#if they had actually done ANYTHING to make sense of what i was ACTUALLY experiencing instead of giving me a fucking cop out answer

[pepprs]

ok so. today i am going to

fly (and travel at all) by myself for the first time since making the emergency return home from br!ghton bc of c0vid 4 years ago (extremely distressing and scary experience). and fly by myself two weeks after a mixed bag of a conference experience / plane ride home that included a massive scary depressive spiral that i had someone there to help me through as much as they could but it wasn’t enough which was absolutely not their fault but was deeply distressing to me at the time. so im about to be in a very similar environment but this time that person won’t be physically with me and it’s going to wreck my brain in multiple directions in part bc i have not yet recovered from the depressive spiral. i am still in it. lawl <3

ride in an uber by myself for the first time. ride in an uber at all for maybe the 5th time. as a very short young woman. which i have been expressedly warned by my parents not to do. lol <3

check into a hotel by myself for the first time

walk in a big city by myself for the first time (technically slightly untrue bc wjen i was last in ch!cago 5 years ago i did power walk from the hotel to the conference venue (like a block away) on the last day bc i was pissed about a situation but that was like… a block and i saw ppl i knew walking in that area. this time i will be in the same city and know no one at least for today

give myself a self care evening at the recommendation of my therapist…. for the first time. (maybe after i take a walk which i will do specifically when it’s still light out to see what the area is like). tonight no one i know will be in ch!cago yet and i have no plans to do anything. im going to play video games and draw and sing and give myself space and time to just enjoy being by myself and see how it goes

[melaks]

wow i get it now.

[movie-robotnik-positivity]

I don't think Robotnik ever saw Stone's affection as genuine. He's used to people only valuing him if he's useful. His own bosses call him a freak, yet they put up with him because of his "perfect operation record". He isn't even shocked when he learns the goverment erased him, he expected it and had a contingency plan ready.

He keeps calling Stone a sycophant and a barnacle, because why else would someone stay with him if not to gain something? Clearly, Stone is just a suck-up wanting to ride his coattails. And Ivo is fine with that! He gets his ego stroked and in return Stone gets a slice of the world-domination pie. Mutually beneficial!

This symbiotic relationship gives Ivo a sense of control and ensures that Stone won't abandon him like everyone else. It also keeps him detached: of course Stone waited months or him to return from space, that's his job. His admiration is inevitable, and meaningless.

Ivo develops a genuine, irrational attachment to Stone, one he's able to rationalize as just being transactional. Those emotional walls shield him from the fear of abandonment that comes with caring for another person.

Except...even after Robotnik becomes a liability, Stone stays. There's no benefit, no plans of ruling humanity, not even a paycheck. Yet despite everything, Ivo tries to keep the old boss/employee dynamic going. He can't fathom the idea that someone would stay for anything other than convenience.

Then Gerald shows up, and for the first time Ivo allows himself to put down those walls. As an orphan he had built up this idealized image of family that he thought he could never have. People will use you then toss you aside when convenient, but family? Family is different. Family will always be there for you and love you no matter what. Family won't abandon you.

And suddently Stone's grovelling is no longer necessary. Why would he need someone who just pretends to like him when he now has all the unconditional love he's always longed for? That's obviously why Stone got so jealous, it couldn't have been real concern, he was just afraid of losing his comfy position as the lapdog of humanity's new king. Between a sycophant and family, the choice felt obvious.

And, of course, Gerald turns out to be just like everyone else in Ivo's life: just another person trying to get something from him. The second he stopped being useful, he was tossed aside.

His image of family is once again shattered, but those emotional walls are already down. Now that Ivo experienced that betrayal he was so afraid of, now that he's about to die, he's finally able to be honest with himself.

Looking down on Earth, he realizes there had only ever been one person on that blue marble who actually cared. Someone who had always been there, even when there was nothing to gain. Stone had never abandoned him.

But he had abandoned Stone. He tossed him aside, just like Gerald did to him. Now that he's able to understand how Stone felt, this is his last chance to make things right.

In his final moments, with nothing to fear, Robotnik puts down his emotional walls and opens up as best as he can. Stone had done so much for him, asked for nothing in return, and now it was his turn to do the same. Ivo helped save the world, not for recognition or convenience, but simply out of love.

Stone had always been a sycophant to him, yes, but he had also been a friend. A sycofriend.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Just One More

virgin!eddie x fem!reader

You literally fall into Eddie's lap and after doing you a favor, you somehow become his first.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v)

The party is in full swing when you get there. This is the first one you’ve gone to alone since your messy break up and it feels weird but oddly freeing to not have anyone by your side. You had no one to answer to, to wait on and you didn’t have to worry about being abandoned so he could go talk with his friends and pretend like you didn’t even exist. 

But because you have the most terrible luck, you spot him in the kitchen, flirting with the exact guy that he always told you not to worry about. This all has to be some elaborate joke that life has decided to play on you, that’s the only thing that makes sense. Well, good for them. They deserve each other. 

You swear you see Johnny look your way and hurry into the living room, backing up as quickly as possible to make sure that they can’t see you, but of course, because this is all still some joke, you end up falling onto something, or rather, someone. A cute someone at that. He’s got curly, dark brown hair and the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen. 

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize quickly. Instead of being offended like you assume he would be, he just smiles and it’s pretty. 

“I’m not,” he says, his voice taking on a flirty tone. Maybe life is actually starting to be kinder to you. 

“You’re not?” You ask, sitting up and the stranger just smiles wider. 

“Not at all. It’s not everyday a pretty girl literally falls into my lap.” Your cheeks heat at his compliment and you shyly turn away, only seeing that Johnny’s eyes have locked on yours. 

“Can I ask a huge favor?” He doesn’t even know you but is sure that he’d do whatever you asked. You’ve already bewitched him and he doesn’t even know your name. He always falls fast and hard and it never seems to get him anywhere. His heart always gets broken in the end. 

“Anything,” he breathes, not even caring how desperate he sounds. 

“My ex is over there and I really need you to kiss me,” you say, leaning closer and Eddie is standing to wonder what kind of dream he’s entered because surely something as perfect as this wouldn’t be real life, right?

“Sure,” he nods, his lips parting, and you slot yours between them as your arms wrap around his neck. One hand rests against your waist as the other cradles the back of your head. 

The kiss is soft and sweet, everything you could have ever hoped for. It’s like what you’ve seen in the movies but didn’t think was real. There’s a spark there and you already feel sad knowing that you’re going to have to break the kiss eventually. 

You stay like that for so long that you completely forget why you initially asked him, so caught up in his lips that you forget about everything else but him. And Eddie’s not even sure how he’s able to kiss you back since his mind is so fuzzy, no thoughts going on besides your lips. 

You’re straddling his waist now, kissing his neck and all he can do is whine, wanting more, needing more. You’re whispering the most filthy things into his skin. He wants to do everything you’re asking of him. He wants to fully submit to you. To be your good boy. 

“That’s a nice sound,” you tell him, your lips finding his again. “You wanna make it again? Maybe somewhere more private?” 

He wants to, he really does. But he’s never done that kind of thing before. Hell, he’s barely even kissed anyone before tonight so he’s sure that he’d have no idea what to do. You clearly seem to be much more experienced than him and he wouldn’t want to disappoint you. 

So he’s not sure why he agrees and lets you lead him up the stairs to an empty bedroom. His heart is pounding as you close the door then push him onto the bed. He knows he should say something, but his mind goes blank as you start to undress, your lacy bra making his cheeks flush. 

He just stays there, staring up at you as you move onto your jeans, giving him his own personal show and he’s not going to dare to tell you to stop. Especially not when he feels his pants getting tighter. 

He’s adorable, you think. He’s staring at you with drool practically falling from his lips and you wonder why he’s here alone tonight when any woman would be lucky to have him. He’s sweet and kind and you feel so grateful to have fallen into his lap. He’s unlike any guy you’ve ever met and you just know that he’ll be nothing but a gentleman when he finally gets you into bed. 

He’s staring intently, his pupils getting bigger so that his eyes look almost black and you decide that you need him and you need him now. and he needs you too considering how hard he is right now. 

You’re now just in your bra and panties and you make your way for him, placing yourself on top of him, kissing him until he’s breathless. Your hands slide up his shirt as your lips move to his neck again, pushing the shirt up slowly until you can get it over his head. 

“I-I’ve never done this before,” he says breathily. You’re quick to pull away, reaching for your clothes, but he stops you, taking your hands in his. “But I want you to be my first.” 

“You do?” You ask. “You don’t even know my name.” 

“I’m Eddie,” he replies with that pretty smile and you swear your heart melts for just a second. 

“Y/n.” 

“Y/n,” he repeats, putting emphasis on each syllable and it sounds so pretty coming out of his mouth. ”Now I do know your name and I still want you to be my first…if you want.” 

“I’m not very good, just so you know.” Those were the exact words that Johnny had said to you every time 

“How would I know?” He lets out a laugh and it makes your heart flutter. God, he’s perfect. He’s perfect and you’re probably never going to see him again. That’s why you’ve got to make tonight count. So you pull him in for another kiss, sticking your tongue into his mouth this time and he moans, loudly, a sound he’s only made when he was by himself. 

You begin to grind against him and now he’s whining into your mouth and the sound is intoxicating. You need more. You need to ride him until all he can get out is your name, screaming it until he can’t anymore. 

“You gonna be a good boy for me?” You ask as your hands slip between your bodies, feeling around for the button of his jeans. 

“God, yes,” he breathes. Once they’re off, it’s much easier to see his bulge and how much of an effect you’ve had on him from giving him your little show plus your kisses. He’s never wanted anyone so badly and he’s prepared to do whatever, be whatever you ask of him. 

He sees you pulling something from your purse and immediately realizes that it’s a condom as soon as comes into view. You slowly pull down his boxers and he should be shy about you being the only girl to ever see his cock, but he’s not. 

“I’m gonna put this on you, okay?” You tell him and he nods as his boxers finally come off and your eyes widen at the size of him. You roll the condom onto him then quickly remove your panties before straddling him. 

You settle on top of him nice and slow to get him used to it and the moan that falls from his lips is enough to make you soaked. He’s already coming undone so you’re going to take your time because you know he’s not going to last very long. 

“God,” he whines. “This is far better than using my hand.” You’re moving slowly, your hands pressed against his chest as you continue to move. 

“Yeah? You like that? How about this?” You begin to bounce even faster, moving your hands to grab onto his hips, pushing them against yours until he’s able to do it on his own, mimicking the movement perfectly. 

“Fuck,” he whines again. “Does it always feel this good?” He’s moving slowly, trying his best to keep up with your pace and you watch him come completely undone underneath you, his body pouring sweat as he pushes in and out of you, his words quickly slurring by the second.

“To be honest, not really, but with you, it feels just right. You’re such a good boy.” Those seem to be the magic words because not long after, he’s reaching his orgasm and you feel so smug because of how loud he’s being. You did that and you feel even more confident that you made him feel that good. 

When he comes down, you turn to leave because that’s what you’re used to, but Eddie grabs hold of you and pulls you down to lie beside him. You turn to face him and his eyes are pleading. You know what he wants and even though it’s programmed into you to leave, you just can’t. Not when he’s been so sweet and not when he made you feel so good. He’s not like the others that you’ve slept with. He actually cares what you’re into and isn’t interested in using you just to feel something. 

As you pull him into another kiss, you just know that you’re going to go for another round and you give in. You let him take the lead this time, only with a little guidance and he’s nothing but a good boy. He doesn’t even have to ask to know what you like. He just does. As he makes you orgasm, you just know that you won’t be able to sleep with anyone else after that. And with the way he pulls you into his arms after you come down, he tells you exactly that.

Pretty much everyone is gone when the two of you sneak downstairs and out the door. You head outside hand in hand and Eddie walks you to your car. Kissing you again and again, stalling going to his own vehicle and only leaves when he gets your phone number and plans to meet again for one more, but you both know that it won’t be just one more. Not if you can help it, anyway.

[cherrybomb107]

I literally wouldn’t have cared if they decided to pull a Cyberpunk Edgerunners and kill off our entire main cast save for one or two characters and let the bad guys(the establishment) win. Tragedy isn’t the problem. The problem is the way they went about it. The show had so many plot threads to tie up, there was never any time to truly reckon with all the tragedies that were occurring.

Ekko losing his tree because of Arcane poisoning would be tragic. Notice I said “would be” because that plot line is literally never addressed again. It gets brought up, and then forgotten about. Vi being hit by her girlfriend after she makes the decision to put on the uniform of her oppressors and contribute to oppressing her own people in pursuit of a little sister who she can’t accept has changed is tragic on multiple levels! That’s some compelling shit! But the show never meaningfully addresses these issues or lets Vi react to them without throwing her into a new situation where she has to fight and lose something again. All Vi has ever done her entire life is try and fail to protect her loved ones. She gets punished for trying. It’s almost like the universe itself is out to get her! But we never see Vi break down and pick herself back up. We never see her make any choices to do what’s best for her. The plot decided for her and that’s the problem!

Vi and Jinx deciding to go their separate ways after all that they’ve been through would’ve been tragic. These two sister who love each other more than anything having to break apart for who knows how long and holding onto the hope that maybe they can reunite and be sisters again is gut wrenching…or at least it WOULD be if they actually decided to separate! Vi didn’t decide to leave her sister, Jinx didn’t decide to leave Vi, the narrative forced them apart! The narrative keeps ripping them away from each other and it’s starting to feel intentional. Trying to tell the audience that the only way Vi can truly be happy and choose herself is by having her baby sister die and being forced to live with her girlfriend in a city that will be extremely discriminatory towards her is not it. I’m not saying that Vi and Jinx have to ride off into the sunset together. But I am saying that if going their separate ways really was for the best, the show wouldn’t spend so much time trying to convince us of that. It would just happen organically. Which, to me, it didn’t

Jinx losing Isha was yet another tragedy! But the show doesn’t really show Jinx grieving and then deciding to fight for what she believes in after Ekko convinces her to try. She tried to kill herself five times. FIVE TIMES!!! How on Earth did she go from that to a badass piloting an airship, dripped out with her new outfit and steeled sense of resolve? We don’t know because it happened offscreen! I understand the show had time constraints, but come on. This plot line deserved more time to shine. Sevika being on the Council is a tragedy. It’s an empty gesture for one, and majority rules for two. That means Sevika will be forced to try to barter for Zaun’s freedom while being surrounded by a bunch of classist Piltie pricks who despise her and everything she stands for. She will be talked over and talked down to. That’s not a happy ending! But the show frames it like it is! And I’m sorry but if you can’t watch interviews of the writers saying their thoughts on the show and you genuinely believe that they have the range to write Sevika being on the Council as thoughtful commentary? No comment😭😭😭

Caitlyn’s corruption arc is yet another tragedy! Both because of what happened to her AND the fact that the arc wasn’t done! Caitlyn’s arc was supposed to show how no matter how “good” and “kind” a privileged person believes them self to be, their unconscious bias and prejudice against the out group will rear its ugly head the second they experience a fraction of what the marginalized group has been experiencing for centuries. It was so easy for Caitlyn to say “I understand now. How easy it is to hate them.” “Those animals!” “I thought you were different, but you’re not. It’s her blood in your veins!” How easy it was for her to weaponize The Gray. How easy it was for her to work with Ambessa and co sign martial law despite knowing better. How easy it was for her to risk killing a child just to get to Jinx. That’s super compelling! But the problem is we never see Caitlyn wrestle with her decisions. Guilt should be eating her ALIVE and all we get is a complete 180 from her after a time skip! Then she does nothing to redeem herself! And once again, no the writers absolutely did not intend that to be commentary on how the privileged are able to get away with things the lower class would be imprisoned/killed for. If they did then Caitlyn could’ve had a confrontation with someone from Zaun, whether that be Sevika, Ekko, Jinx, Vi or someone else, where they call her out on her hypocrisy. Then we would see her wrestle with that and realize the monster that she’s become.

Unfortunately, all these tragedies are not given the proper narrative weight they deserve. Or they’re not treated as tragedies when they so clearly are! THAT’S the problem! It’s not tragedy, it’s the framing! And it’s the way y’all are so condescending whenever someone criticizes the show. Why is every single critique met with “You didn’t watch/understand the show”? Why is it always “What were you expecting?” “You’re just mad it didn’t go your way.” “You’re just a hater.” “You have no idea how hard writing a script is.” “They planned the story from the beginning, this is how it was supposed to be.” And on and on and on. It’s exhausting! Why is it so hard for y’all to understand that it is possible to understand and have love for something but still have gripes with it? It doesn’t mean I love the show any less! It just means I’d love it even more if not for these certain aspects of it. That’s it, that’s all🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

[harryhighkey]

look after you

Hi! Here is another Lee Byung-hun one shot!!!

This is pure fluff, older boyfriend looking after his drunk girlfriend.

Hope u like!!

You were drunk. Perhaps wasted was a more accurate description. What had started as 'just a few drinks' had turned into many plus the odd shot or five, honestly, you'd lost count of how many shots it had been.

You'd had fun, you loved to be out with your friends, but now you were too far gone and only had one person on your mind. So between long, slow blinks you began texting that exact person.

-TEXT CHAIN-

Hi

Hi miss, having fun?

Lots but I am so feeling drink

Are you okay?

Missed call from BH ♡

Baby, please let me know you're okay.

Hi yes I ok but I want come home now

Want me to pick you up?

Yes plsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss love you

I love you, I'll be there soon.

Your drunk self smiled at that response, knowing that soon actually meant soon with your boyfriend. You'd dated men your own age before but never had you been able to believe someone so confidently. Twenty-four years was a significant age gap, but god your heart had never felt safer. Lee Byung-hun offered you a sense of security you had never experienced before.

Which is why when his car pulled up, you quickly said goodbye to your friends and began hurrying to him. You'd never been the girl who was in a rush to get back to her boyfriend. But fuck, you were so in love with this man.

Upon seeing you, he got out of the car - being the gentleman he is - planning to open your door for you. These simple acts of kindness was another thing about him you hadn't experienced with guys your own age. Once the door was opened and he turned back to face you, you crashed into him with a hug, swinging your arms around his neck. It was lucky he was not drunk because it was his hands on your waist that kept you upright.

"Careful, my girl." He cautioned, his eyes scanning over your face to gauge how drunk you were. The flush in your cheeks and your eyes not being as opened as they normally were combining with the frequent slow blinking gave him the answer he was looking for. What he wasn't expecting was for your face to contort into one of pain and for you to suddenly push him away with force.

He watched as you began moving so quick to turn and take a few steps away from him. "(Y/N) what-" He was cut off by the sound of you vomiting.

---

"Feeling better?" Byung-hun asked.

You were now sitting naked in the bathtub whilst your boyfriend held the showerhead in one hand and soap in the other, sitting on the edge of the bath. You'd wanted a shower when you got back but he was worried after you'd gotten sick so he insisted on doing this for you.

"Mhm." You nodded, you had your eyes closed and were enjoying the feeling of the warm water running over your body and the fresh smell of the soap ridding any smell of alcohol as he ran it along your skin. It wasn't all you were enjoying, you were also enjoying how nice it felt to be looked after. Which is exactly what he'd been doing all night.

When you vomited, he held your hair back and rubbed your back. Once you were done, he helped you into the car and did your seatbelt up for you. He kept his hand on your thigh through the drive, giving it a squeeze anytime you groaned and said something like "Why did I drink so much?" In a very whiny voice. Throughout the drive he was continuously opening and closing your window from the control panel on his door, anytime you asked for fresh air he happily pressed it down but once you screwed up your face and turned away from it claiming it was too much wind, he lifted the button. He had to do this many times, and did so patiently.

He sat you on the kitchen bench top when you got back and made you two slices of toast, at first you protested, still feeling ill from the alcohol but he knew you hadn't had anything to eat since drinking and that this would help to make you feel better. He stood between your legs and held up one of the pieces of toast to your mouth, telling you he'd give you a kiss for every bite. He laughed as you rolled your eyes and took a bite. "Good girl." He told you and then you giggled as he kept his promise and dotted kisses across your face and rubbed the outer part of your thighs as you ate the toast.

Then you ended up here, now being bathed by your boyfriend.

"All clean now, baby. Let's get you to bed." At the sound of Byung-hun's voice you opened your eyes to see him turning off the water and placing the showerhead back in it's place.

He smiled down at you and you smiled back but he could see how sleepy you were, your eyes barely able to stay open so he held out his hands, once again offering his help. You placed your hands in his and he helped you up before wrapping a towel around you quickly so you'd stay warm.

Once you were dried and dressed, you swore you had never been so happy to be in bed. "Oh my god, I love to be horizontal."

This made your boyfriend laugh. "Horizontal?"

"Yeah, look at me, I'm horizontal. I don't love anything as much I love being horizontal."

"What about me?"

His question had you snap your vision to him. If only this man knew how he set your heart on fire.

"Except for you."

"Come here." He told you as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close so your body was flush against his. You fit so perfectly together.

"I mean it, you know?" You said, and your eyes welled up as you started to get a little overwhelmed by just how grateful you felt for him. The amount of alcohol you had drunk tonight only helped to intensify your emotions.

He noticed the wetness in your eyes and pulled you in tighter. "What's wrong?"

"I love you, I love you so much." You brought your arms around him this time and buried your face in his neck, clinging onto him.

"I love you too," He switched one of his hands to cradle the back of your head, his other rubbing circles over your back. "What's going on?" He was confused by the sudden outburst of emotion. "Are you okay?"

"Don't ever leave me, okay?"

"Hey," He called for your attention. "Let me see your face."

You brought your head up from it's hiding spot in his neck and met his gaze. "I'm not going anywhere." He reassured you, placing a kiss to your forehead before finding your eye contact again. "Okay?"

You nodded and offered him a smile, blinking away the tears that had built up momentarily. "I've never had anything this good, I can't lose you."

"You won't." He pulled you in tight once more and you relaxed into him. "Close your eyes now, baby. You need a good sleep."

[tvgirlie24]

Not Enough pt.2

After that gruesome training session Alexia desperately tries to fix things between the two of you, you’re having none of it.

Angst (some fluff?)

part 1

The first thing that you felt upon regaining consciousness was an unbearable headache. You didn't think you've ever experienced anything like this. You were uncomfortable, in pain and overall just really confused. The last thing you could remember was someone telling you to keep your eyes open everything else was pretty much a haze. You've made the mistake of trying to open your eyes now, but you were immediately blinded by the intense light of the room and quickly closed them again. The rest of your senses were slowly coming back as well, as you could hear someone quietly talking close to you. There were more voices as well, but you couldn't quite tell who it was. You tried moving your arm as you could feel a needle poking your skin but the second you moved someone held your arm down.

"You're awake! Oh, thank god, you had us scared for a second." Ingrid? Again? Not that you expected anyone else really but even Ingrid being here with you was surprising enough. Despite knowing that she stood up for you yesterday it still didn't make sense why all of a sudden she was so interested in providing you support. Maybe she felt sorry for you?

"Uhh, what the fuck?" Your voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. 

"You passed out, like an hour ago, we were starting to consider taking you to the hospital if you didn't wake up. Do you not remember?"

"I just remember feeling really dizzy and that’s pretty much it."

"You should've said something if you didn't feel well you know, that was pretty irresponsible, you could've hurt yourself." Whilst you knew Ingrid’s scolding came from a place of worry you really didn’t appreciate her words right now. As if it was your fault. Partially yes, but no one stepped in when Alexia was taking it too far. No one stood up for you, and you were at fault? 

“As if me saying I didn’t feel good would’ve done anything.” You murmured and Ingrid gave you a sympathetic look. 

You slowly sat up, with the help of Ingrid and looked around. A physio was next to you, checking your vitals and on the other side of the room was the last person you wanted to see right now. Alexia, looking all guilty and it seemed as though she wanted to say something but kept changing her mind at the last minute. 

You got tired of waiting after she opened and closed her mouth for the fourth time. “What do you want?” You snapped.

“I, uh, I just-, I’m sorry, really, I didn’t mean to take it so far. I didn’t know you felt sick, If I did I-“ 

“You would have done the exact same thing, we both know that.” You interrupted, not really interested in hearing any of her excuses.

“What? No! No, really-“

“Are you sure? You’re saying that if I came up to you and said I’m not feeling well, you wouldn’t have told me that I’m just slacking off?” You asked, though you already knew what the answer would be. 

Nothing, no response. Just as you thought.

“Thought so. I really don’t understand what your problem is. I would understand if you just had some doubts about me, everyone does, I’m used to it. But you have absolutely no reason to hate me and I’m really fucking tired of it. I do everything that I can and yet you always have something to complain about. I’ve had enough of this, I don’t want to do this anymore. I fucking heard you yesterday. I know you think I don’t belong here, I know you think I’m not good enough, but fuck you didn’t even give me an actual chance and I’m sick of it. I don’t fucking deserve this.” You didn’t even realize that tears were streaming down your face or that with each sentence you voice kept getting louder and louder until you were practically screaming in her face but you didn’t care. It felt nice to let it out, all of the frustration you have felt for the past couple of weeks. She kept taking her frustration out on you, now it was you turn. 

She was about to say something but you had no interest in hearing what she was about to say. Whatever she was about to tell you would never warrant her behavior towards you. 

“No, I’m not doing this right now, I’m leaving.“ You stood up abruptly and felt yourself get dizzy again, Alexia reached out her arms to steady you but you quickly steadied yourself and walked past her to the physio. 

“Get it out.” You said while giving him your arm, where an IV was administered, but the physio didn’t move and just looked hesitantly at you.

“Get it out or I’m going to rip it out of my arm myself, I don’t care, your way or my way, you choose.” You barked out. You knew you were being unfair, and unnecessarily mean, the man didn’t do anything to you. But you were so angry with the whole world right now that you couldn’t care less about who was on the receiving end of your outburst. You needed to get it out and most importantly you needed to leave, if being harsh meant you could get out of there sooner then you had no problem being a bitch. For once you just didn’t care. 

The man grabbed your arm and carefully pulled out the IV from your vein, while staring at you very disapprovingly but you didn’t give him a chance to say something, quickly turning around and gathering your things.

“You should have someone drive you, it’s not safe for you to drive yet.” Spoke out the man, despite knowing you were probably not going to listen to him. 

“I’ll be fine.” You dismissed. 

“I can dri-“ Tried saying Alexia but you didn’t even let her finish the sentence, too worked up to let her finish.

“No, there’s no way in hell I’m getting into a car with you Alexia. I would rather crash my car into a building.” 

“Then I’ll drive you.” Offered Ingrid but before you could refuse, she started talking again. 

“Really, please, let me give you a ride, I’ll have María pick me up. I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to drive.” She pleaded and you were too tired to argue with her. “Okay, fine, whatever.” And with that you walked out of the room, with Ingrid closely behind you. Not sparing Alexia a single look.

The ride home didn’t take too long, despite having to give Ingrid instruction, given that you lived pretty close anyway. A fact, which you were grateful for because you physically couldn’t wait for the moment you lied down on your bed. This also meant that it didn’t take Mapi too long to pick up Ingrid, not that you weren’t enjoying her company, but right now you were much too eager to finally get some rest, so when you saw her pull up in your driveway you quickly hugged Ingrid goodbye and shut your front door, leaving both women standing outside confused.

You didn’t do anything else for the rest of the day, still not feeling too well, but also so mentally drained that all you could do was just bury yourself under blankets and order you favorite take out after taking a much needed shower, finally somewhat content after the horrendous day you just had. And as you were slowly falling asleep you couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of your stay in Barcelona would be like this. Hopeless and miserable, filled with unpleasant trainings and you questioning why you even came here in the first place. 

__________________________________________

When you woke up the following day you could feel dread completely consuming your whole body. You were terrified of going to training today, but there was no way you could skip training when you were scheduled to be starting in the match tomorrow. Physically you felt okay, you were rested and the dizziness and headache from yesterday were gone. But mentally you were everything but okay. You didn't know what to expect but each second you were becoming more of a nervous wreck. You didn’t know what today would be like and that was what freaked you out the most.

Walking in wasn't any better, everyone was nice but you haven't had to chance to see the one person you dreaded seeing the most, but it appears as though luck was on your side today because you ended up not seeing Alexia all the way to the locker room. Strangely enough the only two people that were there were Ingrid and Mapi. You greeted them quietly and started changing, not saying anything else but as you sat down on the bench to tie your shoelaces you noticed just how hard your hands were shaking. You let out a frustrated huff when even on your third try you still couldn't manage to tie your laces. It was irrational, the way tears started to cloud your vision but you were overwhelmed with every negative emotion that there is and all of a sudden even a simple thing like inability to tie your shoes has immediately put you on the edge. 

Just as you were about to try again someone appeared in front of you, but you refused to raise your head and let whoever it was see just how much of a mess you were. 

"Need a hand?" Ingrid asked gently. At this point you should've expected it would be her. So far, she's been the only one to offer you any support. But through your life you've only ever been met with a cold shoulder, so anyone being there for you just wasn't something you were used to. You don't think this is something you will ever get used to. 

"No thanks, I got it." You actually didn't, but it was easier to struggle alone, it's all you've ever known. No one ever taught you how to accept help, constantly reminding you to not rely on anyone.

"Let me help, please." She asked again. And as much as you wanted to refuse, you didn't have it in you. So, you just pulled away and let her tie your shoes, like a little kid but you were way past the point of caring. You still kept your head down, not wanting her to see you crying. 

"There you go, hey, hey, what's going on?" 

"No, no it's nothing don't worry, i'm fine." You said frantically trying to dry your tears, though unsuccessfully.

"Look, you don't have to tell me, but you don't need to lie to me, I can see you're not fine." With how gentle she was being it was basically impossible for you not to tell her. You couldn't remember the last time someone spoke to you like this, maybe, when you were a kid and your mom was comforting you after you fell from your bike, but even that memory didn’t  feel as warm as this. So, you decided to open up to her, just a little, even if everything in you told you not to. 

"I'm just freaking out a little. These past few training sessions have been hell and I just, I guess I'm just nervous. I really don't want to mess up again." You admitted, already regretting saying anything at all but Ingrid just gave you a soft smile, lightly squeezing your leg, offering you a bit of comfort.

"Hey, no don't say that, you haven't messed up anything."

"That's not what Alexia thinks." You murmured. "It doesn't matter what she thinks." She argued.

"But it does, she's the captain." You argued weakly, because it did, it would always matter what she thought. And if she thought you were not worth being here, then everything was doomed.

"Look, she will come around I promise. And especially after yesterday I don't think she's going to be so harsh anymore." She kept trying to convince you and you weren't sure if it was because she was actually speaking the truth or because she was just trying to calm you down. "I'm having a really hard time believing you, to be honest."

"I get it but I promise, it's going to be okay, really."

"Thank you. Again. You've really been saving my ass these past few days." Both of you let out a small laugh at that. 

"You don't have anything to thank me for, really. I'm just being a decent human being." 

"Trust me, that's more than I usually get. So, I appreciate it, and you." She gave you a sad smile at that. You didn't mean to sound so depressing, but that's how it was. You really didn't feel like sugarcoating the truth just for the sake of not sounding like a complete loser. 

You didn't say anything afterwards and neither did Ingrid, she just offered you a hand and helped you stand up. She kept her hold on your hand and slowly pulled you in for a hug. You froze momentarily, not really expecting it, but quickly relaxed and hugged her back. 

"I know you've had it tough and I'm really sorry about it, but I'm here for you, for anything you need. I know what it feels like when you think you're all alone, but I promise you're not, at least not anymore." Tears clouded your vision again but for an entirely different reason now. God you really were a wreck today. You didn't trust yourself to speak so you just squeezed her harder, hoping that she understands your gratitude. 

__________________________________________

You wouldn't say you were necessarily calm after your conversation with Ingrid, but at least you were not on the verge of a complete breakdown anymore, so that's a win. That changed the second you saw Alexia approach you. From experience you knew not to expect anything good from her, so her next words left you completely speechless. 

"Are you feeling okay?" She asked simply, her face not giving you any indication of what she was thinking. Out of all the things she could've said to you, you really didn't expect her to care about how you were feeling. So, you just stared at her, not knowing what to say. She raised her eyebrows though, silently telling you that she was expecting an answer.

"Uhm, I-, yeah, I'm fine." You stuttered, internally cursing yourself for sounding like a complete idiot. She didn't didn't say anything else, just giving you a faint nod that was barely noticeable before turning around and leaving.

The beginning of the training was all formalities, and you were pretty much spaced out until you all started running laps, not really paying attention to anything else, but just as you were about go run the extra laps that Alexia always orders you to, you could hear her shouting. 

"What are you doing?" She asked sternly and you braced yourself for another scolding. You didn't know what you've done wrong, again, but you were definitely not about to argue with her.

"Uhh, I'm about to run the extra lap? Like always?" You said, rather hesitantly, not really knowing what to expect next. 

"No, it's okay, you don't have to, go stretch." She replied and you gave her a simple nod, absolutely flabbergasted.

Since you came here, she always ordered you to run extra laps, to repeat the drills, her telling you not to felt way too weird. For a second you wondered if it was a joke, or if she just went crazy, because this was not the Alexia you knew. But she kept on surprising you today, because each time you were about to do something she kept on stopping you, reminding you to take it easy and repeatedly asking you if you felt okay. 

You were confused at first, not understanding what her point was at all. But that confusion quickly started turning into anger, why did she decide to be nice to you now? She could've been nice to you this whole time and she would've saved both of you a lot of trouble. Why did it take you passing out for her to come to her senses and actually start treating you like a human? So, the next time you heard her tell you to slow down you really had to bite your tongue because you got dangerously close to telling her to fuck off. You were positively furious, your blood was boiling and you kept having to remind yourself to stay calm. 

Breaking point came when she handed you a bottle of water that you could’ve easily gotten yourself, a simple innocent gesture. Under any other circumstances you would’ve just said thank you, but in this very moment that was the last thing you wanted to say. You hated it, how all this time you wanted her to treat you like a human and that’s what she was doing, yet it was only driving you crazy, and against your better judgement you ended up snapping at her.

“Okay I really don’t understand what you’re trying to achieve today, but it is driving me insane. You mind explaining to me what the fuck you’re doing?” You snapped with a frown on your face and you could see the colour draining from her face as she looked as you as though she has seen a ghost.

“I-, uhm, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, you know, after yesterday and you know…” she trailed off, awfully shy for someone who was yelling in your face less than 24 hours ago. 

“Well, I’m fantastic of course! How do you think I’m doing? I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to be around you and I certainly don’t want you making sure I’m fine! It’s too late for it now, I don’t care if you feel guilty it’s your own fault Alexia! You don’t get to treat me like a piece of shit and then act all nice hoping that will make up for it.”

Maybe if you weren’t so angry you would’ve felt a bit sorry for her because she truly looked like a kicked puppy after that little outburst. But she didn’t say anything and with a scoff you turned around and left. You didn’t even bother changing, just slumping your bag over your shoulder and escaping to your car as fast as you could. You were lucky you left a bit early and the parking lot was still empty, otherwise everyone would’ve seen and heard the yell you let out once you got into the car. 

That woman really is going to be the death of you. 

__________________________________________

So, the match really didn’t end up that well for you. You ended up winning 3-1 so it wasn’t that much of a disaster for the team, but your performance today was less than good. You were all over the place, but never where you were needed, completely missing passes and none of your shots came even close to a goal. It was painful to watch and you really weren’t surprised when you came off in the 63rd minute. You couldn’t stick around and keep watching it, too angry with yourself so you immediately went inside to take a shower, hoping that a nice cold shower might calm down not just your body but also your mind. 

Once you got out of the shower you could tell that the game was over since some of the players were already inside while some stayed out on the pitch. You hoped to have a bit more time to pull yourself together before everyone would come pouring in. The shower did absolutely nothing to help you and once you started crying there was no way you would be able to stop. Maybe Alexia was right, maybe everything really was just handed over to you and maybe you really weren’t that good. 

You tried to avoid everyone’s stares while you took your bag and excused yourself, leaving the locker room and hoping to find some quiet place to cry it all out. You tried several doors, most of them locked but you managed to stumble open a door that was unlocked and once you opened it you could see it was just a small conference room, abandoned a long time ago given how empty it was. So, you threw your bag and the floor and made a beeline for the corner, slumping down and burying your head in your knees, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The first sob you let out was rough, so rough it actually hurt, but it felt way so good to finally let it out. You cried so hard that you could feel your whole body shake, and each second it was becoming harder and harder to breath.

You completely forgot to keep a track of time, knowing that you were due to leave soon, but in that moment that was the least of your worries. All of a sudden, you could hear someone open the door but you refused to raise your head, much too comfortable in your little bubble, so you couldn’t tell who it was.

Please be Ingrid, please let it be Ingrid.

“Hey..” 

Oh God, no.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Alexia tried again after she got no response from you. 

“Go away.” You pleaded but instead of turning around she just got closer and on instinct you tried to push yourself closer to the wall to create more space between you. “No please, please go away, please I don’t want you here.” 

She didn’t go away, instead she slowly lowered herself onto the ground until she was sitting in front of you, not too far but not too close, which you appreciated. If she were to disturb your personal space in your current state you would probably just freak out even more. 

“Please, tell me what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” She asked softly, you’ve never heard her speak like that, let alone to you, but you didn’t let that break you. “No, please, just let me be.” You cried, even harder, wanting her to get away from you as soon as possible.

“I will, once you tell me what’s wrong.” She didn’t get a response from you, all that could be heard in the quiet room was your ragged breathing.

“Is this about the game? Is that why you’re so worked up?” She kept her voice gentle, and it made it hard to keep ignoring her, but you weren’t quite ready to talk to her yet. So, all that she got in response was just a whine, one that resembled an agreement. 

“Look I get it, no one likes bad days, but they’re a part of what we do, we can’t have a perfect performance all the time, as much as we want to. It is not the end of the world, I promise.” She tried to comfort you, not realizing she was doing the exact opposite.

“It is when everyone around you thinks that you don’t deserve to be a part of the team and you constantly have something to prove, then it pretty much is the end of the world.” Your voice was rough and you looked like a mess but you still raised your head as you spoke, wanting her to understand that the biggest reason why you were crying was her own doing. You didn’t necessarily feel secure at Barça before, but it definitely wasn’t as bad as it is now, and it was mostly Alexia’s fault. 

She frowned, thinking about what to say next. 

“Look, I’m sorry, I really am. I was an arrogant asshole and I took it too far, but none of what I said is true. I did think it was but I don’t anymore and I don’t want you thinking it’s true. It is not, you deserve to be here, okay?” 

“But that’s not what you thought 3 days ago.” You murmured, Alexia barely hearing you.

“No, it’s not. But a person that gets everything handed to them doesn’t train until they actually pass out, you know.” Again, no response from you, but she refused to give up. At least now your sobbing subsided to just small hiccups.

“I know I messed up, and I will forever feel sorry about it, but I don’t want you to doubt whether you deserve to be here or not. You do, you work hard and I didn’t see it then, but I see it now, okay?” Alexia said firmly, and it was hard not to believe her, with how gently but convincingly she was speaking. “Okay.” 

She gave you a soft nod and slowly stood up, offering you a hand and even though you felt like you shouldn’t, you accepted her help. She carefully helped you stand up, holding you up when you wobbled a little from your legs falling asleep. 

“Come on, they’re all probably waiting for us.” She gave your hand a light squeeze and let go and you followed her out of the room.

All of a sudden you didn’t feel like the world was ending, everything that was going on now seemed almost manageable and you walked out of that room with a small, barely noticeable smile on your face.

__________________________________________

Yaaay I finally finished the second part🥳 Sorry for the delay I wanted to get this out over 2 weeks ago, but I hope you liked it anyway :)

@marvelwomen-simp

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

hi !! i read the sleep hcs for ENA and then went on a tangent and found the other ENA stuff you wrote sommmm...

what are the reactions of the ENA's friends like Moony, the Shepard, Merci, Phindoll, etc. to ENA actually sleeping for the first time... and ENA + Y/N herself ofc?? <3

Omg hey! I've been reading your Ena writing too, and it's fantastic! Never stop <3

.....

Moony

As soon as she discovers you cuddling with a sleeping Ena, she initially believes she's dead.

"Dude..did you just kill my friend in cold blood????"

After you reminded her that she's experiencing sleep for the first time, she goes "ohhhh....okay. But I'm still mad at you for making me freak out like that."

Despite how it looks on the surface, Moony cares for her a lot--even to the point where she threatened you if you ever broke her heart...only to claim she was joking and didn't actually care what happened.

You know she does. She just has an odd way of simultaneously showing and hiding it.

But she'll admit that you've done a better job at handling Ena's emotions than she ever did.

Instead of ignoring them and hoping she'd go back to "normal", you validated her feelings and helped her calm down.

When she turned into her Full-Sadness form, you stayed with her even though it made you both late to the Great Runas' celebration.

As far as you introducing her to the concept of sleep, though? Moony doesn't really mind it too much. Only that it's weird to see Ena quiet and...not doing much of anything.

But it's helped with her mood regulation a lot, so...that's a big plus.

Shepherd

Every now and then, the Guardians were allowed to live out in the overworld, spending their lives how ever they wish until they were summoned for the next celebration.

For Shepherd, her work was never done, as she dwelled in a small conservatory where she could tend to her meadow, where hourglass dogs always found their way to her.

But one evening, she discovers an intruder laying in the middle of everything, and is thoroughly appalled when she recognizes her face.

"Ena? Oh no..not again.."

Not only did the same "troublemaker" barge in here, but she had the nerve to crush her flowers, too???

"Great Runas, give me strength. Show me a reason not to strike down this pest-"

"Shep! I'm so sorry! I was looking everywhere for her!" She hears your voice, and is relieved when you come to the rescue.

As one of the first Guardians you befriended, you would often bring lost hourglass dogs to add to her flock. Even buying them from auctions for the sole purpose of rescuing them.

During one conversation over turron, you mentioned being with Ena, and she almost spits out her drink.

Not that it's any of her business, and she doesn't outright say that you shouldn't be dating any Ena. But...she's confused on why and how you two got together, and still is to this very day.

She just watches you carry your girlfriend in your arms, only now realizing that she had been sleeping the entire time.

"That's odd. I thought her kind didn't require rest."

"Yeah, well..I decided to introduce that idea to her. But I probably should've mentioned that she can't just sleep anywhere." You give her an awkward smile.

"Hmph. When she awakens, tell her that she owes me an apology." Shepherd huffs, holding her crook. "My flowers are very delicate this time of year."

"I promise." You reassure, only to feel Ena snuggle her head against your shoulder to get more comfortable.

Her eyes haven't opened once, yet she sensed your presence instantly.

You smile sweetly, and Shepherd just blinks in astonishment.

Merci

She's just patrolling the Maze as usual, talking to you while you're trying to visit Moony, when she nearly trips over something.

But very quickly, you both realize it's someone.

"What??? Who is.....oh, Ena. Why did she come back???" She lightly nudges her side. "I told her this place was dangerous! Does she not have any brains left???"

"Hey, what did I say about insulting her?" You firmly reminded her. "We're together, remember?"

"....so you can make excuses for her being a hazard??" Merci's not pleased with you trying to defend Ena, but in that moment, she wakes up and is delighted to see you two.

"Merci, my good friend! [Y/n], my sweetheart! I had the most delightful dream!"

"Eh? So you sleep now? When did that happen?" is what the mime tells her.

But the only thing Ena hears is "Eh? So you sleep now? Did you have a good rest?"

"Indeed. Thank you!" Your polygonal girlfriend jumps to her feet. "My apologies. I couldn't find my way around and decided to stay put, knowing you'd come find me eventually." She grins, holding your hands. "Fun fact: did you know it's possible to cry until you're physically exhausted and lose consciousness?"

"Yeah, but...that's not really a fun fact." You shake your head. "Let's go see Moony. We'll catch you later, Merci."

The mime simply nods, although she finds it bizarre how and why you chose to be with Ena.

But she's not gonna question your decision too much. She's got more important things to worry about.

Phindoll

It was a quiet night, when you were cuddling with a drunken Ena who had fallen asleep, her head on your chest.

She had glitched into her "demon" form and for some reason was stuck that way as she passed out, but you didn't mind it at all.

You were just petting her horns, hearing barely-audible purrs emitting from her throat.

Then out of nowhere, your phone rings and you answer, hearing a certain laidback Guardian's voice on the other end.

"Hey, hey, hey!! How's that acutie of yours doin'? Haven't seen her in a minute."

"Oh! Phindoll? Hey...how are you able to call me from the desert?"

"Don't question it, beta buddy."

"True. I should know better. Um...do you mind keeping the volume down a notch? She's sleeping right now."

"Woaaaahhh...her journey to our Great Runas tuckered her out that much, huh?" He sounds amused. "It's understandable."

"Well it's her first time really sleeping. So.."

"No way, bro. That's insane. Is that why her moods get outta whack sometimes???"

"It's possible." You answered, glancing down at your girlfriend, who seemed to be stirring. But the moment you started petting her horns again, she settles down and lies still once more.

Eventually, Phindoll hangs up the phone to give you guys some peace and quiet.

You liked chatting with him, and you liked the fact that he supports you two being together.

And you're especially grateful he didn't put her through the "interview ritual"...which you knew nothing about except for the fact it involved violence.

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons

As much as dear Lucy and reader enjoyed themselves in this headcanon post, I can't help but imagine such activities might lead to Charlie become a big sister, so I put some headcanons together for such a situation. I know that Sinners can't get pregnant as canon currently stands, so I typically employ either the Rules of Fanfic or I imagine reader is a living human that ended up in Hell through magic shenanigans (will elaborate with a prompt post once I've got the spoons), though of course you're free to imagine them as Hellborn or whatever suits your fancy!

Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Implied Smut

- He's insistent you see the Royal Physician as soon as you start experiencing symptoms, but he's not at all prepared for the diagnosis you bring back, and he might need you to repeat it a few dozen times. You're pregnant? With a baby? And it's his? He put a baby in you? You're going to have his baby? An actual baby? He's going to be a dad again?! So goes the conversation for a good ten or so minutes, and suffice to say he's far from calm once the news finally does sink in. Given that the two of you had assumed that an angel and a mortal couldn't reproduce, this is more than an unexpected surprise, and Lucifer knows all too well how much of a fuss this will create from Hell's lowest ring all the way up to Heaven. That's to say nothing of how Charlie might take the news...

- Once the initial panic fades, after a solid hour or so, he gathers himself and focuses on setting a course of action. A very important decision needs to be made. He says it's up to you, but upon being asked what he'd like to do, the King of Hell surprises himself and answers without hesitation that he'd love to have this baby with you. He's surprised because he knows better than anyone that it will be challenging, but he can't deny how much he wants it regardless. Having Charlie was the greatest thing he'd ever done, and the thought of another little bundle makes his heart swell in ways he can barely describe, but ultimately he'll support whatever decision you make. Carrying a half-Archangel is no easy feat... Hearing that you want the same and intend to carry through is enough to make him lift you clear off the ground in a spinning airborne embrace, wings fluttering like a hummingbird as he breaks out into a celebratory musical number or two. He can't wait to be a dad all over again!

- If you thought he pampered you before, you were wrong. He doubles the amount of servants at your call, ensures there's always a physician available at a moment's notice, and hires a full team of chefs to cook whatever you might crave at any hour of the day. From beginning to end, he doesn't want you to want for anything, and the man knows a thing or two about spoiling, and he goes all out to ensure you're surrounded by comfort at all times. That's to say nothing of his own personal dedication to more or less worshiping your existence. Even the tiniest indication of pain or discomfort has him leaping to your assistance. Backrub? Footrub? Full body massage? You name it, he's quite happy to provide. If it wasn't such a cliche he'd be rather happy to feed you grapes from a golden platter. His efforts are borne from the deep sense of pride he feels every time he looks at you and thinks of how incredible it is that he's with you, that you're carrying his child, and that the two of you are bringing something quite wonderful and unique into existence. Said pride fully extends to the public view, where he doesn't hesitate to show you off and humbly brag to anyone that will listen about the news.

- You'll also find that as protective as he was before, he doesn't even hesitate to get his fangs out now, not that many in Hell are stupid enough to mess with the King's beloved. He expects you to be treated with the highest levels of respect, and if he can't accompany you somewhere, he'll insist on an armed escort to keep you safe. This fear isn't completely unfounded, as there are some willing to risk everything for an upper hand on Lucifer, but he's got ample experience keeping the opportunists at bay. He did the same when Lilith was expecting Charlie.

- Speaking of Charlie, the only thing that gives him any kind of hesitation is his fear that she might take the news poorly. Though she took your relationship well, what if she isn't thrilled about a younger sibling? With their relationship so recently repaired, he fears she might worry about being replaced or pushed aside, and he doesn't know how to reassure her that nothing will ever make him love her less. Thankfully, with her boundless kindness and eternally upbeat personality, the Princess of Hell puts his worries to rest as soon as she gets the news. In fact, she reacts much the same way her father did; a massive hug and a delighted musical number, albeit with far more happy sobbing. She promises through tears that she'll be the best big sister Hell has ever seen, and that she simply can't wait.

[goodeapple]

divine timing, or something like it (alpha!aemond targaryen x omega!oc)

pairing : Aemond x Ysilla (Rhaenyra'sDaughter!OC)

warnings : ABO dynamics (which imo, comes with obvious dubious consent), dreams of knotting, the standard Targcest good times that is my bread & butter

word count : 6,000+

note : i can't believe this thing is actually seeing the light of day and (hopefully) breaking me out of my writer's block. hope ya love it, idc if ya hate it <33

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.

.

Gods, she can't fucking breathe.

Ysilla gasps wildly, one desperate inhale after another. She rips at the soft sweetheart rise of her dress' neckline with frenzied hands, nails sharp and fraying the delicate stitchings. Good, let her ruin it then, if the soaking rush of slick that's wetting her thighs hasn't stained the fabric beyond measure already.

Her cunt is a river, the swollen lips of her flower sopping and sliding along one another, and if she clenches her muscles just so, hot tiny tingles burst like sparks in her tummy. There's a pressure building, not quite unlike the kind that has her relieving herself at daybreak, but something just south of there. More pleasant, more tight. 

She careens into the side of a writing desk, the wind whooshing out of her as her stomach greets the sturdy wood. Her fingers scrabble for purchase- to anchor her down, to tear her forward, she is unsure. All she knows is that every inch of her body hurts and she'd do anything to make it better.

Her chamber door opens and it seems her prayers for help have been answered. 

"What have you gotten yourself into now, Niece?" Aemond spits, barely concealed fury fizzing and frothing at his edges. Dinner was a fucking disaster, one he enjoyed aiding in. Riling up the Strong boys had brought him more joy than he could ever remember experiencing, but the long night to get there made him want to sever the very head from his body.

Rhaenyra and her doting bitch of a husband, with their identical downturned scowls and judging eyes, laughing and snorting carefree at the end of the table. His ghoulish corpse of a father forcing them all to lend an ear to that insufferable speech. So many sons, they all blurred one into the other, all sharing the features of their mother and that of whomever their fathers may be. The hair color used to help keep them sorted but now, two fair haired sniveling brats have been added to the brood and Aemond can't keep track. 

And then, of course, there's Ysilla, with her nose upturned and self-righteousness a thick cloud perfuming her. The firstborn to the King's favorite. Destined to only receive the best and apparently, from her attitude, it's never enough. 

And now, even after he's done his duty to his mother and put on the best face he could manage tonight (before it all went belly up), it seems he still cannot escape the bastards of his blood.

"No, no, no, get him out of here!" Ysilla screams at the petrified servant girl, who doesn't even have the good fucking sense to fake like she's trying to obey the future Crown's wishes, and instead flutters soft lashes to the Targaryen son in hope of help. The girl is a waif of creamy alabaster skin and yellow blonde hair, all of it pinned underneath a sage colored cap. Her cheeks are a pinched red; delicate circles of color that match the flush of her lips. And she's looking at Aemond like he'll save her from the hellish wench that she's been stuck waiting on since Ysilla and her family returned to the capital. 

Ysilla snarls, angrier than a dragon with a toothache. "Fine then, if you are so miserably incompetent, then you leave!" Her mother would smack her in the mouth if she heard her being such a pain, but Ysilla would spit at the King himself with the agony that churns in her gut.

 

Damn these people, don't even know how to listen to the heiress. Ysilla growls, before a clenching cramp bows her over, sending her grasping for the edge of the desk before she can crumple onto the top of it. 

"You sent her for help, and this is how you treat her?" 

"Help? You?" Her snort is indignant but she deems it appropriate. 

"You are so like your mother, aren't you." It isn't a question as much as it's an accusation. Ysilla bristles at the disgust layered in between the clearly enunciated words. Aemond speaks to be heard- their family dinner drove that point home like a stake through the ground. And for him to disrespect her mother- the heir- so blatantly and in front of others, makes her vision glow crimson. 

"And damn proud of it." She spits out, watching through blurry eyes as Aemond holds the door open for the maid and softly hushes her quivering apology. He's so gentle with her, even pushing the door shut with less force than a strong gust of wind, as if he doesn't wish to frighten the girl anymore than Ysilla apparently has.

But yet, whenever he looks at her- his own kin- it's with a roughness that rivals dragon scales. Ysilla's skin shivers in annoyance, and she tears at her bracelets until the bangles free her wrists and fall to the floor in a bejeweled rain. 

"What's happening to me?" She whines, fear starting to creep over her. Mayhaps she's coming down with a fever. It would explain her scorching complexion, and the delirium plaguing her good sense. She's just not familiar with any sickness that makes her cunt wetter than the tides. 

"What is the meaning of all this?" Aemond's barbed words cut off in a choke, his hand flying to his nose as if to shield himself from something hideous. He sputters, his solo eye wrenching shut before he sucks in a heavy breath. 

The rise and fall of his chest grows labored, and Ysilla watches cautiously as he blinks himself back into the moment. His eye, once calculating and acutely focused, has gone hazy and the black dot in the center seems to have gulped down the silver steel of his iris. He looks at her then, truly looks at her, for the first time in years and takes stock of what lies in front of him. Ysilla feels no better than that roasted pig on the silver platter, left untouched on the dinner table. 

Every spot on her body that is roamed over by his singular sight erupts in a flaming burst, every sinew and stretch of supple skin being forged anew under her uncle's attention. The look on his face is one she's never seen before and she tries to find it within herself to be scared. Frightened. Petrified. Because all of his lingering animosity is absent, his signature sneer long gone and in their place, hunger has laid waste to his beauty. The Princess whimpers, the tightening behind her navel becoming nearly unbearable.

"Seven above… you're presenting." The awe in Aemond's tone is soft and it feels like balm on a blister. His voice is spiced wine and she wants to steal a sip. Ysilla blinks at him as his words register, annoyed confusion poking through the airiness of her uncle's voice. 

"What am I presenting?" 

Aemond looks at her, before he laughs. He laughs! Ysilla wasn't sure her uncle even knew how to do so. His laughter dies down into a chuckle, and he hums. "My silly girl… my Silli girl."

Ysilla melts into an even bigger puddle. Her shorthand from his lips is enough to have her swooning- he never calls her by her name. Never has he said it before so sweetly, gently, either. She enjoys it- no, she adores it. She wishes he'd say it again. She wishes for him to be closer, too, so that she can smell the musk of his odor, feel the rise of his chest… taste the flavor of his mouth-

Dinner, fighting, turmoil, all flow back into her mind, drowning her lust in a tidal pool of sense. 

"Qyybor, wait- do you know what's happening to me?" Ysilla will never doubt her willpower again as she pushes away from the desk and further into her apartments (further away from him). She shadows the wall, a shaky hand drifting along the cool stone to keep her steady. 

"Your true nature is coming through. The dawning of your destiny, burning its way through your very veins." Aemond's melodic tenor drops out, and Ysilla bites into her cheek to keep herself from begging him to continue. "Did your mother not tell you of this?"

"No, no, I don't- she didn't- ugh, I don't even know what this is! My 'true nature'? Speak plainly, Uncle. If you're here, help me." She groans, stilling in her movement. Walking is perhaps not the right answer. The continual brush of her thighs, the clenching of her abdomen, it all makes her cunt pound.

"Easy, Ysilla, relax." 

Her name again. Her spine jolts uncontrollably and she gasps. She presses her forehead into the wall, traitorous tears being summoned by the exquisite burn casting her aflame. 

She spooks like a frightened fawn as fingertips ghost over her exposed shoulder. Flinging herself away, a full circle now, Ysilla finds her back to the door and Aemond still in front of her. His hand remains outstretched, as if cast in plaster, frozen in a moment of emblazoned curiosity.

Or more, in a moment of desperate desire, per Aemond's swirling thoughts. He swings his head slowly to face Ysilla, the pearlescent wave of his hair slicing over his shoulder like a star through the sky. He feels too big for his skin, the very tissue of him, the sweet marrow in his bones pulsing, begging to be set loose and allowed to feast on the pretty little pound of flesh being presented to him. He wants to… well, he knows what he wants to do.

Her moans are soft, sweet, like succulent summer fruit, ripe and juicy and beseeching a hungry mouth. He presses a kiss to the corner of her lips to accompany the rough roll of his hips. His swollen knot tugs at the delicate tissue of her stretched opening, and the hot rush of ecstasy through her veins has gooseflesh rising along her naked skin. 

The rattle of the doorknob draws Aemond's attention to where it's demanded- on his Omega niece. Her fingertips just barely brush over the handle of the exit, one if she were to disappear through, he's sure she would be gone forever.  

"Don't run, zaldrītsos," Ysilla stumbles for breath at the Valyrian croon, wrapped up in the pretty bow of her uncle's spiked honeyed tone. He's so big, when did he get so big? Where was the boy she had stood shoulder-to-shoulder with her whole childhood? In his place now, a man grown. A man with strong, spread shoulders and capable hands, long legs and toned thighs. A man with a face chiseled and sharp, but soft in the perk of his lips. And an all consuming want in his eye for her.  

"I'll catch you. And I'll make you regret leaving me."

Something ancient inside of her roars to life, and the pulse between her legs and the beat inside of her chest are one in the same. 

"You don't own me…" 

Her uncle raises a brow, lips quirked up in a sinister sort-of smile. Ysilla bites at the tip of her tongue, keeping herself quiet, his name dancing at the backs of her teeth. 

You don't own me, Aemond.

You're still not good enough, Aemond. 

I'm meant for someone else, Aemond.  

He will accept none of the unvoiced.

She sees the muscle in his jaw flex and like the prey she is, she takes her chance. Ysilla is out the door and flying down the hall in a matter of seconds, her feet faster than her mind. She passes others, faceless smears of startled eyes and miffed mouths, not allowing her eyes to stray from the focused path in front of her.

One foot in front of the other, her skirts hiked high to her knees, slippers threatening to skid across the stones. Ysilla's lungs burn as she rounds another corner, dashing down a narrow staircase with far too much speed. She streaks through the night air like a lightning bug, her own gasps for air roaring in her ears. And if she strains her hearing just so, somewhere close behind the thundering of her heart, there's heavier footfalls in pursuit. In pursuit of her. The echoing memory of Aemond's laugh rings like sept bells in her head. 

I don't want to run from this. I don't want to run from him. 

The very appearance of that thought has Ysilla stilling in an instant. Her heels screech into the stone beneath her, the muscles in her calves twisting in tight terrible spasms. The hall she's found herself in is a well lit tomb, the final resting place of the girl she used to be and not yet the woman she'll become. 

Arms snake around her waist and the warmth of them sinks through the fine thread of her clothes. Smoke and citrus, oranges if she's being specific, wafts into her nose and she's never before felt a hunger like the one that bursts to life within her.  

"Got ya." Aemond whispers into her ear and Ysilla trembles at the dampness of his breath. He's caught her- he's won her. To the victor go the spoils. 

She's already rucking up her dress skirts to her hips to meet Aemond's hand palming at her mound. He presses hard into the bush of curls contained by her small clothes before guiding his touch further beneath her. He dips his fingertips just slightly in, pressing her soaked under slip into the blossoming folds of her core. 

"Ohhh, you're drenched, sweet girl." Aemond coos, his forearm a bar over her chest, caging her in from shoulder to shoulder. "Is this all for me?" 

Ysilla burns, in face and in cunt, letting her head drop back against his chest. He brushes his lips over the edge of her brow, and she lets a full body shiver race through her. 

"It got worse… when you were near me. I noticed it at dinner." She kept stealing looks all night at him, and for the life of her, couldn't figure out why. From where she was tucked by her mother, it had been easy to peek around her and drink her fill of her silent, brooding uncle. 

"That's why you were looking at me." He chuckles, smothering his face into her hair. He breathes in, filling his lungs with her sea salt scent. He caught a whiff of her earlier, when they all gathered to break bread, and not a scrap of food on the table was as tempting as her. 

Spurred on by the realization that it must've been him, the two of them in such close proximity after how many years apart, that has brought forward the truth of her blood is all the justification Aemond needs to take what is his. 

"Only for me." His voice is a rumbled growl and his fingers move faster, rubbing little circles over the covered peak of her clit. 

"Only for you." Ysilla moans, unable to think anymore. Her backside curves on an animal instinct, situating herself into the spread of his masculine hips. It hurts too much to wage a war with the screaming inside of her body. All she knows for certain is that Aemond's touch upon her heated flesh casts a most welcome chill and all of the layers keeping them apart is only fanning the flames scorching her innards to ash. 

"Take me, Aemond. Take what you want." She guides the hand once across her chest downwards, until the large sweep of his grip is full of her breast. He squeezes the heavy handful of it, and the hardening of her nipple cuts through the bust of her gown. Aemond wants them in his fucking mouth but he resists, if just barely, to whisper in here ear:

"No no, sweetling. Take me, Alpha." 

Ysilla screws up her brow- that's not a word she's ever heard before. She racks her brain for a possible Valyrian root but comes up empty handed.

"Alpha?"

Aemond's arms constrict around her tighter and his hips pitch forward, and the thick pulse of what's behind those leather breaches of his has her drooling. 

"Yesssss. Say it again." He commands, the threatening thunder brewing in his voice spilling over, and dripping hot into her ear.

Ysilla feels the sturdiness of him at her back- his legs planted, arms encircling her, his chin tickling at her temple. He's strong and firm and fit. He'll take good care of her, she just knows he will. Her blood, her bone. She may still be in the dark about what's overtaking her but her fear has fled. A white knight he may not be, but Aemond will be her savior tonight. 

She turns in his arms, blinking heavily at him over her shoulder. "Take me, Alpha. Now." 

A tethered force, their lips draw nearer and nearer, until suddenly, finally, they brush against one another. 

A blade meets Aemond's throat and Aegon rips him backwards and away no, no, come back to me from where Ysilla fights against sliding down the wall and melting into a puddle of dribbling want. 

"Let me go! Let me go!" Aemond thrashes about but for Aegon's credit, he plants his feet and holds strong. Dark Sister's fine point brushes at the bob of his throat, Daemon's aim too good to convey it as anything but a warning. He could spear him through with so little as a twitch. 

Ysilla shakes her head, as if to physically sort her thoughts. Without Aemond's citrus leather spice fragrant and cloying in her nose, the pain returns to her limbs tenfold and she clings to the cracks in the wall for support. Hands pat at her back, a soothing, sturdy tempo to accompany the blissful aroma of smoldering freesia. Her mother, certainly, and… Ysilla groans, and it has nothing to do with her growing discomfort. Lovely, her whole family is here to witness her debauchery. 

Jace whimpers, eyes blown big and Ysilla can see nothing of the oak brown irises that have always looked upon her with warmth. Luke, Baela, and Rhaena's heads all try to drift into focus but they're kept back and away from the dramatic scene by a sturdy line of armor-clad guards. Jace starts forward, to do what, she doesn't know because he doesn't get far. Daemon pushes him backwards, barking an order to a floundering servant to take him the fuck away from here. 

"It's okay, honey bee, it's okay." Her mother hushes her, tucking the curls Aemond had strewn about behind her ears with quivering fingers. Ysilla tries to focus, the cacophony of noise fading until it's just her and her parents in the once booming hall. But it's awfully difficult, her vision tunneling on her almost paramour. 

"Where did he go? Alph- Aemond. Where is he?" Ysilla tries to look down the corridor he had been hauled through, where a shouting Alicent had followed closely behind but it's a moot point. 

Rhaenyra looks horrified by something she said and she glances at Daemon for aid. Her stepfather stares at her and the weight of his attention is suffocating. Ysilla pulls at her dress, trying to look the least disheveled she can. Embarrassingly, the need is still there. The slick sweltering heat between her thighs still purring for attention, her breasts still peaked from her uncle's interest. 

"I'll handle him." Daemon spins on his heel, hand clenched at the hilt of Dark Sister and Ysilla frowns, worry creasing her forehead. Before she can think to do anything, her mother is pulling her away from the hall and further from the scent of Aemond still lingering in the air. 

.

The cells are olid and damp. Rats scurry about in the darkness, the scrape of their nails like the chattering of teeth. 

Aemond could see how men could lose their minds down here, how they could conjure things out of the dark that would rival their worst nightmares. How every small sound could echo down the twisting tunnels until it returned, warped and wicked before burrowing into their ears. 

Thankfully, the torches along the walls are lit- he's not a prisoner for real, it's all show. It's what he had quieted his mother with- if she were to scream any louder, he's sure the vein in her forehead would've popped. 

"Just until you've come back to yourself, Brother." Aegon had panted out, exhausted from wrestling his much taller sibling down several flights of stairs and into the bowels of the castle. "Didn't think you had it in you." Praise from Aegon was not something one usually strived for. A skewed needle on a moral compass, anything that impressed the firstborn son was certainly not of the highest caliber and not worthy of a response in Aemond's opinion. But still, the leer of Aegon's pride chafes at him something nasty.

His grandsire was there as well, something Aemond hadn't realized in his stupor, and the disappointment on his face had sobered him in an instant. He winces, thinking of the scene that his family must've come across. 

He can still feel Ysilla against him. The soft scent of the Essosi oils braided into her hair clings to his shirt where she had strained against him. The phantom press of her hips and how they had rocked against his palm, desperate for anything he was willing to give, keeps him awake and stubbornly aroused. 

A door opens and it sounds far off. Anticipation builds in Aemond's gut as someone draws closer to his cell, every small sound reverberating off the shadows. He stiffens his spine, prepared to take the brutal lashing from his mother, the decimating disapproval from his grandsire, the aberrant council from his sister. 

The caged Prince's visitor drifts closer until he stands, tall and proud, on the open side of the cell door. Aemond stares, in weary disbelief. Is he not being punished enough. Daemon smiles at him. Aemond frowns. 

"This suits you." Daemon gestures to the locked cell door, and he yanks on a stuck bar for emphasis. "After all, these lodgings are deserved of your kind. When I headed the Kingsguard, before your seed even found its way into your mother's womb, I oversaw the punishment we'd dole out onto the vermin of society. Thieves, murderers… rapists."

Aemond shoots to his feet, glaring daggers into the man he's ashamed to share blood with. 

"I did no such thing."

"No? I saw plenty- as did her mother, as did yours. Ysilla straining against you, heat sick and desperate, and you," Daemon sweeps him over with an acrimonious appraisal.  "You, a knothead Alpha, twice her size, flooding her senses with your stink, drowning her in it until she couldn't even command her own body. Hmm, I wonder what my brother will say, when he is told his favorite grandchild was nearly defiled by his own son. If he lets Rhaenyra chop off your balls, I'll make them into earrings for her."

"Why did you let her out of her chambers then? Why does she not know what she is?" Aemond grits out, fists clenching at his side. He still has his blade and he brushes at the hilt of it. 

"Or, was that it? Was it your plan to parade her in front of us all, and see who would take the bait so that you could banish us all down here and throw away the key?" 

Daemon doesn't grace him with an answer; he only stares, with thinly veiled fury deepening the wrinkles of his forehead. 

Aemond pauses, teeth in his tongue like it's a tough piece of meat. He'd rather swallow glass and shit out each piece instead of pleading with his father's brother. But he will not have himself be thought of as someone of such a vile nature. He won't have Ysilla think that. 

"I didn't know, Daemon. I didn't know she was an Ome-"

"Of course you fucking knew." The Alpha timbre of Daemon's voice makes the iron bars caging Aemond in quiver like a worm on a hook. "You are your grandfather's shadow. You have his gall, you have his arrogance, you have that same fucking glint in your eye that he has everytime he looks at my brother. You saw opportunity in the dawning of my daughter, and you jumped on it." 

"You're wrong."

Daemon tsks, walking backwards, drawing the curtain on his loathsome visit. "The thing is, Nephew, I'm not."

"You can't keep me here. You can't keep me away from her." Aemond doesn't have to shout, his voice reaching farther than he can follow.

"We'll see."

And then it's just him, alone, in the dimming darkness. The thoughts creep in, unbidden, like the rats, to gnaw at the edges of his mind.

The scent of Ysilla's slick, the sweet pheromones exuding from her every pore, both had sharpened when he finally had her in his arms. She had said it, had purred it, letting it drip off her lust-slick tongue. Take me, Alpha. Now.

She had wanted it. She had wanted him. 

Hadn't she? 

.

The screech of ancient hinges resounds from somewhere in the dark, and the accompanying fall of footsteps is thunderous in the still, silent air. 

"If this is the torture part of my stay, I'd rather put it off until the morrow. I'm tired." Aemond drawls, tucked into the furthest corner of his cell. Whomever his unwelcome guest is, stops in front of his locked door and stares from behind the darkness of their shroud. 

"… Uncle." In his would-be torturer's place is a tiny cloaked thing, who pushes back their hood to reveal the placid face of his niece. Aemond forces himself to rise on slow, steady feet instead of surging towards the bars like a man bewitched. 

He gets close enough that he catches the oceanic bloom of her perfume, and the sweet salt of it chases away the headache that was left after he was snatched away from her. He regards her in silence for a moment, letting the weight of what they had done together settle in the air around them. 

"How'd you get down here?" His voice is thicker than normal and Aemond has to clear his throat. 

"The guards, of course. I'm their future Queen- they know it's best to listen to me." Ysilla sniffs, digging the toe of her boot into the spongy earth below. The haughtiness in her tone is flimsy, as if she's not used to speaking in such a manner. Aemond finds that hard to believe- firstborn daughter and all. "And I may have also said I would feed them to Vhagar if they refused."

"She'd love that." He draws dryly. The silence they fall into is uncomfortable and he isn't the first to break it.

"Are you alright? No one… hurt you, did they?" Ysilla's voice is tiny, as if she's strengthening herself for an answer she may not like.

"Why?" Why do you care? 

The silence returns, heavier now, and Aemond sighs. He concedes, finding no delight in the worry written in the downturn of her mouth. "No, Niece, no one hurt me." 

The breath she releases sounds like a relieved one, or perhaps that's simply wishful thinking. Aemond rubs at his temples, the weight of the day starting to settle atop of him. 

"You look… more here." He means that she looks less likely to fall to her knees and swallow his cock, but he doesn't want to be crude. Maybe, there will be a more appropriate time for that later. 

"Well the tub full of water my mother dunked me in certainly helped." That explains the burst of her curls, springing from her head like an obsidian bouquet. 

"Did she tell you more about… earlier? About what happened to you?" About what nearly happened between us? More unspoken words, more half-truths and not quite-lies.

"She did. I'm still… letting it all sink in. Betas, Alphas… Omegas. The whole lot of it. I just wish she would've told me, obviously before what transpired between us. I wouldn't have put you in that position if I would've known. I would've… given you the option, I wish. To truly want me and not just the allure of my second sex." 

Aemond blinks and does so again, and yet her words still ring in his ears. He wonders idylly if that truly slipped from her mouth, or if the dungeon is doing it's duty and twisting them into what he wants to hear. He didn't force her. He didn't hurt her. A wisp of hope rises as if from a snuffed out candle, and he stamps it out before it can blossom into anything tangible. 

"What happened before was just your instincts talking. I… I shouldn't have let it get that far. You made me lose control is all." It's a coward's way out, blaming her for his absolute lack of resolve. But he can realize now, without her lithe body pressed invitingly against him- tucked so tightly to him, filling his every jagged edge with the bloom of her curves- that there's more at stake here than just the purity of Ysilla's virtue. 

"No! You made me… feel things. Things I've never, ever felt before. Not for anyone." Tension builds, stacking like stones, as she lets her gaze caress him from head to toe. Aemond shivers, heat trickling into his belly, a pot that sprung a leak. "I want to feel them again." Her voice is firm, even if her eyes are wide. 

Aemond swallows, feeling as if the ground beneath him has started to rock. Again. It means so many things. A repeat of what happened in that hallway only this time, no one would be there to stop them. He would take her to his apartments, spread her over his sheets, and take his time unburdening her of every suffocating layer of clothing. And then, when she was naked and bare for him to feast his famished gaze on, he'd ravage her. 

Again means hope (of a future, of a family, of happiness.) And he can't stomach it- when he nearly knows for certain that he'll never be allowed alone with her after tonight's happenings. His voice is hard when he speaks again.

"Our family is on the brink of shattering. We can't even have dinner together without being at each other's throats."

"Mayhaps we can fix that." She shrugs, a careless shift of her shoulders and a lovely little peak of a smile accompanies it. Aemond is starting to realize he'd do anything to see joy warm her face into that glorious pink flush, and same as before, he tears any chance of bliss into pieces.

"Us fucking could save our family?" It's crass and unlike him to say, but he must. He has to make her understand. 

Ysilla shakes her head, resolve bright in her burning indigo stare. "Us mating could save our family." 

Aemond stares at her as if she's grown a second head. 

"Don't speak of things you have no knowledge of."  

The weight of his influence is crushing and Ysilla fights the urge to bare her neck to him. A stubborn growl manifests instead, her annoyance overtaking whatever urge her "true nature" tries to make her bend to. She is well-read, she is smart. And it's as if every shred of knowledge she possesses is now for naught in this new life she's been tossed into. 

"Then teach me, Aemond." Ysilla stresses, and the tremble in her voice is a surprise. Why is she crying? "Don't leave me alone in this."

Despair turns his stomach inside out. She's upset, she's scared. She needs me, me, I'm her Alpha. The Targaryen son breaks, from no less than three tears swimming over his niece's lashes. 

"Sweet girl, come now, there's no need for your sorrow." He presses himself to the bars to get as close to her as allowed. 

"No, no." Ysilla huffs, lips wobbling in frustration. Aemond looks at her with worried confusion, his fingertips still chasing away the teardrops staining her cheeks. 

"Say my name." She demands in a shaky voice. "Not niece, not sweet thing. My name."

His hand overlaps her's, sharing the bar they both grip onto as if it's a lifeline. The brush of their skin, so simple, so decorous, sends them both plummeting into oblivion. 

"Ysilla."

Their lips meet through the gaps in the bars, the space not nearly wide enough to make it a proper kiss but it will have to do because Ysilla needs a taste of him. 

Maybe if she hikes her legs through the slats, he can pull her close enough to slide his cock inside of her. The vision of that, of Aemond throwing himself against the iron keeping him caged, hips pummeling as he works himself up between her thighs before finally, finally emptying his seed into her womb, has Ysilla sliding her hand to the back of his head to pull him in harder to suck at his bottom lip. Aemond moans at that and moans even deeper as she cards her fingers through his silken strands to tug. 

She has to retreat, air desperately missing her lungs. Aemond hums, the vibration echoing through his chest and scattering the shadows about the chamber. He kisses the side of her mouth and then the dip of her chin, and then lower to that long line of her throat before the blasted door gets in his way. 

"Just wait until I get out of here- I'll show you how a Princess should be treated." He growls, sucking an obvious bruise at the hinge of her jaw.

"Why not now?" Ysilla whispers, finding his loving mouth again before her tongue sweeps forward to meet his.

Like a sweet dream, visions of little Targlings running amok through the halls of the castle spring forth in her head. Boys with violet eyes and snow white hair tumble about, while little girls of a chestnut pallor clothed in black and green laugh a musical sound. 

Aemond's palm finds the small of her back, his hand wide enough to the thumb at the edge of her spine and massage the bud of her buttocks. He impels her to him and the iron gate digging into the soft flesh of her breasts has her whimpering. 

"The first time I take you," he pulls back to look into her eyes. Her lips are puffy, the color of crushed berries and she tastes just as sweet. It's only the two of them, again, and it's exhilarating. "The first time I knot you, will be in a place worthy of a princess."

Mmmm, knot, is it? For the first time that day, Ysilla doesn't feel the stinging strike of her ignorance. Whatever Aemond means, from the way he whispers that promise to her, assures her he will only bring her the greatest of pleasure. 

"Then I best get you out of here, shouldn't I?" She steals another kiss and nips at his lip for good measure. A love bite. Aemond groans as she pulls away, and the palm on her back slides down to cup the back of her thigh. He squeezes the pillowy softness of her, and tries not to bust out of his breeches at the way her body just gives for him.

A question in her gaze is answered by the apprehension in his. She rubs her thumb over his knuckles and gives him that grin again, and all feels right in the world.  

"I'll be back, promise."

He dusts his lips over the back of her hand, scenting her with his spiced attar. He likes the perfume the two of them make- it'll smell even better when his bed is soaked in it. 

"I'll be waiting."

.

.

.

Qyybor . Uncle

zaldrītsos . little dragon

[identitty-dickruption]

Is there anything that you see when someone writes addiction/alcohol addiction specifically that really annoys you? As someone trying to write something related rn, having someone who actually knows about it's perspective is really useful :]. Obviously no pressure to answer! Have a nice day <3

oh absolutely yes. I've seen some truly shocking things of late. and also in general very happy to bitch about it for a bit

it may sound obvious but don't. like. blame the entirety of a person's addiction on a single factor or act like "if only they had access to x piece of information, they wouldn't be an addict!". in candy house by Jennifer Egan, one of the characters became an addict because of her dyslexia and her inability to find fictional characters who Truly Understood Her. don't do that.

try not to smooth them out into a singular dimensional person. or even a two dimensional person (where the two dimensions are addiction and trauma or whatever). an addict is a human being. weirdly difficult for people to conceptualise this

NOBODY gets withdrawal right. withdrawal is Not a couple shakes and then you're good. withdrawal can last weeks, if not months, depending on how dependent the person was on the substance and depending on what the substance is

similar to the above, if someone relapses while they're experiencing withdrawal, the withdrawal symptoms do not immediately disappear. if you're throwing your guts up you won't be magically fine the moment you get your substance in you. you will still feel incredibly shit for a good couple hours Minimum

implying that addiction is inherently irrational, or selfish, or stupid. addiction is a response to a set of circumstances that make sense to a person at the time. nobody becomes an addict for shits and giggles. there is always something else going on

likewise, the "high functioning alcoholic" trope has. problems. like I spent an entire year being tipsy non-stop while I was also doing alright in university and whatever. very definition of high-functioning alcoholism I guess. but I think those characters are done Poorly a lot of the time in that the nature of the interpersonal issues they have never feels Quite Right

"I got sober for love" shut the fuck up. "you saved me from myself" go away. "one real human relationship fixed my dependency on substances" no it did not. if love cured all ills, I would be the healthiest guy on the planet. it simply does not work that way <- falling in love makes it easier to love myself and have hope for the future but at the end of the day I'm still a traumatised bitch who struggles with shit

the entire concept of an intervention. addiction does not end with One Grand Event that will make everything better. forcing someone to go to rehab barely ever works. interventions are not one-off events, they are a series of kind and compassionate conversations that occur over a long period of time

sorry this ended up being a lot more than I thought it would. I think if you asked me again tomorrow I would have five to ten more things to bitch about. idk. people get the complexities of addiction wrong A Lot and I've read/seen more bad rep than good rep. but oh well. it's important to me that people are out there trying their best to do better! so thanks for asking

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

it is so important to me that within the very last scene Monty appears, he is spoken to with kindness. and by Charles, of all people.

because the only person that Monty seems to have regularly known is Esther, and she treats him with anything but kindness. it's very safe to assume that Monty has presumably spent the vast majority of his life being berated, attacked and neglected by her. there has never been a moment that showed Monty receiving any sort of gentleness or tenderness from her. when Esther does compliment him, it's only to do with how good-looking she made him as a human. and that's her own handiwork. Monty himself is never praised, never acknowledged, never seen for any of his own efforts to assist her. yet, she was quick to both see and act the second he messed up, and not even through fault of his own.

it's so incredibly touching that Monty is finally praised for his own actions when we part ways with him. and by the very person he dislikes so much. Monty bitterly resents Charles. he's not shy about it. Charles is not unaware of it. he isn't all that fond of Monty himself. and yet, Charles is the one to end things on a positive note. it should be ironic, but it isn't at all. it makes complete sense.

of course it's Charles that Monty shares this final moment of his with. Charles is not an idiot, so i'm certain he could somewhat tell that Monty is a victim of abuse. the victim of an abusive parent-like figure, no less. just like him. Charles is rightly furious at what Monty has done, but how could he truly hate him? when he knows full well what it's like to be so scared of the person who's meant to look after you? when he knows full well that horrible feeling of being trapped without any escape in sight? Charles has also experienced being treat in a disgusting, violent manner for no reason at all. he may not have been serving an impossible-to-please witch like Monty is, but no matter how athletic, hard-working or friendly he was, Charles could never escape his father's terrifying anger, all efforts of his rendered futile.

it's interesting that Charles doesn't seem all that shocked in this moment, to see Monty act against Esther. he's glad, but i don't reckon his expression is one of surprise? it's almost as if Charles already had some sort of faith in Monty, even though the crow has given him absolutely no reason to trust him, quite the opposite. but maybe that's not so strange. Monty is like Charles. Charles is the person who outright said that he's desperate for people like him to be right, to be good. we saw how devastated he was when Brad and Hunter were not.

so, these words from Charles must have mattered to Monty greatly. people who are abused, especially by those who are meant to look after them, such as their parents, can often be led to believe that their abuser's actions are somehow "justified," even if it's not a thought they're fully conscious of. Monty isn't entirely naïve, at least outwardly. he clearly isn't under the impression that Esther actually cares for him, considering how bitterly he speaks to her. but deep down, there must be a reason he still stays with Esther, because he isn't restrained physically. Monty's cage is unlocked, he's "free" to fly around as he pleases, even shown to go outside at one point. he doesn't fly away from her, though. and that may be because he unconsciously feels that he owes Esther his complete loyalty.

but this moment could have changed that. if Charles, who Monty doesn't like and isn't liked by in return, who Monty was impolite and passive-aggressive to can speak to him kindly - what right does Esther, who Monty tries to be helpful to, have to treat him with such cruelty? what right does she have to scream at him, to grab him, to mutilate him? when he's done nothing but be her loyal familiar, having only committed the sin of feeling too much for her liking, human feelings that she forced upon him?

this scene is towards the end of the show for us. but for Monty, maybe it's a turning point in his life.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

the proposition of a lifetime - b.b.

✯ pairing:

best friend!bucky x fem!reader

✯ summary:

you're not very experienced with sex, your skill are minimal at best and you know your boyfriend wants to do more. so what's a girl to do? go to her best friend for training, of course.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of sexual tension, detailed descriptions of a blow job in a car, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity and i have rewritten + reshared it here :) this was written way back in early 2023 i believe!

Bucky heard the faintest of knocks against his mahogany office door and as he glanced at the clock, he realized his sweet girl was just on time. Every Thursday at precisely three pm, you came to see him and the two of you had dinner together. It was a constant in the busy and the unknown and there was no better person to help you with your problem than your best friend, right? 

“Hey, pretty girl. How was your day?” 

He stood from the black leather beneath him and rolled the chair away from the desk with the backs of his knees. He was dressed in black slacks and a white button down shirt. His day had been long, you could tell by the pale blue tie that was once around his neck laying draped across the back of his chair. He smiled at you and brought his arms open, gesturing for you to place yourself in between them – a proper greeting. 

"It was okay. Listen – I was kinda hoping you could help me with something.” you replied as Bucky ran his hands up and down your back. 

The hair on the back of his neck stood up, his mind immediately wondered if you were in trouble, his senses always heightened at the thought of danger, especially when it came to you. He pursed his lips for a moment before he traced your features with his eyes – you seemed upset, sad even; or was it embarrassment that coated your cheeks with heat? He couldn’t put his finger on it. 

"Tell me how your day was – for real.” He replied, keeping his tone neutral. "Then, I'll offer up my services, sweetheart.” 

You chuckled and rolled your eyes as he gave you that classic James Barnes smile – it was kind and coated with sexual appeal and it fit in with the creases of his eyes like a puzzle piece. 

“Okay – fine. My day was fine, Buck, nothing special about it. I’m just feeling insecure, I guess.” 

You averted his eyes, knowing he was going to give you some lecture about how perfect you are or try to kill whoever had made you feel that way. 

“What’s making you feel insecure, doll? Or, is it someone in particular? You know whoever it is, I'll kill them – just say the word.” 

His expression was stone cold, the same one you had seen him wear only in the face of the world’s most dangerous mobsters and criminals – just before he killed them. 

“You can’t kill my boyfriend, Buck.” 

Your tone was flat.

“Brad? Or whatever his name is? Of course, I can.” 

He snorted out, laughing as if he actually took your little comment seriously. 

“Doll, what’s going on? What did he do?” 

You threw your head back and your hands flew at your face, wiping down it roughly. 

“He hasn’t done anything, Buck. It’s me – the problem is me.” 

“Come on, doll – talk to me.” 

Bucky urged. 

"It's sorta... embarrassing." 

You replied, shyly, rubbing at your hands until they were white. 

"It’s just me – just Bucky, baby. You can talk to me.” 

He responded, grabbing your hands in his. 

“I mean, I've already talked to some of my friends about it, but they can't help me the way I want."

"Okay.” He said, wondering what kind of help she could need, ignoring his more perverted thoughts and his brain switching into protective mode, again wondering if she was in some sort of trouble. 

"Thank you, Bucky.” You beamed, bouncing again. 

This time, it was all he could do not to stare openly at the motion of your unrestrained boobs; gawking at your nipples that you hadn’t bothered to cover up underneath your shirt.

“It's my boyfriend, Brad. He's... he wants... well, what every guy wants. I'm not sure I'm ready, but I don't want him to dump me."

Bucky forced words out of his dry mouth, doing his best to ignore his growing arousal. "If you're not ready for something, don't do it."

"Yeah, I know. But I think I might be ready for, um, other things."

He only nodded in response in an attempt to hide as he was about to choke on his words. The girl he had been in love with for so long was actually talking about sex with him? 

"If your girlfriend wasn't ready for, you know... sex... what would have been enough for you not to look elsewhere?"

You almost whispered the word "sex," and your face took on a pink cast at the same time. Your apparent embarrassment, as well as a wave of protective feelings, aided Bucky in repressing what he knew to be inappropriate lust for his friend. He pondered how to answer her question.

"If he's pressuring you, he's not worth keeping, sweetheart.” He said, giving in to his protective impulses.

"You sound like my mom.” You pouted, arms crossed under your breasts. "What do you think as a guy?"

‘I dont blame him – i’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, doll.’ He thought, but he pushed it aside, attempting to craft an honest, but also responsible answer.

"As much as I could get, I guess.” He said, wishing he had come up with something else. "But I would be pushing you – or, whoever I was with." 

He quickly caught himself at the end of his sentence in an attempt to smooth things over enough where you wouldn’t notice what he had just said. 

"Did you ever get a blowie from a girl?"

It took Bucky a moment to understand what you meant, as he had never heard anyone refer to a blowjob like that before. Several more seconds passed before he could formulate a response.

"There was a girl I dated who... we explored each other in, um, several ways." 

He all but stuttered as he tried to speak, but he could feel his semi-erect penis as he tried to formulate a coherent thought. 

"But she went down on you, right?"

You questioned.

"Yes, she did. But she wanted to, um, explore. I would never have pressured her to do it." As the words left his mouth, he cringed at the truth they hid. He had not directly coerced the girl in question, but he knew she had felt pressure anyway. 

"And it was enough?" 

You asked him point blank. 

"It was more than enough.” He grinned. "But if she had not wanted to..." 

He trailed off.

"I don't know how to, um, give a blowie.” You spoke, suddenly shy and your eyes locked on the floor. "I want to... I mean, I want to make him happy and all, but... what if I'm not good at it?" 

You looked at him doe-eyed and full of anxiety and he almost busted right there – just looking at you.

"I'm not sure we should be having this conversation.” Bucky replied, immediately regretting the words as they hit your skin and hurt filled your irises. 

"But I need your help. All my friends, at least the ones who've done it, say guys will like it no matter what. Some of them gave me pointers, and I've watched videos on the internet too, but... I think I need to practice first."

Your fingers stroked his forearm. Shining eyes met his, and he saw a plea in them. But his mind could not accept what his body, especially his cock, already had.

"I've heard some girls use cucumbers.” Bucky said.

"I've done that.” You said, "But cucumbers can't tell me whether I'm doing a good job or teach me to do it better. I need a man for that. A man who I know is a good teacher. I need you." 

Bucky’s eyes almost popped out of his head at your response. He never in a million years thought that he’d see this day or that it would play out like this – you practically begging him to teach you how to suck a dick – his dick. 

"Y/N, I can't... we can't..." 

His objection was half-assed. 

"Please, Buck. I need your help."

You begged again. 

"Okay. But no one can know." His erection throbbed in his jeans at his words, and his heart hammered. Deep down in his mind, his conscience attempted to object, but he ignored it.

"It'll be our secret, Bucky," You squealed, before hugging him, your firm breasts pressing against his lower torso, your lower abdomen against his rigid cock. He hugged you back, stroking your soft hair, not thinking about any possible consequences.

"We can go to my house.” He suggested, breaking the hug. "Maybe use pillows from the couch for you to kneel on.” 

"Can we do it in your car? Brad has one, and that's probably where I'd do it with him."

Bucky hesitated, watching you chew your bottom lip as you waited for his answer. What you proposed made sense, but he suspected it would be easier for you to learn, as well as more pleasurable for him, if they were both comfortable. However, now that he was committed, he did not want to mess up the chance to be the first guy his sweet girl went down on.

"Sure.” He said. "It'll be a bit more awkward, but it will prepare you for later."

"Thanks," You beamed, giving him a kiss on the cheek before running around to the passenger side of the car. He watched your ass and wondered if Brad knew how lucky he was. Bucky didn’t have to wonder – he knew. 

Your cheeks were pink again as you sat on the bench seat and stared straight ahead, hands in your lap. For a moment, his guilt returned. Had you not pushed out your chest at that exact same time, Bucky might have backed out. But the sight of those firm, round tits encased by only your thin t-shirt proved to be too much. He buried his doubts and slid into the car.

"If we're parking, we need some music.” He told you, turning the key to accessory so the radio would come on. "Is classic rock okay?"

"I guess," you shrugged, still looking out the windshield rather than at him. That allowed him to watch your boobs bounce with the shrug.

He turned up the radio, took your hand as gently as he could, and moved it to the bulge in his dress pants. Your fingers lay there for a second or two before you moved them away.

"I'm not... um... can we make out first?" 

You questioned awkwardly.

"If you aren't sure about this..."

He started, but you interrupted reassuring him. 

"I'm sure, Buck," you said, interrupting and turning your eyes to him. "I just think I need to, uh... work up to it, you know?"

"Sure, doll," Bucky replied, running a finger down her cheek. 

He leaned close to you, smelling the scent of vanilla as he did, pausing for a moment to breathe you in. You moved your head back and blinked. He sat back up and patted the seat beside him. You chewed her bottom lip, then scooted next to him. He stroked your soft cheek again. You sighed and did the same to him. Your eyes never left each other's as he lowered his lips to yours. Any trepidation you might have been experiencing seemed to vanish the moment your lips met. You grasped the back of his head and pulled his mouth tighter to yours. His tongue pushed between your lips, only to meet yours. He grabbed your waist, pulling you around to face him. Your free hand traced up his forearm and his free hand clutched one of your boobs. He marveled at the combination of softness and firmness. You moaned into his mouth when he found your nipple and lightly rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. He switched to your other boob and did the same thing. You moaned louder, which encouraged Bucky. Breaking their kiss, he grabbed the bottom of your shirt and started to lift it. He pulled the t-shirt over your head and up-stretched arms, mesmerized by your tits. They projected from your slender chest almost torpedo style, the tips capped with small, pink areolas and slightly darker nipples. Each more than a handful, he nonetheless did his best to grasp all of them as he dropped his mouth to one. Your fingers laced through his hair. You started to pull his face away, but reversed your effort as soon as he sucked your firm nipple between his lips and tongued it.

"Oh God, that feels good.” You groaned, pushing your chest out toward him. 

While he feasted on your magnificent breasts, he pulled your hand from his arm and into his lap. You hesitated, then your fingers closed around the length of his erection where it strained against the fabric of his pants.

"Your... thingy is very hard.” You whispered, your fingers tracing its outline.

"If you're going to suck it, you can say 'dick' or 'cock'," He told you, sitting up to look you in the eye.

"Your cock is very hard," you said, blushing. Still, your words were louder and more confident, and Bucky decided it was time to move their lesson forward.

"Take it out," He instructed, leaning his shoulders back against the seat.

Thin, soft fingers fumbled at the top button of his fly. Once you had it loose, you tugged, probably thinking that there would be a zipper. In what was probably less time than it seemed, you had his pants undone. He wiggled them down to mid-thigh, exposing his black boxer-briefs. Your fingers touched his dick through the soft cotton, and it jerked. You pulled your hand away a couple of inches and gasped, eyes darting up to his. He nodded to encourage you. After a deep breath, you ran your fingers up his length. This time, you did not stop when it moved at your touch.

"I've only felt Brad’s through his jeans. It's softer than I thought it'd be. But hard too. Really hard." 

You commented.

"Do you want to see it?" Bucky asked, and you nodded, eager eyes not leaving his crotch. 

He considered telling you to pull his briefs down, but he didn't want to wait. He freed his erection, which sprung straight up. You drew in a sharp breath, then touched his shaft with trembling fingers. His cock jerked to the side, but you never lost contact.

"Wrap your hand around it," He instructed, and you obliged. He groaned, fighting to keep his hips from thrusting up.

"It's bigger than I expected... and warm," you said, eyes meeting his, a grin on your face. "I didn't think... I mean, it makes sense but... this is... incredible." You gripped his dick tighter, squeezing it.

"Stroke up and down, doll.” 

You nodded then looked back down at his lap. Your fingers loosened and slid up and down the shaft a few times before wandering to the head.

"I love how soft the skin is even though it's so hard inside," you said before moving your thumb up the glans to the slit. "Is this cum?"

"Pre-cum." He said, resisting the urge to grab a fistful of hair and move your lips down to his crotch. "It leaks out when a man's hard."

"I didn't know that. So, when I suck your thing... your cock, it'll do that?" 

You questioned.

"Yes." 

He replied.

"Oh. Should I taste it now?"

"If you want."

You wiped up a glob of his fluid with your thumb and brought it to your mouth. Your tongue pushed out to taste it. A strange look crossed your face, and your gaze rose to his.

"It's... weird," you said. "Sweet and salty. And something like... soap? That's not it but...something..."

Shrugging, you sucked your thumb into your mouth, then pulled it out with a 'pop'. His cock twitched.

"Does cum taste the same?”

You questioned; intrigued with the idea of his manhood and just how it all worked. 

"Stronger, but similar." 

He responded, grinning ear-to-ear at your innocence and the part he was about to have in stripping it from you. He wondered how long it would be before you needed to ‘practice’ having sex before doing it with Brad – there’s nothing Bucky wanted more than to be your first everything. 

"I think I like it," you grinned. "But it's different than I expected. My friends who've tasted it said it's bitter or sour. But it's not." 

You commented.

"I think it's time for the next step." 

He said with a sly smile. 

"What should I do?" 

You questioned, awaiting his instruction.

"Kiss the tip."

You nodded, licked your lips, and leaned down into his lap. Your lips brushed the glans of his cock once, tentatively. The second time was surer. The third, you wrapped your lips around the very tip and sucked. His dick twitched in response, and you did it again. Bucky wanted to tell you to take more, but he saw that your position might be too awkward.

"Scoot back a little and lie on your tummy on the seat, doll.” He told you, and you complied, knees bent so your calves and feet stuck in the air. 

The change in position left your face hovering over his groin, and he nudged you downward. You took the hint, and seconds later, you slurped the entire glans of his penis in your mouth. He groaned, doing his best not to push harder on your head. He needed to let you do this in your own time.

"Move your tongue while you suck," He told you, and you wiggled it. "Yes... like that. Now take a little bit more down... watch the teeth.” 

You pulled up, alarmed eyes locking on his.

"Sorry..."

You trailed off.

"It's okay. It happens, especially for girls new to sucking cock. Try this, suck on your finger. Yes, like that. Now, scrape your teeth along it. It's a thousand times worse than that." 

You looked at him with wide eyes as you followed his instructions, apologizing again. 

"Sorry." 

"It's okay. But you have to make sure your lips protect a guy from your teeth. Here." 

Bucky took your finger, sucked it into his mouth, his lips moving up and down it. You shuddered, and what sounded like a disappointed noise escaped your parted lips when he removed his mouth from your finger.

"Now, you try," He said, holding out his index finger. You wrapped your lips around it and slid them to the base then back up.

"Good, now add suction."

You did as instructed, hollowing out your cheeks. He’d always liked a woman sucking on his fingers, and you were certainly no exception.

"Very good, sweetheart.” He told you a few seconds later. "Now add some tongue movement. Oh yeah, just like that."

You attacked his finger, sucking hard, lips sliding up and down its length, tongue wiggling. ‘If you could do that to a cock, you’d have boys eating out of her hand’, Bucky thought to himself. 

"Okay, now do the same to my cock," He said. 

You pulled your lips from his finger, grinned, and dropped your face to his lap, giving the tip of his cock a wet kiss. Bucky groaned, bucked his hips, and applied what he hoped was gentle pressure to your head. You didn’t resist, sliding your lips - no teeth this time - down a couple of inches of his cock. He groaned again. Slowly at first, you bobbed your head up and down, concentrating your efforts on the first third or so of his shaft. A few times, you took at least half of his almost seven-inch length, but much more than that caused you to gag and back off.

"That feels fantastic.” He told you, and you turned your eyes up to meet his. You held each other's gaze for several seconds, but your suction on his cock never lessened and your tongue never stilled.

"Try going faster," He suggested, and you nodded. 

Facing down again, you picked up speed. As you did so, the slurping sounds around his shaft grew louder. He ran his fingers through your soft hair, resisting grabbing a fistful and forcing you to go even faster. As it was, the tempo caused his novice cocksucker to take more in on each downstroke, and the times that you gagged increased in frequency as well. It was all as hot as hell, and sooner than Bucky would have liked, he realized he had reached the edge of no return.

"That's so good, doll, I'm really close. Concentrate near the head. Yeah, that's... wait... a little deeper... yes... perfect. Suck hard. God yes. Harder."

You sucked on the first couple of inches of his dick. You’d pulled up too far at first and slurped on the overly sensitive glans. But now your lips tightened just below, and your tongue massaged it gently. He shifted in his seat, groaned, grasped your head, and exploded. The first spurt of cum into your mouth must have taken you by surprise, because you sputtered around his shaft and attempted to raise your head. 

Bucky held it in place, however, his hips bucked with each shot and given that you did not struggle more and were not gagging, he figured you had adjusted and were swallowing it all. As it turned out, he was quite wrong. After the last little bit of cum dribbled out of his cock, he dropped his hands from your head. You bolted upright, lips clamped shut, panic in your wide eyes. Rivulets of mascara formed under your moist eyelids. Lower, cum seeped out both corners of your mouth, adding to the flow already running down your chin.

"Swallow it, sweet girl.” He instructed after a couple of seconds. You whimpered, shaking your head. 

"It's the easiest way, baby," he shrugged. "Otherwise, it'll just make a big mess. Well, a bigger mess."

You whimpered again, closing your eyes, and swallowing. It took two tries to get it all down, and you shuddered afterward. A drop fell from your chin to one sweet, young tit and started to slide along its curve.

"Show me your mouth," He said, adding, "wider," when you opened it maybe an inch. You did as he asked, and he saw a little white residue in a mostly empty mouth.

"Good girl," He said, patting your head. She gave him a weak smile and wiped her eyes. Another drop of cum joined the first on her breast.

"Here, I'll help," He told her, using his finger to push some of the cum on her chin up to her lips. The girl hesitated, so he thrust his messy finger into her mouth. She closed her eyes and sucked his digit. He fed her the rest in the same way, finishing up with the two drops that had made it to her chest. After a few moments you looked at him, settled back into the passenger seat and gave him a smile, lowering your hand to his thigh. 

“Thank you, Buck – I owe you one.” 

He smiled in return. 

“So what’s your plan, doll? Are you going to use all these new skills on that pathetic excuse for a boyfriend?” 

He asked with a teasing scoff at the sound or more so the idea of Brad and you being intimate – it made him shudder. You rolled your eyes before placing his cheeks in your hands and brushing your nose against his. 

“Silly boy – I broke up with him two weeks ago.” 

You whispered before Bucky let out a giggle and eradicated the space in between the two of you, colliding into your lips with his. 

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Character Development: 70 Questions

Self-Reflective Questions. To help jumpstart self-reflection (Woronko, n.d.):

Am I using my time wisely?

Am I taking anything for granted?

Am I employing a healthy perspective?

Am I living true to myself?

Am I waking up in the morning ready to take on the day?

Am I thinking negative thoughts before I fall asleep?

Am I putting enough effort into my relationships?

Am I taking care of myself physically?

Am I letting matters that are out of my control stress me out?

Am I achieving the goals that I’ve set for myself?

The following are questions you can ask yourself every day to get to know yourself better (William, n.d.):

Who am I, really?

What worries me most about the future?

If this were the last day of my life, would I have the same plans for today?

What am I really scared of?

Am I holding on to something I need to let go of?

If not now, then when?

What matters most in my life?

What am I doing about the things that matter most in my life?

Why do I matter?

Have I done anything lately that’s worth remembering?

Have I made someone smile today?

What have I given up on?

When did I last push the boundaries of my comfort zone?

If I had to instill one piece of advice in a newborn baby, what advice would I give?

What small act of kindness was I once shown that I will never forget?

How will I live, knowing I will die?

What do I need to change about myself?

Is it more important to love or be loved?

How many of my friends would I trust with my life?

Who has had the greatest impact on my life?

Would I break the law to save a loved one?

Would I steal to feed a starving child?

What do I want most in life?

What is life asking of me?

Which is worse: failing or never trying?

If I try to fail and succeed, what have I done?

What’s the one thing I’d like others to remember about me at the end of my life?

Does it really matter what others think about me?

To what degree have I actually controlled the course of my life?

When all is said and done, what will I have said more than I’ve done?

These prompts and questions are great ways to put your journal to use (Tartakovsky, 2014):

My favorite way to spend the day is . . .

If I could talk to my teenage self, the one thing I would say is . . .

The two moments I’ll never forget in my life are . . . (Describe them in great detail, and what makes them so unforgettable.)

Make a list of 30 things that make you smile.

“Write about a moment experienced through your body. Making love, making breakfast, going to a party, having a fight, an experience you’ve had or you imagine for your character. Leave out thought and emotion, and let all information be conveyed through the body and senses.”

The words I’d like to live by are . . .

I couldn’t imagine living without . . .

When I’m in pain—physical or emotional—the kindest thing I can do for myself is . . .

Make a list of the people in your life who genuinely support you, and whom you can genuinely trust. Then, make time to hang out with them.

What does unconditional love look like for you?

What things would you do if you loved yourself unconditionally? How can you act on these things, even if you’re not yet able to love yourself unconditionally?

I really wish others knew this about me . . .

Name what is enough for you.

If my body could talk, it would say . . .

Name a compassionate way you’ve supported a friend recently. Then, write down how you can do the same for yourself.

What do you love about life?

What always brings tears to your eyes? (As Paulo Coelho has said, “Tears are words that need to be written.”)

Write about a time when your work felt real, necessary and satisfying to you, whether the work was paid or unpaid, professional or domestic, physical or mental.

Write about your first love—whether it’s a person, place or thing.

Using 10 words, describe yourself.

What’s surprised you the most about your life or life in general?

What can you learn from your biggest mistakes?

I feel most energized when . . .

“Write a list of questions to which you urgently need answers.”

Make a list of everything that inspires you—whether books, websites, quotes, people, paintings, stores, or stars in the sky.

What’s one topic you need to learn more about to help you live a more fulfilling life? (Then, follow through and learn more about that topic.)

I feel happiest in my skin when . . .

Make a list of everything you’d like to say no to.

Make a list of everything you’d like to say yes to.

Write the words you need to hear.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[t3am-r0adk1ll]

— NSFW Alphabet with Tim!

god did i have fun writing this 😈 and i hope you have fun reading it!!

*all these headcanons are assuming s/o and Tim are already in a relationship, I don’t see him as one to have fuck buddies or one-night-stands.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) It’s a different story between Tim and Masky. One will check up on you, ask how it was and how you feel, if you need anything, and will clean you up if you just wanna cuddle/sleep after. And then the other one is less attentive. At most he’ll lazily clean you up if you insist and bring you water if you really need it and he’s not feeling lazy enough not to do so. And he just won’t stay around longer than necessary, in his mindset he’s got “better shit to do.”

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) I feel like Tim’s and Masky’s favorite body part of themselves is their arms. ‘Cause they’re strong, useful, and Masky loves to easily pin you down while Tim loves holding you.

Now their favorite body part of yours would be your ass and thighs. Idk he strikes me as a thigh man. And ass. Ass and thigh. Masky doesn’t really mind that stuff as long as he’s got a hole to put it in (sorry but he’s just not romantic like that).

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Breeding kink, anyone? Tim would have one. Thinking about knocking you up and making a pretty little family really does it for him. Yk gives him hope that he can have a normal life for a little bit. Even if you can’t get pregnant, he likes to entertain that idea in his head while he’s balls-deep in you. So that means he will cum inside as long as you let him. Oh also he cums a lot, and it’s more thick than watery (bro doesn’t have a balanced diet cmon y’all, with all those blackouts and stuff? yeah I think not).

Masky likes cumming on your face, with your tongue out. Feels like he’s marking you. But also humiliating you. So he gets a little kick out of it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Tim doesn’t need Masky to front to be stealing your underwear, lemme tell you that. If he could, before you were dating, he was already making a collection of used underwear of yours. Yes he sniffed them while jerking off and yes he sniffed them to sleep sometimes.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) I’d say you’re not his first but, again, he doesn’t strike me as the kind to have fuckbudies or one-night-stands. Ig he knows what he’s doing and he’s a good learner when it comes to what you like, but he’s not like a fuckboy or anything-

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Doggy, leap frog (yk basics from behind, he loves your ass remember?), if Tim’s tired then he’ll let you ride him. Now Masky likes it from behind too but more forceful, he’ll like- make the bed creak and won’t stop til he’s either done or you’re begging him to stop. He might not even stop if you blackout on him, who knows.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Tim’s rarely goofy at all so no. He’s got more of a romantic, focused attitude when it comes to intimacy with you. And Masky just doesn’t talk at all unless it’s to give you a command or degrade you. He fucks you like he hates you. He doesn’t though, he’s more… obsessed with you? Tim’s there cause he’s in love, Masky lets him bc he’s obsessed. Makes sense?

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) we all know our man is hairyyyy and if you don’t mind he doesn’t trim regularly, he can’t bother to do so with so much stuff in his mind. If you do mention it he’ll try to keep it trimmed for you. Don’t expect him to shave entirely (at least not often).

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Ok so. You had to work it out with Tim before he could be comfortable being intimate with you. He’s got trust issues so it took a while before he actually felt comfortable being intimate and vulnerable. Not a bunch of “I love you”s and cuddles the first few times, that happened after a while. Now Masky just… can’t be intimate for the life of him. Ask him to be a little more intimate and he’ll laugh at your face (chuckle, we know he doesn’t laugh a lot).

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Before you? Rarely, like twice or thrice a week maybe. After you? Yk, before dating you but when he was stalking getting to know you? A lot. When he’s with you he prefers to take it out on you, so rarely once more.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) well well well… this is a long one if I elaborate, so lemme just list them…

previously mentioned breeding kink, breathplay, dacryphilia, somnophilia, sadism, corruption, degradation. These are both Tim’s and Masky’s so uh have fun.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Tim prefers privacy, so your/his bed, the shower, etc. Masky doesn’t give a fuck, he’ll have you whenever he wants you. He finds the car the most common place to fuck you in, though. If you’re out doing something or he just came home frustrated and you go out to greet him, he’ll just drag you to the backseat and fuck the daylights out of you.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) For Tim it’s if you’re doing anything domestic. Doing dishes, cooking, cleaning, fixing/cleaning the car? He’s gonna reward you real well later. For Masky it’s whenever he’s pent up or frustrated, he’ll take it out on you by fucking you because he knows he can’t afford to hurt you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Tim hates the idea of actually hurting you. Yk knife play or slapping you. Most he’ll do is spank you and even then he’ll ask if he was too rough and apologize. In contrast, Masky has no restraint. He will do whatever he wants to you, whenever he wants, and you know better than to disobey…

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Oh, Tim gives you head like he’s starving. Not like… not messy and eager like Toby would (Toby alphabet also in production) but he’s relentless, gives you good head and won’t stop until you’re overstimulated. Masky hardly ever uses his mouth on you. Only to tease you to the point of tears and then fuck you into oblivion. And he lovessss to force his thick cock down your throat and gag on it- (sorry)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) I’m not original at all with this but idc. Tim’s slow and sensual, maybe he’ll go hard and slow as he gets closer to cumming. Masky just… he doesn’t think about that. If he wants to go agonizingly slow he will, and if he wants to rearrange your guts until your hole bleeds then he will.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Tim isn’t a fan. Masky usually fucks you so rough it feels like a quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) As long as you talk it through and already built that trust with Tim, he’s probably open to try things with you. Masky will not ask you if you want to try anything, if he wants to he will. If you propose things to him he’ll laugh at your face (again.)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Tim can last up to 2 rounds if the first one wasn’t physically demanding, Masky just needs to cum so as long as he does that he doesn’t really need another round. Unless he’s in a mood and wants to torture you. He’ll drag it out no matter how many times he cums.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) I feel like none of them do. If you do have toys none of them would be interested in trying them, but if you want to implement them, Tim would be totally fine with that, just talk it through. Masky would spiral and ask if he’s just not enough or something, so maybe don’t try with him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Tim doesn’t tease you further than verbally, doesn’t see the need. Masky’s whole deal is teasing you and making you cry for him, so he’s very unfair I’d say.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Loud enough for only you to hear. Grunts and deep, low moans. Masky does not make sound, actually. Somehow he manages to keep it together while making you cry and scream his name.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) If you catch him off-guard you have a chance to hear Tim whimper, but it’s a rare chance. Like, riding him and you kiss a hickey on a specially sensitive part of his neck, and you’ll probably get him to whimper.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) ok so as previously stated, hairy, all over. Strong arms and overall chubby yum yum 🤤 now about his size I’d say average, about 6.5-7 inches and thickkk you’ll feel that dick all the way inside you every timeeee

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Tim’s is not that high, I’d say average. He’s usually busy and tired, most he’ll do is lazy, cuddly sex if you two really need it. Masky’s a little higher but because that’s his coping mechanism for when he’s frustrated.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Tim falls asleep after making sure you don’t need anything else, he falls asleep easily cause he’s with you and you tired him out hehe. Masky doesn’t even stay in bed after he’s done with you. He’ll go out either for a smoke or to do anything else.

hope you stuck around and liked it as much as i liked writing it 🤤

[eddiemunsonistheloml]

Dean Winchester nsfw alphabet

Masterlist

Taglist

☆ Paring(s): Dean Winchester x reader

☆ Words: 1,452

☆ Warnings: Lots of mentions of sex (obviously) but no actual smut, 18+, established relationship, mentions of oral, sex toys, edging, cum, masturbation (dean), swearing, pls lmk if i need to add anything else

☆ Summary: nsfw alphabet. idk what else to say.

A - After Care (what they’re like after sex and how they take care of you)

Dean would be the BEST at aftercare. As soon as your done, he would just sit inside you for a few minutes while whispering praises to you, telling you how good you did before gently pulling out. He would always give you the option of having a shower now or later. If you chose to shower right after, he would carry you to the shower and clean your body for you. He also loved to wash your hair for you while giving you a head massage. If you chose to shower later, he would get a damp towel and wipe you both up before helping you get dressed in his shirt and then, he would hold you tightly as you cuddled under the covers together before you both doze off.

B - Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and yours)

His favourite of himself is probably his jawline or his muscles. Idk why it just makes sense to me. He would be so cocky about how strong he is, specially how easy it was for him to carry you around and man handle you.

Honestly as cheesy as it sounds, Dean loves your entire body so incredibly much that it’s hard for him to just pick one favourite body part. He thinks you’re the most beautiful person that he has ever seen in his entire life. But if he had to choose, it would probably be your tits and he wouldn’t even care how big or small they are. (He has stated multiple times that boob pillows are the best kind of pillows.)

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum)

If he doesn’t cum inside you he’ll probably cum on your tits/stomach or if you’re facing down, it’ll be on your back/ass. He has always loved to watch his cum leak out of you after he finishes inside you..

D - Dirty Secret (self explanatory)

It’s no lie that dean loves to take pictures of you but you don’t quite realize how many dirty pictures of you he has. He definitely keeps a dirty Polaroid picture of you- probably from when you guys were having sex, in his wallet so he can always see you.

E - Experience (How experienced are they in bed?)

We all know Dean is very experienced and it shows. He knows your body better than you do at this point. He knows every little thing about your body, what feels good, what doesn’t, how to make you scream, etc.

F - Favourite Position (self explanatory)

He’s a classic and loves missionary or pretty much any position where he gets to watch your pretty face as he turns you into a big mess. He also loves doggy style and fucking you in the impala (after putting his leather jacket down because baby deserves better than that).

G - Goofy (how serious are they during sex?)

Dean is usually pretty serious during sex but he also likes joking around with you. Sometimes when he’s not as serious, you would both be giggling and laughing together as he fucks into you.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they? What do they think about their partner having hair or not?)

I don’t think Dean would really bother with shaving. He would definitely keep himself pretty trimmed for the most part though.

He would not give a single flying fuck if you shaved or not. You could wax or never shave or anything and it wouldn’t make a difference. All that matters to him is if you’re comfortable or not.

For example:

“Can I take these pretty little panties off, sweetheart?” “I haven’t shaved..” “I don’t give a fuck and that’s not what I asked.”

I - Intimacy (how romantic they during sex)

He’s usually pretty intimate but it takes a while for him to be. He’s used to casual hook ups and one night stands so he never really opened up to anyone that way before.

J - Jack-off (do they masturbate? How often)

This man is such a slut and he masturbates a lot. Sometimes he wishes you would walk in on him and help him out. Whenever you’re apart for whatever reason like if he’s on a hunt without you, 9 times out of 10 he’s jerking off because he misses you.

K - Kinks (some of their kinks)

He 100% has a size kink. He loves how much his cock would stretch you open, more than anything else in the world. Dean also probably has a small daddy or sir kink but it’s not too intense.

Love love LOVES when you tell him he’s doing good. He loves knowing he’s making you feel good and loves your accidental praises while you fall apart. (He loves praising you as well).

L - Location (where they prefer to have sex)

Dean will honestly fuck you anywhere he can. The most common spots you have sex are in bed or in baby (like I said before).

M - Motivation (what turns them on?)

Pretends to hate it but he secretly loves when you’re being bratty, loves putting you back in your place.

N - No (what won’t they do? Turn offs)

Dean is pretty open to anything but he would never want to hurt you too bad, he’s down for a little spanking or even sometimes choking but he will never get too rough in that way. If you don’t want to do something then he doesn’t either.

O - Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving?)

He loves making you feel good but he also goes down on you for himself too. He’s so obsessed with the way you taste, and the noises you make when he eats you out. He also loves when you give him blow jobs but defiantly prefers giving.

P - Pace (how fast&rough or slow&soft they are)

Dean can be very rough but also very soft. He usual likes to fuck you rough and hard into the mattress but he also really likes gentle, soft sex. Especially when it’s early in the morning, you’re both still half asleep but also needy he can be really soft and sweet.

No matter if he’s being rough or soft he makes sure you’re okay constantly.

Q - Quickies (what is their opinion on quickies? Do they do them often?)

Dean is always so horny so quickies are a regular thing for you guys. He obviously loves taking his time with you but when you don’t have much time we is always down for a quickie.

R - Risk (how much do they experiment? Do they take risks?)

He is such a kinky person and would be down to try almost anything with you at least once.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they last?)

He will usually go for 1-2 rounds but he can last up to 4.

T - Toys (do they own toys? How do they use them?)

Dean would hardly ever user toys on you unless you specifically asked him to. He’s selfish and wants to be the only one who can make you feel good.

U - Unfair (how much do they tease?)

I swear to fucking god this man is the biggest tease EVER. He would tease you forever if he could because he loves making you whine and beg for him.

V - Volume (how loud they during sex)

Dean never shuts the fuck up during sex so in that way he’s very loud. As far as moaning goes, he is usually not very loud but he will groan quietly.

W - Wild Card (random headcanon)

Dean loves to edge you, he could go for hours and never get bored. You could be crying and begging for him to let you cum but that cocky little bastard will keep going for a while before be finally lets you cum.

X - X-ray (what are they packing under their clothes?)

He’s a solid 8 inches and is also thick as fuck which he constantly brags to you about.

Y - Yearning (how high their sex drive is)

Hornist man you will ever meet. He is always down for sex.

Z - Zzz (how fast they fall asleep after)

It would usually take Dean a while to fall asleep after sex, unless you really tired each other out. He always makes sure you fall asleep first (even when you don’t have sex), so he can make sure you’re okay and safe. He likes to watch you sleep for a while before actually sleeping himself because he claims that you always look so peaceful.

reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3