you look away, you won’t be able to cum.” you nod and watch her slip two fingers into your wet cunt, watching her tongue putting in work. she sloppily eats you out like she’s been dreaming of it.
you shut your eyes and almost instantly you jumped once abby slapped your clit. “I said to keep your fucking eyes on me..” her nails dug deeper into your soft skin, she’s eating you out with such aggression and knowing that turned you on even more. you gripped her hair and bucked your hips. you felt yourself reaching your high and your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open. “holy shittttt!— abby please..” you continued watching her tongue work in and out of you, her thumb rubbing at your sensitive clit, and her eyes shooting up at you making sure you were watching her like she told you to. you thought maybe she was just gonna go easy on you tonight because it was a small fight, right? “face down. ass up.” she said as she glared at you.
✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who loves seeing you take her strap, her eyes almost glued to the mirror as your ass bounced off her. abby fucking the anger out of you so well that you nearly forgot why you were so mad at her. abby taps your face lightly when she sees you basically go blank for a second. “don’t pass out on me now baby. you had all that fuckin mouth for me earlier.” she stuffs two fingers into your mouth and you finally find the energy to let out some form of words. “too fucking muchhh! fuck..!” your mouth agape when you feel abby fucking into you deeper. “so fuckin nasty..” she grins and reaches for your hair, pulling and tugging at it while picking up her pace as she drilled the strap into you. you were too fucked out to even speak at this point. your head was spinning, your thoughts were scrambled, and your heart was racing. abby pulled her fingers out of your mouth and looked at you in the mirror, “look at me in the mirror, pretty. are you ready to apologize?” abby tilted her head. she knew everything was her fault but for her to apologize for it? hell no. “fuck you abigail.” you responded quickly as she miserably pounded into you. her grin was completely wiped off her face in an instant once you said that.
✮ ˚ — toxic!abby who found amusement in you riding her strap. your body clearly tired and about to give out but all she does is plant kisses on your tits and grope them, sucking and licking your tender nipples. “abby please..I’m sorry! no more! I can’t- take it.” you’re losing it at this point. you’ve reached a new point of ‘fucked out’ and abby was gonna use that shit to her advantage. “say it again.” abby stared at you intently — she knew exactly how to make you forget about everything and that was through the movement of her hips. “I love you a lot baby, you gotta stop making me mad..” she purred at you with a subtle smirk on her face. “oh my god.” you pant out, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling yourself closer to her. you place your chin onto her shoulder and continue to roll your hips, bouncing on her strap needily. you can sense yourself reaching your high as you dug your nails into her skin. she snakes her hand around your waist and whispers to you softly, “deep breaths baby, let it out. cmon.” abby coos as she talks you through through your orgasm, rubbing your back ever so gently.
✮ ˚ — toxic!abby whose way of aftercare was to clean you two up, cuddle you, and maybe..subtlety gaslight you into believing that you’re the reason she acts the way that she does. she’s treating you as if you were delicate almost like a small bubble. abby knew that you being devoid of energy, her being so gentle with you, and talking to you with the most smoothest and kindest voice she could put on, you would fall for it. you had your head on her chest, basking in her scent and letting her delude your thoughts like it was nothing. abby knew it was wrong. did she feel bad? in another universe maybe. she just wanted you to herself. “you know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, right? I love you so much baby.” she said to you sweetly. all you could to is hum in response while you smiled at the affection that she was showing you. to you and abby, this was just another friday..but to your friends…that’s its own story for another day.
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tags: none cs I’m js clearing drafts out. 🧘🏾 🎀
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