#except instead of hatred it’s annoyance

[balteredsworld]

turning point. gregory house

🥼🩺 | you and house despise each other. today's supposed to be any other night, but house kisses you.

warnings/tags! light enemies-to-lovers, angst if you squint your eyes, younger woman x older man, emotional revelations, no dialogue, and they kiss!

masterlist : greg house n all

a/n: i can't believe people are sending in things in my inbox wow if you have any requests/ideas or little topics of conversations don't shy away and send them my way! enjoy ducklings <3

house reaches for your wrist, taking you into his grasp, and pulling you flush against his body. you jolt at the sudden motion, left hand landing and pressing on his chest. sure eyes linger on your face for a fraction of a second. beauty eclipsing any and all thought working the cogs in his busy mind. all he thinks to himself is how breathtaking you are in this moment.

many a time the two of you would rather bicker, almost estranged in your sidings with cuddy. but you were legally bound by contract to side with her, serving as a board member this year.

tonight’s no different, you’re here because of house’s opposition to a hospital policy you and the board proposed. he’s been on a childish campaign to get you to concede to his wishes, after all he does whatever he wants in the hospital. but he makes a deductive confession that changes the tune of your usual argument. and tonight’s a little different, with it being the annual gala.

you wear this burgundy dress off some runway that he makes note of, and he’s in his well-pressed, well-tailored suit. you came here to declare a truce, but instead you let house press your buttons, somehow finding yourself ending the argument against his chest.

house’s hand snakes its way to the nook of your back. then, his lips were latched onto yours. he's kissing you.

gregory house is kissing you.

your tense body melts into his touch, reciprocating the kiss despite your initial surprise. you loop an arm around his neck, pushing him closer to you, causing the two of you to wobble, but he steadies your weight and deepens the kiss.

it’s sweet, passionate, and almost desparate, as if this was years of yearning. but you’re not so illusioned that you mistake this as something other than all your anger and hostility towards each other finally being squeeze out by the force of your locked lips—into this kiss.

it’s a kiss the two of you unknowingly wanted, hidden underneath the veneer of your harsh and clashing words. you’re not afraid to argue with house, equally venomous with your tongue during your time as a defence lawyer. and house is the same, sharpened tongue to prove his correctness in principle.

but you two fear that you’ve exposed yourselves to the possibility of tragedy. maybe it's because you two have been really eyeing each other all along, testing how you could handle each other. never once have you failed, nor has house. that scared you shitless, but the moment’s well worth it. house makes good work with his lips, and you float in some sort of heaven, feeling the frustration finally rupture. and he feels the same.

slowly, you both pull away from each other, breathless and flushed. you don’t pull away immediately, staying interlocked in his grasp. your eyes are both down cast, not quite refusing to look at the other, but rather frozen and unsure where to look. despite it, house’s eyes radiate blue.

it’s too intimate for you and house, and yet you keep still. he’s kept to himself all these years, only to have you cut into his bubble between the hookers he distracts himself with. he thinks that’s where his resentment of you stems from, but it’s never really been quite hatred, he realizes. you’re the same, lonelier than you would like to admit. no one, so it seemed, could tug on your heartstrings except this man you found nothing but annoyance for.

house is perplexed. his mouth is agape, nothing quite registering to allow his neurons to fire and form words. something of his old self manifests, and a warm feeling feathers his heart. a touch like this was no stranger to that ghost, but all the other flirtations he makes falls in comparison. there’s only you and him

his sense are faint yet heightened, just from his proximity to you. biologically speaking, he’s doing really well, and he can hear his pulse pounding, and feel yours mirror his. he’s forgotten what this feels like, but sure it was this, and that makes his heart race faster. it’s almost dizzying.

house continues to direct his eyes on your curled hair, unsure of how to look at you. he considers leaving without another word, but he feels stuck to you.

you mirror house, too dazed to do anything. an overwhelming euphoria shoots through you, the sort of nervous excitement that makes you feel like a teenager. you’re younger than house, and you bite your cheek like you were 17 with your crush. you’re all too aware of your inexperience now, unsure with your wild heart. nevertheless, you muster the courage to finally break your trance. so you push on his chest lightly, finally meeting his eyes.

you blink. he’s tall.

the realization makes you swallow nervously. you open your mouth, but like house, nothing quite comes out. your hand still rests on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his pulsing heart. you try again, this time with house. both of your lips fall open, tongue failing again. but his eyes are enough. all you want to do is kiss him, so you lean in and kiss him again.

luckily for you, house always wants to kiss you.

[enemiestolovershoe]

I'd like to read an enemies to lovers (or fuckers😀) story with Folio. I'd try to write one by myself but got stucked. I have no ideas and it got so boring at a certain point😕

Just Pretend

Nick Folio x enemy!ruffilo!reader

Summary: Y/N and Nick Folio, longtime enemies, share an unexpected night that blurs the lines between hatred and passion, forcing them to confront their true feelings.

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f receiving), enemies to fuckers to lovers, unprotected p in v, swearing, alcohol and weed use, let me know if i missed something

Disclaimer: While the characters in this story are inspired by real people, the events and interactions are purely fictional and not reflective of reality.

The roar of the crowd outside the venue was deafening, but inside the tour bus, it was a cozy kind of chaos. You had been tagging along on your brother Ruffilo's tours for years, but this time, things were different. This time, you weren’t just his sibling hanging out backstage—you were officially part of the crew as their photographer.

The guys in the band had welcomed you with open arms, treating you like family. Noah was a laid-back source of constant laughter; Jolly had an almost brotherly protectiveness about him, and Nicholas made sure you were always in the loop, a constant conspirator in his antics.

All except Nick Folio.

From the very first moment you were introduced, he had been… cold. Polite, sure, but with a distinct undercurrent of disdain. He didn’t even try to hide it. And so, like clockwork, every exchange with him ended in tension or a biting remark.

“Hey, Folio, hold still a second,” you said, camera poised in hand as you stood backstage before the band’s soundcheck. You were collecting candids for their social media feed, and Folio—drumming sticks in hand, absently tapping out a beat on his thigh—was an ideal subject.

He glanced at you, clearly unimpressed. “Is this absolutely necessary right now?”

You lowered the camera slightly and raised an eyebrow. “It’s kind of my job, so yeah.”

“Right. Well, maybe take pictures of someone who wants their picture taken.” He gestured toward Noah, who was sprawled on a couch nearby, unbothered.

“Maybe try being a little less—”

“Less what?” he shot back, cutting you off, his tone sharper than your camera lens.

“You know what? Never mind.” You huffed and pivoted on your heel, snapping a quick candid of Noah instead.

“Wow,” Noah said from the couch, grinning up at you. “Tension so thick I could cut it with a knife. Should I be worried about you two killing each other?”

“I wouldn’t be caught dead,” you quipped, casting a pointed glance at Folio, who muttered something under his breath and walked away.

Later that evening, after the show, the bus hummed with post-gig energy. Jolly and Nicholas were sitting at the small dining booth, sorting through setlists and chatting about tomorrow’s itinerary. You had your laptop open, editing the photos from the night, when Noah flopped down on the couch beside you.

“So,” he began, voice dripping with curiosity, “what’s the deal with you and Folio?”

“There is no deal,” you said, focusing on your screen.

“Come on,” Noah pressed. “You two are either mortal enemies or secretly in love.”

You shot him a look. “Definitely not the second one.”

Noah grinned, undeterred. “I don’t know. Enemies to lovers is, like, a classic trope. You’re already halfway there.”

“Not happening,” you replied firmly.

From across the room, Folio chimed in. “Trust me, Noah. She’s the last person I’d go for.”

You felt your face heat up but refused to look at him. “Right back at you.”

Nicholas glanced up from the table, amused. “Why do you two hate each other so much, anyway?”

“It’s not hate,” you said quickly. “It’s just… strong mutual disinterest.”

“Strong mutual annoyance,” Folio corrected.

“Strong mutual agreement that we’ll never get along,” you added.

Jolly shook his head, smiling faintly. “You two should probably figure it out. We’ve got, what, six more months on the road together?”

“Oh, joy,” Folio deadpanned, grabbing a water bottle and retreating to his bunk.

You exhaled and turned back to your screen, refusing to let him ruin your mood. But as you scrolled through the photos, you paused on one of him mid-performance. The way his focus bled into every movement, the passion in his expression—it was captivating, even if he wasn’t your favorite person.

Noah leaned over, peering at the screen. “You’re staring at Folio’s photo.”

“Shut up, Noah.”

“I’m just saying,” he teased, his grin widening.

You shoved him lightly, but your thoughts lingered on the image a little longer than you’d like to admit.

You were just settling into your bunk, sighing at the blessed comfort of your pillow, when the curtain whipped open without warning.

“Not happening,” Nicholas announced, grinning down at you like an older sibling on a mission to ruin your peace.

You groaned, rolling over to glare at him. “What now?”

Noah appeared beside him, holding up a bottle of cheap whiskey like it was a trophy. “Drinking time!”

“You’re kidding me,” you muttered. “I just finished hours of editing, and now you want me to drink… this?” You pointed accusingly at the bottle.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Nicholas said, grabbing your arm and pulling you upright. “It’s family time.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to sleep later,” Noah added with a grin. “Another Fourteen hours of driving. You’ll get your beauty rest.”

Grumbling under your breath, you slid out of the bunk and followed them to the back lounge. The door swung open, and the familiar chaos of the bus’s “living room” hit you: Jolly and Matt were already there, and of course, Folio was sprawled on the couch with his ever-present phone.

His eyes flicked up as you walked in, and his expression soured instantly. “Oh, great. Just who I was hoping to see.”

“Likewise,” you shot back, rolling your eyes as you dropped onto the couch between Noah and your brother Ruffilo.

Folio’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before he muttered, “Perfect,” and went back to scrolling on his phone.

Jolly, seated at the small counter with another whiskey bottle and a lineup of mismatched cups, started pouring. “Let’s get this going,” he said, handing the first cup to Ruffilo and then making his way around the group.

You took your cup hesitantly, eyeing the dark liquid with skepticism. “Why does it always have to be whiskey?” you asked, grimacing after your first sip. “Can’t we just smoke a joint?”

“Or,” Folio said, cutting in with a raised eyebrow, “it could be both.” He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out two pre-rolled joints, holding them up like an offering.

The room broke into laughter, except for Ruffilo, who narrowed his eyes at you. “Wait a second. Since when do you smoke sis?”

You froze for a split second before shrugging casually. “Oops, I guess?”

“Oops?” Ruffilo repeated, his tone heavy with older-brother judgment. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“It’s not a big deal,” you replied, unfazed. “You’ve done worse.”

Noah snickered from your left. “She’s got you there, Ruff.”

“She does not—” Ruffilo started, but Jolly cut him off with a raised cup.

“Let it go, man,” Jolly said. “We’re here to relax, not get into a family drama.”

Ruffilo muttered something under his breath but didn’t press the issue.

You laughed, taking another sip of whiskey. 

Matt, perched in the corner with his own drink, gestured toward Noah. “You’re awfully quiet for the guy who brought the whiskey.”

“I’m conserving my energy,” Noah replied with a smirk. “You’ll see.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. Nicholas regaled the group with a story about their worst soundcheck in recent memory, complete with dramatic impressions of the tech crew. Matt jumped in with corrections, adding just enough dry wit to keep everyone laughing.

But as much as you tried to focus on the banter, your attention kept drifting to Folio. Every sarcastic comment he made, every smug look, grated on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. At one point, he interrupted Noah mid-story, correcting him about a setlist detail, earning a round of groans.

“Folio,” you said, leaning back against the couch, “do you ever get tired of being that guy?”

“Do you ever get tired of being this annoying?” he shot back without missing a beat.

“You’re both insufferable,” Ruffilo muttered, downing the rest of his whiskey.

Nicholas chuckled, nudging you. “You sure you two don’t secretly love each other?”

“Absolutely not,” you said quickly.

“Never,” Folio added at the same time, his tone as sharp as yours.

The group burst into laughter, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You knew the teasing wouldn’t stop anytime soon—not with this crowd.

The hours flew by in a haze of laughter, music, and the warmth of shared intoxication. The six of you were a mess of empty cups, lingering smoke, and bad jokes, none of which made sense anymore but were hilarious in the moment. Matt was the first to call it a night, mumbling something about needing to be “semi-functional” in the morning. Jolly and Ruffilo followed soon after, Ruffilo slapping Noah on the back in a half-drunken show of affection before disappearing toward his bunk.

That left you, Noah, and Folio.

“Can I go to bed without worrying that you two are going to kill each other?” Noah yawned, rubbing his eyes as he stretched lazily.

You smiled at him, your earlier annoyance fading. “Yeah, go to bed, Noah. We’ll be fine.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, but decided to take your word for it. “All right… but if I wake up to a murder scene, I’m blaming both of you.”

“Goodnight, Noah,” you said with a chuckle, waving him off.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled, disappearing through the door.

And then there were two.

The air grew heavier as silence settled over the room, broken only by the faint hum of the bus engine and the occasional tap of your thumb against your phone screen. You’d pulled out a game to distract yourself, but the tension between you and Folio was almost palpable.

It didn’t help that he hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch, leaning back lazily with one arm draped over the backrest, watching you like he was waiting for something.

After a few minutes, you gave up pretending the game was holding your attention. You glanced at him, hesitating before speaking. “Do you… uh… have another joint, maybe?”

Folio raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the question. “You sure?”

“Yeah, why not?” you replied, your patience already wearing thin.

He smirked, leaning forward slightly. “Because I’ve never seen you smoke before, Y/N. And I don’t want to be the oneresponsible when you pass out or freak out.”

Your jaw tightened at his tone, his words igniting the familiar irritation that always seemed to surface when he spoke to you. “Okay, Folio, listen. It’s definitely not my first time smoking weed. There are a lot of things about me you don’t know. And I am not a lightweight.” You crossed your arms, holding his gaze with a defiant glare. “So, I’ll ask again: do you have another joint or not?”

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your response. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just studied you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher. Finally, he reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out another pre-rolled joint.

“Uh… yeah, sure,” he said, handing it to you.

You took it with a smirk, your first one of the night. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” he muttered, leaning back again. He pulled out his own joint, lighting it with practiced ease before taking a slow drag.

You lit yours as well, the familiar scent filling the air as you inhaled deeply. For a while, neither of you spoke. The smoke curled lazily around you both, creating a strange sort of intimacy in the otherwise empty lounge.

Folio broke the silence first. “You don’t seem like the type,” he said, his tone casual but curious.

You exhaled a puff of smoke, raising an eyebrow. “The type to what?”

“Smoke,” he said simply, gesturing toward the joint in your hand. “Or… I don’t know. Just let loose like this.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “See, that’s the problem with you, Folio. You think you’ve got me all figured out, but you don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, really?” he replied, his smirk returning. “Like what?”

“Like…” You paused, taking another drag as you thought. “Like the fact that I’ve been smoking since college. Or that Iused to be in a band before I got into photography.”

Folio’s eyebrows shot up at that. “You were in a band?”

“Yeah,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Guitar and vocals. We weren’t great, but it was fun.”

“Why’d you quit?” he asked, his tone a little softer now.

You shrugged, looking down at your joint. “Didn’t love it enough to make it my whole life, I guess. Photography felt… right. Like it was what I was supposed to do.”

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Makes sense.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the lack of sarcasm in his voice. For once, he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the earlier tension starting to fade. And then, emboldened by the alcohol and weed coursing through your system, you found yourself asking the question that had been nagging at you for months.

“Why do you hate me so much, Folio?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for far too long.

Folio froze, his joint halfway to his lips. For the first time that night, he looked completely caught off guard.

“I don’t—” he began, but you cut him off immediately.

“Don’t start with that bullshit,” you snapped, your voice firmer than you expected.

“Let me speak, please,” he said quickly, raising a hand as if to calm you down. There was a note of seriousness in his tone that caught you off guard. “I don’t hate you, Y/N. You have to believe me.”

You blinked, your irritation giving way to confusion. “Then why are you always so mean to me? Why do you act like you can’t stand to be in the same room as me?”

Folio sighed, dragging a hand down his face before leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. The usual smugness in his expression was completely gone, replaced by something far more vulnerable.

“Do you remember that house party seven years ago? The one where your brother introduced us?” he asked, his voice quieter now.

You nodded slowly, your mind flashing back to the memory. “Yeah… I remember.”

“Well,” he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, “Nicholas caught me staring at you.”

You raised an eyebrow, unsure where this was going. “Okay…?”

“I was mesmerized by you, Y/N,” Folio admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen. But Nicholas pulled me aside and made it very clear that you were strictly off-limits.”

Your mouth parted slightly, the pieces beginning to fall into place.

“So, what? You just decided to hate me because my brother told you to back off?” you asked, your tone more incredulous than angry.

“No,” Folio said, shaking his head. “I didn’t decide to hate you. I tried to. I thought if I could convince myself you were annoying, or difficult, or—” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “If I could convince myself you were someone I didn’t want to be around, then maybe I could get those feelings out of my head.”

He leaned back, exhaling deeply as he met your gaze. “It didn’t work. But it made things easier… or at least it felt like it did at the time.”

You stared at him, your mind reeling from his confession. “So, this whole time… all the bickering, the snarky comments… that was just you trying to push me away?”

Folio nodded, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Pretty much.” He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding your eyes. “The truth is, I’ve never hated you, Y/N. I never could.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and for a moment, you were completely speechless. You had spent so much time believing that he genuinely couldn’t stand you, and now… this.

Folio shifted nervously under your silence, his earlier confidence clearly shaken. “Look, I know I’ve been a complete asshole to you, and you probably don’t want to hear any of this, but—”

Before he could finish, you leaned forward, your heart pounding in your chest, and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was sudden, instinctive, and completely out of character for you. But as soon as it happened, it felt right—like something you’d been holding back for far too long.

For a moment, Folio didn’t move, clearly caught off guard. But then, almost hesitantly, he kissed you back.

Folio’s hands found your waist as he quickly pulled you onto his lap, not breaking the kiss. The motion made you gasp against his lips, but he didn’t let up, deepening the kiss instead. His grip was firm, almost like he was afraid you’d slip away, and the heat between your bodies was impossible to ignore.

After a few moments, Folio pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath. His eyes searched yours, dark and filled with something you couldn’t quite place, but it made your stomach twist in anticipation.

"I’m sick of pretending, Y/N," he murmured, his voice raw and quiet, as if it hurt to say it out loud.

Your chest tightened at his words, a mix of emotions flooding you. But instead of overthinking it, you let your instincts take over. "Then don’t," you whispered, your voice steady despite the butterflies wreaking havoc inside you.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Folio leaned in again, capturing your lips in another heated kiss. This one was more desperate, more certain, and you found yourself melting into him.

His hands roamed your back, sliding under your sweatshirt, and his fingers brushed your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine. Your hips moved of their own accord, rocking slightly against him. The friction was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips when you felt how hard he already was beneath you.

"Fuck, Y/N," Folio groaned against your mouth, his hands tightening on your waist as you kept moving. His lips trailed down to your jaw, then your neck, where he bit down gently, eliciting another gasp from you.

You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding against him, the heat between your legs growing unbearable. "I need you, Nicky," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper but loud enough for him to hear.

He pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours, dark and filled with desire. "Fuck," he rasped, his lips curling into a smirk. "I thought you’d never say it."

Your cheeks flushed, but you smirked right back, emboldened by his reaction. Without breaking eye contact, you grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt and pulled it over your head in one swift motion, leaving your upper body bare to him.

Folio’s eyes widened for a moment before they darkened further, his gaze drinking you in. "No bra?" he said, his tone teasing but laced with lust. "Naughty girl."

You shrugged, your smirk not faltering. "Remember, I was dragged out of bed."

His grin widened as he leaned forward, his lips brushing over your collarbone. "Lucky me," he murmured before his hands found your waist again, pulling you flush against him.

Not wanting to be the only one undressed, you tugged at the hem of his hoodie. "Your turn," you whispered, your fingers curling under the fabric.

He chuckled softly but obliged, pulling the hoodie off and tossing it aside. Your breath hitched as you took him in, his toned chest and arms on full display.

"Like what you see?" he teased, his grin cocky as he caught you staring.

"Maybe," you replied, feigning indifference, though the heat in your gaze betrayed you.

"Uh-huh, sure," he teased back, pulling you closer until your bare chest pressed against his.

Your lips met again, the kiss growing more intense, and you couldn’t stop your hands from exploring his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. His hands mirrored yours, roaming your back and hips, pulling you even closer as the tension built between you.

After a few minutes, your hands wandered lower, trailing down his sides to the waistband of his sweatpants. You hesitated for only a moment before undoing the drawstring and slipping your hand inside.

The low groan Folio let out when your hand brushed against him sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but smirk against his lips.

"Fuck, Y/N," he breathed, his head tilting back slightly as you started palming him through his sweatpants. His grip on your waist tightened, and his breathing grew heavier, matching yours.

Folio groaned, his head tilting back as your hand worked him. "Okay, okay, you need to stop," he panted, grabbing your wrist gently but firmly to still your movements. "Or else I’m gonna bust already," he added with a breathless laugh, his cheeks flushed.

You smirked, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to his jaw. "Isn’t that the point?" you quipped, your tone light but sultry.

He gave you a pointed look, his lips quirking into a crooked smile. "Yeah, well, I’d rather make you feel good first. Thatokay with you?"

The low rasp in his voice sent shivers down your spine, and you nodded quickly. "Yes, please," you whispered, your voice soft but laced with need.

"Good girl," he murmured, his smile turning into a smug smirk as he gently nudged you backward.

You found yourself lying back on the narrow couch in the tour bus, the cool leather a sharp contrast to the heat building between your bodies. Folio knelt between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your sweatpants and panties. With one smooth motion, he tugged them down and discarded them somewhere on the floor.

Everything about his movements was quick and deliberate, leaving you a little breathless. He placed his hands on your thighs, parting your legs with a firm yet gentle motion. The hunger in his gaze made you swallow hard, heat flooding your cheeks.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice softening. The concern in his tone was genuine, cutting through the tension just enough to make your chest tighten in a different way.

"Yeah," you said, nodding.

He raised an eyebrow, his hands giving your thighs a reassuring squeeze. "I need to hear you say it, baby," he urged gently.

Your lips parted as you took a steadying breath. "Yes, Nicky. I’m sure," you replied, your voice steady this time.

His lips quirked into a soft smile at your words. "That’s my girl," he murmured, and before you could respond, he dipped his head, his lips brushing your inner thigh before moving to exactly where you needed him most.

The first touch of his tongue drew a sharp gasp from you, your hips jerking slightly in surprise. "Fuck," you breathed, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair.

Folio chuckled against you, the vibrations making you whimper. "God, you’re so wet for me," he groaned, his voice muffled but filled with awe.

"Mhm," you managed, your fingers tightening in his hair. "Just for you."

"Good," he murmured before diving back in, his mouth working against you with a fervor that left you dizzy.

Every flick of his tongue and every graze of his lips had you unraveling faster than you thought possible. Your moans filled the small space, mingling with his groans as he seemed entirely consumed by the task of driving you wild.

Your legs trembled as the pressure built to an almost unbearable peak, and with one final flick of his tongue, you came undone with a cry, your back arching off the couch.

Folio didn’t stop right away, easing you through your high until you were a quivering, breathless mess beneath him. He pulled back, his lips glistening, and gave you a cocky grin.

"That was fast," he teased, leaning back on his heels and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You let out a breathless laugh, covering your face with one hand as you tried to catch your breath. "I know. I surprised myself," you admitted, still trembling slightly.

His grin widened, and he reached out to tug your hand away from your face, pinning it gently against the couch. "Don’t hide from me," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You smiled up at him, your chest still heaving. "Come here, drummer boy," you said, your tone teasing but full of want. "And fuck me already."

His cheeks flushed, the pink spreading across his nose, but he smirked anyway. "You don’t have to tell me twice," he said, his voice dropping an octave.

He stood up, his movements fluid as he quickly discarded his pants and boxers, letting them fall to the floor. You couldn’t help but stare, your lips parting slightly at the sight of him.

"Like what you see?" he teased, catching your expression as he climbed back onto the couch, hovering over you.

"Maybe," you replied, your voice soft but teasing.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you deeply. His lips moved against yours with a mix of urgency and tenderness, and you melted into him, your hands roaming the expanse of his bare back.

Folio hovered over you, his body pressing against yours as he lined himself up at your entrance. His eyes searched yours one last time, his voice low and rough. "You ready, baby?"

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I’ve never been more ready," you whispered.

With a slow, steady motion, he pushed himself into you, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. Your nails dug into his shoulders as the stretch took you by surprise, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped.

"God, Folio," you breathed, your voice trembling. "You’re so big."

He froze for a moment, his forehead pressing against yours. "You need a minute, baby?" he asked, his voice soft and full of concern.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. "No, keep going," you murmured, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. "I need you."

His gaze darkened at your words, and he leaned down to kiss you deeply as he began to move, starting with slow, deliberate thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, every inch of him filling you in a way that left you breathless.

"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice strained. "So tight, baby. Fuck."

You whimpered in response, your legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even closer. "Don’t stop," you gasped, your voice breaking. "Right there, Nicky. Yes, yes, right there."

His pace began to pick up, his movements growing more confident as your moans spurred him on. "Good girl," he murmured against your ear, his voice dripping with praise. "Taking me so well. So wet for me."

Your body responded to every word, every thrust, and soon you were clawing at his back, your moans growing louder with each passing second. "Faster," you begged, your voice high and desperate. "Please, Nicky, faster."

"Anything for you," he groaned, gripping your hips as he began to move with an almost punishing pace. The sound of skin against skin filled the small space, mingling with the symphony of your moans and his deep, guttural groans.

"Fuck, baby," he rasped, his lips brushing against your neck as he buried himself deeper. "You feel so fucking good."

"Harder," you moaned, your head tilting back as your body arched into his. "Please, Nicky, fuck me harder."

He didn’t hesitate, his hips snapping against yours with a force that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. "God, you’re perfect," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. "So fucking perfect."

You felt the tension building again, your body teetering on the edge. "I’m close," you gasped, your nails raking down his back. "Don’t stop, don’t stop."

"I’ve got you, baby," he groaned, his voice rough as he kept his relentless pace.

With one final thrust, the coil inside you snapped, and you cried out, your body shaking as your orgasm washed over you. Folio groaned loudly, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

"Fuck," he rasped, his voice thick with pleasure. With a few more thrusts, he pulled out, spilling himself onto your belly. His head fell to your shoulder as he caught his breath, his body trembling slightly against yours.

You both lay there for a moment, panting and trying to come down from the high. Finally, Folio pushed himself up, his eyes meeting yours with a soft, almost shy smile. "You okay?" he asked, his voice still a little breathless.

"Yeah," you replied, your own smile tugging at your lips. "That was…"

"Incredible?" he finished for you, his grin turning playful as he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

"Exactly," you agreed, laughing softly as he stood up.

He grabbed a box of tissues from the corner of the bus’s living room and cleaned you up with gentle care, his fingers brushing against your skin.

As he tossed the tissues into a nearby trash can, you smirked up at him. "If you hadn’t pretended to hate me all these years, we could’ve done that seven years ago," you teased, your tone light but tinged with a hint of seriousness.

Folio’s expression softened, and he climbed back onto the couch, pulling you into his arms. "I know," he murmured, his voice quiet. "I’m sorry, baby."

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment as if trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.

After a moment of catching your breath, you and Folio slowly began to gather yourselves. He handed you your underwear with a small, sheepish grin, and you both slid them back on in a comfortable silence. The air between you had shifted—it was no longer filled with tension, but something warmer, more intimate.

You laid back down on the couch, and Folio immediately joined you, pulling you into his arms. His hand rested on your hip as he held you close, the rise and fall of his chest soothing as you nestled against him.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The quiet hum of the tour bus and the faint sounds from outside filled the space. It wasn’t awkward, though—it was comfortable, peaceful even.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice soft and a little uncertain. "What does this make us, Nick?"

He stilled for a moment, and you could feel the way his chest rose and fell under your cheek as he took a deep breath. "I don’t know," he admitted, his voice gentle but firm. "But I do know one thing—I’m done pretending, baby. I’m done acting like I don’t want this. Like I don’t want you."

Your heart fluttered at his words, but there was still a sliver of hesitation in your chest. You tilted your head to look up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. "How does boyfriend and girlfriend sound?" you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a split second, your heart raced, fear creeping in as you braced yourself for his answer. But then, Folio’s lips curled into that signature smirk of his, and the look in his eyes softened in a way that made your chest ache.

"I’d love that, baby," he said simply, his voice steady and sincere.

A wave of relief washed over you, and a smile spread across your lips as your fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt. "Good," you murmured, your voice lighter now, playful even.

Folio leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips—gentle and unhurried, like he was savoring the moment. When he pulled back, his hand reached for a nearby blanket draped over the back of the couch. He tugged it over both of you, tucking it around your shoulders before pulling you even closer.

"Let’s cuddle a bit before we have to get back to our bunks," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. "The guys don’t need to find out about this just yet. And your brother…" He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Your brother would kill us both."

You laughed quietly, nuzzling closer to him. "Agreed," you said, your voice warm with amusement.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence again, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your back as you basked in the warmth of each other’s presence.

But what neither of you considered was how the haze of the moment—combined with the earlier hit of weed and the lingering exhaustion—would catch up to you. Slowly but surely, your eyelids grew heavy, and you felt yourself slipping into the pull of sleep.

Folio’s breathing evened out beside you, his arms still securely wrapped around your frame as he dozed off. Neither of you noticed the scattered clothes on the floor or the fact that the blanket barely covered your entwined bodies.

And as the tour bus rumbled quietly down the road, you both drifted off, blissfully unaware of the consequences waiting for you when the boys inevitably discovered the aftermath of your night together.

The next morning, you were startled awake by a loud, familiar voice cutting through the quiet hum of the bus. Still tangled in Folio’s arms, you blinked groggily, your brain struggling to catch up as the realization hit—you’d fallen asleep in the lounge area.

Noah’s voice, brimming with disbelief and amusement, echoed through the small space. "I fucking told you!" he practically shouted, the smirk on his face audible in his tone.

You and Folio both jolted upright, your hearts racing. Folio instinctively pulled the blanket tighter around you as you both turned to see Noah standing a few feet away, his grin widening as he took in the scene before him.

Before either of you could say a word, Noah’s commotion woke another person—the one person you’d hoped wouldn’t notice.

Your brother, Ruffilo, groaned loudly as he climbed out of his bunk, rubbing his eyes and looking thoroughlyunimpressed. "What the hell are you yelling about this early, Noah?" he grumbled, his voice heavy with sleep.

Time seemed to slow as Ruffilo’s footsteps grew louder, each one bringing him closer to the back lounge. Your breath caught in your throat, and you glanced at Folio, whose wide eyes mirrored your own. Even Noah looked momentarily alarmed, his grin faltering as the gravity of the situation hit him.

When Ruffilo finally stepped into the lounge, his gaze landed on you and Folio still tangled together on the couch, the blanket doing little to hide the obvious intimacy of your positioning. His eyes narrowed dangerously, and his jaw clenched as realization dawned.

"Folio," Ruffilo said slowly, his voice low and simmering with anger. "Don’t tell me you fucked my sister last night."

Folio froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he managed a weak, "Uh… I didn’t fuck your sister last night?" His voice wavered with uncertainty, and you resisted the urge to groan at his terrible attempt at lying.

Ruffilo’s gaze snapped to you, and then back to Folio, his face reddening with fury. "I’m going to fucking kill you," he growled, his voice rising with each word. "Both of you!"

Taglist: @courta13

[whydoyoucare866]

hai :3 can i request an enemies to lover miguel o hara fic where they get stuck in a closet together and reader kinda has to sit on his lap because there isnt any space and so after a few minutes of being in there, reader pisses off miguel and miguel kisses them to shut them up and then the rest is history ig 🙇‍♀️

PLS AND THANK YOU! 🙇‍♀️

also pls make the reader speak spanish im BEGGINGGG.

CLOSET

hi! ofc you can! I did my best! I’m sorry that it sucks and is cringy😀😭

Miguel O’ Hara x Hispanic Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Suggestive Language, Maybe a glimpse of smut, and Miguel being an asshole

You were one of Miguel’s first recruits, you had been working in the spider society for as long as it had existed, you and Miguel were close (or you would like to consider that) since you both shared the same culture and language and it was easier for you to communicate with him when your English wasn’t as good as it is (since in your universe Spanish was the predominant language) and he would be one of the few people who could understand your accent or you speaking Spanish when you forgot a word.

He took it as his personal job to teach you English until you perfected it and people who didn’t know you wouldn’t be able to guess that it wasn’t your first language( though sometimes you still would forget words in English or express yourself better in Spanish) you would both mutually bring food for each other or bond over music, so yeah you considered yourself close to him.

That was until he started becoming way more stressed about everything, yeah he has been a sour asshole ever since his canon event, but people were at least able to get small responses and have conversations that weren’t all about work with him, but as the spider society grew, he felt a lot of pressure on him and started drowning himself in work to the point that he would isolate himself for days until he got everything he needed done, he could spend weeks without sleeping and eating, and obviously as he became more stressed his memories started to impulse even worse emotions on him than they did before.

Of course this made you and your other teammates worried about him, so you started to bring him lunch, make sure he slept, and just went to see if he was okay, but you checking up on him started to annoy him as he got more irritating because of the lack of sleep and the accumulation of stress, so one day he just decided you annoyed him and soon that annoyance turned into hatred, or that’s what he thought it was.

This made him become snappy at you and we all know he can be the greatest asshole, at first you’re patient with him, thinking it will pass, but as it gets worse you reach your ending point and lose all patience starting to respond to him the same way he talked to you.

The sudden change weirded everyone out, but they also noticed that ever since you started hating Miguel back, his mood became even worse, well everyone noticed except for you, which surprised everyone since you were one of the smartest people in the spider society.

So thats why everyone refused to go to a mission with Miguel when he asked them to, arguing that they already had a mission, or that they had something really important to do, until Miguel had no other option but to take you and you had no other option but to go with him.

“Do i reaally have to go with him? I mean can’t he just ask Ben instead?” You said to Jess

“Nope honey, Ben has a really important therapy session”

“Okay? so then ask Gwen? Pavitr? Hobie? anyone else?”

“He already did, they’re all busy”

“Then why can’t you go”

“As important as the spider society is, I have an ultrasound appointment today, so I can’t go even if I wanted to”

“Well the world just hates me then doesn’t it”

“Maybe it does, or maybe it’s doing you a favor”

“Trust me, being alone with him is not a favor, i don’t want to be screamed at about how i’m annoying and a fucking- what was the word? uhm una carga? how did you say that?”

“A burden?”

“Yeah that! I don’t want to be called a burden and shit like that”

“You’re no burden, but I’ll tell you what you sound like, a teenage girl, come on, you’re an adult, you can take things in a professional way”

“Well the one that’s childish is him not me”

“Uh huh, well i’ve gotta go, good luck!”

“Yeah whatever”

You were now approaching Miguel’s office while wishing you were dead ‘Puta madre neta me lleva la verga, ahora si ya no tengo de otra más que ir’ (Fuck this shit, now I really don’t have any option but to go), you were starting to grow nervous as you approached his door, you hadn’t been alone with him since your last fight where he directly called you annoying and a burden, but now you had no other option.

After finishing the mission without actually talking to each other unless necessary, you both came back to the HQ, when you arrived it was weirdly quiet and no one seemed to be there doing their duties even if it was not that late, which was really weird, that was until you saw Peter B. approaching you with a worried look

“Hey y/n, have you seen MayDay? I can’t find her, usually it takes me an hour, but it’s been four hours and I haven’t been able to find her and I’m starting to get worried” Peter said to you while still running up to you and then catching his breath

“Oh, um I’m sorry but we just got back from a mission so we haven’t seen anything, but we can help you look!”

“No we can’t” Miguel said

“Yes we can, anyways where was the last place that you saw her Peter?” You said after glaring at Miguel as if looks could kill

“Well, I think it was in that one room that has a closet.. I always forget what it’s called”

“Okay yeah, I know which one you’re talking about, let’s go take a look”

Miguel followed them even if he said he wouldn’t be helping, Mayday being on the loose could press a lot of buttons and break a lot of things and cause a lot of problems, so there he was, inside of the closet with you, while Peter “looked” around the room, until they heard a loud noise of the door closing and now he was trapped inside with you, the worst thing is that because of the lack of space you ended up in his lap.

“Great, just what I needed”

“You know I’m not happy about being here with you either okay?”

“Oh is that so? or was this your little plan to get me trapped with you and to get all up on my personal space”

“WHAT? I would NOT do that, and I do NOT want to be in the same room as you you fucking asshole!”

“Oh yeah am I an asshole? sorry I couldn’t understand you with that accent”

“WHAT? okay now you’re being unreasonable, you want me to say it in Spanish? I will, Yo no planee esto wey, yo no quiero estar en el mismo lugar que tu, yo no quiero que me hables, yo no te quiero hablar y mucho menos molestar tu pinche espacio personal, así que neta hazme un favor y cállate un rato que ya no te aguanto cabrón, neta deja de cagar el palo y de ser un pendejo de la nada y ni me trates de culpar porque yo ni se que chingados te hice para que me odies tanto-“. (I didn’t plan this, I don’t want to be in the same place as you, I don’t want you to talk to me or to talk to you or even less to be all on your fucking personal space, so please do me a favor and shut up a little because I can’t deal with you anymore, please stop being such an asshole out of nowhere and don’t blame me because i don’t even know what the fuck I did for you to hate me so much-) That’s when you felt something on your lips, and it took you some time to realize he was kissing you, Miguel O’Hara was kissing you, you sure as hell felt as a teenage girl, butterflies in your stomach and everything.

On the other side Miguel was starting to get nervous as you didn’t return the kiss, he was starting to pull away and about to say he was sorry and he didn’t mean it when he felt you pulling him close and kissing him again, at first it was just a sweet kiss, but then it started to get heated, he couldn’t help but moan when he started feeling you grinding against him, with each second passing making him harder, he started kissing your neck and sucking “Fuck Miguel- you’re gonna leave marks” but he didn’t care, he continued, hearing your moans was paradise to him, he wanted to take you there so bad, until, they heard a knock “Um guys? are you okay?” Peter B said as he unlocked the door and opened it making Miguel groan in annoyance “This isn’t over.” he said before the door completely opened and revealed a Peter with a smiling Mayday in his arms.

[enchantedlov3r]

~Wild enemies turned lovers~ A Jacaerys Velaryon love story Cowboy AU

Chapter 1

Summary: you and Jace were enemies, no one could get you guys to get along. so when you guys are forced to work together on your mother's farm for a summer, burning hatred turns into passionate love...

Pairing: cowboy!Jacaerys x cowgirl!reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: lots of sadness and angst, Jace being a tiny asshole, aemond being a good friend, daemon being the reader's fav as he should, and lots of cussing yayy! smut in future chapters, fluff at the end kind of, mentions of death, arguing, let me know if I missed anything! enjoyyyy!

A/N: heyyyy... how y'all doin'.... so look I know I have other stuff to work on but I just couldn't resist y'all know me! so this is dedicated to a lovely girl @coral021 so I hope you like it and it suits your liking, this will be a series btw!

You felt as though you and Jace were supposed to be enemies since the womb.

Jace was always so stuck up and such a know it all while you were more reserved and chose to hide in the shadows.

yes you were outgoing and loved riding your horse around the farm, but you also didn't like a lot of human interaction with others you didn't know.

you were reserved and introverted that way. you liked to tend to the farm animals and do chores, stuff normal people wouldn't exactly enjoy doing.

but when you put those headphones on, you were in a whole other world. a world that Jace always loved to mess up when he and his family came to visit.

It was currently 2:55pm when Jace and his family arrived. It was Daemon, your favorite. Aemond and Aegon, Lucerys, Joffery, and Rhaenyra.

you spotted them from the barn as you were feeding the pigs. you finished tidying up in the barn when your twin sister comes running towards you.

your sister was your best friend, she was the only one who you felt actually understood you.

"There here!" she says with a giddy smile. "yea I caught that, you seem a wee bit too excited, I wonder why." you say your southern drawl coming in strong.

"oh stop it! you know he doesn't like me back, it's just a tiny crush anyway. to be honest I think he takes a liking to you." she says as you both walk hand in hand.

she had the biggest crush on aemond. he showed signs that he didn't like her back but to be honest your sister could never truly stay hooked on one man.

when you guys were 12 she had a crush on jace but when you guys were 15 she obtained a crush on aegon.

"you know how you get around him, I just don't want him hurting your feelings, you know how mean they are, and besides your too sweet for him anyway. and I highly doubt he wants me," you say smiling at her as you rub your nose with hers.

she was the joy and happiness that you don't have. you weren't exactly depressed but you weren't exactly happy either, being the oldest by 5 minutes meant more pressure on you then her.

but she was still able to put a smile on your face as always. you havent been the best, especially since dad died. it's been rough on everyone but daisy doesn't show it as much. tyring to stay happy for everyone.

(gonna name her daisy btw you can use it if not thats ok too)

you eventually just shut everyone out except her. your older brother, your mom, your friends, even other family members.

"you think mom's gonna tell em? that dad's dead?" daisy asks you. you sigh and look at your house up ahead.

"maybe, they are like family and daemon really did like our dad so maybe?" you say honestly. you weren't sure.

your mom hasn't left the house in months. he recently died and you guys had the funeral a few months ago.

she hasn't moved from the house and you and daisy were constantly trying to coax her to help out.

so instead of getting up to help she calls the Targaryen family over to help for the entire summer.

now to anyone that sounds amazing. to you, it was a nightmare because of the sleep schedule, the trouble you'd have to endure, and the endless amounts of teasing and annoyance from Jace.

"I like your outfit btw but you might wanna change, and shower. you smell like mud and pigs." she says snickering.

you had on a white t-shirt with blue overalls and a cowgirl hat on to keep the heat from out of your eyes along with your handy dandy cowgirl boots.

"yea yea, I know. but not before i do this!" you exclaim before rubbing your hands all on her arms and rubbing your cheek on her cheek.

"ewwwwwww! gross! whyyyy mee!" Daisy yells out as she runs away from you. you quickly follow after her you catch a glimpse of the four boys staring at you guys. your older brother, aemond, aegon, and jace.

"ok ok! I surrender. I give up, come on daisy I won't do anything, promise!" you yell out at her.

she laughs and puts both her thumbs up before making her way back to you.

you both walk up the porch steps towards the front door when your met with your older brothers gaze.

"Where have you two been? Mom was looking for you both to greet the Targaryens." he says with a stern gaze.

"doing the work you should have been doing. that's where I was." you say with a bit of venom behind it.

"well I was busy. you know taking care of mom." he says. you roll your eyes and so does daisy.

"bullshit Tyler, I was taking care of mom while you were out fucking some girl." daisy announces.

"oh wow, but what the hell was all that talk about how you care for mom's mental health and how you needed to now step up and be the "man" of the house and take care of mom?" you question, restating what he said the day after the funeral.

"I meant that. I'm doing that, I'm putting in more work than you." he says with his chest puffed out.

"Yea tell her." Jace whispers.

'Oh.' you saw what was going on here, Tyler wanted to act all tough and big and bad because they were here. well, you were gonna show your brother just how pathetic he is.

you glare at the boys behind him and then look at your brother again.

"hey by the way, tell that girl, what was her name again, cat? yea did you ever tell her that you had chlamydia and might have given it to her? yea did you tell her that you got it from her sister? well, that's too bad cause I uhm already told her. she's on her way here shortly so that'll be a fun conversation." you say with a smile.

"let's go daisy," you say before walking towards the door. "Oh by the way welcome back boys," you say with an insincere smile on your face before pushing the door to your household open and walking in.

you hear the muffled conversation and you smile knowing that there questioning your brother and his sexual acts and the fact that he just let me punk him.

"that was just cruel but well deserved." daisy says with a giggle. you smile at her and laugh too.

"Hi, Rhaenyra." you greet as you see her and your mom talking at the dining table.

"Hello girls, always a pleasure to see you guys." she says with that warm smile on her face.

sometimes you wished she was your mom instead of your actual mom because Rhaenyra actually understood you, unlike your mom.

"I would hug you but i'm covered in mud and hay, lemme go clean up yea?" you say to her with a smile.

she smiles and nods with understanding and you walk up the stairs towards your room.

you grab a little white sundress with yellow flowers on it. you grab some panties and a bra as well and walk towards your bathroom for a well-deserved shower.

It was currently 7:45 when you finally left your room after your daily reading routine, you got out of the shower a while ago and your ready for dinner.

"Hey! Come downstairs loser, dinner is ready, and Daemons asking for you." daisy says bursting into your room.

"hey, one I'm not a loser and two you had me at Daemon's name," you say excitingly as you rush downstairs with her.

you see Daemon's white hair and his black cowboy hat and sneak up behind him and jump on his back.

"RAHHHH!" You yell out as he twirls you around with his hands on your legs holding you there.

"There she is! How's my special girl." he says with a smile on his face. you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I'm doing pretty good old man, how are you?" you say laughing when he drops you off him at calling him an old man.

"well I was doing good until that statement child." he says rolling his eyes playfully.

you laugh at him and shove him with your shoulder snatching his hat off his head and putting it on yours. You stand next to him listening to him talk about his time here in the last hour or so and you smile.

your deep in his conversation when Lucerys runs to you with Joffery.

"Hey guys! Omg! Luke you're getting taller dude and Joffery last time I saw you, you were like this short." you say shrinking your hand a bit.

"Hey guess what i'm 7 now! and Luke is 13!" he says proudly. you smile at them and high five the both of them.

"well ain't that something nice," you say roughing up Luke's hair. "Alright, boys why don't you go and find some seats, dinners ready."

they both nod and go find a seat. you smile and bid him a farewell while you go and find a seat next to your sister.

"Hey sissy." you say with a smile. "hey loser." she says with a smirk. you kick her foot and she laughs.

"girls. no playing at the table you know that." your mom says for the first time today.

"but dad never had a problem with it." daisy says in protest. you roll your eyes not even bothering to put up a fight with her.

"Yeah well he's dead isn't he, so whatever I say goes," she says sternly making everyone at the table go silent.

"yea well you haven't done anything around here anyway so what's the point." you whisper under your breath.

"I'm sorry, did you have something you wanted to share with the family?" she says with that aggression and attitude in her tone.

"Miranda don't," Rhaenyra warns.

"No its fine. Yea I do have something to share." you say putting your fork down losing your appetite.

"Here we go again." Tyler says rolling his eyes.

"You have not moved from your room in months. you have done nothing to help with the farm, you just sit around and sulk in the coldness of your room. Daisy has coaxed you to start eating properly, I have stepped up and cooked and helped take care of the fucking animals you and Dad raised when we were babies. and yet, whatever you say is supposed to go? yea, mom that makes total sense coming from a woman who couldn't even go buy fucking groceries for the goddamn house." you say out of anger.

"please don't do this, not again bro," Tyler says.

"No.. no Tyler you have no right to talk. your last words to dad were that you fucking hated him and wished he wasn't alive anymore. and for what? all because he wouldn't let you sneak some fucking whore in the house?" you say angrily with tears streaming down your face.

"You wanna act like the man of the house so bad but you couldn't even make the real man in the house proud. I blame you for his death, every single fucking day. I hate you Tyler, and I hate you Mom because you act like it's nothing. You don't check on your kids, you don't comfort Daisy at night when she wakes up crying and calling out for Dad. you do nothing. and whatever you say goes right?" you yell at Tyler and your mom.

your full-on crying now.

"I can't even look at you anymore," you say finally before looking away from them both and silently crying.

"sorry to ruin this wonderful dinner that Daisy cooked. and I'm sorry Rhaenyra and Daemon and everyone else for making you uncomfortable. I'm fine now." you say calmly.

"darling, it's totally fine. I can tell you needed to let that out." Rhaenyra says with a smile on her face.

"You just ruin everything don't you, no wonder Tyler never wants you around either," Jace says under his breath.

"what the fuck did you just say?!" you yell at jace.

"Man come on don't make her angry," Tyler says.

"JACAERYS VELARYON!" Rhaenyra yells making everyone silent at the table.

"you have no right... no right to say that. out of all people you should understand as you lost your father, don't you start with this family, and put them through more hell." she exclaims.

"I've lost my appetite, i'll eat it later daisy. I'm sorry." you say before running out of the house and running towards the barn.

"why couldn't you just stay quiet like you always are Mom? I made a n-nice dinner and you ruined it. You too Tyler and you Jace. you guys know better but you act fucking childish anyway!" Daisy says with tears in her eyes as she runs to her room.

"I'll go find her, Aegon you go after Daisy. don't worry, we'll fix this." Aemond says.

you're sitting on the bench by the coupe of chickens when you hear rustling behind you.

"go away Tyler! I don't want you here right no-"

"Not Tyler," Aemond announces interrupting your sentence.

you turn around and see aemond standing there with his hands in his pocket.

"come to tease me like Jace does? if so I'm not in the mood," you say sitting back down to feed the chickens.

"actually i'm here to comfort you. see I lost my dad too so I know how you feel. My dad may not have died like yours did but I lost mine and I'm at least civil enough to know that, that shit isn't something to make fun of." aemond says as he sits next to you.

"Yea, it's not," you say throwing more food for the chickens. you glance at him and he's staring right back at you.

"you know I don't hate him, not really." you say with a slight smile on your face.

"who Tyler?" he asks.

"nope, not him no I hate him with my life. I mean Jace. I never hated him. He just started hating on me from the jump so I just went along with it. But it's getting exhausting. were both adults now, were 18, why can't he just act more mature." you say looking at the stars in the sky.

"I don't know, I'm never really around my niece all that well but maybe he likes you. You know, arguing and pretending to hate someone for no reason at all is a sign that they like you but are trying to hide their feelings deep down."

"Oh shut up!" you say shoving him and laughing.

"Just saying," he says with a smile. you smile back at him remembering how fun and nice Aemond really was. when you guys were alone at least.

"by the way you gotta stop bullying Luke, he's 13, and you're 19. get it together bro," you say sternly locking eyes with him.

"yea yea I will." he says smiling at you. you smile back and stare at him.

for a moment it felt as though time had stopped. you both stare at each other before Aemond's smile fades and he leans a little closer to you.

he leans closer and closer until he's near your ear. "we should probably get back, daemons calling." he whispers.

"oh uhm-" you clear your throat. "yeah w-we should. thanks aemond, I really needed this talk." you say with a smile before hugging him.

"no problem." he says hugging you back as he rests his head on yours.

you both walk back engaged in conversation again about his love life. of course, he didn't have a girlfriend. you're gonna have to tell that to Daisy, maybe another night...not tonight.

then out of the blue, Jace pops up in your mind and you speak before your mind can tell you to shut up.

"D-does Jace have a girlfriend by any chance?" you ask keeping your head straight, not daring to look at Aemond's amused face and teasing smirk.

"no...he doesn't. why, are you interested?" he asks nudging you a bit as he chuckles with amusement.

,"No, not at all. Just curious is all." you say with a little giggle. you both make it back to the house and are greeted with Rhaenyra and Daemon's lovely faces.

they thank you that you came back and thank Aemond for bringing you back.

you smile at them and bid the three a goodbye. you try to make your way up the stairs but the sound of Jace's voice stops you.

"Hey, wait," he says walking to catch you quick enough. you turn around with an emotionless expression as you really don't want to speak to him.

"look I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that when I know your clearly hurting. I know what it's like to lose your father or someone close to you. I shouldn't have been such an asshole and I'm really sorry. If you could ever find it in your heart to forgive me, I would really appreciate it." he says with a serious face.

you saw past the serious facade though. there was something in his eyes, a look of not only a feeling of apologetics but of sincerity too, and passion and remorse.

a look that you can forgive.

"I forgive you Jace. I am really tired now so, goodnight." you smile at him and give him a light hug.

he hugs you back as his eyes widen. you've never shown him affection like this and neither has he so this... this was new.

"goodnight, i'll see you tomorrow then. my mom told me to help you with whatever chores you need help with," he says.

"oh ok, well then see ya tomorrow Jace." you say as you turn on your heel to make your way towards the stairs and go to your room.

you didn't quite know what tomorrow would hold for you but you prayed it wasn't Jace being an asshole.

if only you knew how much tomorrow was going to be hell for you...

Taglist: @raynesbandaids @liliesdiary @ribbonprincess and anyone else who wants to join.

COMMENTS, REBLOGS, AND LIKES ARE MUCH APPRECIATED!

©enchantedlov3r| All rights reserved. Do not repost, reupload, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[milandsk]

i count your heartbeats before you sleep

Pete Wentz x Reader

angst or fluff, enemies to lovers, reader has a nightmare, hurt/comfort, one bed trope

⭑˚₊ ‧° 𓆩♡𓆪 °‧ ₊˚⭑

Working with Fall Out Boy was supposed to be nothing but easy. Your best friend Patrick knew that that you were, a skilled guitarist so when they needed one - you were the first one to be be called. It you was (supposed) to be great, you knew the guys, you liked them - they liked you. Except for Pete. Pete Wentz. You never liked him but the hatred became a spiral when you had to work together. At first you thought it was jealousy of your skills or your relationship with Patrick, but honestly? With time the reasons were long gone. It was everything.

“You’re rushing.” he muttered loud enough for everyone to hear during one of the practices.

Your fingers stilled at the fretboard. Patrick shot you a warning look but you didn't care.

“I think you're the one who is too slow.” you shot him a tight smile that didn't reach your eyes.

“Oh, really?” Pete narrowed his eyes. “Because from what I remember I'm the one that wrote this song.”

Before he could say more Patrick stepped between you two.

“How about we start from the beginning?” he said more than asked.

You scoffed and Pete rolled his eyes but none of you disagreed.

That was what every practice was like. The only reason you weren't fired was because you were good at playing and Patrick liked you too much. Also Pete was suddenly interested in actually attending rehearsals instead of giving lame excuses. That was supposed to be a good thing if he didn't argue with you all the time instead of playing.

But nothing was as bad as travelling. You weren't spending much time in hotel rooms so you were booked in twos. Thankfully you were always paired with Patrick. But Pete always made it his personal mission to intrude your space.

You were half-laying on a bed, your back against the cushions. Pete was hovering over Patrick who was sitting at the table going over the setlist.

You let out a frustrated sight.

“Can you leave Wentz? I want to take a shower.”

Pete barely turned to look at you.

“And how am I the problem?” he sounded bored. You rolled your eyes finally getting up.

“I don't feel comfortable changing with you in a room.” it was a lie. You just wanted him to leave.

He finally turned around to shoot you a look with raised eyebrows that said “Really?”.

“Not everyone is a whore like you, Wentz.” you went to your suitcase.

Patrick stopped what he was doing and turned around.

“Can you two not?” he asked but Pete just laughed.

“Don’t worry, Trick. I'm taking it as a compliment.” he grinned at you to which you just rolled your eyes.

You took some clothes from your bag before walking past him to the bathroom.

“Aw, without me?” he asked with mock hurt before you slammed the door with too much force.

You heard his muffled laugh from the other room as you undressed and cold water hit your skin. The shower did not relax you completely but it calmed down the thoughts running inside your head. Afterwards you put on your shorts and tight tank top that was way too thin but you didn't care.

You took one last deep breath before opening the door. Patrick just glanced at you before turning back to the papers in front of him.

Pete was staring at you.

Well, not exactly at you but at your tank top. He opened his mouth to say something but he immediately closed it, his mind going blank for a moment. You brushed past him, trying to ignore the heat that suddenly went through your body.

“Fuck.” Patrick said suddenly, earning a questioning glance from you.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

Pete finally stopped eyeing you to also look at him. Patrick just sighed throwing on a jacket.

“I have to pick up something from a studio, I'll be back in an hour.” and with that he was gone before either of you could say more.

“Huh.” Pete said with an amused smirk.

“What ‘huh’?” you asked not hiding annoyance in your voice as you sat on the bed.

He just shrugged, getting closer.

“He should know better than to leave me alone with you.” his voice dropping an octave.

You felt your stomach twist but you tried to keep your voice steady. Instead of answering you asked.

“What's going on with you today?” you tilted your head. “Normally you would argue with me but now you're doing this… whatever it is.”

He stopped only when he was standing in front of the edge of the bed.

“There’’s a lot of ways to piss you off.” he was looking down at you. “And can't a guy have fun?”

“You can't” a grimace went through your face. “and not with me.”

He let out a menacing chuckle before stepping back.

“Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. You couldn't pay me to fuck you.” his back was turned to you as he walked towards the door.

"Thank God." you muttered right before the door closed behind him with a loud thud.

If any of you were ever thankful that you didn't have to share a room - you spoke too soon.

Patrick was tired when he gave you the keys and rubbing his forehead mumbled that if any of you don't like it - they can sleep in the hallway.

So now you were in the room with your bag thrown on the floor, staring at one bed in front of you.

“You sleep on the floor.” you announced grabbing a towel and heading to the bathroom.

“Dream on.” the last thing you saw before closing the door was Pete taking off his shirt and laying on the bed.

The warm water did nothing to melt away your annoyance. When you came out you saw him sprawled on your side. He didn't seem bothered by the fact that he was shirtless. You chose to ignore it against your better judgement.

“You’re seriously sleeping in jeans?” you got closer to the bed, throwing your used towel on the floor.

"No 'hi’, 'how are you?'" he mocked. "You're quick to get in my pants."

You twisted your face in disgust and pushed him with your knee. He let out a scoff but shifted to his side.

“Don't get on my side.” you muttered as you got under the covers.

“Wouldn’t dream about it.”

The silence settled over the room for what felt like an eternity, with only the soft hum of the air conditioning and distant traffic breaking through the heavy stillness. Minutes ticked by slowly, and after shifting around in bed for a long moment you still couldn't find a good position. But the heat of his body was the only thing you could focus on and he wasn't even touching you.

“Stop moving.” he muttered annoyed.

“I can't sleep.”

“Not my problem.” Pete turned his back to you.

You stared at the dark ceiling but eventually closed your eyes, falling into a peaceful dream that didn't last long.

The darkness and shadows seemed too real, too close. When you tried to scream no sound came out. You felt panic rush through you like you were drowning.

“-Wake up.” someone's voice jolted you awake as you practically jumped.

Your eyes flickered over the room. It was still the night. You could see Pete's worried face through the darkness. You barely registered as he helped you sit up. The breaths you tried to take felt shallow like you couldn't get oxygen into your body. You trembled with every breath you tried to take. His warm hand went to steady you on your back.

“It’s okay, it's just a bad dream.” his voice was unexpectedly soft as he rubbed slow circles on your back. You tried to nod when you noticed how damp your cheeks were. You were crying. You were crying in front of Pete Fucking Wentz.

You tried to wipe away your tears. Your unsteady hands painfully rubbed your face with too much force. He quickly grabbed your wrist but his touch was gentle.

“Don’t.” his voice was firm with an underlying softness “You’ll only hurt yourself.”

He tucked away your hair behind your ear to see your face before wiping away your tears with his thumb. His hand lingered around your cheek, gently cupping it. For some reason you melted into his hand like it was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

“I-” you started but you felt a lump in your throat.

He looked at you patiently encouraging you to finish.

“I’m sorry.”

His face softened, his brown eyes seemed so warm.

“Don’t apologize.”

“No. I mean it. I- I shouldn't wake you up. I don't know why I’m crying. I'm sorry.” you felt yourself turning into blabbering mess.

“Hey- hey, stop. It's okay.” his hand caressed your hair.

You felt tears blur vision in your eyes again. He saw that pulling you into hug. Your face hid in a crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around you. His warmth made your body relax, the tightness in your shoulders disappeared. You practically melted into him.

For a second you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Here you were, in bed with shirtless Pete Wentz - a guy that made your life hell, crying over a nightmare.

He felt your tears on his neck but he didn't care. He continued to gently comb through your hair as you calmed down.

“You want to lie down, sweetheart?” he asked, the nickname not feeling foreign on his lips.

You nodded not pulling away. His hand slid to your hips as he shifted. Now you were laying against his side, still hidden in his neck. Your hands were on his warm chest.

“It’s okay, I'm here.”

As you calmed down his hands were still wrapped tightly around you. After few minutes you finally pulled back a little to look up at him. He looked calm as his eyes searched your face for an answer.

“Better?” he asked.

You nodded slightly, just now seeing the way his neck was damp because of you. He noticed it smirking slightly.

“At least I'm not wearing a shirt, right?”

“I hate you.” you said but your voice lacked conviction.

“Sure, you do.”

You tried to hide a small smile that lingered on your lips. His smirk turned into something softer.

“You’re kind of cute, you know that?”

“What?” your voice was weirdly quiet as a blush went through your cheeks.

“You’re cute” he repeated “and I don't hate you that much.”

You swallowed. Your arms were still wrapped loosely around his neck. His hand steadied you around your waist while the other was still gently caressing your hair.

“I don't hate you too.” you whispered.

His grip around your waist tightened as he pulled you closer.

“Go to sleep, okay?” his thumb traced circles on your hip. “I’m here and I'm not going anywhere.”

He kissed your forehead as you put back your head in his neck. As you both fallen asleep you knew that the warmth of him would keep you safe from the bad dreams. Your breaths were steady in the same rhythm. You felt safe. You felt safe with Pete Wentz and for the first time in your life the thought of it wasn't ridiculous.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Tag: @unamzi

my contribution to the “give skeletons your period cramps” thing is actually to say that if killer were capable of having periods, he would eventually lose track of when it is likely to happen—due to all the resets, and very likely the withholding of information such as dates and time from him by Chara and or nightmare.

he would only ever suspect when his period is coming on due to unusually intense reactions from his body—such as sudden becoming aware of how exhausted and fatigued it is, sudden lock ups in parts of its body from either dt clogging joints or times where bones were broken and healed wrong.

his soul’s light may even flare in response to any cramps, although due to his high pain tolerance and detachment from his body, he is not able to feel them except for in stage 1 or 3.

instead his biggest problems would be intrusive thoughts that feel dissociative in nature—easily agitated by things that didn’t bother him before and increase in murderous urges, and thoughts of self harm such stabbing his abdomen or the area where the blood is coming from—not particularly for seemingly any reason, such as the emotions associated with stage 1.

perhaps desire to be in pain, because the body is supposed to be feeling hurt during these times and it feels strange to be without. perhaps a desire to punish it for “betraying” him.

He is probably actually pretty self destructive during his time of the month. Would probably do strange things with the blood like finger paint. Might give it a taste if he’s curious enough. If nightmare or chara had issue with all the blood getting everywhere but there was no period products available or withheld from him he’d probably have to make do with stifling the blood.

maybe he just stops caring at some point and free bleeds, although perhaps only if doing so would irritate nightmare/Chara or otherwise make someone uncomfortable in a way that amuses him. Although I moreso see something like this happening if he can’t get or find anything to stop the bleeding, and trying to convince himself he has control over it by finding amusement in others disgust, irritation, or discomfort.

however, since periods are something he yet again has no control over, he’d likely find a way to keep control in any way he can just like if he ever found himself pregnant. i honestly think things like pregnancy and periods would only greatly disturb him and further his sense of detachment from the body—and he probably has a lot of repressed hatred and rage and disgust towards his body.

at most he’s probably shove some old rags or shirts or toilet paper down there and basically tell the body to get over itself— while he probably actively makes it worse. there may be an uptick in his sadistic and masochistic tendencies (especially towards the body, but perhaps even anyone who provokes his irritation—although he is very unlikely to express things like annoyance or anger in typical ways, possibly by emotionally detaching further after even the most minor outburst), and he may experience an increase in paranoia and dissociation.

(and perhaps things like praise and validation from someone he trusts, like color, could help—although if it came from anyone else he’d probably immediately assume they are trying to manipulate him. and he is still likely to doubt even color, due to paranoia.)

so perhaps he will attempt to handle it himself, he absolutely will keep it an absolute secret and tell no one, and would probably avoid anything that could provoke a response from the body or him.

[ryanwritesfanfiction]

hiiii could I request something for Adam Stanheightttt ? Like an enemies to lovers type thingggg

Is this it?

Adam Stanheight x reader  

a/n im so sorry if this is too long or if its too rushed. im still new to writing im gonna get the hang of it i swear also i might do a part 2 im not sure yet if this warrants one :P |no use of pronouns or y/n

ps i kinda like giving these fics titles of song but they arent super related to the actual fic ;-; anyways feedback is much appreciated <3

wc: 1485

The first time I met Adam, I was moving into my new (to you at least, but actually very old) apartment after I decided I had enough of my parents. I was moving the remaining boxes into my apartment and I heard a shutter from a camera. In front of my door was a group of about 4 people wearing matching shirts that said  “Wrath of the Gods” and in front of them was a guy with a camera.

“Oh, excuse me,” I said holding the heavy boxes of my remaining belongings. They all turned at me and didn't say anything until a man with greasy brown hair in front of the camera spoke up “Hey” he said walking towards me and I decided to put the boxes down in front of the door they were currently blocking. 

“I’m Scott Tibbs lead singer of this band Wrath of the Gods, we’re just taking pictures for our new album, you should come to our show, we can always use more groupies” You stare at him for a while before the photographer spoke up 

“Hi, I’m Adam, you must be my new neighbor I live right across the hall right there” and he pointed to the door nearest to your apartment. “Hi,” you said and you introduced yourself as well before pausing “Do you think you could take pictures somewhere else so I can finish moving in?” you asked as you reached down to pick up the boxes.

 “Oh, right, yeah, sure,” Adam said awkwardly. He approached the band members and they all walked downstairs most likely to find a different place to finish their makeshift photoshoot. Adam followed behind them but before he turned to you and smiled. You smiled halfheartedly in return and finished settling into your new home. At that point, you had no idea that you would grow to hate your new neighbor. 

It was a buildup of more and more inconveniences like that which caused you to build a slow but strong resentment towards Adam. Things like leaving trash in the middle of the hall, coming home at 3 in the morning and making a bunch of noise, and the smell of cigarettes or weed always lingered in the hall because of him even though you lived in a smoke-free apartment.    

After a few times confronting him about his constant disturbances, he started to seem annoyed. You weren't sure at which point the hate between the two of you started but after living there a few months, anytime you saw Adam or he saw you both your eyes filled with an intense irritation and after a while, it became simply an immense anger. You were unaware that Adam’s hatred for you was not fueled by mere annoyance, but instead by a wall he built around his fear of not being able to have you.

 He was so sure that in your head he was nothing but an inconvenience that he had to convince himself that he didn't care, that he didn't want you to begin with. He pushed away any thought he had about you. It had started becoming increasingly difficult, he noticed, to pretend to hate you back. With every snarky comment that was exchanged between the two of you, he found himself focusing on everything except whatever you were mad about. He thought about the way your nose moved when you huffed angrily at him or the way you moved your hands when you were dumbing down why whatever stupid thing he did was a nuisance for you. 

The more the feud went on the more you found yourself hating things that you would never hate in anyone else and you didn’t know why. You hated the way hair fell on his face, you hated the way his whiny voice insisted that you were always blowing everything out of proportion but there was a part deep down that knew that even though you hated Adam, getting to see him an argue him was the best part of your day. 

There is such a small difference between anger and adoration because they are both just different forms of passion. Maybe you hated each other, it could be that you and Adam were just angry people or maybe you were both passionate people, that the world had bullied into just being angry. It’s possible that in a different life, in a different world, you and Adam could have been loving people. 

You weren't sure when you started hating Adam, and you were even less sure when the subconscious parts of your mind decided that you started loving him. 

You stopped one night outside your apartment building for a smoke when a small cat approached you, you put the cigarette out and reached down to pet it. The cat started meowing and you sat down on the ground next to it.  A shadow came towards you and you immediately recognized the voice, but it wasn’t talking to you, it was talking to the cat. “You should be quieter,” he said as he approached the feline, “this one seems to hate just about any noise or maybe just noise that I make ” he sat next to the cat so that it was between the two of you.

Perhaps it was because you were tired, or maybe that part of you that started to care for Adam had started to overpower the pettier part that “hated him”, but what you were sure of was that you were far too tired to engage in trivial disputes and you were also painfully aware that you were far too excited to see Adam. 

Your lack of reply didn’t go unnoticed by Adam and he paused for a minute confused by your lack of response, and maybe even a little hurt by it, as if your unwillingness to participate served as a rejection. “Hey,” he said softly as he gently placed his hand on your shoulder almost as if he was trying to wake you up. The physical contact caused you to look at him, there was a brief moment where you just looked at him, and neither of you noticed that the stray cat had already run off nor had you noticed that the space between the two of you was fairly small. The entire time you had known Adam you had never been this close physically, you took a few moments more to admire the way his features looked in the dim street lighting. 

“Hey,” you finally replied and you started to stand up off the ground while Adam did the same. “So um, you seem kinda out of it,” he said as you both made your way into the apartment building. You start to realize that what Adam is expressing is a genuine concern, and you begin to think that maybe Adam doesn't really hate you and you don't hate him. “Yeah I’m fine, just tired,” you reply. “That might be my fault,” he said in a sheepish, apologetic tone “I’ve been working night more and I might be a little loud when I come back home but it’s not on purpose honestly” he starts to ramble in a nervous way that you had never seen in him before. “It’s ok,” you say to him. “Are we?”  he says almost in a whisper as looks at you hesitantly for a little after asking. 

You look at him confused for a little before he clarifies “Are we ok? Like are we cool?” You smile at him before saying “I didn't know there was a ‘we’”. He smiles back at you, refreshed that your banter seems to be back, although now with much less animosity. “What if that’s what I wanted?” he said simply but with the veil of friendly banter that he leaned into out of fear of rejection. 

You were a little taken aback by his sudden boldness and so you couldn’t come up with a witty reply or any reply for that matter. “You don’t have to say yes” his voice interrupted the thought running through your mind, “But my friend Scott is in a band, they're having a concert next Friday and maybe” his voice trails off as if too scared to fully ask. “I would love to,” you said suddenly and Adam looked up at you surprised, but excited “Great! So, uh, it’s a date?” he asked. You smile and nod as you walk to the door of your apartment. “Yeah, a date, good night Adam,” you said before disappearing behind the door of your apartment. “Goodnight,” he said in an unusually upbeat tone. Adam took a second before going into his own apartment and silently praised himself for finally winning you over. Neither of you was sure when or why you started hating each other, but what you were both sure of was that you couldn’t wait until the next time you could see each other.

[argisthebulwark]

I see your posts about Miraak getting off on tld saying his mantra but what about him panicking instead cuz no no no not you, you were supposed to be the exception, please please snap out of it

Miraak had been bored for a very long time.

Everything was going a little too well - no one on Solstheim was able to get rid of the All-Maker Stones, the civilians were slowly coming to his aid, his mantra had spread across the island. Of course there were holdouts but that was to be expected. He had been frustrated, bored.

But then you came along.

You washed up on the shores of Raven Rock, a spring in your step and all-too willing to stick your nose where it didn't belong. Through all the annoyance Miraak knew there was a kernel of something he hadn't felt in more years than he could count - he was excited.

Every waking moment was spent watching you, the one he soon learned was Dovahkiin. He heard others refer to you as the Last Dragonborn, had so much time truly passed? He knew that he hadn't aged correctly, that being in Apocrypha had somehow removed him from the flow of natural time, but he'd lost count of how many others had lived and died in his absence.

Soon enough you even invaded his dreams. He blamed the connection your shared Dragon blood allowed for such thoughts but he did nothing to shake them. He saw that dimpled smile and the endearing way you twirled at your hair when you were deep in thought. Miraak itched for more and found ways to insert himself in your life, tired of watching and waiting for you to come to him.

Oh how he relished the hatred in your eyes when he stole that first Soul. He liked the smile he saw from a distance but being so close to you, feeling your presence and seeing that rage screw up on your face was glorious.

No one had dared to go against him in ages.

Miraak kept at it. He craved your anger, yearned for the hatred you flung his way every time he appeared. He could only appear in your plane for a few moments before his strength was sapped but it was more than worth it to see you. That sick sense of glee welled up in his chest when he saw you chuck a sword in his direction, snarling and threatening him. He was thankful for the mask as it hid the smile on a face he feared seeing in the mirror.

Stealing Dragon Souls was fun and gave his power a boost but he found himself itching for more. He dreamed of returning to Nirn and visiting you as more than a shadow of himself. Would you make good on all your threats? Would you tear him to shreds or shove a sword through his chest as you'd claimed during your last few meetings? Something was oddly intriguing about finding someone who could finally stand up to him, who saw through the illusions he'd so carefully curated.

When you found the first Black Book he felt it. He felt you in his realm, somewhere far off and untouchable but he felt you all the same. Mora's maze kept him miles away from wherever you'd ended up but he caught fleeting glimpses of you scurrying through traps and slashing your way through the books.

It was addictive. Even after you left Apocrypha he searched for any trace of you left behind. When he found a footprint in the grimy dust of an often ignored library his heart froze, senses focusing entirely on the proof that you'd been close.

He was frazzled when he watched you cleanse the Wind Stone. Part of him was terrified that you were going after the years of work he'd done while the other was thrilled. You knew where he was and you were strong enough to go up against him. Finally there was someone else with his powers, someone who understood how badly it had fucked him up to be the Dragonborn.

Miraak watched in his mingled state of horror and fascination as you cleansed the next All-Maker Stone. He fell into a deeper sleep than he'd had in years that night, dreams of you taunting him. In some you joined him, dark magic twining you together until he wasn't sure where he ended and you began, powers from Mora and Akatosh himself twisting into one unbeatable force. In others you held a sword to his throat and finally ended his impossibly long existence. He didn't know which scared him more.

"Here do we toil."

Miraak shot up in his bed, brain filled with images of you. Horror dawned on him when he saw you mindlessly stumbling around one of the remaining All-Maker Stones you had left for the next day. He remembered hearing you tell some companion that you were exhausted and needed rest to tackle the next one, exhaustion slowing your steps until you fell into a seat at Raven Rock's tavern. He'd watched you order a drink and laugh at something that sell-sword had said, hating the jealousy ripping through his chest.

"That we might remember, by night we reclaim."

No.

Those words he'd chosen so carefully sounded perverse in your voice. He knew the power your voice held, his apparition had been destroyed by a few of your Shouts. It wasn't supposed to sound that empty.

Miraak wanted to tear the world to shreds to make you stop. His fingers tore through the parchment on his desk with a devastating need to destroy. He would bring the world to its knees just to see the hatred he loved so much in your lifeless eyes.

"Our eyes once were blinded. Now through him do we see."

You were supposed to be stronger than him. You weren't supposed to get sucked in. You were the Last Dragonborn. You were his last hope, the one who was going to save him or kill him. You were destined to be the end of his life one way or the other.

He'd never appeared on Nirn without relying on absorbing a Dragon Soul but he didn't think. Miraak projected the weaker aspect of himself to Solstheim before he could blink, hands ghosting through your shoulders in an attempt to stop you. There was no recognition in your gaze, no simmering anger or threats. There was nothing left.

"Snap out of it." He pleaded, voice echoing from somewhere far away. You shoved through his ghostly form toward the Beast Stone without sparing him a second glance. Panic stole the breath from his lungs and he was gasping, begging you to show him there was still a spark of you in there somewhere. He couldn't feel you anymore.

"And when the world shall listen."

"Please." He reached for your face but there was nothing there, his hands shimmering and unable to touch.

"And when the world shall see."

"I'll do anything." He was desperate, willing to make deals with whatever god was still listening to get you back. "I'll end it all just please come back to me Dragonborn."

"And when the world remembers."

"You were supposed to be stronger than this!"

"That world shall cease to be."

[honey-on-your-tongue]

The Hard Way

Independent one-shot

Miles Quaritch x female reader!

masterlist

This one goes out to @touchedflowers I hope you enjoy it love!!!

Summary: You're under Quaritch's command, and he trains you. Except he's not looking to teach you to fight, only looking to teach you to fuck.

Warnings: smut. Degradation. A little bit of fluff. Na'vi in heat. Rough sex. A tad of dacryphilia. Aaaand I think that's about it.

Never, in your entire career, did you ever think you’d end up being under Miles Quaritch. Under his careful training, his tough way of dealing with the rookies, his almost cruel demeanor.

And yet here you are, in the training room that’s been modified to fit Na’vi, to withstand their force. You’re wearing a pair of biker shorts and a sports bra, a pair of boxing gloves in your hands as Miles holds his hands up for you to punch.

But with every blow you land, he is disappointed. “Not strong enough,” he sighs. “Your aim’s off.” He’ll roll his eyes. “If you fight someone like this, you’ll die out there.”

You’re doing your best, his complaints tiring you out until you’re breathing heavy and sweating. Your frustration bubbles under your skin, blood boiling with annoyance and a tad of hatred. You hate training sessions with Miles, hate how fucking cruel he is, how he almost enjoys being mean to you.

And what’s worse, no one’s around to witness. You hate these private sessions.

Eventually, you’ve had enough. You huff in annoyance, lowering your arms and wrestling your gloves off. Miles simply watches you, almost looking amused.

“I’m done,” you snap at him. “I’m fucking done.”

You turn to leave, heading for the exit, when he calls after you, “Don’t get upset at me. It’s not my fault you’re not fucking good enough.”

This stops you in your tracks and you whirl around to glare at him. “I’m not good enough?” you echo, scoffing. “Maybe if you took the time to actually fucking train me instead of just judging me, I’d get somewhere. All you ever do is tell me that I’m not doing it well.”

Miles sneers. “You want me to praise you, is that it?” he mocks.

You roll your eyes. “Go fuck yourself. I’m done.”

You’re not even close to the door when Miles has grabbed you by the wrist and spun you back to him. “Apologize,” he demands, his eyes predatory as they stare down at you, his lips drawn back in a snarl.

You scoff, pushing him away. “No.”

He pushes you back until you’re against the wall and he towers over you, crowding your personal space. “I said, apologize.”

“I’m not going to apologize. I’ve done nothing wrong—”

Miles laughs, the sound sending goosebumps across your skin, and he presses his body against yours. When his hips meet your torso, you’re shocked to find his cock hard as it pokes your stomach, and you look up into Miles’ eyes, uneasy.

“That’s your fault,” Miles announces, his voice growing lower. “You don’t think you owe me an apology for that?”

“I owe you an apology because you’re a perv?” you accuse, but your cheeks are warming, your thighs pressing together.

“You owe me an apology for being the fucking brat you are,” he growls. “It’s because you misbehave and Goddamn, I gotta put you in your place.”

You blink up at him, study the way his eyes are blown over with lust, the way his breathing grows intense, the thick scent that invades you and fills your mind with nothing but him.

And then you get it, and then you realize what’s going on, why he’s aroused over a display of disobedience.

“Miles, are-are you in heat?” you ask, your voice trembling.

He drags his teeth over his lower lip. “About fuckin’ time you noticed,” he tells you. “Fuck, you can be dense, can’t you?”

Your ears fold against your hair. “I-I hadn’t noticed.”

“Yeah, yeah, sweetheart. You were oblivious about it. ‘nough talkin’. You gonna lend me your pussy to fuck or not?”

You sigh softly as one of his hands grips onto your hip, gently rolling his hard cock against you.

“Mm,” you whine lowly. “‘m yours to use.”

Miles smirks. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He grips onto your shorts, yanking them with enough strength to rip them from your body before discarding the shredded clothing. His eyes fall to your pussy, his eyes growing lidded.

“Such a pretty pussy,” he groans. “Perfect hole for my cock.” One of his long fingers finds your folds, tracing between them, caressing your entrance as you clench around nothing. He pushes his finger into you, your muscles offering almost no resistance, and he shudders. “Too tight to fuck,” he grumbles.

You shake your head desperately, hands grasping onto his forearms in dire need. “Doesn’t matter,” you whimper. “Fuck me already. Please.”

He snarls as his lust overcomes him, his mind going haywire, seeing little purple dots across his vision. “You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that,” he groans, his hard-on straining against his gray sweats, his precum staining the fabric. He tugs his pants down and kicks them off. You’re not surprised to find he’s gone commando; with the size of his cock, you assume it would be uncomfortable to keep it restrained in a pair of boxers.

Miles hauls you up, holding you from beneath your thighs as he thrusts into you, his cock almost splitting you open. You whimper, hands falling to his shoulders and holding on for dear life. He ruts into you cruelly, filling you to the brim.

Miles grunts into your ear, his hips smashing into yours, his hands bruising your thighs. “So fuckin’ tight,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ knew you’d take my cock like a good whore.”

“Hurts,” you whine, closing your eyes and throwing your head back against the wall. “Daddy, ‘t hurts.”

Miles lets out an amused, shocked sound. “I’m your daddy, sweetheart?” he mocks, laughing. “I knew you were fucking dirty, I just didn’t expect you to be this much of a slut.”

You mewl. “‘m a slut,” you echo, his cock bruising your cervix with so much force, you can’t think anymore. “‘m a slut.”

“Yeah, Daddy’s little slut, aren’t ya?”

“Daddy’s slut! Daddy’s slut!”

Miles grunts and groans, obsessed with how your pussy clenches around his throbbing cock. “Fuck, I need you on all fours. Need to fuck you like the whore you are.” He pulls out of you, pushing you to the ground and flipping you onto your hands and knees.

He kneels behind you and sheathes his cock into you once more, his pace unforgiving, one of his hands gripping the fat of your ass while the other pushes your back down, forcing your chest to the ground.

Your back arches, ass pressing against his groin, and you mewl at the new angle. “Mm! Daddy! ‘S so good! Oh, fuck!”

Miles chuckles. “Yeah, I know. I know you fuckin’ love this cock, hm? Come on it for me, yeah?”

You nod, gasping and whimpering, legs trembling. “Wanna come on your cock, Daddy. Want y’to make me come!”

“I’ll make you come on my cock, sweet. I’ll make you cream all over.”

You beg and mewl, pussy dripping down your thighs and his, dripping onto the mat below. You can feel your orgasm rising within you, softly caressing its way up your back, like placing little, hot pats to your lower back and on the sides of your waist.

“Daddy,” you moan. “Daddy! Daddy!”

“Come for me, slut,” he groans. “Come for me.”

Your body disobeys you and obeys him. You come, orgasm wrecking you, slick coating over the back of your thighs and most of Miles’ hips.

“That’s it, atta girl,” he gasps, feeling your arousal gush around his cock. “So fucking pretty as you come for me.”

He pulls out of you and flips you onto your back. “Wanna see your face while I fill you with my cum,” he grunts, thrusting into you again.

You whine and shake, your pussy too sensitive to withstand the attack. “Please, please,” you mewl. “Fuck, ‘s too much!”

“You said you were my whore, didn’t you?” he demands, slapping the inside of your thigh.

“Yes, ‘m yours! ‘M yours!”

He scoffs. “Prove it, then,” he tells you. He slows his thrusts and reaches over his shoulder for his braid.

Your eyes widen as you study his queue. A little timidly, you reach for yours, holding it out to his.

You watch his eyes, eager and anxious, as the tendrils connect. You feel his pleasure rush through you, your own pleasure intensified. You gasp and throw your head back, hips bucking up against his.

Miles can feel what you feel. He really has been fucking you dumb, he realizes. He continues thrusting, increasing the speed and strength the more he feels you like it.

You’re crying and mewling, tears spilling from your eyes at the unbearable pleasure. “Daddy, please,” you whine. “Please.”

“What do you want?” he questions, one of his hands finding your clit.

“Kiss!” you gasp. “Kiss me! Daddy, please.”

Miles almost freezes at the request. “Kiss?” he echoes, his eyes studying your face.

“Please. Please. Kiss.”

Something inside of him grows soft and warm, his expression softening a little. He leans down, caging your body under his, and he presses his lips to yours.

You exhale, satisfied, and he smiles against your mouth, thrusting into you a little faster. His tongue darts out of his mouth to lick your lips. You open your mouth for him, allowing his tongue to meet yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, feeling your orgasm threatening to burst over you.

Miles can feel it too. “Go on, baby,” he says. “Come again for Daddy, yeah?”

You whine into his mouth and he swallows the sound. Your nails drag against his shoulders, your back arches and presses your chest to his. You’re shaking and trembling, tears decorating your cheeks and staining his lips as he licks them off.

“Fuck,” he grunts, thrusting into you faster, and you finally come. Your body shakes under his and you cry out, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!”

You tighten around him and force him to his own orgasm, allowing him to fill you up, your stuffed pussy dripping his cum and yours to the mat below.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he says, kissing your lips again.

You hum, content, as you reply. “I’m yours, Daddy.”

He chuckles. “You’re all mine.”

[team5ds]

where demons play

Summary: this was not supposed to be her job. her job is to be rescued. that's what all the myths say.

Rating: T

Ships: Link/Zelda

Author’s note: written for @sapphic-september with the prompt of "possessed". based on the echoes of wisdom trailer. contains no references to ANY leaks.

read on ao3 / support me on kofi (battle city & up supporters get early access) / join my discord (18+)

This wasn't supposed to be her job. This was her brave swordswoman's job. She read the legends back and forth - always the princess was hands off. She stayed in the castle or was trapped or otherwise occupied while the swordswoman of legend battled her way through tests of strength and wit, testing the balance between the Triforce in her as she clawed her way to the princess. Instead, Zelda was the one being tested. Was she a failure of a princess? Was she being punished for something? She didn't know, and she didn't want to think about that. Right now, Link was in danger. Her father was in danger. The entire country was in danger. She needed to have courage in the face of this, and she needed to prove her own balance in the Trifocre. That's what a hero is supposed to - have a balance of courage, power, and wisdom.

She'd cried enough over the fate of the kingdom that was now squarely in her hands. When she was thrown into the dungeon, she recalled the story of how the hero would often be painted as a villain by Ganondorf's forces. She didn't believe it until her own knights had turned against her, accusing her of being the reason why her father was taken. For a moment, she almost believed them.

Now she stood at the end of a long dungeon, having battled her way to the heart of it. She was battered, bruised, and she was near exhausted. When she saw the back of Link, her heart started to race. She was going to be fine. Except... something didn't seem quite right. "Link," she said, unbuckling her cloak. She could finally give it back to her. "I've kept... Link?" She felt unsettled the more steps she took into the chamber. And then Link turned to face her - and the sheer hatred in her eyes nearly knocked Zelda back. Still, she tried to reach her anyway. "Link?"

Link unsheathed her sword, and leaped forward. Instead of connecting with Zelda, her sword connected with a bed that Tri had summoned for her. "Princess, I do not think this is the Link you knew," the fairy advised as Link yanked back the sword. Her stomach lurched as it finally sunk in that Link had been trying to kill her. Her swordswoman of legend had attacked her - and even though she never connected an attack, it felt worse than if she'd actually been stabbed. "I suggest you fight for your life."

Zelda took a step back, shaking her head. "I need to get through to her," she argued, stopping yet another attack. "She has to be in there somewhere. Link, please, listen to me!"

The fight had begun, and what scared Zelda the most was that she didn't know how it was going to end. She couldn't bear the idea of her swordswoman dead in this chamber, and with every echo she threw Link's way, she cut through it like it was a minor annoyance. Link was courageous, relentless, and smart - all of which was now squarely targeted towards her. She could swear she heard Ganondorf's laughter rumbling through the chamber as she played defense, attempting for any sign of Link returning back to her.

[uchihaxitachi]

I came to annoy you with Yazuka Itachi once more <3 (i can't help myself )

Just hear me out, Yazuka Itachi, realising he has a detective on his trail (He practically Owns the city since this man has several nightclubs, hotels, shops, etc.) The thing is, the detective is a woman and immediately catches his attention, he notices she is more intelligent than she shows herself to be and he decides to discuss with her, she quickly catches on and she jails him.

But instead of being mad, he's charmed. HEAR ME OUT but inteligent minded women who have morals are his type. He loves (corrupting them) so, at the Police station this man GASLIGHTS Everyone thought he was just the owner and was innocent except he's being honest with the detective and everyone thinks she is crazy because "clearly" he' innocent and Itachi straight flirts with the detective also giving honest answers and no one believes her. Ever. Here is a convo when he was about to leave:

"You've just gaslighted my colleagues into thinking your innocent but you won't trick me"

Itachi: Gaslighting? No, I am straight-up lying.

Then Proceeds to give her his number.

And always sabotages her plans no matter what. He is always ten steps ahead of everyone with that keen mind of his and he finds it adorable, her little sense of justice that he'll easily crush.

Sweetheart, you’re never an annoyance. I love your takes on Itachi and how your brain brings up the absolute best takes. <33

Also this??? Hello??? I’m absolutely floored by this. It’s so hot 🥵 Yakuza Itachi who finally has someone interesting to play with since the entire world is obviously too boring. When he gives her his number, the look in her eyes is of pure betrayal and hatred. Itachi almost falls in love with it except he wants to play around some more.

“Maybe next time; I presume you will try harder.”

“One time or the other I’d have better proof.”

He chuckles, there is a poised, indignant tone to his laughter as he clicks his tongue, “I look forward to that, beautiful Detective.”

He is definitely losing sleep over this 🤭 he wants her to call him so bad. 😩

[haveihitanerve]

Home

Kaz Brekker stood in his small, cramped attic room, and stared out the window. Fat drops of rain pelted the glass and Kaz lips twitched as he watched a few last minute shoppers rush home through the downpour they were facing. His ungloved hands were clasped in front of him, but they dropped to dangle at his sides instead when he heard the door creak. “Hello Inej.” He said, his voice hardly louder than a whisper. She had wanted him to be aware of his arrival, for while the door had creaked, no other sound was made until she stood at his side, her slender fingers sliding into his. Kaz squeezed them, marveling at her soft hands, and the fact that he could do this. Hold the hand of the woman he loved without freezing up, or shaking, or having violent flashbacks. She had broken his fear/hate/dislike/trauma of touch slowly, recruiting Jesper for help, since the two of them had known him the longest and were closest to him, so their touch was known. It still made Kazs heart twist a little, in fondness and affection, when he thought of how ready the two had been to help him overcome this. The thought that they still cared for him, despite all he had done, despite who he was, and how he had treated them. Albeit there own selfish reasons for wanting to break his hatred of touch. They had gone slow, and Kaz was grateful, though he knew they were both eager. Despite her years at the menagerie, Inej’s love language was touch, and Jesper had grown up in a very affectionate household. But they had always been good about it.

Inej had never touched him except maybe to brush against his side in passing, or a light hand on the shoulder. And Jesper had refrained from hugging him, or slapping him on the back, or ruffling his hair the way he was prone to doing with other Crows. Instead Jesper had always kept his hands to himself, knocking their shoulders together in silent comradery, offering a fist bump in place of a hug. It had never been intended to break his dislike of touch, but now it had turned into it. Inej would slide up behind him and press herself against his back for a second, longer each time, before pulling away again, never staying long enough to suffocate him. She would trace patterns across his chest and shoulders and brows, fingertips trailing lightly across his skin. She would brush their fingers together, maybe hook one or two, but never for too long. Never too much. Jesper increased his shoulder bumping activities, and sometimes would even venture to drape his arm around Kaz’s shoulders for a quick second before pulling away again. When Kaz would sit down, Jesper would sit next to him and grab his legs so they slung over his lap, playing drums on his good knee. As time had worn on, Kaz had found himself enjoying the simple touches, and on occasion he would even miss them, or seek them out. The two Crows had never pushed, and somehow also knew how much Kaz was able to handle without he even knowing himself. Apparently today was a good day, because Inej slid her whole hand inside of his, entwining their fingers together. Kaz let his thumb circle lightly on her knuckles, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Hello Kaz.” she whispered. “Hello Jesper!” Came the call from the door as it was kicked open and Jesper strolled in. He grinned at them both, joining them at the window and draping an around around Kaz’s shoulders. Kaz rolled his eyes. His room had always been a safe haven, a place he could get away from everyone, but somehow that everyone no longer applied to the Six of Crows. Not that Kaz could say the definition of his room had changed. “Its a beauty aint it?” Jesper asked with a pleased sigh, leaning his head against Kaz’s. “What is?” Kaz asked in mild annoyance, leaning his head away only to knock it back harder. Jesper snorted, rubbing his head before placing it right back where it had started. Kaz grumbled. “Our city.” He pointed at the window. “Ain't she gorgeous?” he breathed in reverent awe. “You got the best view of her Kaz. Thats for sure.” Inej hummed her agreement but Kaz frowned, trying to see the city the way they did. As a place of beauty. And maybe it was the fact that he was holding Inejs hand without his gloves. Or maybe it was the fact that despite his attempted annoyance at Jesper, he was really enjoying the way his arm wrapped around his shoulders. Or maybe it was his throbbing head from knocking too hard into Jespers, but whatever the reason, it was as though Kaz truly was seeing the city through new eyes. “Yes.” he breathed, blinking a few times in surprise. “She really is.”

[tealmaskmybeloved]

Some headcanons for Toxic Consequences AU that I'm throwing out here:

1. Dokutaro and Okidogi have the strongest bond out of the Loyal 3 since Okidogi was the first one to be helped by Dokutaro. (In fact, Okidogi is considered to almost be a friend to the peach guy)

2. The Loyal 3's hidden abilities were their abilities before they met Dokutaro and got the Toxic Chain.

3. Okidogi's old ability was Guard Dog. It has the Pokémon's attack boost by 1 stage instead of lowered when hit with Intimdate. It also prevents the user from switching out from moves like Roar. I imagined Okidogi to basically not back down or flee from a battle, no matter how strong the opponent is.

4. Munkidori's old ability was Frisk. It lets the user check the opponent's Pokémon held item. Because of that, I like to think Munkidori was some kind of scout or watchman before meeting Dokutaro.

5. Fezandipiti's old ability was Technician. It increases the power of moves that are usually 60 base power or below by 50%. I like to imagine that Fezandipiti would always try boosting its appearance before meeting Dokutaro.

6. While Munkidori and Fezandipiti were unidentified Pokémon before getting the Toxic Chain, Fezandipiti was an Unfezant. (It also explains his undying hatred towards them in my AU)

7. Fezandipiti is trans (ftm) because I say so.

8. Fezandipiti can also captivate and somewhat manipulate people with its pheromones. This isn't as strong as flat out mind control, but it makes for a great backup.

9. Okidogi carries Kieran around sometimes, and also if Kieran needs to reach higher places.

10. Dokutaro chills in Kieran's backpack while he's at school. Drayton always points this out much to Kieran's annoyance.

11. There's multiple of Ogerpon's species, and they're all based on different fruits! (Except peaches)

12. Somewhat related, there's different kinds of Pecharunts! Except they're based on the different status effects (burn, frozen, paralyzed, asleep), and they're all Ghost type!

13. Like Dokutaro, the other Runts can all bind other Pokémon and people to their will, but most of them are friendly and do it as a sign of friendship, not control.

14. Ogerpon didn't know that Dokutaro was the plush at Peachy's. (In my au, she'd only really got a glimpse of Dokutaro and wasn't able to kick his ass)

15. Ogerpon's horns change shape depending on the mask she's wearing.

16. Kieran's favorite snacks are mochi and chocolate. He also enjoys popcorn from time to time (NOT KETTLECORN THAT THING IS AN ABOMINATION TO LIFE ITSELF /j)

17. The Toxic Chains have Dokutaro's poison inside them, and if they were the break, the poison would spill out.

18. Also the Toxic Chains taste sweet but with a disgusting aftertaste. (do not try this at home kids)

Anyways, let me know what you think! Feel free to ask questions etc.

[bloxtales-dawn-of-timeau]

{"Hey Sheddy... There's people with us..."}

"I know. I don't want to acknowledge them yet."

-🗡---⏳️---🌐---🔨---🍗-

[EDIT: I'm gonna edit this shit a lot. Please expect changes]

📝INFO - Heya this is an Ask blog/Story blog for My Blocktales AU, Blox Tales: Dawn of Time. Also, I made this Blog intending to have a Shedletsky Ask Blog with my twist, but I decided to include him alongside my Main OC, Coiler also known as Player or Daniel! It'll be mostly text with some Gacha Life 2 images (ADHD is a nightmare). But If I had enough motivation, there would be drawings! (I'm not a great artist. Believe me) Also, this is my first ask blog!

🚫DNI REQUIREMENTS - No pedophiles, or other gross stuff. The Poster is uncomfortable with those stuff, so stay veryyyy far away.

💖SHIPS - The Main Ship is between Shedletsky and Coiler, but any ships are indeed allowed and They can be shipped with anyone you want. (Pls note: Shedletsky and Brighteyes are just friends in my AU and are not married)

📔AU - While this is not yet a complete Au, it's still an AU. Which means a lot of things will be different. If you don't like that, you can create your own Ask blog. Nothing is stopping you. But please note, this is fanfiction and any person that is mentioned or appears here is only the character and not the real person.

Anyway, This is my AU:

This is a Block Tales x The Robloxian: Until Dawn au but there are major changes. (Like Myths, YouTubers, and popular Players exist, and other games appear are mentioned) The Crossover is only gonna be between the characters, and Coiler's flashback.

The Guardians are a special rank in the administration group, and have a weaker version of the admin command. They are the wielders of the SFOTH swords and have been assigned by the swords themselves to protect it. Though sometimes, the sword goes rouge and kills its wielder to be wielded by a new one (For example, The Ice Dagger killed its user and handed itself to Cruel King)

Roblox (The character) is the one that send Coiler and Guest 333 back in time to save Builderman and Erik.cassel before its too late.

Instead of being alone, Coiler is joined by his past self, Dylan (Before he became a Guardian), Noobin (Saw noob past self), and Gust (Guest's past self).

They are also joined by Guest 333 also known as "Viewer" or "Viny", He's a white hat hacker (like Inc0mu) fighting against the evil myths/hackers/admins/players, He died but he managed to give Roblox a piece of his code that serves as his current vessel. He's a replacement for the Heal pads and will not be fighting as he's still recovering.

No one except Shedletsky, Mayor Thaniyel, and The bosses know that Coiler has a team as they often split up and then regroup when near the boss area, and everyone thinks that he defeated the bosses alone

In Demo 3, instead of fighting 4 emotions, he'll be fighting 5 emotions. GREED and SOLITUDE are replaced by DOUBT and ENVY. The new emotion, GUILT, will replace HATRED as the final boss, They each represent each party member's strongest negative emotion. (DOUBT = Gust, ENVY = Dylan, FEAR = Viny, HATRED = Noobin, and lastly GUILT = Coiler)

Griefer survives stabbing his food, but his right leg is now gone. He still hears voices but it's faint, He's sometimes dragged by Gust to join them, much to Noobin's annoyance.

Coiler, and sometimes the entire group visit the other places when they get bored, and often had to fight rouge player

It's been 6 months since Coiler and Viny start their journey to prevent the future. Because why would it take just a few days to get the swords? They have to atleast have breaks and challenges.

[IF YOU WANT MORE LORE OR INFORMATION, JUST ASK ME. I'll RESPOND IF I HAVE THE TIME]

👤CHARACTERS - The Main characters will be Coiler, and Shedletsky. And the side characters will be Viny, Dylan, Noobin and Gust. But other characters can appear and take over too!

📝TEXT GUIDE -

Texts associated with Coiler is Pink

Texts associated with Shedletsky is orange

Characters like Viny, Noobin, Gust and Dylan will have their own colored texts, while other characters has their unique texts

Coiler and other Admins talks with a curly brakets, Viny, Benjamin, and Zabriel (Kitchen Wizard) talk with a Parentheses (because they're considered dead), Gust talk with square braket cus he's mute, and other have quotation marks.

🔖TAGS -

#"{What's Up?}" - Coiler & Shedletsky ask

#"{Living the life}" - Coiler & Shedletsky post

#<Um... hi?> - The poster interaction

#{"Can answer that."} - Coiler ask

#{"I keep seeing memories...} - Coiler post

#"This is a good distraction from my life." - Shedletsky ask

#"I'm worried about my mental health" - Shedletsky post

#(You feel like being watched) - Viny mentioned

#(A wild code appear!) - Viny featured

#*Causing Chaos* - Dylan/Noobin/Gust mentioned

#"The kids are here!" - Dylan/Noobin/ Gust featured

#"I wonder where are they..." - other characters mentioned

#"There you are." - Other characters featured

#<OOC TIME!!!> - OOC/Normal posts

#<If only it didn't happen...> - Backstory Posts

#<Back to Game!> - Story posts

[Note: Some tags are the posters reaction]

[norwigianbluefairy]

A Court Of Fire and Earth - Chapter Two.

Staring at the amber eyed male standing directly across from her, Aurora could do little but blink in pure shock. Out of all the things he could have asked of her, she never in a million years expected him to ask for anything like this.

"I beg your pardon?"

Shifting slightly on his feet as if her stare made him somewhat uneasy, Eris Vanserra reached to pluck a flower from the bouquet; choosing a golden-yellow daisy, which he twirled between his fingers, studying it for half a heartbeat before his eyes flickered back to hers.

"Come with me to the Gathering."

Placing a hand on the table for support, Aurora let out a soft laugh of disbelief. She had, of course, heard mumbles of the Gathering from the workers and farmers that visited the mansion from time to time with supplies.

All the high lords and human kings, lords, and important people gathered in one place to discuss and update the treaty since the wall fell seven years ago.

Aurora herself had never taken much interest in the politics of the courts or the human lands beyond their borders, nor had she ever been allowed to take part in anything of importance.

"Why would I?"

Amber eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the challenge in her voice, it seemed the male was otherwise completely unfrazzled by her responds except for the small smile that was now slowly curling his lips upwards as he drawled at her like a lazy feline stretching in the morning sun.

"Because I asked nicely?" 

"So you expect me to just pack up my stuff and leave with you, a stranger, just because you asked me nicely?"

"Yes."

His blunt responds made the female clenching her teeth in annoyance, however, she chose not to react. Her instinct was to snap back at him, to return his attitude with her own, but that wouldn't get her anywhere. So instead she let out a annoyed sigh, gently rubbing the spot between her eyes.

"How in the world is me going to this meeting possibly going to serve any of you?"

"Because you are my wife, and..."

Eris paused briefly as Aurora choked on air at the mention of her attachment to the Autumn heir, coughing rather dramaticlly. Pretending he didn't take notice of her reaction, Eris simply continued.

"... and father demands your presence."

Sapphire blue eyes narrowing dangerously to slits of sharded diamonds that twinkled in the sunlight streaming through the windows above the main entrance, Aurora quickly regained her composure.

She did not like the sound of this. Her mouth felt dry, and the warm energy that slithered just beneath her skin began to stir, reacting to the sharp stab of fear that now echoed through the hollow of her bones.

"Your father, or mine? 

The years of hiding her fear came to good use as she did little to hide the pure disgust from her voice; hearing how it practically dripped from her lips like venom, the word father stumbled over her tongue; the concept in itself was completely foreign to her, so she didn't have to fake that part.

Hopefully, the male couldn't scent her fear from where he stood, that would have been really embarrassing.

~~~

There was enough hatred in her voice to make him pause to stare at her for half a second, quickly realizing several things. 

One, she held no affection for her father. 

Two, she wasn't particularly pleased that she had been summoned like a dog. Because that was exactly what Lord Hallewell had done. Even his own father had given the Lord a long glance at the way he had refused to even mention her name, simply referring to her as "the child".

And three, the female was very likely stab him if he attempted to bring her along by brute force.

So deciding that his life was far too precious to him to tempt fate by acting recklessly, Eris suddenly found himself thankful for the table between them as he drawled.

"Both."

Something dark and vicious slithered through those mesmerizing blue eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving him unsure if he actually saw it or simply imagined it.

"So I am to be presented as a pretty ornament to further boost the power and appearance of a court that don't even know my name?"

Eris found himself admiring her feistiness. He had been told enough times that he had an intimidating and intense presence. All his life, even before he'd earned his reputation, people had been wary of him, and as a child, this had irritated him. However, it had become so normal for him through the centuries that her fire felt like a breath of fresh air he didn't know he needed.

He knew that his eyes had shamlessly roamed over her body as she spoke, taking in the female's rather mouthwatering curves and lean yet soft muscles that sleakly wrapped over a delicate bone structure that gave him all kinds of dirty fantasies, before eventually returning their attention to her mouth as they had countless times since he entered the mansion.

He couldn't quite help himself. Plush, carnal, and soft lips that currently pealed back to reveal a perfectly pearly set of teeth, the elongated canines adorning her upper jaw snatched him out of his thoughts, his eyes shooting up to meet hers.

And as she met his stare boldly, it occurred to him that it was very possible that he had found someone who could outstare him.

"Not exactly how they phrased it, but yes that is the general impression I got from the conversation."

Chewing on her lower lip, which was so distracting that Eris almost reached across the table to gently tug the silken flesh free from her teeth, unholyly tempted to sink his own teeth into them as he was sure they would not only feel amazing but taste just as sweet, the male almost sagged in relief as she eventually turned to her maid, mumbling a few things that escaped him, but if the other female's expression was anything to go by, Aurora had come to the same conclusion as he had on the way over here.

Fighting the pull of the higher ranking royals of the Autumn Court was pointless, as they would drag her out by her hair if she didn't agree to go with him today.

He didn't like how well-versed she appeared to be in the brutality of his court, as if she somehow had been exposed to it, but there was little he could do to change that if that had been the case. He could, however, do his best to prevent it from happening again while he was around, which he realized then and there would be quite often, as staying away after this would no longer an option. 

After a few words exchanged with the maid, the female turned back to face him, her tan complexion slightly paler than earlier, the flush in her cheeks gone, replaced by shadows of what lay may ahead.

"I shall accompany you to the Gathering. However, do not get any ideas. I purely agree to this out of self preservation.."

Something in her eyes told him that she understood more than she said. Understood some of the danger not only to her but to him as well if she didn't agree.

Gathering the hem of her skirt in hand, Aurora rounded the table that had worked as a barrier between them up until now, and it was only as she came close enough for him to count the strands of gold falling in warm waves down over her collarbone that he realized how small she actually was in contrast to himself. She barely stood tall enough to reach his shoulders, which, for some unexplainable reason, he found beyond adorable.

Instintively, Eris inhaled deeply as she came near, realizing too late that doing so had been a big mistake. Fuck.

The sweet scent of wildflowers, sweet honey, peaches, and apple blossom slammed into his system and shot straight to his already hard cock. 

It was an effort not to growl in arousal as he went to follow her, those sun- golden curls bounching against the emerald fabric of her dress as she elegantly made her way down the path leading up to the house.

[chocolatespyro]

chikn nuggit spoilers in Lint's speech bubble if you care about that

I absolutely love and adore that trope of a character literally going off about something that only they care enough about to someone else who has no fucking clue what the hell is going on but is in for the ride anyways (usually in annoyance or complete and absolute hatred)

It's so goddamn funny but yeah sometimes I talk a lot about stuff and it's all just horrible word vomit for the next person to try and piece together lmaoooo. fun fact this is a legitimate thought/thing I wanted to write out or tell someone because. I follow chikn nuggit lore now I guess???

I'll put a text version down here at some point today so people can actually read my nightmare-inducing rambling of thoughts anyways

Also the other object guy is also my character lol he's an emu egg

Not gonna put this in main tags except for my art tag bcus this is just so dumb so yeah HJGHHFU

Lint: yeah so like, instead of making bezel open a body-horror esque mouth like with i-scream they should've just made it so that when cofi asks bezel how he eats the fucker just spins the hands on his clock and the music gets slower and distorted as the audience watches the food crumble and rot away from age. And then you look at Cofi and she is literally like "what" as it cuts to her being visibly older like WOULDNT HAVE THAT BEEN SO MUCH MORE SCARY??? BUT ALSO SUPER FUNNY AT THE SAME TIME???? like you have this terrifying god creature and you DON'T do something like that with him??? HUH??? Like. There 2 are on completely different power levels and yet they eat the same? That's so lame. Plus this opens up the opportunity for more questions to be asked and a question as to exactly HOW powerful is this guy. Plus the fact that he doesn't eat normally which is just????????? it would make him seem more interesting and alien and disconnected from the other characters more than he already is plus the implications that he CAN STEAL TIME from anyone in the immediate vicinity. it's less literal body horror but more psychological and existential dread (am I using those words right???) but the horror that he can literally just do this at any time and that he can and has before it's legitimately insane plus the fact that he barely has to even move a finger to do this too. Plus the fact that he's discreetly manipulating chikkn nugget behind the scenes to try and make chikn realize he's a god n stuff I just think it'd fit his motif much better. Because time is so much less of a physical thing and I think bezel represents that. also why are there no bezel "ruler of everything" edits

Emu Egg: dude i have literally no idea what you're talking about