#i’m using the flag i was given in the request what do you want from me here

[puckinghischier]

Cart Girls & Curly Q’s

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: luke has a crush on the cart girl

notes: for once, i feel like i didn’t really struggle while writing luke. this probably isn’t one of my best works, but i loved the idea and i’m so glad i was able to try to bring it to life. hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say yes.” with Luke and maybe a cart girl at the golf club close to the summer lake house?

[3k]

Most of your friends absolutely hate going to work in the summertime. They hate being stuck in an office or storefront all day, no chance to enjoy the high UV and prime lake hours.

You, however, never wake up dreading your work.

During the cold, Michigan winters, you work as a bartender at your college’s local bar. You attend your classes in the morning, do your homework in the afternoon, then clock into your shifts at night. You have the routine down to a science.

During the summers, though, you found a job as the cart girl at the uppity country club closest to the large community of expensive lake houses you drive by every morning.

The tips are amazing, and getting paid to drive around in the sunshine and watch attractive men play golf all day is what you call a small piece of paradise. Not to mention you’re off by five o’clock every day, allowing time to join your friends and family out on the boat for night swims and evening rides.

Today was especially good, with it being one of the hottest days of the summer, your sales were sky high.

You’ve already had to restock your beer cooler three times this morning, and it’s barely even noon.

Your boss has really been pushing the sale of liquor, so you inform every group you pass about your buy a double, get a single shot half off deal, but nothing calls to a man more than a cold beer on a hot golf course.

Many of the men you’ve served today have given you a tip simply because you’re out working in the heat, delivering beers ‘like an angel’ one middle aged man told you, handing you an extra ten.

You just laughed and told him thank you, pocketing the cash. You always loved weekend mornings, locals and vacationers alike all over the course, upping your sales, and as a result, your tips.

As you’re leaving the club house after yet another restock, you see a group of guys that you assumed were around your age.

They were being loud, but not obnoxious, as they piled into two carts and sped their way out to the course, eager to get their game started.

You wondered when you would see them, having been told not to bother people until they’re at least on hole two. Apparently, people get mad when you try to sell them alcohol in the middle of their first stroke.

Making your way around your normal path, you start at hole eight and work your way in a circle until you get back to the clubhouse, the later holes being your big money makers. People are either celebrating their lead or mourning their loss at that point, wanting a drink either way.

You sell a few shots, making your boss happy no doubt, but run out of beers for the fourth time that day around hole sixteen. You stop and offer to each group after that, selling a few more liquor items, but were mostly told to come back when you had beer again.

Flying down the cart path, you see the same group of guys from earlier around hole seven, one out of the group flagging you down as you speed by.

You slow your cart down to a stop and they walk over to meet you, grabbing their wallets from their carts as they approach you.

“Sorry, boys, out of beer. On my way back to the clubhouse now to restock if you want to wait a few,” you tell them once they’re within ear shot, not wanting to get their hopes up.

“Well, do you have anything you can sell us? I’m getting beat pretty bad out here and need a pick me up. Don’t really care what it is,” a brunette pleaded.

You tell him about the shot deals, and he hands you his I.D., requesting a double shot of crown and ginger-ale before turning and asking his cart buddy what he wanted.

“Jack, what do you want?” he calls over to a guy that looked similar to him, thinking to yourself that they could be brothers.

He explains the discount to the other brunette, saying he’s already paid, just to pick what he wanted.

After viewing the second player’s I.D., your brother theory is confirmed by their matching last name.

Jack, you learned, asked for a simple, funnily enough, Jack and coke.

“Alright, gentlemen, anything else I can do for you?” you ask, turning to face the last member of the group.

You make eye contact with a tall, curly-headed boy, noticing the pink tone of his cheeks when you catch him staring at you.

“Anything for you, curly Q?” you ask him, taking note of how attractive he was. You always play up the flirting a little when you find a player on the course attractive, figuring it’ll help your sales while simultaneously allowing you to have a little fun.

His cheeks turn an ever-deeper shade of red when he realizes you’re talking to him, freezing up and averting his eyes. You feel a little bad for putting him on the spot, but you find his shyness endearing.

“Nah, Lukey here isn’t old enough, is he Quinny? Still got a few months till you can drink with the big bros. Isn’t that right, Luke?” the brunette named Jack slaps who you’ve now learned is Luke on the back.

You let out a chuckle, witnessing the deadly glare Luke shoots at his older brother.

“Don’t worry, they picked a cart girl that isn’t even old enough to drink, either. Won’t be able to drink the concoctions I make until next spring,” you tell him, hoping to alleviate a little of the embarrassment you caused him.

“Oh, wow,” is all he utters out, bringing out another laugh from you.

“Alright, well, I’ll let you boys get back to your game,” you tell them, walking back over to get back into your cart.

You ride off, thinking of the tall, curly brunette the whole time.

Three hours later, you’re tending the clubhouse bar.

When you came back in for restock, your boss told you it was too hot for you to keep your role as cart girl all day, insisting you switch out with one of your coworkers.

You weren’t too upset with the trade off, now in air conditioning but still getting tips from buzzed players after their game, either nursing their loss or celebrating their win.

The clubhouse gets busier as the day goes on, people dipping in for a quick cool off after playing eighteen holes in the heat.

“Hey, new body down on the end. Care to get it for me?” your co-tender, Brady, asks you, the two of you working in tandem.

You nod at him as you finish pouring the beer in your hand, walking down to the other end of the bar.

“Hey, player, what can I get for ya?” you ask the stranger, not looking up as you place a coaster in front of the patron.

“Just-Just a water, if you don’t mind,” he asks, slightly stumbling his words.

You look up to see the curly brunette, Luke, from earlier.

“Oh, it’s you. Curly Q,” you say, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice.

“Name’s Luke, actually,” he tells you, the redness from earlier returning to his cheeks.

“Yeah, I remember. Just think Curly Q fits you better,” you smirk at him, placing the glass full of water on his coaster. “I’m Y/N.”

He mumbles a small thanks, taking a sip from the glass.

“Anything else I can get for you?” you ask him, glancing down the bar to see if any new customers have sat down.

He stares at you, his eyes caught like a deer in headlights.

You wait patiently for an answer, letting out a small giggle when he just continues to stare at you.

“Alright, well I’ll let you think about your answer and be right back,” you laugh as you start to walk away.

“Wait!” Luke startles you, stopping you in your tracks. “Uhh..do you…come here often?” he stutters out, closing his eyes tightly in embarrassment as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Your eyes shine at him with amusement. “Well, I work here, so I think I’d have to say yes,” you respond, smiling.

Luke peeks one eye open at you, seeing your amused expression and sighing, letting his body sag.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I asked that,” he runs his hand through his curls nervously.

You rest your arms on the bar in front of you. “Ehh, don’t worry about it,” you tell him, scrunching your nose as you shake your head.

Luke gives you a nervous smile, sliding his water towards his body and running his finger around the rim of the glass.

“I’m sure you talk to all kinds of idiots like me when you’re serving drinks, huh?” he asks, making your face fall a bit at his defeated tone.

You stand a little straighter. “Nah, not really. Most of the idiots I talk to are just old and creepy, not my age and charming,” you tell him, finally earning a laugh from him.

His laugh was more of an amused scoff, but you already want to see the shy smile that makes its way onto his face afterwards, again.

“Yeah, cause a guy that asks you if you come to your job often is the epitome of charming,” he looks up at you.

“Well, it’s kept me here talking to you so far, hasn’t it?”

Luke blushes, making you think the man in front of you is unable to go two minutes without his face turning red.

“Yeah, I guess it has,” he casts his eyes towards his lap.

“So, Luke, you a local or here on vacation?” you ask him, glancing down at the quickly clearing stools. You know Brady is getting all of your tips right now, but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot.

“Well, a little bit of both. Technically on vacation because I live in New Jersey now, but my parents have owned a lake house here since I was a kid, so I claim the title of a local,” you finally get him to loosen up a little, his body language relaxing. “Plus I went to U of M for a little while, so I’ve spent quite a bit of time over in Ann Arbor.”

“Ahh, a city boy,” you tease, grabbing a glass to wipe down, making it look like you’re at least partially doing your job. “Why’d you leave Ann Arbor?”

“Got a…uh…job offer in Jersey,” he tells you cryptically, eyes darting around the room.

“‘A uh…job offer?’ What are you, in the mafia?” you ask him, mimicking his words and poking fun at his nervousness at telling you about his job.

“Well, not quite,” he starts, laughing a real laugh this time, causing you to mentally record the sound and store it in your brain. “I…ahhh…I play hockey up there.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Like, professionally?”

He sinks back into his seat, looking like he wants to hide.

“Yeah. For the New Jersey Devils. My brother, Jack plays for them, too,” He tries to pass some of the attention off of himself.

“Wait, you and your brother both play in the NHL?” the impressed tone of your voice gives Luke a little boost of confidence.

“Well, both of my brothers, actually. But Quinn plays for the Canucks up in Vancouver. Jack and I are both in Jersey, though.”

You let your mouth hang open at him, not being able to hide your shock.

This earns another laugh from Luke.

“What kind of superhuman DNA do your parents possess?” you ask him.

“Not sure. We’re still being studied as we speak,” Luke leans closer, whispering like he’s telling you a secret. “The big wigs in the NHL haven’t found out yet that they grew us in test tubes in their basement.”

You let out a laugh so loud that you gain the attention of several men on the other end of the bar, slapping your hand over your mouth.

Luke leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face as he sees your embarrassed expression.

“Hey, Y/N, you gonna come help me do your job or what?” you hear Brady yell, annoyed that he’s been working the whole bar alone for the past ten minutes.

You roll your eyes while still facing Luke, removing your hand from your mouth and turning your head to respond. “Yeah, don’t get your club all bent, I’ll be right there.”

Luke’s still smiling at you when you turn back to face him.

“Guess that’s my cue to get back to my job and quit talking to cute boys sitting at the bar, huh?” you spew, realizing what you just said a second too late.

Luke’s eyebrows shoot up, his back straightening in surprise.

You pause all movements, staring at Luke.

“Uhh…anyways, gotta go do my job. Y’know, the thing I come around often for?” you make a call back to Luke’s attempt at a line earlier, hoping it take some of the attention off of what you just said.

Luke chuckles at you. “Yeah, I need to go meet back up with my fellow lab rats, anyways,” he tells you, reaching for his wallet, placing a twenty down on the bar.

“You do realize water is free, right?” you tell him, sliding the bill back to him.

“Yeah. Figured I’d try to make up for the tips I caused you to lose, though,” he shrugs his shoulders, standing from his chair.

“Nope, I’m not taking your money. Feels like you’re just paying me for talking to you,” you tell him, holding the money out towards him and shaking it around, trying to make him take it.

Luke shakes his head at your stubbornness. “C’mon, just take it. Your coworker collected all kinds of tips while you were over here.”

“Nope,” you shake your head, leaning over and grabbing Luke’s arm, placing the money in his hand.

“I need to do something, though. I feel bad causing you to lose out on money that should’ve been yours,” he insists.

“Well, I guess I’ll let you make it up to me,” you start, watching him try to lay the money down again and shooting your arm out, preventing him from doing so. “By giving me your number,” you decide to be bold.

Luke goes still. “Uhh, y-yeah. Sure,” he snaps out of his momentary freeze, fumbling for his phone, handing it over to you.

You put your number in his phone, sending yourself a text before handing it back with a wink.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Luke asks, pushing his stool in.

You nod your head yes, turning to go back to your job duties.

You turn back around after you take a few steps, seeing Luke walking away with his back turned.

“Hey, Curly Q!” you call after him, causing him to turn to look at you. “I get off at five, in case you were wondering,” you shout towards him, flashing a smirk before you walk away.

Luke smiles and shakes his head, making his way towards the other side of the clubhouse.

You watch his figure as he moves across the room, stopping to make small talk with a man, shaking his head before joining his brothers at a small table on the restaurant side of the clubhouse, picking up his menu and browsing the food selection.

You smile to yourself and go back to stacking glasses.

As you’re transferring a new stack of clean glasses to the cooler under the bar, you hear someone call your name from above you.

You stand, rattling off your typical greeting to the new customer.

“Someone named Luke asked me to give this to you,” he tells you, handing you the same twenty-dollar bill Luke had tried to hand you a few minutes prior.

You pick up the bill as the stranger walks away, looking down at it before raising your head and looking for the curly headed culprit.

You meet Luke’s eye, raising a brow at him while lifting the paper money, pointing at it.

Luke shrugs his shoulders and grins from across the room.

Months later, when you’re attending your first ever Devils game in support of your newly titled boyfriend, you watch him skate out on the ice for warm ups, making a bee-line to the seat he provided for you.

He looks at you in his Jersey, a sight he pictured from the moment he first saw you on the golf course last summer, wondering how he managed to impress the pretty cart girl he embarrassed himself with, what feels like so long ago.

Your smile took up your entire face as you waved at him, excited to finally see him play in person. He smiles back, pointing down to the ground, asking if you wanted a puck.

You nodded your head yes, watching him pick up a puck and take the cover off of a small cut out in the plexiglass separating the two of you.

When he slides the puck through the hand sized hole, you grab onto his glove, replacing the puck with a piece of paper before pushing his hand back towards him.

He looks down at his hand, confusion written all over his face. He opens his glove, looking down at his hand, his head snapping up to look at you once he realizes what you had done.

“There’s your tip, hot shot!” you shout at him through the glass, smiling in amusement, seeing the same twenty-dollar bill from the first day you met him resting in his red glove, never imagining that the nervous, bumbling boy sitting in front of you at the bar that day would make you feel like the luckiest girl in all of Michigan, and now New Jersey.

[propertyofwicked]

STARE - LN

based on this request ✧ my inbox is open for requests (or if u just want a chat!) ✧

warnings - smut! MDNI!! unprotected, praising, sorta soft!dom, co-workers to lovers??? not proof read

masterlist the playlist

the energy of the mclaren garage was palpable, with engineers and mechanics scurrying around, ensuring everything was perfect for race day. y/n had been working with mclaren for a couple of years now, her role integral to the smooth running of race weekends. but today, something was different.

in honouring the master of monaco, ayrton senna, the two drivers had been given race suits that showed tribute. yellow and green suits that screamed heritage, elegance, and - in y/n’s opinion - undeniable charisma. both drivers looked good, they always did, but every time y/n caught a glimpse of lando, time seemed to slow. he looked every bit the part, embodying the spirit of senna effortlessly.

she couldn’t help but stare, her eyes seemingly glued to his form as he interacted with the team, each glance lingering a little too long. maybe he caught her a few times, heat rising her cheeks every time she quickly averted her eyes. maybe he hadn’t even noticed her, though had she not been so eager to hide her face, she would’ve seen the way he smirked to himself.

lando felt smug.

the race was typical for monaco, aside from the first-lap crash. oscar finishing P2 was significant for the team and for him, marking his best finish of the season so far. after the chequered flag waved and the celebrations began, y/n tried to busy herself with post-race duties, wrapping up some paperwork in hospitality whilst the rest of the team fulfilled media duties and packing away equipment.

or at least she tried. the room seemed to be filled with tv screens, all displaying lando’s post race interviews, hand on his hip, sweaty curls and a boyish grin. y/n was distracted, trying to avoid looking at the screens for too long, but she couldn’t help but let her mind wander at the sight of his black fireproofs clinging tightly to his frame - she was just a girl, after all.

“so,” lando began, smirking as his eyes sparkled with mischief, “you think i look good in the senna suit, huh?”

her heart skipped a beat, and her whole body jumped, not expecting lando to be stood directly behind her, his hands resting on the back of her chair.

“what? no! i-i mean, yes, but –” she stammered, “paperwork,” she added, unable to form any sort of coherent sentence. he chuckled teasingly, though his smirk grew more smug as he noticed her cheeks going red and her hand shooting up to play with her necklace.

“i saw you looking at me. a lot. couldn’t help but notice.”

“i wasn’t – i mean, i was just –” y/n stuttered, trying to regain some composure as he leant down, using the chair to support him as his head dropped to rest closer to hers. she refused to make eye contact.

“it’s okay, you know. i’m flattered,” he muttered, glancing around to ensure no one was in earshot before continuing, “but if you keep looking at me like that, i might start to think you’re more interested in what’s under the suit.”

“lando, i...” she choked out, finally turning her head to face him. he was grinning, his mouth curling into that cocky, confident grin that she had seen too many times - but this time it was directed at her, and y/n was enthralled.

“how about we discuss this further in my driver’s room? less chance of interruptions,” lando told her, his tone leaving no room for an argument, though it wasn’t as if she was going to refuse. his eyes flicked around the room once more, before grabbing her wrist to tug her along behind him. once inside the room, he closed the door behind them, the small space suddenly feeling much more intimate.

“so,” he said again, turning to face y/n, “you think i look good, huh?”

“yes, i do. very good,” she told him, suddenly deciding to put on a brave face. his smirk softened into a genuine smile.

“good to know. because i think you look pretty good too,” lando replied, stepping closer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, “especially in that skirt you wore a few weeks ago.”

she looked at him puzzled for a moment, she knew exactly which skirt he meant, but how did he? how had he noticed her enough to remember what she was wearing?

“how did yo-”

“at least when i stare at you, i don’t make it obvious angel,” lando grinned, before dropping his head to press a kiss to her lips quickly, almost hesitantly at first. she kissed him back quickly, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hand moved to cup her jaw, the other settling on her waist. his hand pushed her head back, allowing him better access as he deepened the kiss, all whilst moving the two of them towards the sofa.

“it wasn’t that obvious,” she retorted in defence, pulling away from his lips quickly to catch her breath.

“it was,” lando replied, shifting the two of them so that he fell comfortably on the sofa, her landing on his lap, “even oscar noticed.”

“shut up?” she replied, tucking her face into his neck to hide her embarrassment, but trailing kisses down his skin.

“make me?” he replied, matching her tone as she nipped at his skin lightly, “good thing i’ve finished media for the day, isn’t it?”

“sorry - i didn’t mean t-” she started, pulling back to look at the red mark forming on his neck, but found herself interrupted by the shake of his head.

“i’d say do it again, but we have…20 minutes until everyone needs to leave,” lando told her reassuringly, his fingers gripping at her hips as his fingers rubbed harsh circles into her skin. her grips rolled into his, as if instinctually, whilst he moved back to kiss her, harsher than before.

“as much as you like this suit, it’s about time i take it off - don’t you think?” he asked, watching as she nodded quickly, her hands moving to the zipper. her hips rose momentarily to help him strip down, a pile of his clothes forming on the floor next to the two until he was left in just his boxers, her in equally as little clothing.

“lace?” lando asked, smiling up at her, his fingers trailing the hem of her underwear teasingly, “id ask if this was for me but there’s no way you could’ve seen this coming.”

“no, id say you were right,” she shrugged, her hand moving to grip his cock through the fabric, “i like to come prepared.”

“and ‘come you will,” he joked, which she couldn’t help but smile at despite the intimacy.

lando pushed a rugged finger past her panties, moving the fabric aside as two fingers slid through her folds, circling her clit a few times. he looked at her face, watching how she reacted to him. her mouth had opened slightly, already feeling pleasure from the anticipation, but it widened as the two fingers pushed into her, stretching her out around him. her hand was still working up and down his clothed length, thumb finding his tip as his precum leaked through the fabric of his boxers.

“did you say 20 minutes?” y/n suddenly asked him, her eyes widening at the realisation.

“i did,” he nodded, stuttering slightly as her hand pulled at his waistband.

“have we got time?”

“from the way you’re working yourself on my fingers, id say we have time to finish this, get dressed and be back at mine with 5 minutes to spare,” he exaggerated slightly, though continued twisting his fingers into her, engulfed in the way she rolled her hips into him as her walls tightened around him.

though lando didn’t give her time to get embarrassed about how quickly she was coming undone for him, before his fingers moved away from her. she whined slowly at the loss of contact, but lando ignored her, moving to take his fingers in his mouth, tasting her on his tongue.

“so good,” he muttered. he grabbed her face harshly, kissing her again so that y/n could taste herself, his hips lifting from the sofa to free himself completely. her hand resumed it’s ministrations, thumb resuming a circling motion on his tip. lando found himself distracted the moment her fingers dragged precum down his cock, following the patterns of veins that spread across his length.

“fuck,” he mumbled, the two of them trying to stay quiet as footsteps could be heard from outside his door, “need you now.”

y/n raised herself up on her knees quickly, lando’s hand on her waist guiding her towards him. his free hand gripped at the base of his cock, tracing it through her folds quickly and lining up with her entrance. the hand on her waist pushed her down slowly, helping to lower herself on him.

“big,” she whined, unable to form a full sentence, her head dropping to rest on lando’s shoulder as she sunk down further.

“thanks,” he laughed out, though the action made his body move causing y/n to slip, taking the rest of his length in all at once.

“fuck,” y/n mewled, nipping at the flesh of lando’s shoulder quickly to distract her from the stretch.

“you’re fine, you’re ok,” he reassured her, his voice soft despite him fighting the urge to thrust up into her.

she nodded into him quickly as her hips began to roll into him, feeling the way his length filled her. small grunts and incoherent mumbles from lando urged her to move more, so she raised her hips slowly before dropping back down over and over again until she settled on a good pace. lando’s fingers dug into her hip, barely guiding her movement whilst his fingers left bruises in his wake.

“wanna see you,” he told her, a hand pushing her shoulder back to look at her face. the new position awoke something in her, the angle sending her into overdrive as she used him to get herself off.

“and these…” lando added, moving to grip her breast in one hand, neck straining to take the other in his mouth.

“fuck, lan- fuck,” y/n uttered, feeling the way his tongue flicked at her nipple quickly before moving to nip and suck at the surrounding flesh. her chest was littered in red marks, sure to form into a constellation of bruises that would adorn her skin for weeks.

“taking me so good baby,” he told her, feeling the slowing of her pace with her legs growing tired, “you need me to help?”

she looked at him intently, before nodding. lando’s eyelids were half closed, but she could still see the way his pupils were blown with lust - he groaned deeply as she came to a stop, returning to rolling her hips into him instead.

“need to hear you say it,” lando insisted, his fingers trailing circular patterns up her thighs before settling on her clit. he felt her tense around him, the rolling of her hips coating his length in her slick as shoots of icy pleasure seemed to move directly from his fingertips to her brain.

“please, lando.”

“please what? what do you need, baby?” he teased, his own hips beginning to slowly jut up into her.

“need you t-to take over,” y/n stammered, gripping at lando’s shoulders tightly, “please.”

as much as he wanted to hear her beg, the way she had whimpered the word please was enough for him to pull her into a tight embrace, her legs anchoring around his back before he started thrusting himself into her at a brutal pace. oh how she prayed no one was stood nearby at this very moment, as all they would hear was the distant sound of skin slapping against each other, slightly muffled by the two of them panting.

“so responsive,” lando praised her, slowing slightly to sneak a hand between the two of them, fingers finding her clit once more, “fit me so well. like you were made f’me,” he grunted.

y/n’s mind had gone blank as lando mindlessly praised her, he himself unable to think about anything else.

“you gonna cum f’me?” he cooed, feeling the way she began to claw at his back, raking her nails into his skin and she grinded her hips into him, matching his pace.

“mhm,” she muttered out, her lips returning to his in a heat kiss - the type of kiss that overall had too much tongue and too much teeth but fit the haste of the moment so perfectly.

“go on then,” he prompted, “show me how good i make you feel.”

y/n didn’t respond verbally, she couldn’t. no, instead she came hard and fast, letting lando grip at her hips to hold her down harshly so that his length stayed deep inside of her.

“fuck me,” she panted out, though tried to keep the rolling motions of her hips to bring lando to his own finish.

“so good to me,” he grunted, taking in the sight in front of him, “you feel so good,” he added, barely able to utter another word before he was pulling her off him, ropes of cum shooting onto his stomach as she hovered over him.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she told him after a few moments of silence with lando catching his breath, “im on the pill anyway.”

“i didn’t think,” he told her, laughing lightly as she clambered off his lap, searching for her clothes, “now i know for next time.”

“next time?”

“yes, next time,” he doubled down, “trust me, ive wanted this for months. and now i’ve had you, i don’t think i want anyone else.”

heat rose to her cheeks again - she’d hoped this wasn’t a one time thing, but she was now blushing at the thought of it being a regular occurrence.

“tonight?” she asked him, cautiously.

“eager?” he teased.

“sorry i-” y/n started to apologise, stuttering slightly in her nervousness.

“y/n - tonight, tomorrow night, next week. my schedule is clear, for you.”

[rushtoprove]

to deceive a prince

pairing: aemond targaryen x f!reader rating: general audiences word count: 6k+ summary: when aemond targaryen shows interest in courting your little sister, she employs your help to capture his attention through sharing letters and notes, all the while acting as if you are her. it was never meant to become so complicated. warnings: medieval catfishing? rom-com vibes. a little bit of fluff because my masterlist was getting to angsty so i needed something to lighten it up. catfishing bad in real life obviously. This has been flagged as mature by the tumblr gods but i promise it’s not.

“Please!” You wanted to curse your sister. Could she not see you were enjoying the peace of the gardens? That you were content simply reading beneath the oak tree that kept you hidden from the surrounding courtiers? Why did she need to pester you with such idiotic conversation? 

“Repeat it again?” You were in disbelief at what your younger sister had just requested of you, but her excitement rendered her oblivious to the discomfort. 

“Prince Aemond requested me as a dance partner at the ball last night and now I am in love! But I woke up to this letter beneath my door and I do not know how to reply! Or what some of the words mean. He was so sullen with me last night that I thought he must have hated me so. But he likes me!” She spun around in childish glee, ignoring your widened eyes and cruel laughter. 

“So, you want me to write back to him? As you? This morning did you not call him a tedious bore? You said you regretted wasting a dance on him, if I recall correctly?” 

“Yes, yes, I know! I was too devastated that he did not like me, so I had no choice but to mask my despair. I know you understand what I’m asking for, I do not know why this is the fourth time you want me to repeat it you obviously know what I’m talking about!” 

“Tell me one more time for good luck.” You could help but play with Mariyanna now, enjoying her desperation. You both had only just been sent to attend court three days ago, but it was no surprise to you that she would catch a suitor’s eye so quick. Even if it was the sullen prince with an ill temperament that many had warned you to take care around. 

“Stop! Please sister, please!?” 

“Many say he is a cruel man little Anna. Heartless even. Hell bent on revenge from years ago. And that he does not smile or laugh. I’m surprised he danced.” You sighed as you lowered your book and finally gave your attention to her. She was three years your junior, but you often treated her as a baby. She let her knees sink to the cold earth so that you both sat facing each other and Mariyanna clasped your hands together tightly. 

“His mother requested he dance so he could begin trying to find a suitable wife. Apparently, he won’t accept anything his family suggest so he is being given the freedom to choose. As long as she is suitable enough to join their family.” 

“He told you all this?” 

“No, his brother Aegon told me after he saw us dance for the second time.” 

“The drunk?” 

“Hush sister. But yes... that one. You would know all this if you attended!” She tried to glare at you in disappointment, but her smile was uncontainable. She was truly getting swept up in a fantasy that was created less than a day ago. You rolled your eyes at her comment before lifting your book back up. 

“You are a fool little sister.” 

“Imagine it though! Me! Marrying a prince and becoming a princess! I think I would fit well into that duty.” Her eyes glazed over as she imagined her possible future, but once she returned to reality, and quickly returned to begging. You groaned as your book was covered by the letter Prince Aemond had slid beneath her door, turning your nose up at the courting language. It was infected with imagery of nature and copious amounts of sentences comparing sweet Mariyanna to different flowers. You moaned in discomfort. 

“PLEASE!?” She cried. You did not want to. You loathed the idea. But you were always ready to do whatever your sister required, so with a sigh you wrote a letter in return. She complained it was not filled with enough declarations and promises of love and duty, but you simply waved her away. 

“You do not want to seem desperate for him. He will think you are only after his title.” And like always, your sister followed whatever you said. After that she sat wide-eyed as you quickly wrote down little sentences that quietly asked to be answered. You made small jokes about their previous night as you listened to your sister retell every moment in detail. The moment it was finished she bounced up quickly and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.  

“I love you!” You had no time to reply before she spun on heel and raced up the grass hill, desperate to find a maid to deliver the letter. 

“That’s the only time Mariyanna!” You called out after her, but she was already gone. 

+++ 

It was only a day later that your little sister had come running back with a letter grasped tightly in her grip. This time she was interrupting your alone time in the library. 

“He replied!” She squealed before shoving you along the stone bench to sit beside you. You thanked the gods no one ever seemed to come to this part of the castle, as they much preferred the newly renovated library across the other side of the red keep. She gave no time for you to reply before it was shoved into your face. 

Mariyanna, 

I must apologize as there has been a mistake. I did not send any letter to you after our dances. I believe my mother has taken it upon myself to incite conversation between us. However, I quite enjoyed your reply, and I would like to talk more this evening. Please do me the pleasure of accompany me on a walk along the grounds. 

Prince Aemond 

“My letter has captured him! Can you believe it!? A prince!” You almost laughed at her. Almost.  

“Why are you here and not racing down to find him?” 

“I do not know what to talk about I need some tips. I know he studies philosophy and he read many books according to Lady Ariyanna. I need you to give me some talking points!” She begged. 

“You want talking points on books you’ve never read? Little Anna I am sure you must simply be yourself and he will fall in love with you. Do not mould yourself into something you are not. He would be a fool not to be enticed instantly for your charm and beauty.” You brushed a strand of hair from her face and smiled at the delight that had consumed her entire being. 

“I know! And I won’t! I just need some extra wit. I need your brains. You are the most intelligent person I know. Just this once. Afterwards I shall use my own letters and interests.” You sat staring at one another for a second before you simply sighed. 

“Fine.” 

You had one hour to drill small jests and facts about your favourite books. You discussed quickly about Ten Thousand Ships and the journey Nymeria faced in her battle to be Queen. You kept it short and simply, but hoped it was enough for her to act out her silly little infatuation with the young prince. For your sister’s sake.   She could not sit still from the nerves of what was to come, and you swore there was no way she would recall everything. It felt she was hardly listening, but your sister was treating the whole thing quite seriously.  

When she left you, you moved to gaze out from the window and looked down to the gardens below. You had the perfect view of your nervous sister. She was cautious as she moved towards the looming figure of the prince, his arms crossed behind his back and his posture standing tall. He was looking upon the oak tree you had sat yesterday but turned as he realised your sister had crept forth. They bowed, and you imagined they greeted each other, before beginning the boring small talk that comes with meeting someone new. But when you saw your sister begin laughing, and his arm move to offer itself to her, you knew your tips had paid off.  

Moving away with a sigh, you returned to your book. 

That was all you would do for their courtship now. 

+++ 

You don’t know how your sister did it, but letter upon letter you had exchanged with Prince Aemond over the last few months. It quickly became easier than breathing. His interests were the same as yours, and his humour yours too. The books he suggested kept you enticed to the very last page, and he wrote that your recommendations happened to do the very same. You found him charming, however not overbearing, and you quickly realised you had dug yourself the deepest grave. You had never loved anyone.  

Until now. 

“Mention how I enjoyed his thoughts on Lies of the Ancients! Oh, and that I have come to agree the Starks made up all their stories to look really powerful!” You looked at your sister, disturbed by her ridiculous take.  

“I will not write that.” You muttered. You don’t remember how she coerced you in to writing this letter, yet here you were, scribbling stupid quips and more enticing conversation starter. 

“It was what Aemond told me. It will show I was listening!” 

“Mary, he is playing with you. No one regards Archmaester Fomas’s writing as anything more than an old man raving his madness to the masses. If he brought it up, I believe... well, I believe he was making a joke.” You grimaced at your sister, trying hard not to imagine her nodding along to Aemond Targaryen’s dry humour. 

“Oh.” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay, well write that I thought it was a funny jest.” She leaned her weight on to your back to get a full view of the stupid letter. You groaned beneath her with a huff but decided that you would mention that you knew he was jesting with his thoughts. You did not want your sister to come off as a halfwit. Or perhaps it was that you did not want him to think you a halfwit. 

“There. Mariyanna, I truly mean it when I say this is the last time, I shall do this. It does not feel right to mislead Prince Aemond.” You pushed the letter away in defeat for her to sign, which she happily scribbled on. You heart ached from the entire ordeal. At night you found yourself craving the idea of Aemond finding out the truth, but you also resented the idea of your sister being left broken. She brought the letter to her lips and placed a small kiss to the corner of it, leaving her lip paint to stain the very edge.  

“I know. I just don’t want to lose his attention. He is so tall and strong and princely. If it is not me who mothers his children, I do not know how I shall survive.” Her giggling was infectious, and you thought you hoped her happiness would never fade. So much so, you knew you were willing to give up your own for your sweet little sister.  

“Just... be careful little Anna. I worry you have fallen too deep into something that could implode in any moment.” You hoped she would heed your warning, but the youthfulness glee did not fade from her eyes, leaving you in doubt that she had even heard.   Her snickering suddenly came to a stop when the sound of the libraries grand door clicked open. You cursed inwardly, how many people were to invade the only peaceful part of the whole keep? She eyed you uncertainly and you quickly shrugged back in panicked confusion. She shrugged back at you even harder making you roll your eyes and point for her to see who had entered.  

“Why me?” She mouthed. You rolled your eyes and shoved her off her chair, leaving her no choice to silently toe towards the edge of the bookcase. Leaned forward in anticipation, you almost cried out in fright as she swung around in panic.  

“What!?” You hissed, bouncing to your feet in fear of whatever danger had entered. She quickly began shooing you away with her hands and began tidying the desk you had left sprawled with your readings. 

“Go!” She mouthed silently at you again. You angrily threw your hands up in frustration at her choice not to answer, but the sound of man clearing his throat halted your every movement. 

“My ears may deceive me, but I thought I heard your laughter, Lady Mariyanna.” Your jaw opened and closed in shock before you desperately began waving to your sister. 

“Not here!” You quietly begged her. You did not want to see. You did not need the image of him staring upon your sister and whispering in her ear. You wanted to preserve what you had with him in your stupid letters.  

“What do I do!? Why do I say I was in here for?” She grasped your shoulder and pulled you into her, shaking you for an answer. Stumbling in disbelief, you shook your head. You were both rattled by this turn of events, but you still could think unlike your sister. 

“Fucking reading you idiot!” You hissed, making her almost slap her forehead. 

“Right? Fuck what book?” She haphazardly began spinning on her spot, and you both desperately tried to find a book. 

“Let me come and find you, my prince!” She cried out in fake delight before staring at you franticly. You both shrugged violently at each other and began glaring in alarm.  

“You must leave. I will not be able to hide here long.” The sound of footsteps grew closer, leaving your sister no choice but to shove you away. 

“No need. Who I am to draw you away from your readings?” The voice called out. You stilled for a second over the calmness of his voice. 

“I’ll just read what you were reading.” She was alarmed by how close he was and quickly gave up the effort of finding a book. 

“No!” You cried out quietly as you stumbled behind the bookcase. She ignored your cry and left you to crouch down out of sight, biting your knuckle in shame for what was about to happen. You were secluded enough behind the shelves that you were hidden from the great Aemond Targaryen, but you found you had a perfect view of the meeting. You watched in trepidation as he slowly stepped to the table that your sister had managed to gracefully sit at, after she had calmed herself from the madness that had taken over you both. 

“My lady.” He bowed before her, leaving her nothing more than a blushing mess. If you had not have been in the clutches of utter panic at your precarious position, you would have rolled your eyes at her folly. 

“Prince Aemond. I did not expect you!” She was flustered by his towering figure leaning over her, and quickly moved to stand, but he gently lay a hand on her shoulder to keep her sitting comfortably before him. Breathing in deeply, he let his eye rake over the shelves making you quickly duck away from his gaze. It was a surprise your beating heart did not give you away for you swore every person in the kingdom could hear it. 

“No need for such formalities. It is I who has intruded upon your time; therefore, it is I who should be paying you the respect you deserve.” His tone did not match the sentiment as you had never heard such an unwavering, and proper speech come from any man in the court. No one could deny the authority that seeped from his very being, nor the power he held in his mere stance. Something quivered inside you at the sight of him, but it was in the most delicious way possible.  

“I do not consider it an intrusion my prince. I am always grateful for your company.” Mariyanna squeaked out, her face the deepest shade of pink you had ever seen. You wondered how she had managed to converse with him this far? 

“Please, you know I wish for you to call me Aemond.” The corner of his lip seemed to move upwards, and you wondered if that was his idea of a smile. Gazing upon his face, you found yourself struck by just how handsome the prince was. You had heard him to be described as frightening and dangerous, but no one had mentioned how sharp his jaw was. Your sister had informed you that his face simple, but pretty enough, and you felt the need to wring out her neck right then and there. How could she be so blind? 

“Yes, my prince.” Anna sighed out dreamily and this time not even the panic of the situation could stop you from rolling your eyes. 

“Are you enjoying your book?” Aemond enquired, reaching down and bringing the cover to his face. Your sister was too busy in her own realm of glee to notice the way his remaining eye widened in shock. You inwardly groaned. 

“Oh yes! I am learning so much! I really think it one of the greatest books ever written.” Your sister tried to feign interest, placing her chin upon her hand and smiling up at Aemond. You had groaned even louder in your head. It was a shock when Aemond let out a breathless chuckle. 

“Well... you continue to surprise me. Perhaps you shall have to tell me what you learn by the end." You could not blame Aemond for thinking your sister was being flirtatious because the book you had been reading was A Caution for Young Girls, a book banned from most libraries in the seven kingdoms for its erotica and sinfulness. It was infamous, so when it was passed back to your sister to look upon, even she knew what the novel was about. 

“Oh god no! Not me!” She cried out in shock before throwing it across the library franticly. She quickly began spewing out apologies for presenting such an ungodly object before Aemond, while he simply looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. 

“You do not need to worry. I shall not disclose it to anyone.” He tried to jest but it simply made her more frantic. 

“I’m sorry you see? It was my sister! She must always make sure she partakes in the most unproper things to displease my father. see? It was my sister! She must always make sure she partakes in the most unproper things to displease my father.” You did not miss the way she hissed, knowing fully well that she intended you to hear her anger. You flinched into yourself, mortified that the prince would now think you a sexual deviant before you were to even become acquainted. You had only wanted to know what all the fuss was about.  

“You have never mentioned a sister?” Perhaps Aemond was trying to defuse your sister’s panic, but the statement tugged at your heart hard. How had your sister not thought to mention you after all these meetings over these past few months. 

“Yes... well... she doesn’t leave her room much, you see? She, well everyone thinks she is quite simple.” The tug was so harsh you felt your entire heart shatter inside your ribcage. As if she heard, Mariyanna looked apologetically towards where you were hidden. Aemond was gazing solemnly out the window so you simply took the opportunity to make sure she could see the way your lifter your middle finger in her direction. 

“Cunt.” You mumbled, before quickly ducking once more as Aemond turned.  

“I understand. My brother is the simplest person in the entire seven kingdoms. It seems we have much in common.” This time he finally did smile down at your sister, who in return, linked her arms tightly in his. 

“Well at least we have each other to keep company.” She gazed up at Aemond from beneath her eyelashes, and you didn’t miss the way his eye softened.  

“I came here for a reason, actually.” He muttered; his gaze unbroken from hers. He frowned as she quickly moved her gaze to anywhere but his scarred skin that was hidden beneath his eye patch but continued anyways. “I wished to invite you to dinner with my siblings tonight. I would like to introduce you to my sister Heleana and younger brother Daeron. Unfortunately, Aegon will also be attending but perhaps you can invite your brainless sister to entertain him.” His description left you heart squeezed, drained of every drop of happiness and leaving it to bleed through his tight grasp. 

“She will be there. I’ll make sure of it. Now come, let us wonder the gardens! It is a beautiful day outside! Much too beautiful to be cooped up in here. It’s so dusty.” Your sister danced away merrily, happy to have succeeded in diverting away from a disastrous interaction. You swore you heard Aemond follow, so with a huff you stood straight and began stretching out your cramped limbs. When you gazed at the door, however, you saw him lingering, playing with the note you had written for him only moments ago. You watched the soft chuckle as he read it, and the way his demeanour seemed to lighten.  

“Continuing to surprise me.” He huffed, before slowly bringing the edge of it to his lips. The act was intimate, much to intimate for you to be gazing on. Stumbling back, you tried to remove yourself, but your skirt knocked down a book from a top its stack, and Aemond swung around in haste. You saw him begin stalking forward to find the source of the noise, making you cover your mouth and bite down hard on your palm.  

“Who goes there?” He whispered, prying his head around the bookcase. If Mariyanna was to renter, she would see Aemond standing above you, the only thing keeping you hidden was the books and cloths hanging over the shelf. You heard him inhale deeply, and for a moment you felt like prey being hunted by an animal. But she never came, and instead she called. 

“My Prince!” Her laughter floated about the room, making Aemond instantly straighten with a huff.  

“Hmmm.” He whispered, before turning and stalking off in her direction. You did not realised your skirt had been in plain view. 

+ 

Shamefully, you agreed to attend the meal with no argument. You would like to sit before Aemond once, even if it was to watch his courtship of your sister. Absolutely shameful. 

“I am happy you joined us, Mariyanna! My brother has talked a lot about you. A lot. Like all the time! Yesterday, I was showing him some art and he said it reminded him of this poem you had suggested he read. Even though he doesn’t like poetry. And, when you said you read that stupid book about ancient people lying, he was so amazed he didn’t shut up about it for a whole week! AND...”  

“Daeron, please, for the love of the gods shut up.” Helaena quipped up, placing a protective hand on Aemond’s sleeve. Daeron giggled mischievously, his childish humour leaving only him amused. The glare Aemond sent his way left him clutching hard at the table trying not to let himself howl out in delight. You were seated beside him, with Aegon boredly picking his teeth in the reflection of his soup spoon on you other side. Helaena was perched across from him but was seated beside her obviously favourite brother Aemond. Mariyanna was seated on his other side. This meant Aemond and yourself were seated directly across from one another, and due to Helaena forcing the dinner to be an intimate event, your legs were almost touching his under the small table. The heat that radiated off him, and the accidently touches of his long legs had you pressing your thighs together as tightly as possible.  

You do not know what possessed you to read that stupid book. 

“Thank you for being kind enough to invite me.” Your sister ducked her head in appreciation, and you quietly sighed as no one paid any mind to you. It was a shock, however, when you raised your gaze and saw Aemond staring upon you, as if analysing your very soul. Without a second thought, you stared at him in the exact same way.  

“Yes, my brother says you love all those stupid books. I’ve been trying to convince my mother to renovate that ancient library in the south corner of the keep and turn it into a theatre for us to watch plays. The commonfolk have some fucking hilarious skits.” Aegon laughed ignorantly, and you watched your sister laugh too. 

“Oh no!” Your words came before your thoughts, and everyone quickly turned to you. You quickly looked at your sister for some support only to see her looking at you in frustration. “My sister loves that library.” You coughed out, and Mariyanna quickly nodded in agreement.  

“It’s filthy. The new one is much nicer.” Aegon pointed out. Mariyanna kept nodding, getting confused with who she should comply with, but you shook your head. 

“It’s too busy. And it censors the books too much.” You muttered falling into your seat to try and hide yourself from the attention. Aemond chuckled at your words, before beginning to tap his fingers a top the table. 

“Yes. I hear you enjoy the restricted section of the library.” He smirked at you, thinking he knew a secret that you didn’t. Led to believe that he was alone in the library with your sister. But you were there, and you understood his words perfectly, leaving you reddened in shame. 

“Oh really? How obscene do you enjoy your novels?” Aegon was suddenly interested as he snaked his arm around your chair and leaned in with a grin. 

“Ugh.” You grunted out in disgust without thinking, leaving Mariyanna gasping in shock. 

“Forgive my sister she...” She was drowned out by the laughter the three siblings shared at the treatment of their brother. 

“Move away from her Aegon.” Aemond sighed. Aegon sighed in mock defeat, before turning his attention to swirling his wine. Looking away, you tried to turn your attention to your sister, but was caught by Aemond’s gaze once more. 

“You do not come to any of my mother’s dances, am I right?” Shifting nervously, you quickly shook your head. 

“I find my sister is much better at those types of things. I like to live through her little stories.” He hummed at your reply, before drawing his goblet to his lips. 

“And what do you do in your spare time? Write?” Your sister and you stared panicked at one another, before you quickly shook your head. Helaena stared confused at the three of your, but Aemond simply looked at you. Nowhere else. His eye was on you. 

“Not me.” The squeak of your voice mimicked that of your sister’s fluster under his gaze. Mariyanna was biting down hard on her lip, willing herself not to cry. She thought it obvious you had been caught. 

“I just noticed the ink stains on your fingers. It was a simple assumption.” You quickly hid your fingers in the sleeve of your gown and tried to think up an excuse. But everything thought seemed to evade you.  

“Not me.” You repeated quietly. The room fell silent for a moment, everyone staring between yourself and Aemond, but then you found yourself saved by the servants. The doors swung open as they swarmed in, carrying different trays of food and began arranging your feast on the small table. You quickly looked at your sister who widened her eyes in question. You simply widened your eyes back. You also did not understand what was happening.  

“I have been so hungry this whole time.” Daeron moaned as he began piling his plate with potato's. Everyone moved to reach for a dish, so you quickly reached for the spoon that was within the soup dish. It also happened to be the dish Aemond reached for leaving you both grasping onto the tips of each other's fingers instead of the spoon. You quickly pulled back and cradled your hand with widened eyes. The touch had sent a sensation down your entire being, even all the way to your toes, leaving you with no choice but to curl them up inside your slippers.  

“Apologies.” You choked out, looking down shamefully. You cursed yourself in embarrassment, declaring to yourself that he really will think you simple and brainless at the end of this dinner. He simply hummed at your regret, before lifting your bowl towards him. Without a word, he poured you a serving before returning it to you. No words were spoken as you nodded in appreciation.  

+++  

The dinner had gone smoothly after that. Perhaps smoothly wasn’t the right word. You had to cradle Mariyanna in your arms as she had spent the whole time after sobbing. Aemond had not paid her much attention to her, and she thought it obvious he had figured out that it was you who had captured him all those months ago. 

“Shhh you do not know that to be true.” 

“I do! I saw the way he was looking at you.” You had patted down her hair in comfort as she shook in your arms. You could not celebrate at the idea that Aemond might have figured it out because you heart ached for your sister. 

“Even if he has figured out that it was I that was writing the letters, it does not mean he did not fall for you after all those hours he spent courting you.” You tried to reassure her, but her broken cries only got louder. 

“I could tell he did not like our talks. I am not dumb. I knew when I laughed at the wrong times and disagreed and agreed on his thoughts mistakenly. I knew he only liked me because of your letters. I just thought with more time he might grow fond of me.” You shushed her crushed sobs and pressed a kiss atop her head. 

“If he did not grow fond of your little Anna, then he is a fool.” You whispered. She lay in your arms a little longer, before letting out a long exhale. She quickly sniffed, before sitting herself up and wiping her eyes. 

“It is okay.” She whispered, pinching her cheeks and quickly blinking away her tears. You were shocked by her sudden change of demeanour, but she ignored you and moved to her window. With a frown you slowly stood, scared any sudden movement would break her once more. 

“Mary...” 

“Veron Greyjoy has asked me to wed him. I think I shall accept it.” She gazed out, as if she had not mentioned something so immense.  

“What?” You rushed to her side, but she simply sighed at you like you were an idiot. Clasping your hands with hers, she finally looked at you. 

“My courtship with Aemond was flawed. I had to make sure I had other options. Of course, marrying a prince of Westeros was the ideal option but I was not dumb enough to think there was a certain likeliness of me wedding him. Unlike you, I do not mind if I marry for security. So, I entertained some men on the side. I have had a few other proposals of course, but I enjoy Veron’s company the most.” You could not speak from the shock of her news, but Mary simply kissed your fingers. 

“What of Aemond?” 

“He was kind, of course. And I would have been happy to wed him because I believe he shall make a wonderful husband. But I do not love him.” Disbelief. It is all that you felt. But you should not have been surprised. Your baby sister was born to thrive amongst the court, and you were a fool for thinking her dim-witted. Perhaps she was a greater schemer than Otto Hightower? 

“You’re fucking insane.” You let out a breathless laugh, as you stumbled to leave her room. 

“At first I was committed to him.” She called. You turned back to look at her smirking face. “But I started looking elsewhere when I saw you sign one of those letters with your own name.” Staring at her with a gaping mouth, you could not believe what was happening. 

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” You muttered defensively. It only made her chuckle. 

“You have my permission.” 

“For what!?”  

“You may let him court you. I know you love him. And who am I to get in the way of that? I do not remember a time you showed interest in any man.” She smiled lovingly at your blushing form while you stood spluttering out sentences of denial. 

“He is a prince.” You finally whispered in defeat. You could never hide anything from her. 

“And you shall be a fine princess.” 

+++ 

You could not sleep after your talk with your sister. You had spent your night twisting and turning under the moonlight that streamed in from your window. So, with a huff, you found yourself marching to the library in a robe. Carrying a candle and allowing your hair to flow freely as your bare feet slapped upon the stone hallways, you were sure to have looked like a madwoman, but you were to frazzled to care. It was only when you made it into your hideaway within the library, that you finally allowed yourself to relax. You began lighting the candles upon the walls so that you had enough light to read and allowed yourself to reach for the book Ten Thousand Ships. During your exchanges with Aemond, you had spent many letters discussing Nymeria and her reign over Dorne. It was your favourite piece of literature, and it was his too. 

You couldn’t read. You tried. Gods you tired. But the longer you stared at a page, the more distorted the words became. Instead, your mind was only on Aemond.  

“You deceived me.” The sudden voice that came from between the shelves made you scream in shock. The book dropped as you quickly pushed yourself back in fear. But it only took a moment to be reminded whose voice that was. You watched as Aemond stepped forth from the shadows, still in his leather pants from dinner, but now just a sheer white undershirt covering his torso. The candlelight illuminated his face as he moved forward, and you breath hitched at the sight. He no longer had his eyepatch strapped up, but instead he left his missing eye bare for you to see. You expected a sunken hole where his missing eye once was, but the light caught on the sapphire, and you watched it glisten. You were awed, and when he noticed you did not look away from his scarring, he could not help but look upon you fondly. Swallowing your anxiousness, you simply bowed your head. 

“I am sorry Aemond. Truly.” You cursed yourself for being so informal and allowing yourself to call him by his name, and when you watched him clench then unclench his fists, you thought you had already ruined everything. 

“I could have you arrested for such fraudulence.” He muttered beneath his breath, making your neck bow even further. You felt tears spring to the corners of your eyes while you tried to gain composer. 

“It is true. And perhaps I deserve it. I did not intend for it to go this far.” Your breath was shaky as you exhaled your words and allowed yourself to slowly lift your gaze. You expected to see Aemond glaring, full of hatred at the revelation that he had been played a fool, but he was simply looking down at you with an amused smile. 

“I jest. I shall not have you arrested.” He apologised with a smirk, and this time your heart began to race for different reasons. No longer were you in fear of imprisonment, for now all you care for was the way Aemond Targaryen was standing above you in hardly any clothes, while you were sitting on the ground like a peasant with no shoes and untidy hair. You could not look away from the way his hair seemed to glow in the moonlight, and it was at that moment that you realise how unkept it was. It looked as if he had run his fingers through it a million times and in different directions. 

“I could find no sleep.” You whispered. He exhaled a breath and let out a soft hum. 

“Neither could I. My mind is... preoccupied.” You nodded in understanding and felt your heart soar from your chest. You were no fool. You know what was happening. 

“Will you sit with me?” You suggested as you began clearing away the books you had scattered across the floor. Aemond did not need to think as he gracefully dropped to his knees and allowed himself to fall to your side. Trying to make yourselves comfortable, he let his hand stretch you behind you, and you were quick to fall into his side. 

“Are you still reading A Caution for Young Girls?” You felt yourself choke at his jest, before allowing yourself to laugh.  

“No. I finished it.” You smirked while pulling your book back into your lap. “Hmmm. A shame.” He whispered, leaving a tingling sensation running down your spine. 

“I found it... enlightening.” You smirked as you ran your thumb across your lower lip. You felt him push his nose in your hair and you both couldn’t help but smile. You let out something between a moan and a laugh, before holding up Ten Thousand Ships. 

“I believe you are familiar?” You teased. He let his teeth draw in his bottom lip quickly before chuckling at your question. 

“I know something of it.” You went to turn the next page but stopped as you felt him move your wild hair to the side. 

“Let us start again.” He whispered. Reaching down to your hand, he pulled up your fingers and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“I am Aemond Targaryen, my lady. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?” 

[acaciusbride]

That’s My Girl - [ Joel Miller x Reader 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ ]

Anon requested jealous, possessive Joel with a filthy mouth, so here you are! General CW for spice, unsafe sex, Joel with a filthy mouth, & a slightly red flag possessive streak.

Joel slammed the door behind you, expression mutinously annoyed as he crossed his arms and turned to you.

“What the fuck was that back there?” He demanded.

You had to resist the urge to smirk; if you weren’t so annoyed yourself, you’d feel smug about pissing him off. Joel liked to pretend he didn’t give a rat’s ass about you, but it was obvious that you were more than… whatever he thought you were. A quick fuck. Something casual. There was nothing casual about the way he’d grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the bar.

“What was what?” You asked sweetly, enjoying the way his eyes darkened.

“You know damn well what.” He glared, “letting that random fucking informant buy you drinks.”

“Maybe I like free booze?” You suggested, innocent. Oh, you knew exactly what you were doing.

“Not enough to let someone like that put their hands on you, surely?”

Your own temper flared. “What’s it to you, Joel? I’m not your goddamn property. Besides, you can’t lecture me on exclusivity when-“

You stopped, still angry, still hurt, by what you had seen. By what had driven you to provoke him, to try and draw out his jealous side in blatant vengeance.

“When what?” He demanded, exasperated. Honestly he had no damn clue what had possibly driven you to act the way you had, flirting with anyone and everyone. You were his, dammit. Nobody else should be able to hold your attention. Nobody else was worthy of it.

You were so angry at the memory, you wanted to cry.

“When I show up at your place looking for you and Tess answers the door wearing your fucking shirt and says you’re busy.” You snapped, glaring at him. “You don’t get to demand I don’t look for attention elsewhere when you’re clearly more than happy to fuck both of us.”

He stared at you. He hadn’t been home at the time, had been at work. He knew which shirt you were referring to, though. It was an old one he’d given her on a laundry day, almost a year ago.

“That… is not what’s happening here.” He said flatly.

“No? You think I’m stupid?” You demanded. Honestly if he wasn’t so worried about fixing this, wasn’t so pissed about you letting that fucking rat touch you, he’d almost find this funny.

“I haven’t been with Tess like that for… Fuck, almost five years.” He shook his head, “that shirt was too small for me, I handed it down on a laundry day when she had nothing clean. And I was at work, by the way.”

You cut your building tirade, mouth open but nothing coming out, feeling monumentally stupid.

“Oh.” You manage, knowing full well how lame you sound.

“Yeah, oh.” He frowned at you, “you know better than to let her rile you up.”

He was already making a note of talking to Tess, though. He’d have a few choice words for her, that was for damn sure. But that wasn’t his focus.

“Now we’ve cleared that up, you wanna tell me again why you were getting so cosy with our good friend the local rat, there?” He backed you right up against the wall, one arm on either side of you, effectively trapping you there.

“I-“ You had absolutely no good answer for him.

“I’m gonna take a guess,” he suggested, “that you thought it would be a good idea to piss me off, by acting like a complete slut.”

“No, I-“

“No? You weren’t? Cause that’s not what it looked like to me, baby.”

You could feel the heat coming from him; in a very short sentence: you’d fucked up. Big time.

“I just-“

“I don��t care what your damn reason was, honestly. But I have a suggestion for you.” He was leaning in close now, mouth so close to yours. You leaned in, wanting so badly to kiss him. He turned his head at the last minute.

“You want to put that mouth to use? Get on your knees and show me.”

Fuck, he was mad. You were only starting to realise just how far you’d pushed him now, but there was no going back, and no hiding the thrill you were getting from it as you dropped to your knees to obey him, hands going to his belt.

“Not making a case for yourself here, are you darlin’?” There was a sort of wry amusement to his voice as you unzipped his jeans, wrapped your hand around his already hard length.

He kept one hand on the wall, the other reaching down to stroke your hair.

“Be a good girl now and I might be less mad.”

You looked up at him, staring into those depthless dark eyes, as you leaned in to lick a slow stripe along his cock, watching his reaction before you took him into your mouth. You didn’t hold back, sucking him eagerly.

“This what you were gonna do to that other bastard? Or am I special?” He was taunting you, he knew deep down you’d never have let anyone else touch you, but fuck, he was angry about it. You were his. His. Nobody else got to touch you. Even thinking about it made him see red.

You, of course, couldn’t answer, mouth otherwise occupied as he started to thrust shallowly into your throat. He groaned softly when you sucked him, swallowing around him. He knew exactly what you were doing, pulled out of your mouth and tapped you sharply on the lips with his cock.

“Not yet. Get up.”

You got up, a little shaky, only to find yourself pinned against the wall, your dress being pushed up around your hips.

“Tell me, is this what you’d let anyone else do to you?”

“N-no,” you admitted, voice shaking with a little fear, a lot of desire.

“No? Are you sure?” His lips grazed your throat, teeth nipping the skin.

“I’m sure…” you were absolutely soaked; you could feel your own wetness drenching your panties as he dragged them aside, wrapped your leg around his waist.

“Good.” He almost growled it, “you’re mine.”

He slid into you in a single, deep, rough thrust, drawing a cry of surprised pleasure from your lips.

“I don’t give a damn if you want to be a whore, as long as it’s only for me.” He kept one hand wrapped around you to steady you, keeping you braced against the wall with his other hand as he fucked you, harder and faster with each deep thrust.

“Fuck-“ you whimpered, tightening your leg around his waist, bringing him in deeper.

“None of that.” He slapped your ass sharply, “talk to me, baby, use your words. Tell me who you belong to.”

He was barely thinking straight himself, driven by a deep and primal feeling of jealousy, rage, and possessiveness. You brought out the best in him, but that was a double edged sword. You could also bring out the worst, when needed.

Luckily, you understood, knew how to play him.

“You, Joel,” you cried out as he hit your sweet spot, again and again, “I’m yours, I promise!”

Your cries faded into incoherence, loud and desperate sounds of pleasure as he brought you closer and closer, finally reaching the apex of your pleasure, tightening around him, soaking every inch of him that was buried inside you.

“That’s goddamn right,” he agreed, pressing a searing kiss to your mouth, “you’re all mine, darlin’, don’t ever forget that.”

He could feel his own pace start to get erratic as he drew closer and closer to his own release, incoherent growls and groans falling from his lips.

“Fuck, darlin’, you feel so fuckin’ good, prettiest damn pussy I ever felt, gonna fill you up so good…” he punctuated each word with a sharp snap of his hips, “gonna make you forget anyone else you ever had… fuck…”

He couldn’t control it any longer, feeling himself throb and ache inside you as he filled you with his release; usually he was so careful about pulling out of you, but well… accidents happen. And if that accident so happened to keep you around and with him? All the better for it.

“Mine, darling. You’re all mine.” He murmured into your ear, holding you close.

You sighed, kissed his throat.

“I’m sorry…” you admitted; you’d pushed him too far, and you knew it.

He gave you a small smirk. “Don’t be sorry, baby. You more than made up for it.” He paused, and then, “just don’t do that shit again.”

You smiled back, rested your forehead against his.

“I won’t. Promise.”

He kissed your lips gently. “That’s my girl.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 7

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: we just vibing.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Silence simmers in the meeting room. Lloyd watches you, basking in your defeat. You don’t have to proclaim it, no need for a white flag, it’s all very obvious.

You need this job. Even if Burger King called you that very moment, flipping burgers isn’t going to pay for Pete’s negligence or your children’s lunches. As always, you’re the one who has to do what needs to be done.

You raise your chin and swallow, trying to sit up straight. He watches you, a smirk slanting his mouth as he flutters his fingers over his bristly mustache. He chuckles as he slowly struts closer.

“You look tired, cupcake, so we’ll keep it simple,” he nears, soles scuff with each step as he puts his hands on his belt. “I’ve put up with your mouth more than I should so why don’t you put it to good use?”

He unbuckles his belt and you sniff. Your throat constricts as you stare at the bottom of his shirt as he opens his fly and the tails break out. Your nostrils flare as you tamp down the last of your defiance. Is that pride? You haven’t had use for that in years.

Fed up, done, exhausted, helpless. Whatever it is, you just want it over with. You roll the chair closer and grab the front of his pants. He lets out a grunt as you pull him closer. He catches himself on your shoulder as you tug his pants down to his thighs.

“Wow, sunshine, you that desperate for a gourmet cut–”

He can’t finish his disgusting remark as you stretch the elastic of his briefs and roll them down, angling them past his already hard dick. He perks up as you bare his excitement and you roll your eyes. The arrow shaved into his pelvis pointing to his dick is juvenile.

“Alright, take it easy–”

“I know how to suck a dick,” you hiss and grab him, stroking him to his tip and back down, slow, easing yourself into what you’re about to do. 

Your stomach curdles as you wheel even closer and straighten your spine. This man revolts you. Every man does. Your own husband most of all. Well, consider this revenge. It might be torture for you but vengeance nonetheless.

“Shit,” Lloyd rasps as he pulls his hand away from your shoulder, “don’t be so rough–”

You continue to play with him, less than meanly. You squeeze at his tip so he twitches and groans. You didn’t lie. You know what you’re doing but it does feel like a while since you have. You close your eyes and lean in as you pump your hand back down.

Your breath glosses over him and he shudders. You press your lips to his tip then swipe your tongue around. He lets out a longer drone and spasms. You continue to tease him, delaying the inevitable. You can taste the saltiness of his pre-cum. Just like any man, he’s easy.

You take his full tip into your mouth. His voice crackles in his throat and sets his feet. He cradles the side of your head and groans as you make a careful advance down his length. A few inches and back up. A little at a time, wetting him with your saliva.

“Oh, wow, toots, you really…” his voice drifts off as you take him halfway, teetering on the edge of your chair.

The sloppy noise of your task boils in your chest. You shouldn’t do this. Even if Pete betrayed you, it’s wrong. You’re a mother, you’re a wife, you’re better than this. No, you’re old, worn out, and unloved. You don’t want to do this, but you need to.

Keep telling you that and you might not gag.

You get further and further, each time he rumbles in breathless delight. His hand slides around the back of your head, urging you on as he tilts his pelvis forward. He thrusts slightly as you struggle to take him down your throat. Your eyes well and your throat squeezes. You repress a cough and keep going.

You pull back, your hand still on him. You know he’s close. You feel him fighting, shaking, ready to spill over like a kettle on high. You slip your hand down to fondle his sac and he lets out a longer moan, fingertips curling against your scalp. Almost there, weak.

“Wait, wait, wait…” he begs.

You pop your mouth off of him and put your other hand around him. You squeeze his balls as you work him quickly, bracing yourself for the eruption. A peel of thunder rolls through him as he cums, spurting violently so it hits your shirt, your neck, and trails down his slack pants. You circle your thumb around his tip as he quakes and you coax him through the final waves. 

He huffs and braces your shoulders with both hands as he drops his head. He sucks in air and it scratches in his throat. He shifts his feet and trails his touch down to squeeze your tits through your shirt.

“You didn’t even let me have a go at the funbags,” he accuses, his voice silty and low.

You look up at him as you let go and roll back. You look down at yourself and gulp down shame. Worse than his semen on your blouse is the slickness between your legs. You swivel the chair and stand without a word, grabbing kleenex from the middle of the table to wipe your hand and your shirt, then your neck. 

You ball the tissue up and swipe some more. You turn to Lloyd and clean him up quietly, wiping him then his pants, and zipping and buckling them up. You tap his stomach and grab the wadded up kleenex to dump in the bin. You face him as you squirt some sanitizer into your hand and rub them together.

“I’m going back to work, sir,” you declare.

He stares at you, cheeks flushed as he smooths his hair back. He clears his throat and puffs out, chest rising and falling. His jaw squares, “you will go back to work, like a good girl, won’t you?”

You try not to glare at his weak attempt to reclaim his power. He holds all the cards but he doesn’t realise you’ll always have the trump. He’s a man, he’s simple. The simplest thing in your life.

🗄

You’re oddly more alert for the rest of the day. Maybe, just more determined as your work is your singular escape. It’s easier for you to lose yourself in budgets and expense reports rather than think of everything else.

You don’t take your lunch. Your appetite is all but non-existent. The office fades into a blur around you as there is only you and your computer. You only break away from your trance to refill your coffee.

You stretch as you stand, balancing as tiptoes as you try to loosen the muscles of your calves. You roll your shoulders and pass by several empty desks as your coworkers opt to have their lunches.

You enter the lunchroom and find several people sitting around the table, jabbering about sports or Netflix over open containers. They don’t acknowledge you but neither do you. You put your thermos under the spout of the machine and pluck out a medium roast capsule.

As you insert the k-cup and close the lid, a sudden silence settles over the space. A scramble and the click-clacking of lids on tupperware. You don’t bother to look back as you choose your brew strength and cup size. You keep a hand on the machine as you lean into it.

You glance over as the employees at the table stand with their sealed containers and give meek looks towards the door. They file towards it solemnly, ‘sir’, ‘Mr. Hansen’, ‘good afternoon’... they flee back to the safety of their desk at the appearance of the mustachioed manager. You shrug and turn your attention back to your thermos.

He laughs as he struts into the room and goes to the fridge. He opens it, standing only a foot from you as he peruses the contents. He hums as he bends and searches. He tuts as he swings the fridge shut and turns to lean against it. He crosses his arms as he watches you.

“No lunch today?” He wonders.

“Coffee,” you answer and take your thermos from the tray, twisting the lid onto it.

“Ah, yeah, you did start your day out with a big breakfast,” he winks, twitching slightly as the thought arouses him.

“Sir,” you face him and inhale deeply, nostrils flaring.

He tilts his head and looks you up and down, “we need to get a few things straight, babycakes.”

“Do we? I thought everything was pretty clear… Mr. Hansen.”

He snickers into a growl and runs his fingertips down his throat, “I don’t think it was.” He arches a brow, “you don’t dismiss me, I dismiss you. That’s your one. No more.”

You look at him dully and pop up the tab on the lid of your thermos, “got it, sir. Won’t happen again.”

He doesn’t seem happy with your acquiescence. He squints and recrosses his arms. His cheek dimples as he sucks his teeth.

“Right,” he pushes himself straight, stretching his neck side to side, “number.”

He reaches into his jacket and pulls out his phone. You frown.

“You have my extension, sir–”

“Fuck that noise, give me your number.”

You recite your phone number as he keys it in. He winks and taps the screen one last time before slipping it back into his pocket. He steps closer, looming before you.

“This doesn’t make you special. You still work for me, you do what I say, what I want…” his timbre edges hotly, “and if you don’t, you can go home to your sad husband and your bratty kids and tell them how mommy got canned for being a stubborn bitch.”

“Sir,” you tense, “I haven’t–”

“I’m laying out the terms of our contract,” he interrupts, “so listen.”

You snap your mouth shut, the scent of coffee rising from your thermos, tempting you to sip. You don’t dare as you keep your eyes on the man before you. Victory glints in his eyes. This is ego, fine, you’ll feed it.

“I don’t ever care if you're busy. When I say jump, you jump right onto my dick. When I say swallow, you drink it the fuck down,” he wags his finger at you.

“I…” you look away, “I’ll try, but sir, I have kids–”

“That little princess isn’t old enough to rule the castle?” He snorts.

“Don’t,” you warn him, “sir, with respect, that's my daughter.”

“And you want to take care of her. I know, you're a martyr, so let's talk sainthood.”

You press your lips together. It's not quite a threat, more a reminder of what you could lose. You flick your brow up.

“Fine, I'll pay for the babysitter. How much can that be, anyway?”

You nod, “alright.” You'll take what little he'll give. Prostituting yourself for childcare, wow.

“Don't look so fucking pathetic, babe, you just got promoted,” he sneers, “you get your very own throne.”

He shamelessly gropes the front of his pants. You keep your lip from curling and clutch your thermos tighter. Somehow, you hoped your boardroom antics would sate him. You should've guessed it's not that easy.

“Is there something you need right now?” You force the words out crisply.

He chuckles and sighs, “no, you enjoy your coffee. You're going to need that boost.”

You stare at him. What does he mean? If not now, he surely has something else planned. You have enough work without trying to untangle his riddles.

“Can I go back to my desk now, Mr. Hansen?”

“Aw, look at you, asking for permission,” he coos, “go.”

You step around him, moving cautiously. You sense him turn to watch your departure, his knuckles snapping against your ass. You flinch and stop just by the door.

“Ooo, squishy,” he remarks.

You cringe and fall back into step. You're entirely certain he's used to a different type. Maybe that squishness might just change his mind.

🗄

The rest of your day passes without disturbance. The calm has you on edge. Trepidation in every glance over your desk and every trip to the bathroom. When you pack up, you don't expect to leave on time. But you don't see Hansen and you hope whatever's distracted him keeps him that way.

The kids are chaotic as you get them onto the car. It takes a lot to get Malik still enough to strap into his seat. You get on the road and follow the slog of traffic through the school zone.

Closer to home, you feel your phone buzzing but don't answer. Malik and Simone are arguing about something, you can't focus between them and the cars around you. The pressure builds and builds as your phone starts again.

You're not mad at them. You're mad at Pete. Mad that he never does this, that he can't even bother to be with you so he can help. The hard stuff if never his responsibility.

You finally get home and mediate between your children. As you enter the house, you're met with the unexpected aroma of cooking. Simone gives you a look as Malik doesn't notice.

You help your son with his shoes as Simone hangs her coat and puts her bag on the chest beside the rack. You take Malik’s jacket and put it on a hook, forgetting about your own as he sprints into the front room. You hover in the doorway as Simone takes out her book and flops onto the couch.

“You're home,” Pete emerges from the kitchen, “I got dinner on.”

He's proud but you're not impressed. You don't say a word as Malik races over to his dad and reaches up. Pete scoops him up and shakes him in a bear hug until he's giggling wildly. This is what he does, he's the good guy and you're just the maid.

Your pocket vibrates again. You huff and pull your phone out, not checking to call display as you put it face down on the end table. Sure, he's cooking but you'll be the one cleaning up and doing bathtime and bed time. Same as it ever was.

You go back to the entry way and strip off your jacket, plunking your work bag veside Simone's. You return and cross the room, brushing by Pete to enter the kitchen. Oh god. It's already a fucking mess.

He puts Malik down and tells him to find his tablet. Your husband follows and you face his eager grin. You scowl.

“You used my ceramic pan?” You hiss.

His face falls. “I… I'm trying…”

“You're a joke,” you scoff and go to the stove, the chicken is burning. “Well, I guess we can scrape off the black parts.”

He comes over to stand beside you, “do you gotta rain on everything?” He keeps his voice down.

“Take a look in the mirror,” you retort and turn on your heel, “let me know when you need me to come make something edible.”

[lundenloves]

couples counselling II

Did someone say angst? Gimme an A, gimme an N— no? Okay. Listen I never claimed to be happy, and this is further proof. Welcome new readers, *leans on doorframe alluringly* I love writing character demise. Happy reading, kids.

↳ angst, angst and angst | 2.1k

part one | masterlist

javier being dismissive and nonchalant again. everyone calm down and stay together, this is a guided tour, follow the red flag i’m holding as we explore the peña mind.

The first seven days: in a word, torture. Well, not quite but it certainly came close by the amplified scoffs, sighs and arguments. Javier hadn’t managed to let go of the fact this whole thing was Aleta’s actual idea, a poor one at that, mumbling profanities to himself the moment he had stepped out the door. She followed behind him, refusing to walk by his side when he was being such an ignorant fuck about the whole thing.

“You want this to work?” He stopped, turning to face her in the middle of the parking lot — palms faced up in question. The sun had caught his glare, somehow injecting it with an extra dose of inconvenience just to add salt to the wound. “Huh, pateadora?”

Aleta cringed at the derogatory nickname he had used. Kicker. He’d coined it in El Paso following an onslaught of kicks to his shin under tables for inappropriate conversations, and he couldn't resist but stamp the name onto her. Like a medal to an athlete. She fucking hated it. “Get off the fucking road, pendejo.”

“Then walk with me.” His eyes followed her, condescendingly shaking his head when she’d pushed him from his stoppage. “Hardly asking for salvation, here.” Aleta groaned frustratedly at his mutter, rounding the car to enter the passenger side.

“No. You’re asking for death.”

Javier leaned his head against the steering wheel, finding his shoulders vibrating in laughter. This really was fucking ridiculous. He hit the dash with a thud, sitting back in his seat and pushing arms across his broad chest.

“This won’t work, you know.” He said, eyes fixed onto the near empty parking lot ahead of them.

Aleta studied his features, sighing at the familiar crease by his eyes and the way it loosened when he’d momentarily lifted his brow. The finger that traced across his bottom lip, then down to his jaw, smoothing over his cheek in visible stress.

“That’s only because you don’t want it to work.”

He’d snorted at that. “I’m paying two-hundred an hour for it, Aleta.”

“Fucking show interest then.” She berated loudly.

And to be fair, they’d tried. They really had tried on the task given to them. But staring at someone who literally boils your blood with a snap of his fingers was hard to do, Javier likewise, finding anything a better option than conceding to the request.

And admittedly, he’d been ducking out of it a bit. Purposely staying later at the office and tiptoeing around the house so as to not wake her when he had eventually gotten home late. He knew it would result in a chewing next Sunday at the session. He just didn’t care.

So one night when he had come home to find her sitting in the kitchen, it was endgame.

“Shit.” He dropped his jacket to the kitchen table, clutching a hand to his chest. “What the fuck are you doing?” A deep frown set across his brow, opening the fridge for a bottle of water before turning to look at her over his shoulder.

“Sit.” She near ordered, pushing out a chair for him with her foot.

He turned around. “Why.” Eyes cast downward to the floor with a sharp exhale before placing his hands on his hips purposefully. “It’s late.”

“Puto, sientas.”

Javier stared at her for a moment, his eyes twitching at her energy. He kicked the chair further wide of her leg, sitting down with his hand centre on the table. She locked eyes with him and he let out a long sigh, dropping his head to hang between his shoulders.

“You’re not trying. She asked us to try.” Aleta leaned forward onto the table, watching as he swiped his hand back toward himself.

“And you’re pushing mountains?” He quipped, sitting back and planting his feet a far distance from one another. “This isn’t a one way thing.”

“That’s what i’m fuckin’ saying, pendejo.”

Javier rubbed his face, dragging his skin down in fatigue before turning to her. “Well then let her deal with it.” An accusatory palm had been gestured toward the door, as if the Doctor was standing outside. “I don’t know why you're so insistent on us. We can’t even fucking look at eachother.” His arms thrown ahead of himself to emphasise the point.

“Fuck you.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong.” The side of his lip tugged upward at her lack of reaction, both of his hands landing flat on the table. And for a moment, a slight moment — Aleta had thought that was it for them.

And it would've been if she couldn't read Javier well, the minute flaring of his nostrils and the way he inwardly sighed, his features softening and passing as eerie hostility to anyone but the woman opposite him.

He was scared of it all.

And that’s exactly what the Doctor had clocked onto in that session come Sunday. Her notes were pointedly placed by her chair instead of her lap. It was the first thing Javier had noticed when walking in, failing to hide the crease between his brows.

“Mr and Mrs Peña.” She nodded with a stiff smile.

Javier sat back on the deep sofa, maintaining the same distance to his wife as before and looking up to the ceiling in anticipation of more headaches. The muscles in his arms flexed when his hands had been pushed through his hair, joining at his nape. “Mornin’.” He grumbled.

The Doctor took a moment before clearing her throat. “How did you get on with what we discussed?”

“We tried.”

“No we didn’t. Not really.” Javier spoke, receiving a lengthy glare from his wife.

“We did.” She bit back, wasting no time. “He’s just scared of it all.” Her words came like a dagger to Javi’s masculinity, like she’d just clawed it back and shoved him in front of a crowd. He returned his eyes to the scene before him, looking at her like a kicked dog. The Doctor tilted her head at Aleta’s words before looking to Javier.

“Does loss scare you?” Her soft tone angered him.

“No.” He replied dryly, shifting in his seat.

The Doctor allowed for his denial, her eyes flitting to Aleta who had subtly nodded as if to confirm he was lying. “He picked up extra hours. Again.”

“I already had those hours.” His arms crossed tight over his chest again in self-preservation. “I told you, I don’t know why we’re still trying. This is fucking stupid.”

Aleta bit on her lip, a projecting smile forming. “You’re the one who's paying.” Her attempt to mask the brewing anger was not working. Javier sat forward, looking toward the Doctor to ignore his wife.

“I’m paying because all you do is fucking complain.”

“And you believe the love isn’t there anymore, Javier?” There came an interception from Aleta’s pending bite, flicking a few pages deeper in her notes before looking up to him.

“No, it’s gone.” He cleared his throat while resting his elbows on his knees, looking to the floor over joined hands.

“Is that what you want?”

Javier's jaw ticked, rubbing the back of his neck before shrugging silently. His face remaining stiff, eyes stuck to the vinyl flooring as if a certain death would occur upon his looking up. “I don’t really care.” The nonchalance in his voice was expected.

“That’s bullshit.” Aleta interrupted strongly. “You fuckin’ know it is, Javi.”

He looked back at her. “Is it?” A hand ran up his neck and over his hair with a grin, her sudden reaction setting him off. “Or is that what you want? You want this whole thing to blow over?”

“That’s not what we’re here for.”

“No, we're here to waste time.” He silenced her, shaking his head before looking back to the Doctor who gave a weak smile.

“This won’t work if both parties aren’t cooperating.” She only added salt to Aleta’s wounds, the pressing of her lips rounding the words off like a fucking punch to the gut.

Javier clapped his hands once, dropping them to his thighs. “That’ll be us then.” He said, digging into his pockets to source a cigarette.

“Will it shit.”

His wife’s tone was brash, her pupils blown in impatience as he caught eyes with her. His tongue swiped across his bottom lip before sticking the cigarette to it, “I can smoke in here, right?”

The white coat opposite him nodded, shifting a few papers across her lap and back to the table. Shaking her head, she asked, “What’s the ideal outcome for you two.”

“To not kill each other.” Javier mused like this whole thing was a joke, tapping the heel of his boot on the floor. A long trail of smoke danced above his cigarette, absorbing Aleta’s attention more than his remark.

“Aleta?”

“For him to stop lying.”

She hadn’t blinked, still in a daze for the smoke.

Javier only looked at her, his eyes squinting before taking a slow drag in thought. Knee once again betraying him for the way it bounced up and down, and the quietness of her voice tightening his jaw.

“I think you two need to talk. With no avoidance.”

He snorted.

“Here. You’ll talk here.” She clicked her pen on a notebook that had been opened to a fresh page. “Javier, tell Aleta something you like about her.”

The instruction made him sigh, sitting back on the sofa and looking up in contemplation for a little too long. “Her lips.”

“Vice versa.”

“I like his eyes.”

“Who loved first?”

“Me.” Javier answered shortly, his eyes shifting toward hers for a split second.

“Recall it.”

Aleta figured out what was going on pretty quickly. It was a solemn attempt to reignite the memories in Javi’s head, maybe create a spark for a flame of their marriage to continue on.

He puffed out a breath, dropping his shoulders and looking back up toward the ceiling. “She didn’t like me, kept pushing me away.” The smoke of his cigarette came with the words, exhalation pushing them up to cloud. “But I was persistent. I wanted her.”

“Why did you want her?”

He sat forward, almost laughing with a tilt of his head. “She made me nervous.”

Aleta’s eyes averted to the floor.

“No one made me feel like that.”

The room fell quiet and for the first time, it was allowed. The white coat encouraged the way they stared at one another. Javier rubbed at his temple, leaning forward but looking back to his wife who stared down at him.

He was a stoic person.

And the breakdown of their marriage forced him to close back up. The feeling of losing that primal safety contributing to the resurface of nonchalance and disinterest.

He knew that she was aware of it.

Which only pushed him further off that cliff.

“Why did you give him a chance?”

Aleta laughed. “I don’t know.” Her smile slowly faded into a shadow, nostrils flaring in evidence to her upset.

No one had asked that before.

“How about we wrap this one up…” A smile came empathetically, closing her notebook and the matching folder titled Peña. “I just want you two to talk. That’s all.”

Javier stubbed his cigarette out in the provided ashtray, rubbing his face. “Alright.” He answered for his wife.

“And what I asked last week too. Maybe try that again.” Aleta nodded absently, unfreezing from her trance and standing up to follow Javi who held the door open. “See you next Sunday.”

Fuck. This.

It felt like Deja Vu by the time they had reached the parking lot again. Javier stood in the middle of it once more, a cigarette clung to his lip while looking back at Aleta. The long inhale he took felt futile by the way it was instantly sighed out, hand placed on his hip.

“I told you, it’s not going to work.”

“Ten years. Javier. Fucking ten years.”

His eyes looked black from where she was standing. And the calmness of his movements was telling against her building rage for every passing day, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want her.

“You really don’t want this?”

One side of his lip turned downward for the nod he gave, as if this is what he was trying to say all along. He shook his head, “No. I don’t.” Arms dropping to his sides in defeat.

He just wasn’t scared enough.

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.

taglist? fill out this form.

[bianxingren]

that’s how the colors worked out when i applied them to the bi flag. if you don’t like it, use someone else’s.

transmasc flag set

lesbian, gay, bi

nonbinary, genderfluid, agender

ace, aro, pan

requested by @bimalewife!

please don’t use if you fit this criteria!

reblog && credit to use!

[taradiddled]

Alastor: What’s this? The Devil’s own illustrious mistress has come to ask a favor of me?

Ada: Yeah, yeah. Toot your horn. Go on. But I can also take my generosity elsewhere. As well as the chance to piss off Vox and his cronies. So, if you’re finished gloating?

Alastor: We shall have to see if what you’re offering is truly worth my care. Remember, I am only willing because the Princess of Hell has asked me to give you better courtesy than you’ve shown me.

Ada: Uh-huh. Right. Did Rainbows tell you that you talk in the same sneaky, work-around way as her dad? Only, yours isn’t as charming…

Alastor: I take offense at that comparison. My time is valuable, so if you would tell me what it is that you want?

Ada: Right. Brass balls it is then. So! Vox’s news station has requested that I let them interview me, seeing as I’m the new Hot Shit doing the moving and shaking in this hellhole.

Alastor: Interesting. I believe you’re overestimating your impact, but, do go on.

Ada: I haven’t given them my answer yet, but I’m hoping to give someone else an exclusive interview with yours truly. And I want that interview to be inaccessible to Vox’s cronies.

Alastor: Interesting...and where is my assistance required?

Ada: You have a handle on the radios, don't you? Radio demon and all that fancy shit?

Alastor: In a more refined and dignified manner than your 'fancy shit', dear, but...yes. I do have a...'handle' on the radios.

Ada: Great. I want my interview to go on YOUR station, with one of YOUR flunkies doing the interviewing. Let Vox and his freaks know that Hell's Mistress doesn't fly under Vox's flag.

Alastor: Hmmm. Quite the request you've made. I would need to do some planning for this, not to mention, find one of my 'flunkies' willing to take the time to ask the questions. There is also the concern with bringing someone associated with the royal family onto my station -- I usually don't seek to flatter anyone with particular POLITICAL motives.

Ada: Oh please. You're buddy-buddy with the Princess of Hell, helping her run this Redemption Project of hers. You've also been SEEN with me in public, fending off one of Vox's cronies looking for the latest paparazzi shot. You're more than ASSOCIATING with the royal family. So why not do something to make the statement that, not only are you ASSOCIATING...but you're actually quite BENEFICIALLY FRIENDLY, too?

Alastor: Very persuasive argument. I will need some time to think this over. Give it the careful consideration it deserves, coming from the King's courtesan.

Ada: It's MISTRESS, asshole. And just in case you don't say 'yes', I've already told Charlie what a GREAT idea it is, and how I can use the interview to also advertise the Hotel. So, hope you're not planning on disappointing the Princess of Hell. It'd be pretty shitty to lose your pull with that nugget of power, huh?

Alastor: ...you are not as feckless as you have appeared to be.

Ada: Thanks. It's called 'playing your cards right'. You learn how to do that when rubbing elbows with Seraphim.

[babydollmarauders]

BEGIN AGAIN — NICO HISCHIER

nico hischier x fem!reader

request: “Hi I have another request if that’s okay with you! It’s another Taylor inspired one of course. Could you do a fic with Nico inspired by Begin Again. The ex boyfriend in the song could be Trevor or some other hockey player to add some angst.”

summary: eight months after having her heart broken, y/n regains hope in love after meeting meeting Nico.

warnings: mentions of cheating

notes: this is one of my favorite Taylor songs and i got SO EXCITED when i saw this request! i wrote this with Mat Barzal in mind as the ex-boyfriend, just because i wanted to keep it as someone kinda close to the NJ area, but not another Devil, however i’m sorry if that upsets anyone. he’s only mentioned a couple of times, so if you wanna imagine him as another hockey player named “matt” you have full right to do so.

“it’s been eight months babe, maybe it’s time for you to get back out there.”

logically, i know Nicole is right, but the thought of dating again causes a shiver down my spine. i’ve had some of the worst luck with boyfriends, most recently my ex, Mat. after ten months of dating, in which my friends kept telling me he had too many red flags, i caught him in bed with a girl he used to tell me was like a sister to him. since we broke up eight months ago, i’ve given up on finding someone to spend my life with. but my friends haven’t fully accepted my disbelief in love, urging me to try again, and with how lonely i’ve been recently, i’m warming to the idea.

“you know, Jesper has a teammate i could set you up with. i think you guys would really hit it off. and think about how fun it would be to go to games together!” Nicole speaks again, breaking through my self-pity filled thoughts.

“i don’t know. i don’t know if i wanna date any more hockey players, Nic.” i take my eyes off my half painted toenails, looking at her from across the couch. “i’ve only had bad experiences with them. i think Matt was my tipping point.”

“give them one more chance! they’re not all like that. i think you would really click with this guy. just one date! and if you don’t have a good time then i won’t persist.”

“one date?” i ask.

“one date.” she confirms, i shrug and focus back on my toenails, finishing my painting.

“okay. one date.” i tell her. Nicole squeals and sets her own nail polish down on the coffee table, jumping up and doing a little happy dance. i let out a laugh and roll my eyes.

not too long after our conversation, there’s a knock on my apartment door and Nicole’s boyfriend walks in. i met Nicole about a week after i moved to New Jersey, two years ago. we first became quick friends after meeting at a bookstore and bonding over our love for mysteries. then when she started dating Jesper, he fit right in and our duo has become a trio. they soon moved in together a couple apartments down the hall from me and now it’s become a routine for her to hang out over here while he’s at practice and he comes to get her once he gets home.

Jesper greets me with a hello before kissing his girlfriend on the top of the head. Nicole beams up at him and i feel a twinge of envy settle in my heart. i love their love, and i can’t help that there’s a part of me that feels like i’ll never get that kind of connection with someone.

“babe! you’ll never believe what happened!” Nicole squeals.

“what?” he asks, amusement laced in his voice and a smile on his face.

“y/n agreed to let me set her up with Nico!” he chuckles and looks over at me. i give a dejected shrug and he shakes his head.

“always the little matchmaker.” he chides, amused, before he jokes. “well, come on, you meddler. let’s go back to our own apartment and let y/n/n wallow with her Taylor Swift in peace.”

“i resent that.” i pipe up. but he just raises an eyebrow at me and i sink farther into the couch. okay, so maybe he’s not far off. i do have a habit of cranking up some Red (Taylor’s Version) and getting wine drunk.

Nicole and Jesper leave, with her promising to text me about a date between me and this Nico guy.

and true to her word, i wake up the next morning with a text from Nicole.

From: Nicole

wednesday at noon! at the café down the street! here’s his number: Nico Hischier, (xxx) xxx-xxxx . HAVE FUN!

i have to admit, i admire her dedication.

**

wednesday morning came faster than i wanted it to, and i kept my expectations low, expecting the worst from this date, as usual.

i show up at the café at exactly noon, contradicting my usual early arrivals, as guys never actually show up on time. but when i step into the café, i’m surprised when a handsome brunette stands from a seat at a table towards the back and waves at me with a shy smile. i fail to bite back my own grin as i make my way over to him.

“Nico?” i ask, holding my hand out.

“that’s me.” he confirms, slipping his hand in mine to shake before we drop them and he pulls the other chair out, motioning for me to take a seat. once i’m seated, he takes his seat across from me. “you must be y/n?”

“that’s me.” i nod. “i am so sorry if Nicole forced you into this. i’m convinced the word ‘no’ isn’t in her vocabulary.”

he chuckles and shakes his head.

“no, no. she didn’t. actually, as soon as she told me about you, i asked her to set this up.” his words surprise me, i was under the impression that this was Nicole’s idea. i can’t stop the blood rushing to my cheeks, painting them red.

“oh, i didn’t know that.” i look down at my hands, fidgeting on the table in front of me. “well, uh, tell me about yourself, Nico. the only thing Nicole told me was that you play hockey with Jesper. and i think i’ve deduced from your accent that you’re… Swiss? i think i got that right, but i might actually be horrible at guessing accents.”

he laughs again and my butterflies erupt in my stomach. he has a gorgeous laugh.

“no, you’re right, i’m from Switzerland.” he nods, confirming my guess. “and as you said, i play for the Devils with Jesper. but besides that-”

he continues telling me about himself, and i’m leaned on my elbows, listening to him talk. for once, i’m genuinely interested to hear about the man sitting in front of me. when he asks about myself, i give him all the truths, not holding back from telling him about my interests and family. before i know it, it’s been two hours and Nico is walking me down the block to my car before he leaves for an afternoon practice. we’re walking in silence, and i ponder the idea of telling him about my ex. knowing it might be better to get it out in the air now. but then Nico starts back up our last discussion from in the café, about christmas traditions.

“we have a tradition of watching a movie called Drei Haselnüsse für Aschenbrödel, which i think in english is called Three Wishes for Cinderella. it started when my sister Nina was young.” i push my thoughts away and give him my full attention, engrossed in what he has to say. taking this as a sign to wait for that discussion.

when we arrive at my car, i’m pleasantly surprised that i don’t actually want to leave. unlocking my car, i open my door and throw my purse in on the passengers seat before turning back to Nico, who stands with a small smile on his face and his hands in his pockets.

“i, uh, i’d really love to see you again. if you’re up for that?” i say. his half smile turns into a grin and he nods.

“yeah, i’d like that a lot. maybe next time we can actually go out to dinner or another proper date outing. i’m sorry that today was just coffee.” he says and i shake my head.

“that sounds great but, don’t sell yourself short. i had a really nice time today. besides, i know hockey players don’t always have free schedules but, i really like you so i’ll take whatever i can get. even if it’s just a twenty minute date eating mcdonald’s.” i tell him, shrugging my shoulders as i lean against my car.

“let’s hope it doesn’t come to that!” he jokes, and i let my giggle slip out freely. he shifts his weight back and forth on his feet as we stand in silence for a second, just smiling at each other, content with ourselves. “i better get going, my car is back at the café. but is it okay if i text you? or better yet, call you?”

“i’d love that. but, wait, your car is back there? why did you walk me all the way over here then?” i laugh. “we could’ve parted ways back there! now i feel bad that you walked past your car just to walk with me.”

“i just didn’t want this to end yet.” he shrugs. “i’d do it again if i had the choice.”

his words make me blush and i look down at my feet.

���you text me, or call me, or hell, i’m sure Nicole will gladly tell you where i live. just, don’t ghost me.” i halfheartedly joke. he smiles one last time and shakes his head, starting to walk backwards away from my car.

“oh trust me, you’ve got me hooked now. you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” he calls out to me and i bark out a laugh and slide into the drivers seat, closing the door behind me.

god, i hope not.

[whchenlvr]

Hi! I noticed that your request is still open, so I would like to ask how the union + eunjang boys react with reader, who was a well-known gang leader in middle school before disappearing for no apparent reason, I'm assuming that they learned of it because reader's former members approached them and perhaps tried to persuade them to return as their leader. The problem is that she retired so she could concentrate on her studies.

i’m sorry this took so long TT thank you for being so patient <3

when you’re a retired leader ;

weak hero x gn!reader

gray yeon

you were ranked first in your class until gray yeon.

you hated him at first, and the fact that he blatantly ignored you and your efforts to outsmart him left you fuming. you weren’t used to losing, let alone being second, so it took some getting used to.

you even followed gray to cram school one night, which really startled him, because he didn’t hear you behind him until you tapped his shoulder. that raised some red flags in his head, and it didn’t take long for gray to figure out who you really were.

he didn’t confront you. hell, he even helped you study. part of him wanted to just ignore your past as a gang leader, given how closed off you were about it, but that didn’t go as planned when one day you caught an article about you on his phone.

“what is that?” you asked uncomfortable before reaching over to snatch the device off his desk. gray figured there was no point in making excuses, so he shrugged.

“can’t blame me for doing some research on my friends, can you?”

ben park

there wasn’t much to say about you. you appeared out of thin air in high school, claiming to be a transfer student, but never telling where you transferred from.

ben was pretty welcoming when no one else was, and that’s why you got along. eugene knew who you were, but you made him swear not to tell anyone (you still had some dangerous connections, but you didn’t want to threaten anyone).

you and eugene managed to keep your past a secret for quite a while, and you nearly convinced yourself that you were in the clear. until one day…

“y/n?”

you’d been at a karaoke bar with ben and gerard, but recognized the voice instantly. you were admittedly a bit small for your age, but that hadn’t stopped you from bringing your school to the top. ben and gerard placed themselves between you and the previous members of your gang, ready to protect you if necessary. your members ignored this, too shocked to see you before them to react.

“you… we thought you died!” “why did you leave the gang?”

there it was.

“gang?” ben asked, and you faced your feet. when you had the courage to look up at him, you knew he recognized you. it was all over.

alex go

you were just some stranger alex ran into at the abandoned building. he was trying to find rooftop 2.0, not you: a figure clad in black kicking a pebble in the rubble. you didn’t seem very intimidating, so alex didn’t want to risk a fight and settled with a wave. “hi.” 

“hi..?” you said back, pulling your hoodie off. that was how you picked eunjang as your new school, and you tried your very best to keep your past under wraps. 

your hair had grown out since your notorious prime in the gang, and you’d decided to dye it right after running. you wanted to be normal. go to school, make friends, and have careless fun without looking over your shoulder 24/7. alex was good at turning your dreams into reality.

“y/n! you seem like someone who’s good at art. wanna go graffiti some abandoned buildings with me after school?” alex asked you one morning, and you decided to join. you didn’t realize that the “abandoned building” he mentioned was your old base, nor that the members of your gang still visited.

alex instantly prepared for a fight when he spotted the three guys, but their eyes were focused on you. “y/n?”

“you know these guys?!” alex shouted, but you ignored him. “i’m out, guys. we’ll leave. i don’t want any trouble.”

needless to say, alex didn’t ask you to hang out after the unusual reunion.

donald na

donald had his suspicions about you the second you stumbled across the union’s radar. he found it odd how the previous leader of a rival school disappeared, and then poof! there you were. he didn’t pry about your past but kept tabs on you in private.

you stayed quiet, making it known that focusing on your studies was your only interest. you initially wanted no part in the union, wanting to start over fresh and normally, but you’d happened to befriend kingsley kwan, and that was how donald found you.

an informant of his approached one day with photos of your social media, all deleted now, but nothing on the internet ever really goes away. it was proof that you weren’t who you claimed to be, and donald couldn’t help but grin at the opportunity to expose you.

“y/n,” donald sighed your name, and you froze. it was just the two of you in a room, and something in your gut told you to run. “what did you hope to achieve here, hm? infiltrate the union?”

“it wasn’t like that,” your voice came out more pleading, more pathetic than you’d hoped it would. “i wanted to start over.”

“and you couldn’t do that anywhere else? tell me, y/n, if you were in my position right now, would you believe yourself?” no, you wanted to admit. you never thought yourself weak, but donald unsettled you. he was unpredictable, unhinged.

“i’ll leave. i’ll never show my face again, just please don’t return me to them. if you do, they’ll… they’ll kill me.”

“when i’m done with you, you’ll wish you were dead.”

jake ji

eunchan liked you, which automatically made you part of jake’s group.

jake didn’t really acknowledge you at first, since he didn’t know anything about you. he tried asking you about your past once, and you instantly tensed up and blew it off, claiming you were from out of town. he didn’t believe that for a second but didn’t want to cause tension because you were eunchan’s friend.

when timothy found something regarding your hidden past, jake was the first and only person to know. though you hadn’t had the chance to get close to him, jake felt betrayed. he felt manipulated and he pitied eunchan.

“why did you lie?” he asked after cornering you one evening, and you felt the hairs on your neck raise. “lie about what?”

“don’t play dumb. i know who you are, y/n.”

you spun to face him and pressed a finger against jake’s chest. “who am i, then? a liar? just because i wanted to keep this part of me buried for good? am i a bad guy? cause look around, jake. you’re worse than i ever was.”

a bubble formed in jake’s throat, one he couldn’t swallow. “if this is some elaborate scheme to take over daehyeon, it won’t work.” it wasn’t. you knew it wasn’t, but there was no convincing jake otherwise. “fuck you, jake.”

“right back at you, y/n.”

wolf keum

wolf knew that the leader of a rival gang suddenly disappeared, but he had no idea it was you. the way you were described online versus how you were in real life were like two completely separate people, and you tried to keep it that way.

wolf won’t admit it, but he enjoyed your company. you didn’t talk much about yourself, but wolf didn’t mind because neither did he. it wasn’t until he was nearly jumped one day that his curiosity in your life peaked.

the three men who’d tried—and failed—to take him down showed him a picture. one of him and you. wolf’s fist tightened around the man’s shirt. “what do you want with y/n? if you hurt them, i swear—“

“y/n? n-no, that’s our leader!”

wolf blanched, releasing the man’s shirt and stepping over his broken body. he knew exactly where to find you, and your smile dropped when you realized he was bleeding. “wolf? what happen—“ he grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you towards him until your chests were practically touching. “tell me the truth. are you the leader of a gang? the gang attempting to destroy the union? destroy me?”

your breathing momentarily stopped. “wh… is that what you think?”

“it’s what i know. i want you to admit it.”

you couldn’t, because it wasn’t true; not anymore. “if you’re going to kill me, just do it.”

wolf chuckled, and fear prickled behind your eyes. “ah, y/n. not until you tell me everything.”

[imagineanime2022]

The Nurse

Akiko Yasano X Male!Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 843

Requested: Anon

Request: Original Request

The ADA found you by accident, you had been in the right place at the wrong time, one of the members got hurt and you were on shift that day. You worked at the local hospital, your ability made you work far easier than it would have been. Your ability allowed you to take the pain of an injury and store it within your body, to then unleash when your blood was spilled, the smell of your blood inflicted the pain and physical drawbacks of the injury that you had taken the pain of. The ADA offered you a position at the agency saying that you would work well with their doctor given how her ability worked.

That had been a few months ago now and you had been a part of the agency for a while when Atsushi joined in fact you walked in on his induction seeing him throw himself onto the bomb in order to save everyone in the room. “This is what you call an introduction?” You asked. “(Y/N)!” Dazai cheered as he jogged over and looped an arm around your shoulder. “You were supposed to be a hostage too.” “We both know that I’m no hostage.” You rolled your eyes, shrugging him off and walking towards the medical wing. “Plus Junichiro couldn’t throw me around the way that he does his sister.” “You don’t know that!?” Junichiro yelled. “You want to try?” You teased as you looked over your shoulder winking at him, his face turned red as he jumped away from the conversation as if it had burned him, you gave a soft chuckle and headed off to see Yasano.

You walked into her office putting the coffee and breakfast you had bought her on her desk. “Aww did you get me breakfast?” She asked. “Did you have breakfast this morning?” You asked. “Of course I did.” She smirked as she took the coffee off the table, sipping it and humming in approval. “You should stop lying to me.” You took a bite from the food that you had gotten yourself. “One day I won't believe you when you tell me the truth.” “You’ll always believe me.” She leaned forward on the desk and passed you half the papers that needed looking over “will you take half of these?”

It was only a few hours later that you got a call from Dazai “What do you want?” You asked. “Nice to talk to you too, Atsushi, Junichiro and Naomi are badly injured, make sure that you and Yasuno are ready.” He ordered. “Is it gross?” You asked. “Atsushi is missing a leg.” Dazai answered as you made a face nodding to yourself as Yasano stood from the desk moving towards her table to make sure that everything was ready. “Anyone already on death's door?” You asked. “Naomi is pretty bad.” He said. “Bring her in first then.” You said as you twisted your wrist. “Can you do three in one go?” Dazai asked. “Should be fine, just bring ‘em in, can't do anything when they’re out there.” You said hanging up the phone. “Will you be okay?” Yasano asked. “Probably.” You walked over to your chair at the head of the table as you waited for them to arrive.

They were right by the time that you had gotten to healing Atsushi you were flagging, you had been taking the pain for the treatment that Yasano was giving them and talking them through everything, you knew that this one was going to be the most difficult because he had never been through this before “Hey Atsushi, you think you can relax for me?” You asked. “What happened?” He asked. “You lost your leg.” You answered honestly as Yasano moved around the table “we’re going to fix it but you have to trust us, you think that you can do that?” “Y-yeah…” He answered, you placed your hand on either shoulder as the pink flowers bloomed across his already present wound, Yasano started her work when the flowers turned white denoting that the pain had been redirected. “How are you holding up?” You asked. “I’m fine, I can’t feel anything… Is that bad!?” He asked as he attempted to get up, you pushed him down. “That’s my ability, don't worry about that, it’s just helpful considering everything that the doc has to do to heal you.” “Almost done kid.” Yasano said as she reached her hand out, as she started healing, you were starting to sway, yours fluttering before you crashed to the floor.

You groaned as you opened your eyes, you were lying on one of the hospital beds “you pushed yourself again kid, we talked about this, sometimes they are just going to have to do without you.” Yasano muttered as she looked at you. “Yeah I know.” You muttered as you sat up “but he’s new I thought that I’d be okay since he was pretty simple.” “Just be more careful.” She ordered. “Yes Ma’am.” You smiled “next time I will be more careful.”

Request Here!!

[skylarmoon71]

Leonardo (TMNT 2014/2016) - Chapter 3

You and Leo had this unspoken agreement.

It feels like he'd long given up on trying to change your views. Either that or he was using a more passive approach. Whenever you saw him the conversations were casual. More steered towards personal interests or goals. Maybe it was a figment of your imagination, but sometimes his eyes would linger on you just a little longer when you showed up after long stretches of time. He knew that you operated out of the country. As much as he didn't agree with your lifestyle, he couldn't exactly stop you.

"I told Vincent about our meetings."

He expected some kind of reaction. Possibly a look of betrayal. But you just smile.

"You're loyal, but fair. Otherwise you wouldn't be standing here telling me. I'd be getting ambushed by cops right about now. Instead you're warning me." Leo shook his head.

"I would never tell them about this place." The sentiment is nice.

"Your family probably thinks I'm a monster."

"They don't." You scoff. But when you look at him, his face holds no lies. He's not trying to offer you little comforts.

"They understand what you do. Even though we don't agree, they understand. I'm not exactly sure who you lost or how. But I understand. "

It's possible that he can read you because of the tight bond he has with his brothers. He knows that if something were to happen to any of them, then he's not sure what route he would take to avenge them. The same way you seem to be doing right now."

"My sister." Leo's eyes lift.

"I lost my sister." You confess.

"I thought so."

It all came down to family at the end of the day.

"I just wanted to ask for a favor." Leo says.

"I'm listening."

He looks resolved, and it's a bit worrying.

"If anything were to ever happen to me, would you look out for my family." He knows he has no right to ask such a thing, but this part of him would never stop being protective. Your mind goes back to a case he'd been discussing. It must be the reason behind his request. The thought of harm coming to Leo triggers some very unsettling feelings.

"Nothing is going to happen to you. You're way too stubborn for that." Leo smiles.

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I am."

That was the last conversation you had before you went on your two week trip to Vermont to eliminate a serial rapist who was taking pleasure in the pain he caused his young victims. Maybe if he'd been the least bit apologetic you would have handed him over to the police. You weren't a monster. Contrary to popular belief, hurting people was a last resort for you. You'd dealt with situations where some of them didn't have a choice.

But this man, he'd taken you as his victim. At least he thought so. He hadn't truly realized that he was actually the prey. When he'd driven you back to his place, you played the role too. Even confronted him. Instead of the apology you were hoping to get from him when he realized you were in control, he laughed in your face and bragged about all the pain he would cause when he eventually got out of prison. He was rich and influential. His lawyers would pay off the victims and the hurt would continue. So you did what you had to do. Even when he was staring down the barrel of a gun he mocked you. That was the first time you had to close your eyes as you did it. You should have been unaffected. He was a literal monster. Yet you felt pain. 

Actual grief.

It's then you concluded that Leo's influence was actually having an effect on you. More than you realized.

You'd intended to see him, maybe his face would give you some peace or solace. The news of your most recent mission spread like wildfire. You had no doubt Leo would confront you about it. But that night when you got back, he was nowhere to be found.

It wasn't strange. He had responsibilities. No flags were going off in your head.

Not until three days passed and there was still no word.

That's when you went on a deep dive.

To your surprise there had been over three minor robberies in the neighborhood. You knew better than to ignore that. Leo was too much of a foot soldier to let innocent people get taken advantage of that way. That's why when you walked right into the precinct, and officers led you to Vincent's office, you could tell she was stunned. The door closed, and instinctively, her hand moved to her waist, right next to her gun.

"You must be pretty ballsy to walk right into my precinct. " She looked pissed, you didn't blame her.

"Where is he?"

"Who exactly are you referring to?" Vincent hissed.

"I'm not here to play games. If I wanted to kill you I had a lot of opportunities. I could have done it at that grocery store with your favorite ice cream brand. Maybe the golfing club that your husband plays at every Monday and Thursday." You could see the fear cross her face.

"I don't expect you to understand what I do. I don't want your understanding or pity. I could care less about harming you or anyone you care about. I only go after people that deserve to be in the ground. All I want right now is to find out who took Leonardo."

Her body was still pretty tense, but she lowered her hands. Eyes falling in defeat. It's clear that she realized that at this moment you were an asset. She ran a hand through her hair.

"I can't believe this. I should be arresting you."

"You can, but that won't help Leonardo."

You were right. She knew that. Vincent grabbed a folder, flipping it open and you moved closer, taking it from her hands.

"Last week we were chasing some leads about a company trying to import more of that green ooze that created the boys in the first place. The mutagen that caused their transformation. We thought that we'd gotten all of it and had it destroyed, but we were wrong. A scientist got his hands on what remained from the last little showdown. Leo and the others were ambushed and they took him. "

You tracked every bit of information you could from what was in front of you.

"We have lists of multiple locations. We've raided a half dozen of them and confiscated toxic waste. But there's no sign of Leonardo. I'm running out of ideas and his brothers are..they're scared. For all we know he could be dead." She looks shaken by the thought.

"You actually care about him." Vincent's face twisted.

"Of course I do!!"

"I thought you were just using him for your agenda." Vincent huffed when you placed the folder down.

'I don't have to explain myself to a killer."

"Call me what you want, I'm going to get him." Vincent's brows are knitted.

"What are you talking about?" Her eyes looked down on the image you'd stopped on. It was a company that worked on the outskirts of the city.

"He's at that company. The facts point to that location. From the lack of scribbles I'd guessed that's one that you haven't raided yet." She took the image.

"We haven't.."

"He's there. Whatever he has in his veins they want from what you just told me. Those buildings have electrical links to circuits outside the city. That means they have a power source that'll give them access to do as they please without so much as a peep. "

She didn't want to admit it, but you were right.

"I'm going to get him." You were turning to leave.

"W-Wait! You can't just run in there. We need probable cause, and a warrant. "

"You do. I'm not a cop. If Leo is there, I'll cut down who I have to. His safety is the only thing I care about." As heartless as you were trying to make yourself seem. She could see it on your face.

"It sounds like I'm not the only one who cares about him." You gripped the handle of the door.

"You should hurry up and grab your warrant Lieutenant. Cause I'm going to light that place up." You exited after those words, and Vincent just released a heavy sigh as she pulled out her phone, dialing a number.

"Yeah, we got a lead. How soon can you all meet me?"

Leo may not realize it, but he had an entire army coming to save him.

[gossipsnake]

TIMING: Current PARTIES: Anita (@gossipsnake) and Mateo (@fearhims3lf) SUMMARY: Anita and Mateo find themselves at the same bar, both looking to add a bit of excitement to their evening. Things don't exactly go as planed. CONTENT WARNINGS: WR Spice (implied).

Sometimes the clubs were a tired scene. Even on a night light this, with the DJ pumping out some fairly decent music (for this town, anyway), a crowded dance floor, and heavy pours from the bartenders; Anita felt uninspired. The polite rejections from the few, evidently straight, women she had hit on already were expected and didn’t bother her in the slightest. The bother came from somewhere inside of her. She wondered if this is what some women had meant when they had told her that one day she would get old and grow tired of her own games. That certainly couldn’t be it she told herself. No, this was just an off night. It happened. 

She decided that, after she finished off the remainder of the drink in her hands, she would simply go home. The person who had been sitting beside her got up from the bar stool after sliding some cash over to the bartender to close out their tab. With just a few sips left, Anita decided it was probably a good idea to flag the bartender down now and ask for the bill given how busy the night was. As she waited for them to come back around, someone new sat down beside her. Anita turned to look at the heavily tattooed man still donning dark sunglasses despite being inside and almost instinctively rolled her eyes a bit. 

Wicked’s Rest was known for many things, even a decent bar scene, but what it lacked was exactly what Mateo had wanted to do in the first place. A proper punk scene that wasn’t filled with posers who had never heard a single song by the people they garnished on their t-shirts. Sure, the designs were cool and everybody was entitled to their own fashion sense, but the least the town could do was offer a few people who actually knew what being a punk meant. 

What Mateo got instead, much to his dismay, was a loud club with mediocre, overplayed music that he could only mildly tolerate. He decided a few drinks would help, and maybe a little chaos toward the woman who seemed all too unhappy that Mateo sat down next to her. She probably wanted someone more her taste, he thought. Or maybe she didn’t like being elbow-to-elbow with strangers. But that was the price you paid when you went out to a club, and having just gotten a good check, Mateo figured he could pay a little extra if it got him to a good time.

“Either you are having a bad night or you really hate my style,” Mateo gestured to the patches on his battle vest, requesting a whiskey neat. “And lemme tell ya, I got decent style. So what’s your deal, ma?” He raised his glass, taking a short sip. “Tell me all your troubles.”

Had it been anyone else or any other cliche line, Anita would likely have blown this guy off and just paid the tab and left without even responding to his comments. But there was something too familiar about him, bad familiar that is. Maybe she was just in the exact wrong mood, maybe she was projecting, but the presumptive energy she felt from how he had approached her made her want to respond. “So I’m either in a bad mood or I’m judgmental? Those the only options?” Anita decided to ignore the obvious irony of the fact that both options happened to be true - he didn’t know that. 

She scoffed softly, her face unable to mask its rather dramatic reaction to his come on. Sometimes when men flirted with Antia at bars she ignored them. Sometimes she flirted back, especially if she wanted to lure them out into the woods for a meal. And on rare occasion, she elected to antagonize them. Ignoring wasn’t really an option any more, so now she just had to decide which of the other two she wanted to go with. “My current troubles stem from the fact that this place is very tired. The music is tired, the people are tired, and quite frankly these lines you’re using are tired. I get it, I’m sure the rebellious guapo vibes work really well on all these local girls. But,” she trailed off letting the shrug of her shoulders and her expression finish the sentence. After all, she certainly wasn’t a local girl. 

__ 

“Those are the only options I got from this very limited interaction. I’m sure there’s more than meets the eye, but I don’t got a lot to work with.” Mateo leaned cutely onto his palm, giving his seat neighbor wide, doe eyes. Laughter fell out of him, unable to keep the lame facade he was displaying for the fun of it. With another sip of his drink, he raised his hands in surrender and chuckled. “Mira, mira. If you’re not into me, fine. Your loss, and honestly, my loss too, but at least do me the honor of having a drink with me. Since you know, this place is tired and everything is tired. I can make it fun. That’s what I do.”

Mateo knew this to be true because of three reasons. First, anytime he was given charge of the night, it typically ended with some sort of pleasure. Whether it be through intimacy with a stranger or finding an abandoned building to tag, Mateo was a master at finding what people enjoyed. Hell, he’d been through enough minds to know the lengths people go to to not let their mind wander during their sleep. Second, laughter usually surrounded him. That one was easy. But third, and most importantly, his rebellious nature was oftentimes infectious. People need a little push when it comes to breaking the rules, or making new ones. Mateo was one of the best at it. 

“And just to be clear, these vibes work on all types of people. Not just women.” He winked, turning to lean on the bar and look at the dance floor. It was looking bleak. Which gave Mateo an idea. “Let’s ditch this place. If you’re tired of it, I think I got just the club to go to. But…” Trailing off, the mare shrugged, making a face of faux concern. “You can’t be scared of the possibility of someone biting you. ‘Cause lemme tell ya, it’s a weird place, but the people are fun and fine.” He paused, downing the rest of his drink. “And don’t worry. I won’t hit on you. But maybe we can find someone that’s a bit more…your style.”

The more this man talked the more Anita, begrudgingly, saw their similarities. She really had pulled these same fucking moves before. By her own logic, did that mean her moves were getting a bit tired? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see what kind of fun he thought he could conjure up. “Oh? That’s what you do, huh? Alright… I’ll be the judge of that.” Lately she had been feeling like she was in somewhat of a rut. She was fast approaching the four-year mark here in town and she hadn’t really stayed anywhere much longer than that since she left home. 

Anita knew, deep down, that if she was going to actually make this place her home she needed to switch things up - she needed to do more. “Oh, I don’t doubt that they do,” she said with a soft smirk, especially since she knew first hand how much pull the overly confident mysterious stranger vibe had. He, admittedly, genuinely caught her interest at the biting comment. There were so many ways that could go in a town like this: kinky or murderous. Both of which were things she quite enjoyed. “That really does not scare me in the slightest. What would be scary is if there's a place in town like that and I hadn’t stumbled upon it before.” 

As he finished the rest of his drink, Anita finished up closing out her tab. Unsure of where the night was about to take her, she felt a rush of excitement. Something to break through the monotony was just what she needed. “Imma hold you to that promise, cause no matter how hard you try I’m really far too gay for this whole thing to work on me,” she said, gesturing generally in his direction as she got off the bar stool and grabbed her coat. “Vamos. Lidera el camino, papito.” 

Mateo shrugged at the biting comment, knowing all too well how true her statement was. If that wasn’t an experience a citizen had had yet, even in just a week, the mare was sure they were the luckiest person on earth, doing the biting themselves, or worse…a recluse. Granted, Mateo stayed inside most days just because people were so annoying or boring, but he at least ventured out enough to cause a little chaos every time he did. Just like that night, where he was going to drag his new friend to Dance Macabre and see what kind of mess they can get into. His month-long banishment was over a week ago, and he was just itching to see what sort of clientele there would be that night. 

“All right, mamacita. Hope you’re good with a bike ride.” Not that it really mattered. She told Mateo to take the lead, and by god, he did. Going so far as to wrap her arms around him just before taking off in a hasty manner so she couldn’t protest. The last thing he needed was someone flying off his bike because they thought the wrap-around was a flirt. There was a dance floor to get to, and in a matter of minutes, Mateo had gotten them parked and entered into Dance Macabre. Two people were fighting and being dragged away, and another group was looking like they were about to have another fight of their own. Mateo smiled and pulled Anita with him, leading her to the bar for a few drinks, and then to the dance floor so they could feel the thrum of the bass rumble in their chests. 

“Better music, right?!” He had to yell. There was no way Anita would be able to hear him through the bumping bodies and the club music. Mateo wasn’t even sure if it was actually better, if he were honest. But it certainly wasn’t dead like the other place. The floor was packed, and there were plenty of cuties that were ripe for picking. Depending on what Anita was hungry for, of course. He thought back on her comment and smirk from before, hoping she was one of his theories. Specifically the kind of person who does the biting in Wicked’s Rest. 

Anita grinned as the bike began to slow around Dance Macabre, if for no other reason than being pleased that there was not some other club known for a bit of a bitey atmosphere that she was somehow unaware of. She had been there a fair amount of times, usually dragging Metzli with her so she wasn’t so obviously out of place with her beating heart and mortality. She knew the club was open to everyone, technically, and that even those without any real knowledge about the supernatural found themselves there from time to time, but it did make her wonder about the guy she arrived with … 

For a nightclub geared towards the undead, the place was certainly a lot livelier than the bar they had come from. Anita looked around the club, trying to see if anyone she knew was hanging around - that way she at least had somewhere to go in the event she wanted to ditch this guy later on. “Louder, that’s for sure.” She wasn’t intentionally trying to be difficult, but she also wasn’t exactly actively suppressing her difficult tendencies. 

“Think I remember you saying something about buying me a drink,” she said with a playful grin, eager to get a cool glass of tequila in her hands. “You got a usual at a place like this?” Anita wasn’t gonna show her hand first, but she knew that this place served… unique drinks for its unique clients. She was curious to see just how much she had in common with this guy. 

__ 

Anita gave a snarky comment and Mateo rolled his eyes dramatically to show that he wasn’t taking it to heart. She was in a bigger hole that he originally thought, and by the looks of it, she was the one holding the shovel. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d gotten her heart broken or if she was just so done with the club life that she was starting to feel…lonely? Ew. No. Too deep. Mateo shook his head at himself and gave Anita a thumbs up as he made his way back to the bar for some much needed tequila. He just needed to get this woman laid.

“Here. My usual. Sorta. I just drink straight liquor. Whiskey. But this works too.” He smiled and handed two of the four double shots to Anita. Looking around, Mateo took a quick scan to see what kind of ladies were on the dance floor. A few cuties, sure, but if Anita was having this much attitude, Mateo knew he had to find someone that could really shut her ass up. “You.” Mateo grinned, taking both of his shots at once and pulling Anita with him once she had taken hers. They were face to face with a woman whose looks could compete with Kate Siegel. Well, if she had red eyes. They weren’t glowing, so Mateo figured she was a vampire. He hoped Anita could handle that and nudged her. “Have…you met Anita?” 

Within seconds of Mateo stepping away towards the bar, Antia got an aching feeling that this was just a bad idea. What were the two of them even going to do, wing-person the other? Anita was a solo bird, she didn’t need the gust of wind from someone else to throw her off course. Before she could fly away, however, he had returned with two very full glasses of clear liquid. Her suspicions were answered within seconds of pulling the glass towards her face, the sweet tinge of tequila filling her senses. She shot the glass back, pleased with the quality of the liquor he had picked. It burned as it went down, but it was the good kind of burn. 

“Okay, that shit was good. That bought you like,” Anita paused, pulling out her phone and looking at the time, “25 minutes of my time.” It seemed like a good idea to put a possible clear end to the evening because even though the music was far better here and the crowd was more vibrant, it still felt a bit tired. Before she could get another word in, however, she was being pulled through the crowd by a very cold hand and being propelled forward towards a devastatingly beautiful brunette. “What are we in an early 2000s sitcom?” Anita asked in response to his awful Barney Stinson impression, unaware if it was intentional or not. “I’m sorry, I swear I usually hang out with a much cooler crowd,” she offered to the other woman as she felt a small twinge of what felt like embarrassment. “I’m Anita, and… obviously we’ve never met before because I know I would have remembered that.” 

She turned back towards Mateo and shot him a piercing look. Her frustration was only exasperated when the other woman began to speak, “If this is your guys’ way of trying to get a third, you can drop the whole act. I’m not very fond of having so much… warmth in my bed.” The comment was pointedly directed at Anita which elicited a bit of an eye roll from the lamia. Some people were so pretentious, and coming from her that was saying something. “Well this was fun,” she said with a bit of a huff as she headed off back towards the bar. The rejection at least fueled enough righteous indignation in her that she was determined to not go home alone. 

Okay, so Mateo knew the impression was a little much and would likely be to Anita’s detriment, but at least it was fun. Would probably knock a few minutes off though, which meant he had to put his efforts into double time and not just be an ass. Ugh. Maybe he shouldn’t have stoked the fire and made it worse though. Anita was walking back toward him, and she looked pissed.

“Okay, so she wasn’t the one to make your night better, but I bet we can find someone else.” He tapped his chin, doing another sweep of the room and finding a red-head with normal eyes. She had just finished kissing another woman, but what of it? Mateo knew how inebriated club goers could be. He just hoped his assumptions could be proven true. 

“What about her? She’s cute and she…doesn’t have the same eyes as that chick over there. Probably friendlier, and I won’t do the pickup line this time, I promise.” Without another word, Mateo once again pulled Anita with him, dodging patrons left and right until he landed in front of the stranger. He smiled and waved with spirit fingers to appear friendly. The woman laughed and did it in return. Mocking or not, Mateo wasn’t sure, but a laugh was a laugh and he was going with it. “Hi,” She parroted the greeting in return. “I’m trying to show my friend here that not all fun is lost in the world. Do you think you can help me?” She gave Anita a once over and sipped her drink with a smile, waving a sweet hello. Already a good start. “See?” Mateo looked back at Anita with a smug look on his face. “I bet our luck is turning up right now.”

In all genuineness, Anita couldn't quite figure out why this guy was doing all this. Putting so much effort into helping someone else pick up women. Even the very few times Anita had gone out to clubs with other people she was almost always the first to cut and run off on her own sleazy adventures. She didn’t want to keep wasting any time thinking about his motivations, however, because now she felt like she had something to prove both to the vampire who had rejected her and to herself. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Anita said with a soft indifference as she waited for the bartender to pour her another double shot of tequila. She shot the liquor back just before she felt Mateo tug her arm again, leading them off in the direction of the redhead he had pointed out. In the few seconds it took for them to get through the crowd, Anita plastered on a smile and forced herself to at least give off some level of interesting energy. “He’s being dramatic, I don’t think all fun is lost in the world. Just think there’s a lack of it this evening.”

With a flick of her wrist, Anita waved him off after he made a comment about luck, electing not to vocalize her inherently negative reaction to his use of the word our. She talked with the redhead for a few beats, until a new song came on and the other woman grabbed her waist and started dancing, Anita smirked, taking the opportunity to close the distance between the two of them. She was caught up in the movement that she didn’t even realize when another woman came up behind them and grabbed Anita by the hair pulling her away while yelling, “Get you’re own fucking meal, she’s spoken for!” 

Immediately she began to try and wriggle out of the very strong grasp, trying to get her footing before shit got real messy. In doing so, Anita accidently pushed the two of them into another group of people who stumbled forward, causing them to spill their drinks on a few other people who were dancing nearby; starting a chain reaction of anger to spread through the club. 

It was a job well done when the red-head and Anita started talking, turning into a great job done when they headed toward the floor to dance. Mateo treated himself to a few shots that he felt were well-deserved. With a sigh of relief, he took them all in quick succession and watched as his meet-cute danced the evening away. “What a night.” He chuckled, about to take one more shot when he saw a very angry-looking woman making a beeline toward his acquaintance. “Ah, shit.” His face turned into a grimace when Anita’s hair was pulled, and he immediately sprung into action. 

Well, after taking his final shot. It was already paid for. 

“Hey! Hey, quit that shi—” Drinks splashed onto him and several other patrons, some getting more drenched than others. Mateo was thankful to only have one wet sleeve because had he been like the others who were getting visibly pissed, he would’ve gone straight to pushing with them. “Run!” He waved to Anita to get her attention, the motion interrupted when a guy sent a punch straight to his face. He returned the favor in earnest, sending the man backwards into another group of people with very full drinks. “Fuck…” Mateo winced, reaching for Anita’s wrist and tugging her into a small break in the crowd. It closed almost just as quickly as they ran through it, anger rising enough to turn the room into a full-blown brawl. 

“We have to get the fuck—wait, what are you doing?” The red-head had apparently grabbed onto Anita and Mateo was giving her an irritated glare that slowly dissipated and turned into a grin as he realized she was probably just trying to get out of the chaos. He dodged a glass that flew through the air, missing the other that made contact on his chest. Okay, getting Anita laid would have to wait until they were outside. “Let’s go.”

 The woman loosened her grip on Anita’s hair just enough as the other patrons began to get involved, cursing the people who had caused them to spill blood and other liquor onto the floor and themselves. She manager to wiggle out from the grasp, and immediately began plotting her escape. Sure, she could have let the rattlesnake out and barreled through the crowd and out to the street but it seemed like drawing less attention to herself was likely the better outcome. 

Much to her surprise, Mateo hadn’t just cut and run at the first sight of trouble like she likely would have done. Instead he came to Anita’s aid, pushing through the crowd to get to her and pull her out from the center of the chaos that was unfolding. Almost as if it were a carefully choreographed scene, the two - no three of them slid in and out of the crowd and carefully towards a back exit to the club. Other than a sore scalp and what would likely amount to a few bruises in the morning, Anita had somehow managed to keep her human form mostly unharmed. 

Without hesitating once they made it to the door, Anita pushed it open and quickly hurried outside looking back to make sure Mateo was close behind her. She turned over towards the redhead, more than a bit surprised that she had decided to follow them out. “Not sticking around to help your girlfriend?” It seemed unlikely that they were actually dating given how the other woman called her a meal, but Anita wasn’t one to judge. 

The back door swung open again with force as several other patrons seemed to be fleeing the scene. She caught a glimpse of what was going on inside and could tell that thighs were getting even more intense. “I know it’s your fault for putting us in this situation to begin with, but uh, thank you for helping me get outta there,” she said in earnest to Mateo. It was a classic Anita compliment: starting out with a vague insult to maintain an impression that she didn’t give a shit followed by the actual message of appreciation. “I think we should maybe all get the fuck out of here before the fight in there spills out this way…” 

The red-head, who had revealed her name to be Caroline, shook her head empathetically at the word girlfriend. It seemed the other woman’s choice of words cost her greatly, and she’d be heading home with an empty stomach. Meanwhile, Mateo had successfully led a woman straight to Anita’s bed. Now it was a job greatly done. And he only had to get punched with a few drinks to his face. Not a bad night by his standards. 

“I'm not the one who pulled your hair. Besides, I saw a hot woman and I led you to her, and now you’re gonna have a fun night, which is what I said I’d do.” Mateo arched a brow toward Caroline, who nodded shyly. “See?” He let out a laugh and waved Anita off as he retrieved his wallet for some twenty dollars. “Take this for your ride home. Don’t got room for three on my bike, and I got other places to be for some more chaos.” Tilting his shades down, Mateo revealed his glowing red eyes and bounced his brows playfully before sauntering his way back to his bike.

“Have fun ladies.”

[kyra45]

How to spot a scam blog

Hi! I’m Jess/Key and this post is meant to give you the basics on how to quickly spot a scam post. A scam blog is a blog that has saved their post contents from offsite (usually Facebook) and has reposted it here with no indication it’s not actually theirs. Not all blogs asking for aid are scam accounts, but unfortunately their quite common and have been common for a long while now. They often target users who use certain tags or those who fell for the scheme once before. This guide and info work better if you have time stamps turned on. Real accounts needing help generally will be easily able to show legitimacy without needing this list.

As always, all info I supply is free to access but tips are appreciated! I do this to teach users how to quickly spot a scam account and how to deal with them before they take off with money sent to them by unaware users. Unfortunately many users have lost money to scammers without being aware of it until it’s too late. So please share this post to anyone who may have shared a scam post if it’s following the general guidelines I’ve explained here.

The ask says to answer privately - A common theme now is the ask sent requests you to answer privately. This is usually done because the scammer doesn’t want anyone to look up the ask and see it’s been sent to many users. If you actually need help, don’t send asks like this! The ask always urgently requests you to donate right then and there and says if you can’t then please share the pinned post. This is often an instant red flag for a pet scam.

The blog is only a few hours old - Often, the account that sends you the ask is very new. A quick scroll through the account reveals only a few posts here and there that seems to be from a trending tag but aren’t tagged. Closer inspection would show these posts are reblogged all within the same amount of time and then no more after the pinned post is made. This is also a red flag for a pet scam if the pinned post is for an animal.

The pinned post has replies off - Having replies off isn’t anything usually too suspicious, but usually can be considered that if the account isn’t too old and is sending multiple asks. If some replies were removed but is turned off, then it’s likely for a reason.

The username is based off the animal - Another common rising theme is the account name is based on the name of the animal being used in the post combined with the address given in the post. While this isn’t really anything too odd, it’s still rather peculiar.

The vet bill doesn’t match - Inspect the images provided of the vet bill. You may quickly notice they don’t match the supplied information given in the post and may give away the pictures were taken from an entirely different animal themselves. You could also see the actual name of the owner isn’t the one in the address though the blog could make an address to look like the vet bill.

Search the username/address/ask - With luck, a quick search on tumblr of all the info you’ve seen on the account themselves will likely show you proof that what you’ve seen is actually a scam account. This means the user sending the ask has stolen their images and story off another place and is trying to pass off the animal as their own. If an anonymous user explains to you how it’s a scam, please search before you demand evidence because it’s likely all the info you need is already accessible.

Other info - Scam accounts tend to turn off their askbox so no one can send asks. They may still have messaging enabled so people can ask for proof that way. Unfortunately, any proof of legitimacy the scammer tries to send you this way is also stolen from offsite and in no way proves real. Reverse image search does not work on images posted in private places.

[lilyoffandoms]

as someone that gets much art commissions are there artists you do not work with or artists you recommend?

Oh okay. Um. So, my answer would be yes to both questions. I know there are plenty of us out there that have commissioned artists and have been let down in one way or another by them but I don’t share the artists I will not commission publicly. I’m happy to have a talk privately if you’d like but it has to be off anon. That’s just my personal rule.

As for artists I highly recommend, I’ll create a lovely list soon. Very soon because I do so love love love artists!! I just don’t want to put them here beside the first half of this ask.

[Edit for link to recs]

That being said, there are somethings I can share that have prevented me from commissioning certain artists. Basically a red flag sort of list but it’s entirely personal to me and maybe not at all accurate across the board. I will say, since I started using it two years ago, I’ve managed to have only absolutely pleasant and amazing commissioning experiences.

I look for artists that share their art commissions on their socials or reblog/tweet those works from their commissioners. It gives me a sense of what they will be able and willing to do for my commission. And a sense of how they treat those that commission them.

I look for artists that mutuals have commissioned. Personal references like this are my favorite ways to find new artists.

I look for artists with dos and wonts for their art. Knowing what they are willing and not willing to create for me before walking into a more in-depth conversation saves me time and more importantly saves them time.

I look for artists that tell me exactly how I’ll pay and when payment is expected. This varies for each artists.

I look for artists that will have conversations with me and not just nod and say “mhmm” “yeah sure”. Basically, those that appear to have a genuine interest in my request. It may be a job or source of extra income for many, but you can usually tell if they take pride in their work. And will take pride in your commission request.

Unless it’s an artist I’ve worked with before or I have been given the art prior to payment (this is a crazy rare occurrence) I will never pay via paypal.me and will always click the option that it is for goods or services. That gives me, the purchaser, more protection and legal means to get my money back if the artist doesn’t provide the agreed upon work. BUT, and I really really wanna stress this, I will always always pay extra to the artists in order to cover the additional fees that paypal will then charge them.

And honestly, if you find artists you like or your friends like, commission all the art from them. There is no shame in sticking with favorites or even sticking with those familiar to you.

[charlesangels03]

"And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

A play of this very quote found in the later parts of the novel "The Alchemist: by Paulo Coelho to reference it, “When you really want something, the universe always conspires in your favor,” is the particular variation I’m acquainted with. It is one that I have since lived by when I first stumbled upon it years ago on social media - Pinterest or Instagram, I no longer remember. It became a grounding of my faith in myself and the forces that bend the whims of reality to have the stars wink at me.

I’d like to believe that I am a person with thousands of possibilities; some of which I’m already living. However, rainbows are not for everyday ventures as there are times that I doubt my capacity to fulfill my aspirations and give myself the life I want. I am not special in experiencing this dilemma, but its impact of rendering me stunned and unable to act flags an implication of its potential to ruin my momentum - to hinder me from realizing my visions.

The line, therefore, is a personal favorite on two accounts: familiarity and comfort.

As stipulated above, I am acquainted with the quote but only very recently traced its origins to the novel. With years of exposure, I feel more affinity to it than with the other philosophies found within the pages of the story. It has shared moments with me, becoming a source of encouragement, simply because I know of it and I have already understood it.

This does not mean that I closed off my agency to resonate with new input, but time surely has influenced the solidification of my stance. I’ve internalized its message and built a connection in which this ideology is where my mind circles back every time something goes right. Referencing back and remembering embedded the words above in my heart, carving a cozy little spot where it would snuggle there forever.

Moreover, there is comfort in believing that you are not alone. Whether this belief may be manifested through prayers and requests to a higher being, following superstitions, or simply hoping that the stars align and grant you that one special wish is fine. It is comfort, regardless of whether it materializes in a physical vessel.

It is no secret that life has a tendency to play tricks on people, rendering us to feel powerless and at its mercy. In dark cases of my life where I am struck with fear and freeze, the quote has always lent me the courage to break free from the shackles that meant nothing but to hold me down and to chase my dreams despite the vision becoming murky at times. It is its ability to feel like a hug, reassuring and encouraging, that has kept me going to several degrees.

With the dramatic changes in my life from the moment I entered college, there was not a single thing I asked for that wasn’t given to me. To clarify, my life is not perfect and I commit mistakes just as any person does, but this is a prominent observation from me. I do not understand how or why, but if I don’t get what I silently wish for in its exact form, a similar opportunity presents itself as an alternative.

It would be an act of wearing rose-colored glasses to say that this was all a product of hours and hours on end romanticizing my life and manifesting for things to go my way. In reality, it’s a combination of that and my own perseverance to take the necessary steps for things to come into fruition. It was never just the quote and belief. I also tend to pair the line with another that I’ve learned somewhere in the depths of the internet rabbit hole as well. It goes somewhere along the lines of, “If good things really want to come into your life, you have to make space for it.”

Just like Santiago, the story's main character, and the novel, it was a matter of knowing when and where to look for me, complemented by my hard work in letting the universe to, in fact, conspire in my favor. This belief, no matter how idyllic, that the cosmic forces will do everything in their power to grant me what I asked for brings this sense of warm comfort that I will never be denied my dreams should I invest in them. Ergo, the line not only causes me to think of circumstances at play but calls me to action to persist in realizing my aspirations, knowing that in the end even if I fail, I am never denied but only redirected.

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Charles' Fifth Week Blogging Entry - Skill-based