#like just say your wish was actually to know that your favorite brother loves you too you repressed manic

[osmanthuscest]

"this entire post is part of the problem" Me vale verga. No me podría importar menos. No estoy hablando de parafilias tipo objectum, me vale verga. You KNOW what paraphiles I am talking about. "Oh but pro para also include-" Me chupa un pico, estoy hablando de los pedófilos, incestuosos y los zoo. Esas vainas asquerosas.

Sorry to break it to you OP but I do also believe proship community can groom children. Call me an anti or keep telling me that I use the same rethoric, I don't care. You are not getting what I'm saying at all.

These kind of communities are a mistake, in general. You guys lack of critical thinking, thought crime it is not a crime, I am AWARE INSTRUSIVE THOUGHTS ARE A THING. Thanks to trauma I used to have intrusive thoughts about my brother and thank God I am glad I am slightly older so when I experienced these horrible thoughts the para community wasn't as big it is now. You don't get it, do you? The problem is not having a community to vent, to seek help. The problem is making it this quirky fandom-like thing.

The problem is believing these thoughts are OK. The problem is not being aware at how it can genuinely harm you if you don't seek an actual solution. And yes, I'm also pointing out proshipping. I am critical of underage users being in the current community it is also not the best. Sometimes people just need actual help, I have seen amount of teenagers proshippers who wish they are groomed and that kind of stuff, who wish they were in relationships with older men or women. Instead of seeking help, imagine them crossing into pro-para community, seeing that there's even terms for what they're suffering, that it is okay if you wish you dated an adult or want to fuck your sibling 😝😝

It's awesome you are anti contact, op, it is the bare minimum. That's not the problem. The problem is not having a deep thinking of "Why am I thinking like this? Why do I have these thoughts? Is there something I can do?" To not know where the root of the problem is. You are doing nothing by doing pride flags of incestuous trans pedophiles, you are not seeing how the help the real problem.

The community is an encouragement to comform yourself and not get any help, to believe there's nothing wrong with it. My problem is that the community is full of underage users who lacks of critical thinking because well, they are children, they don't know any better. And before you say any anti rethoric, I do believe a proship community it is also dangerous for minors. Not all, but the danger it is there ready to happen, it was my case as a children but I grew up and realized it wasn't my fault nor the people who wrote about it, it was the fault of no supervision.

Pro para community it is not safe for children. It doesn't matter if you say Ezra is bad if you have the same thinking without critizing at all the pro para community. With no questioning we believe everything is okay and there's nothing wrong we need to dive deep into.

Pro para and proship is not the same. While in another one you talk about your favorite age gap ship in the other one you talk about how you want to kiss your dog.

And is not even "Lately I've been having these thoughts about [...] but it's okay. My thoughts not makes me who I am, this also applies to you. I hope you get help, you're not alone." I am aware there are posts like this, which I do encourage and believe is what they'd need.

Not some bullshit like "Imagining kissing my dog.. I love being a zoo ❤️" #propara #proudzoo #ThisIsTotallyOK

If you don't get it then there's nothing more I can say. You guys lack of critical thinking, if you accept anything without questioning, then you are a lost cause and should not be in these kind of communities.

I hate these posts.

either you are AGAINST the idea of thought-crimes, or you're not. just bc someone's a paraphile does NOT make them any kind of offender. being proship, you almost HAVE to be pro-(anti contact) para, because part of being proship is recognizing that your imagination also can't hurt anyone.

ignoring all that, though, the other glaring issue is that these are the exact arguments antis make towards us. calling people predators with no proof, saying paras should "keep it private", that paras are trying to "groom" people into believing their paraphilias are good. replace "paras" with "proshippers" and you've got the same dumb arguments WE'VE BEEN HAVING FOR YEARS.

EVEN FURTHER THAN THAT, what happened to using the block button? why do y'all forget all about that as soon as it's a paraphile, or at minimum, someone you DEEM to be a paraphile. y'all are no better than the people you are against.

[acid-ixx]

Wouldn’t it be funny if Reader shows just a tiny amount of happiness to any one of the batfam, and the next thing you know they try their best to make Reader to do it again.

Example:

Dick:Makes a silly joke

Reader: Actually smiles and laughs at it

Dick: gloats about it to the fam

The BatFam: practically on all fours chasing after Reader to try and make them laugh

Don’t stress out with your writings (btw love your ‘again & again’ series❤️)

Take your time and don’t forget to drink water🫶🫶🫶

laughter is the best medicine

ft. yan! dick grayson, jason todd, and damian wayne

— masterlist !

more beneath the cut ! fluff ? with a mix of yandereness is my thing hehe. i love this ask sm <3 you guys are being fed well today !!!

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

ugh they're the definition of giving someone an inch and they'll be taking a mile. it would especially be annoying if it were dick on the receiving end of the line. but even if he'd be the one you'd take most precaution to, don't underestimate just how much your opinion holds the most value in the family. so they'll most definitely gloat about their achievement of making you smile or hell, even leaning against their shoulder willingly calls for a celebration.

trust me when i say that living in a stuffy manor already sucks, and they don't exactly like seeing you sulk and merely rot in your bed all day. so like any loving family would do, they'll try their damn best to at least see a quirk of your mouth or that faint glimmer in your that dick oh-so enchantingly talk about.

so it comes to them in the form of a surprise that one day, when your oldest brother accidentally trips over one of your expensive novelty ballpen, instead of nearly shouting at him for breaking one of your favorites, it was the "oomph!" sound his throat makes and his wide eyes when his ass directly landed on the floor that makes you crack into small giggles.

if it weren't for his enhanced hearing, dick would've crossed out your laughter as a hallucination, a product of imagination, something entirely impossible to produce, but no.

he had proven himself wrong.

once he turns back at you, he sees the crinkle of your eyes and your palm trying to cover your shit eating grin. the plump of your cheeks are so accentuated that he forgets the initial embarrassment he feels in the first place, replaced with awe at just how artfully captivating his sibling looks; sitting by

it's like a painting, he wishes it was. he wishes tim would be quick enough to capture the succession of your smiles in the live camera feed.

all because he couldn't believe it. couldn't believe that his baby bird is laughing. they're laughing and they look so mirthful and full of life when doing so.

yes, you're laughing at him, at his stupidity for being unable to detect a mere ballpen despite being trained to locate every known obstacle in a field.

but fuck, he was already raised at a circus to fulfill the role of an acrobat who entertains the crowd. what more could it be if that means he could play the role of a clown for you, his baby bird worth more than a thousand lives, whose laughter is equivalent to the immense euphoria that is filling his entire being?

give him an inch and he'll take an entire mile.

the next day, you'd be greeted with... a lot of peculiar instances within your family. all of which you would laugh at because it's not typical that your family displays mistakes, and you feel a bit better about yourself when their imperfections seem to seep out of their being— or maybe it's just your thoughts eating you up again, because is it just you or did jason, tim, and even damian, manage to at least trigger a reaction out of you?

tim would accidentally end up drinking orange juice right after brushing his teeth. his cringing expression, choked gargling and immense spitting is enough to guarantee a light chuckle from your seated form as you ate your cereal in peace, watching him as he tries to rid of the bitter taste on his tongue. although, bitter as it may, the sweetness and the aching of his tooth overpowers the regret he fills for gulping an entire bottle of orange juice down his throat.

he's so glad that he had set up multiple cameras and recorders at different angles prior to your time spent with him because he just couldn't stop watching your reaction in loop whilst he tried to continue his investigations within gotham's latest crime news. yet no matter how hard he attempts to control himself, his eyes couldn't stop looming over to your form, finding your reaction too incredibly cute to be ignored. yeah, he'll do his duties later. for now, he just needs to... screenshot every single frame of your expressions.

jason isn't much of a joker but when reading you one of your favorite stories, he had managed to mispronounce one of the words so badly that it ruined the narrative of the classical book he was voice acting for you. it was a stupid thing to laugh at, but for a guy like jason, who was an english nerd in his very prime, it would be hilarious— especially when his gothamite accent seeps into his vocabulary; which is very unbefitting for the voice of a character who was a princess that loves to wear frilly, pink dresses.

imagine a man, with a growl that vibrates through his skull, and muscles that bulge through his shirt, voices a princess of all people! his high pitched register for the character was already grating to your ears, but the sudden shift from an airy and girlish to deep and gruff with an added effect of a voice crack at the word "cake" was enough to let you burst out into laughs, your giggles echoing through the comfortable silence of the manor's library. for the first time in a while, you let jason wrap his arms around your shoulder, asking for your input about his tremendous acting skills.

jason never had many moments to cherish within the manor, preferring to stay over and outside of bruce's radar, but god does he love going through the batcave's live feed just to zoom in on your expressions, the grin on your face heavily reminds him of himself, back when he was the oblivious robin with no idea of what was coming to him. yet only now, he swears to protect your smile from never faltering.

damian takes his artistry skills seriously, constantly making a show of bragging to you whenever he has the opportunity to. but this time, he was incredibly pissed at drake for accidentally squeezing all the paint from the tube of oil paints he had stored by the drawers, and it was a shade closest to your skin tone, too; he meant to use that tube of paint for his next portrait of you. so like the petty child he is, damian sets on an hour long routine of drawing tim with monstrous features that screams the opposite of what he sports.

that means he had drawn multiple variants of tim with a hideous, actual bowl cut one. no seriously, his hair was a bowl and the strands that peeked out of it were spaghetti strands. in another drawing, his red robin outfit consists of plucked feathers and an elongated beak for its mask, what seems to be the pocket for the eyes now replaced with cat-like slits that makes the vigilantes expression looker idiotic and downright stupid. yet it felt therapeutic for damian to draw that his brother with what he felt was enough revenge to exact upon drake. that scum deserved a horrendously made portrait of him.

what he didn't expect was that you had stumbled upon his atelier, wanting to cure your boredom by painting a scenery when all of a sudden you had to drop all your equipment from your hands because... what the fuck was damian painting...? why is tim crawling across the floor in one of the portraits...? it takes a second or two for you to register the drawing's very detailed portrayal of a literal bowl cut, your laughter bursting out of the seams because no fucking way did damian actually draw something so hilarious and unserious. if you were anybody else, damian would've kicked your shins so violently you would've required a visit to the hospital. but because it's you... he chooses to sulk in the corner with puffed cheeks and burning ears as you approach the painting with said curiosity of a child and a laughter you can't stifle so easily.

at least it got you to stay in the same room as him for about an hour, with you giving your youngest brother more ideas to make the drawings even more unsettling than they already were, to which damian takes your tips to heart.

after you had eagerly (and shyly) showed the entire family you and damian's shared creation of a monstrosity, tim swears he'll never squeeze a tube of damian's paint anymore.

[venusbyline]

Butterfly ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 12, oct.

— pairing: Helaena Targaryen x brothel worker!reader x Aegon II Targaryen

— type: smut, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: scissoring + voyeurism

— summary: You are Aegon's favorite prostitute and finally meet his wife during one of your special visits to the Red Keep.

— word count: 4.4k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 12th day, Targcest (older brother/younger sister), female!reader, Helaegon, throuple, scissoring/tribadism, voyeurism, praise kink, nipple licking, referenced cheating, overstimulation, crying, sexual tension, breast worship, body worship, curse words, Madam Sylvi mentioned, Aemond Targaryen mentioned, minor Helaemond, past underage sex, bathing/washing, animal metaphors, bisexual!Helaena, sex worker!reader, voyeur!Aegon, switch!Helaena, sub!reader, dom!Aegon, canon divergence (no Dance of the Dragons/War for Succession), porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole

— crossposting: AO3

It was not uncommon for King Aegon II to bring prostitutes to his castle. As much as he loved the loud and disgusting chaos of the brothels, sometimes he needed to maintain what little dignity he had left and regard discretion.

You were Aegon's favorite prostitute for everything, including those more... Calm situations. He had met you a few days after his coronation, that day he went to the brothel and asked Madam Sylvi to recommend a younger girl who was not as experienced. He needed the feeling of being with someone cleaner, more innocent, something he was far from being.

Aegon could not say if this demand was because he just wanted to feel less dirty, or if it was because he also wanted to corrupt someone. Both, perhaps.

You were still starting out in that new life and Sylvi saw you as the perfect choice for Aegon. Even though you were not a maiden anymore due to the two weeks working there, your lack of experience before all of this was enough for you to be scared by Aegon's aggressiveness, but it was also enough for him to see you almost like a pretty flower to be protected and cared for.

When Aegon left after cumming, you noticed a few extra coins, as well as seeing him having a serious conversation with Madam Sylvi. You did not know what they had actually talked about, but you noticed the number of men looking for you had dwindled. Which would be completely bad if you did not start being spoiled by Aegon every time he came back there. He would give you more money, sometimes he would bring you some tasty candy made by the best cooks from King's Landing, and sometimes he would even give you random pieces of jewelry. You had to constantly deal with the looks of envy and disapproval from the other prostitutes, despite for Sylvi to keep the situation under control, always arguing about not being able to go against the King's wishes.

Aegon still slept with other women. However, they did not receive tips, much less gifts. Sometimes you even believed he fucked them just so the rumors that he had a favorite whore would not spread.

Then, whenever Aegon slept with another girl, you noticed that he became less aggressive during sex, almost more submissive to you, as if he wanted to compensate. He was extrovert and funny with the people around him, saving his more quiet and almost melancholy side for you and only you. He did not use to talk to you much other than dirty obscenities, enjoying the silence that followed after the sex was over.

Whenever he handed you an expensive gift or a tip that was much larger than expected, you could not help but widen your eyes and he would just shrug and make a mockery about how you needed it. Behind the sarcastic facade, you saw his eyes shining, as if he was enjoying seeing your cheeks flush in gratitude.

It was not long before Aegon began to trust you to visit the Red Keep and pleasure him when he could not go to the brothel. You went through a series of checks before entering and after leaving there. Upon arrival, the Royal Guards always checked that you were not carrying anything that could put the life of the King or any other member of his Royal Family at risk. When it was time to leave, the guards checked to make sure you had not stolen anything. Aegon hated it when he had to argue with the guards and reassure them that the large amounts of gold or some jewelry or dresses had actually been given to you by him, not stolen. He did not mind when they did that to the other girls from the brothels, but he hated it when his men suspected you of being a gold-digging thief or a murderer and put you through all that humiliating stress.

And he hated it even more when he realized that the guards took advantage of those moments to caress the curves of your body or make dirty jokes.

Normally, you spent a maximum of two days in the Red Keep. Arriving at dawn and leaving two moons later. However, Aegon had paid a huge sum to Madam Sylvi to allow you to stay in his castle for two weeks. You did not know exactly what all this was for, but you did not dare argue when the guards escorted you to the private chambers.

"Finally!" Aegon snorted when Martyn and Leon opened the door. "You can leave us alone now." He warned, as the two men nodded and closed the door. "Any scratches? Did they grabbed your arm like the last time?"

You shook your head, looking around the chambers he brought you and noticing that it was a little bigger than the last one. Or at least the bed seemed much bigger.

"Did they make any joke?" He asked, looking you up and down, staring at the robes you wore with disgust. Gods, he so wanted to put you in a beautiful green velvet dress...

"Just the same things as always, My King." You shrugged.

"Aegon." He corrected you little impatiently and almost... Shy. "I have already ordered that you must call me by my first name when we are together and alone." You smiled slightly at his words and nodded. "Fuck, these rags are ridiculous."

You looked at your own clothes, feeling a little embarrassed as you pictured the difference between that cloth and the expensive and perfect dresses that Royal Ladies were supposed to wear. You did not really know what to say, even though you already knew Aegon well enough to realize that was his way of saying that you deserved to wear something prettier.

"You are being very rude, Aegon." Your eyes widened as you heard a sweet calm voice sounding from the door inside the chambers that led straight to the room where there was a bathtub and anything needed for a decent clean.

As much as you knew that Queen Helaena was indifferent about her brother-husband's extramarital affairs, it was still a surprise for you to see her so calmly entering his private quarters, the transparent nightgown leaving her voluminous hips and full breasts on display. You wondered to yourself if she was used to dressing like this frequently in front of Aegon after so many years of marriage, as even he seemed a little confused and focused on her appearance.

"My Queen..." You bowed awkwardly, unsure of what else you should do or say. Helaena was not jealous and did not even feel bad about the King's infidelities, however, you could not help but fear that she would get angry for some reason and send you to the gallows.

Even though she was so dear and sweet to the commoners, she was still a Queen who could turn on you and end your life quickly if she so desired.

"Just Helaena, darling. Or Hel. Aemond used to call me that, although he has not done that for a few years now." She rambled on about the nickname her other brother used to call her, and although you chuckled at the situation, Aegon pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to hide the arousal inside his pants at seeing his wife wearing such a revealing nightgown. Despite six years of marriage, he could count on one hand the number of times he fucked Helaena without it being pure duty or sacrifice.

"Helaena, I told you I would have a special guest here at the Red Keep for two weeks." He practically growled, looking at her indignantly.

"I know. That's why I am here." The Queen smiled and approached you, looking around you and touching the strands of your hair, as if she were studying every inch of you. You feared that she would do it with a malicious or mocking way, but Helaena actually seemed very enchanted looking at you. Aegon remembered her younger version, watching her favorite stupid caterpillars with the same fascination she showed now. "I really wanted to meet you. Aegon always tells me that you are the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms."

You parted your lips with complete shock at her statement. You did not know what shocked you more, the fact that Helaena was not angry about those words or the fact that Aegon would actually say something like that. About you. A whore.

"What the hells? I never said that!" The King tried to defend himself, his rosy cheeks highlighted before his bright violet eyes.

"Oh, you did. Every time you need my help to picking out a dress or some jewelry to give her." Helaena teased and you laughed lightly, catching Aegon's attention. He was stressed about how his wife was exposing his secret side and at the same time he was intrigued by her sudden interest in you and the way you seemed so soft interacting with her.

"I may have said that once or twice... When I was drunk." Aegon gave in a little bit, still omitting the part that he was perfectly sober in all the thousands of times he said anything romantic about you. He did not even need to look at you to make sure you were smiling at him.

Helaena's hands ran through your hair again, playing with the strands and laughing innocently when she noticed your neck getting goosebumps with her touch, something that left Aegon's heart strangely racing. He was not the best person to make Helaena smile. In fact, he was not the best person to make anyone smile.

But here you two were, giggling like you had been confidants for years. As if Helaena was not his wife and as if you were not his favorite affair. As if there were just the two of you inside the chambers, without him or any man to disturb the female connection between you. He felt almost jealous. Almost.

"Helaena, can you help her take a bath, please? We have to have lunch soon." Aegon asked his sister-wife, patting her shoulder gently. It must not have been a very common act coming from him, because Helaena flinched for a few seconds, before frowning and nodding. Then, he turned to you. "I will be waiting for both of you at the dinner table. Do not be late."

Despite the King's severe tone, you blushed at the realization that he was allowing you to join them for lunch. In the hall. Not like he always did when you served him there, just bringing the banquets to the chambers so you could enjoy some nice food before and after sex.

As soon as Aegon left, Helaena turned to you with an excited smile on her face. "He likes you."

You frowned, shaking your head and trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. "But not the way you think, Your Grace." The words came out embarrassed and a little strained, but Helaena stood her ground, even without arguing with you. She took your hand, not looking disgusted or anything like that, and led you to the door where you had seen her appear. The room was quite large and had a favorably large bathtub, already with some warm water inside, buckets and soap around.

You glanced at her, wondering what you should do next. Just get naked and get in the water? Wait for her orders? When you opened your mouth to say something, a sigh escaped while Helaena moved behind you, her soft hands undoing the weak worn lace of your dress. As it fell to the floor, she looked confused at your lack of underwear or a corset, only realizing the reason behind that when you cringed, both from the sudden cold and from embarrassment.

Not wanting to fill you with awkward questions with obvious answers, Helaena helped you into the bathtub, her gaze lingering on your submerged breasts and the shaved hair on your groin. "Do you always... take it off?"

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as you thought about your shaved cunt. You looked at yourself underwater for a few seconds before answering. "Yeah, I do. Madam Sylvi sometimes requires us to remove all the hair from here, because many men like this."

Helaena nodded, for the first time in her life hating the silence that followed an answer. By the way your back was tense when you leaned against the bathtub, she knew she had asked an impolite question. She had not meant to ask about brothel customs, she was just genuinely curious, since she had never considered plucking the blond hair she had on her private parts. They were so pretty and soft, and during the few times Aegon slept with her when he was drunk, he always made some comments about liking them too.

"You should let them grow. Aegon does not mind, he likes them, actually. Seeing them shine when I manage to get wet." Her statement made you look at her in disbelief as you sighed and began to scrub your arms with the sponge that was there next to you. Being a prostitute and being jealous of your affair was not uncommon. But being jealous of both your affair and his wife was absurd. "Did I hurt your feelings?"

You swallowed hard, scrubbing the sponge rougher on your own skin. This was pathetic. Aegon liked Helaena's pubic hair and you were jealous of that, even though you knew they almost never had sex and you were just his whore.

And deep down, you also felt a pang in your chest as you pictured what her cunt must look like and how much Aegon must like it, despite everything. You did not even know her well and you had been fucking her husband for a long time. Gods, you really were irrational sometimes.

"No. You did not hurt my feelings, Hel." You considered calling her My Queen, thanking yourself for changing your mind when you saw her beautiful smile. Helaena watched you bathe, your own hands scrubbing every inch of your body as you tried not to be intimidated by the Queen there by your side. "Do you always do that?" The inevitable question finally took over the messy thoughts inside your brain and you allowed yourself to ask. "Being so lovely with the King's whores?"

It was a dangerous question, a dangerous ground. Being arrogant towards Helaena was not fair. She was being kind and thoughtful, and she also seemed to be enchanted by you. And that was exactly why you were so fucking upset. Would she take a dagger and stab you in the throat if you did not pay attention to her every move?

As rude as you sounded, Helaena did not seem bothered, she stroked your hair again, smiling slightly, her big violet eyes shining with the moisture now hiding from your strands. "No, I do not. I never cared to meet them. But now you are my favorite. And Aegon's favorite too."

Her revelation made your brow furrow, your legs tightening as she touched your neck with her fingertips, studying you as if you were one of her favorite insects. You reminded her of one of the green butterflies she had collected during her childhood but Aegon stepped on when he was drunk, leaving their chambers after consummating their marriage from the first time. It was her favorite butterfly and she had never found one so beautiful as that one. Until she met you.

"Renewal and freedom." She murmured, touching that same sensitive spot on your neck that made you shiver for the second time.

"What does that mean?" You muttered a little alarmed, which made Helaena blink several times before frowning.

"Nothing. I do not know if it's important now."

You let the silence appear in the room again, breaking it only when you noticed how Helaena was staring at the sponge you were rubbing on your stomach. The violet eyes were full of expectation, as if she was yearning for something. Wanting to test your theory, you lowered the sponge to your smooth core, seeing how Helaena became panting and turned her head to stop staring at you. The way she stood up with flushed cheeks made it clear what she was picturing.

"I should get out of the tub now." You said with a soft voice, a hint of a smile on the corner of your lips. Helaena nodded quickly, passing you a towel and doing her best not to admire your body. It was torturous, to say the least.

As soon as you toweled off and wrapped yourself in the towel, the Queen guided you back to the chambers, and you were both a little surprised by the presence of Aegon lying on the bed, arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face. "You women were taking your time. I waited like an idiot at the table." The King practically growled and you flinched, making him take a deep breath to control himself, knowing it was unfair to take it out on either of you now. Helaena was enjoying your presence and you never had many opportunities to take such a long complete bath.

Still wrapped in the towel, you faced Helaena and Aegon, noticing the couple exchanging some intense looks, as if they were communicating like that, almost reading each other's minds. Aegon sighed with frustration before muttering. "Helaena is horny for you." He revealed it without hesitation and you almost choked, a look of pure shock appearing on your face when you turned a little to see the Queen's reaction, who shifted uncomfortably, but without denying what her husband had said. Quite the opposite, you noticed how her nipples became more pert under her nightgown. "I suppose brothels do not get female customers very often."

Aegon's mockery did not go unnoticed, and you stopped yourself from rolling your eyes. "Very rarely do we have the opportunity to serve pleasure to women."

Helaena became even more turned on after your information, while Aegon clenched his jaw and clenched his hands into fists when he thought about what you needed to do to survive, after all, that was how he met you. But that did not make things any easier for him to accept. You should only be his. At least if he was not the damn Lord of the Seven Kingdoms...

"So you have slept with at least one, right?" Helaena asked with quite a surprising amount of excitement and you mumbled in response. "Yeah, but two or three times at most."

"It's enough to know something, I guess." Aegon grumbled, his arms remaining crossed. The King pondered his options for a few minutes before snorting when he saw clear excitement on Helaena's features. "How much more gold do I need to pay you for you to... Serve my wife?"

You broke eye contact with Helaena to look at Aegon, stuttering like a stupid woman until you managed to utter concrete words. "That will not be necessary. You have already paid me enough to be here for the next two weeks." Then you turned your gaze to the Queen. "Have you... been with women before?"

Helaena's pale cheeks flushed and she nodded, making Aegon scoff at her reaction. "Do not play coy now, wife." He practically growled. "Helaena is not as chaste as she makes herself out to be. Although she rarely beds me, she finds enough distraction with a few ladies-in-waiting... sometimes Aemond."

You let out a surprised sigh, the exchange of barbs between the King and the Queen Consort not something you expected to experience in person one day. But here you were, practically torn between the two of them, both hungry for you in different ways. Aegon moved to the corner of the bed, making room for the two women to sit next to him.

There was another moment of silence. "You will not... Stay closer?" You asked Aegon, your body still damp from the bath and wrapped in the towel, being quite a sight for any being who was attracted to women. However, Aegon shook his head, a light smirk on his lips. "Oh, that will not be necessary for now, darling. I will let my dear sister-wife enjoy you. Today I will just watch."

Your attention turned to Helaena when she touched your cheeks, enchanted by the sight of her eyes shining at you. Aegon gasped when Helaena did not hesitate for another minute. She put her hand on the back of your neck and pulled you closer, placing her lips on yours, the softness of her mouth making the kiss much better, her tongue exploring yours delicately, something different from Aegon's typical anxious despair. Helaena was kissing you like she wanted to never let you go again, while Aegon always kissed you like he was too scared to let go. There was a difference between being intense and being needy. And you loved both types.

Without breaking the kiss, Helaena carefully pulled the towel from your body, throwing the fabric on the floor and moving her hands to your breasts, the drops of water still wet on your skin. She moved her lips down to your collarbone, licking the wetness and squeezing the flesh of her breasts, careful not to press your nipples too hard. You gasped her name, tilting your head back, sighing in surprise when Aegon placed your head on top of his thigh, stroking your hair as if you were a cute kitten.

"Does not she have a perfect body, dear wife?" Aegon teased Helaena, staring at the woman licking your breasts and nodding, the hint of a mischievous smile when she nibbled on your nipple, sucking the bud gently with mock apology. You tried to lift your head from Aegon's lap so you could sit up and undress Helaena, but Aegon held your head down and Helaena let out a giggle. "Do not worry, darling. I can do it myself." She assured, taking off her nightgown. Yours and Aegon's attention turned to Helaena's perfect body, her milky white skin, her full heavy breasts, her soft belly, her thick thighs that perfectly matched her wide hips. She was a divine sight for both of you, and Aegon had to restrain himself from letting his lust get the better of him. He wanted to touch Helaena. He wanted to touch you. Aegon wanted the two girls for himself, but he also knew that Helaena deserved a little fun. Even if he did not admit it so desperately, he wanted you. He needed you. And Helaena was the only pure soul who would never try to steal you from him. Just share, perhaps. He could handle this, if it was only Helaena. He trusted her.

"You should enjoy it while her cunt is still wet from the bathwater." Aegon suggested and he saw Helaena's eyes darken with desire. She nodded quickly, parting her legs carefully. You and Aegon only had a few minutes to admire the sight of her swollen blond-haired cunt before Helaena fitted it into yours, causing you to moan and echo through the chambers. "Shhh..." Aegon whispered with amusement, loving watching you melt so easily at the mere sensation of Helaena's cunt against yours. "Just relax, darling. These two weeks here in the Red Keep will be my gift in honor of your birthday."

Your eyes widened at the mention of your special day. During the weekly rush at the brothel, you had forgotten that you were about to celebrate another year of life. But it was obvious that Aegon would never forget and had probably threatened and paid Madam Sylvi a long time ago until she told him any little detail about you. He needed to know everything.

You did not even have the breath to thank the King, all your mind could now focus on was the feeling of Helaena's luscious cunt rubbing against yours, the slick sounds filling the chambers. She also let out some moans, which were lower than yours, but which contrasted with the intensity with which she held your waist with one hand and kissed yout calf.

"Such delightful sounds... I bet your cunts are completely creamy right now." Aegon groaned to himself watching the scene, caressing your hair as Helaena's breasts bounced when she increased her speed, as if wanting to prove how wet you two were. He laughed, understanding very well. "Seven Hells, Helaena..." Aegon growled, mentally thanking the Gods after you raised your hand to squeeze one of the Queen's breasts, the soft mound compressing and spreading in your fingers, earning more breathless moans from her.

"I am going to cum..." You warned with a desperate whimper, looking back and asking permission from Aegon, who soon nodded. You moaned Helaena's name loudly, reaching your release and feeling your vision became blurry and your legs tremble. Helaena took advantage of your cum to rub herself faster, her clit almost hurting yours, now so sore and overstimulated that Aegon chuckled as he wiped the tears that ran from your eyes. When Helaena came too, she gasped and lay on top of you, your hands squeezing her ass without so much pressure, just enough to try to calm the spasms of your body.

Aegon smirked at the sight of Helaena's large breasts pressed against yours, both practically crushed by each other. The Queen gave you many kisses on your face, telling you praises, thanks and apologies that you could not respond verbally, but smiled and closed your eyes, your hands still caressing her ass. You felt Aegon kiss your forehead and then you heard sighs and wet noises, noticing an intense exchange of kisses between the married siblings.

"I love green butterflies." Helaena's breathless declaration made Aegon chuckle softly, using his other hand to stroke her silver hair.

"I know that..."

You snuggled with your head still on Aegon's thigh and brought your hand up to caress Helaena's sweaty bare back. "Can we have this one if you promise not to kill her too?" She asked in High Valyrian, knowing you would not understand anything.

Aegon frowned, both because of his little knowledge of the ancient language and because of the memories that his sister-wife's words brought to him, the strong implications behind them. He never wanted to kill that stupid green butterfly years ago. It ran away from the vase without Helaena noticing, it was in his way and he just... Passed over it.

"I will try my best." That is all Aegon said in the normal language. You were now Helaena's favorite butterfly from her collection, the only one Aegon liked. And he would not make promises without knowing what the future held for each of the three of you.

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[jiminrings]

fail-safe

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 8k

glimpse: growing up, your brother's best friend always berated you for not having a passion in life outside of loving him from afar. when yoongi leaves everything he's ever known for everything he's ever wanted, trying to move on from him becomes your biggest aspiration.

alternatively, yoongi left when you needed him the most, and comes back home at a time when you love him the least.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ a Lot of angst, eventual fluff, brother's best friend AND single dad au, So Much Yearning, unrequited love (initial), jealousy, self-deprecation, a lot of talk abt passion in an empty n hurtful way that most impassioned youngest children feel (it's a specific feeling idk!!!), eventual redemption in the next parts ]

notes: finally got to writing a new series!!! i'm beyond excited for this + this whole new concept and flow i haven't touched on before <3 i hope u love fail-safe as much as i do :-)

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist

Yoongi buys atleast one scratch ticket a week.

The accessibility of buying one is top-notch considering that all he has to do is cross the street, shoot one look to the cashier, and he can either already go hunch in the corner of the road or in the comfort of his room. The moment his coin takes its first dig and he realizes that he’s won yet again, he’s satisfied enough not to buy another ticket.

He doesn’t want to risk losing the win he’s just gained, the odds of him throwing out money besting his chances in adding to his earnings. He thinks everyone’s a little greedy one way or another, but it’s the righteous part of him that thinks he’s different.

You do think that he is for all the right reasons, your vision only tunneling for him alone. He’s this fixed older figure in your life and you can’t figure out how to shrug him off — he’s this generous leech that sucks all of the rationality from your mind but returns it to you twofold, whether in the form of him saying something unintentionally endearing that it makes your chest hurt, or through him having to lightly smack the back of your head.

Yoongi’s your older brother’s best friend and there’s a novelty tag that comes with him, one that can’t be topped by any material possession to your name. He’s there for you, not in the exact way you want him to be, but nonetheless there. He’s special and unattainable at the same time, the finiteness of his love barely extending to you.

He’s there when you want him to burn the latest songs onto a CD you’ve spent all your allowance in, and he’s there when you get annoyed that he sneaked some of his own recommendations in there. You’re there when you later admit that his suggestions aren’t half-bad, and you also happen to be there when he grins at the praise.

He’s there when Namjoon won’t cough up the last slice of his cutlet, not because he’ll actually give you his, but because he’ll help your brother guard his plate. You’d only have to mope for a solid of three seconds before the two of them give up both of their last slices, and you’re there when Yoongi insists for you to try the sauce in the spirit of going out of your routine.

You don’t need Yoongi every single time but in the event that you do, he hangs back. He contemplates and hesitates and doesn’t give in to every single whim that you have, but he’ll be there. He lingers like the last holiday ornament you don’t want to remove until it’s February, his presence being oddly similar to your favorite festivities.

Yoongi’s the equivalent of a holiday you look forward to with each passing month and day; he comes around to and for you in instances, but never even in your most sincere wishes.

“I buy one scratch ticket a week — three if I’m really feeling lucky. When my palms itch, that’s when I know that I really need to buy them.”

He’s calm and collected even when you’re scrunching your nose up at him in combined worry and disbelief, humming mindlessly as you collect your thoughts. He randomly told you about his lottery routine and you’re still trying to wrap your head around how he blows his money off just easily. Yoongi has the mind to put scrap cardboard under you because sitting on the hot concrete with your uniform on can’t possible be a good idea, but you try to play off your fluster into stubbornness.

He’s just playing with his two ever-present coins (lucky charms as he calls them)— one that’s shiny and minted in the present year, the other being the oldest coin he’s ever had that happens to be older than he is — while you mutter about.

“I don’t know, Yoongs. That might be a gambling problem,” you squint, your side comment being heard clearly as day. “Might be the symptoms for hand, foot, and mouth disease too.”

“What— I do not have a gambling problem! My skin’s perfectly fine too, thanks,” he defends, the light shove he gives you doing nothing to tone down your teasing.

“That’s what people with gambling problems say.”

“Give me that-…” he mutters, trying to wrestle you for the sundae he bought you using the money he won from his scratch ticket just awhile ago. You don’t give in easily, even if your laughs that come straight from your chest suggest otherwise. “You don’t get it. It’s just this nice, fun little thing I can look forward to every week. I always buy the cheapest version anyway so when I lose, it’s not a big deal.”

You relent (like you always do when it comes to Yoongi) in understanding, waving him off after regaining your breath. “Nah. I get it. We all have to do things so we wouldn’t lose our shit,” you trail, racking your head to find the right words.“Yours is buying scratch tickets, and mine is-…”

“Yours is what?” Yoongi raises an eyebrow, lips quirked in eagerness to know where you’re going with this. He can’t pinpoint a single thing he can attach to you and neither can you, your actual interests merely reflecting those of the people whom you love.

You love cross-stitching because your mom loves doing it, the tolerance you have for accidentally being pricked by the needle growing over time.

You enjoy playing badminton because Namjoon’s obsessed with the sport, no matter how ratty your rackets and shuttlecocks have become, and no matter how much he pushes you to ring the doorbell to your neighbor’s when he’s sent it flying to their backyard.

You’re probably an imposter yet you don’t feel like it. You don’t feel bad that your life most probably and will only revolve around your mom and Namjoon (maybe even Yoongi); you don’t feel dissatisfied that your life’s mundane. 

You go where your love goes.

“Mine is watching you buy scratch tickets,” you shrug easily as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, making him laugh heartily. You’ve probably done something right because he hauls you up to your feet immediately.

“Get up. I’m buying you your first ticket,” he nudges you, grabbing you by the arm in excitement.

“But I’m not even legal!” you half-heartedly argue, internally excited that you’re finally getting to try your hand at the lottery because you’ve spent a few hundred minutes of your life tuned to the channel to pass the time, awaiting the results for something you haven’t even betted for.

“Right. Like I haven’t seen you trying to squeeze out a drop of beer from our empty cans whenever Namjoon and I drink.”

“Rude,” you roll your eyes playfully, gathering your things from the ground.

“It’s okay. I’ll give you your first sip of beer too if you want,” Yoongi offers sincerely; easily as if you’ve just asked him about the weather.

He’s here to buy you your first scratch ticket, and he’s still here to offer giving you your first sip of liquor in the future.

Your family friend for a cashier vehemently ignores the fact that you’re still underage to participate in the lottery, and instead only chuckles to herself in amusement. She’s an aunt that knows when to step in and not to, and she knows you won’t be harmed by a mere bet. In fact, she knows you won’t be harmed by anything with Yoongi in tow.

“I already used up all my change,” your frown in realization, holding the ticket in your hands in despair despite having scoured your wallet repeatedly.

“Rub it against the pavement. That’s what I do,” Yoongi lies fluidly, a scoff being caught in his throat when you actually attempt to do it.  “I was only kidding, Y/N. Jeez,” he groans, pulling out his wallet. “Ugh. Here. You can have one of my lucky coins.”

It’s the old one, tarnished beyond relief that you can barely recognize what it’s actual value is supposed to be.

“Ew. I’m giving it back. It looks prehistoric,” you narrow your eyes, knowing that you don’t even have to put your fingers nears your nose to know that it’s already left a faint stench on them.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, a habit he can’t tell he’s formed himself or got from you. “If you use your brain for one second, you’d realize that it’s actually worth more because it’s older. Collectors would go crazy for that in the future.”

“That sounds like a hoarding problem.”

He’s just had about enough of your whining so he attempts to trade in the old coin for his lucky new one, but you stop him at the last minute with a meek smile.

“Kidding. Thank you. I’ll keep it safe, Yoongi. I promise,” you rush out before he changes his mind, scratching your ticket in silence.

He waits for you because you’re scratching so politely and neatly, a stark opposite to his experienced skill of scratching the paint off in ten strokes or less.

Your face is too close to the ticket that Yoongi can’t tell what’s happening, making him part your hair like a curtain to peek.

“Did you win?”

“Nope.”

“Let me throw that out for you.”

“No!” you squeak, keeping the ticket close to your chest. It’s a bummer that your first time is a loss, but it didn’t mean that you wanted to forget the sentiment behind it. “I-I mean no, I’ll keep it. It’s memorable now that I think about it.”

“Alright,” he shrugs carelessly, a smile breaking out in retaliation. “Hoarder.”

“Gambler,” you spit, tucking the ticket into your pencil case. “Next week again?”

Yoongi agrees, wrapping his head around the fact that he doesn’t have to be alone in his little routine every Friday.

“Sure.”

( ♡ )

You don’t mind getting hand-me-downs.

As a matter of fact, you love receiving them. The wear and tear of the things that came before you is only proof that it’s been loved enough to be passed on to you.

You adore your mother’s dainty vintage watch that she wore throughout college, the hardware and sentiment behind it being pretty enough that you don’t mind constantly getting the battery replaced. You like Namjoon’s shirts that he’s outgrown, even through the numerous phases he’s had wherein only denim and tie-dye filled his closet.

You don’t mind the history behind the numerous things you have in your home, unbothered that you’re probably the only house in the block with the oldest possible rice cooker. The chips in the staircase aren’t covered up with marker ink and neither are the loose stitches in the couch quilt snipped off. It’s home to your mother and Namjoon — if it’s good enough for them, then it’s already the best for you.

Even on top of everything, you don’t mind your family almost always getting you shirts and shoes that have an allowance in them. Your mom would go to Seoul and pick out the exact pair of sneakers you wanted that are atleast three sizes bigger than your actual feet, and you’d barely bat an eye. 

You don’t mind the coziness of things that are brought to you, because even if they weren’t offered, you’d seek them yourself. 

So when Yoongi mentioned that he’s decluttering his room and needed someone (read: you) to vacuum it up for him, you jump at the chance. You take a grocery bag with you, wear the nearest pair of slippers within your vicinity, and book it to his house as soon as he finished talking.

“Go crazy, kid. Almost everything in that pile is garbage so you can take anything.”

“I feel like I should be more offended than how I feel right now,” you hum, furrowing your eyebrows at the pile in front of you. It’s a mound of Yoongi, or atleast everything he’s ever wanted up until he decided to do a general cleaning of his bedroom.

Yoongi chuckles, going through his pile of clean laundry for him to fold on the side while you scavenge for his things. “It’s either I have you take them or I get ripped off at the thrift store, then I see somebody’s uncle wearing my shirt as an added insult.”

You huff, rummaging through his heap of belongings while conveniently trying to ignore that you may look like somebody’s uncle the moment you wear his clothes. Everything is him; every distressed cap, every unfinished embroidered shirt, and every item of old significance with his initials branded on it.

The thick gray hoodie you’ve been eyeing (along with its owner) for the better part of the last few years surfaces into your field of vision, your gasp audible enough to make him jolt because he thought you’d gotten hurt.

“No way, this too? But this is your favorite,” you half-complain and half-rejoice, turning the hoodie inside-out eagerly in the fear that there’s a catch to it belonging in the pile.

“Eh. I know it looked good on me but I don’t think it’s my favorite. Besides, I’ve bulked up! Wanna feel?” Yoongi grins, his segue eerily similar to your brother’s at every given chance. A neighbor from down the block recently opened a small-time gym, and the both of them have not been able to shut their mouths about it since. From their gossiping alone, Yoongi and Namjoon have generated enough advertising already.

“You and Namjoon really have to stop asking random people to feel your biceps.”

There’s random knick-knacks throughout the clump in the middle of his bed, some being too good and actually useful that you snag them. Yoongi lets you do what you want anyways (most of the time), not having to turn his head to berate you on what you’re only allowed to grab from his stuff.

You’re not greedy — you already have his hoodie and that should be enough on its own. But there’s that handkerchief with his initials embroidered on it, then that Rubik’s cube he swore his relative got for him from New York, and even the little butterfly knife he got from a souvenir shop when his family when to the beach.

There were those and there is this, looking up at you in all of its glory.

“Yoongi.” 

“What now?” he sighs at your dramatic gasp, looking up from his folded laundry to see what you were going on about. It takes a second for him to fully realize why exactly were you so pumped.

“Are you serious? Your helmet?” you squeal, already hugging the shiny red mass close to you. “Does this mean you’re passing your motorcycle to me?!”

“Are you crazy? Fuck no,” Yoongi rolls his eyes, snatching his helmet back from you. He doesn’t miss the bratty frown that fills up your entire face; he’s not exactly the biggest fan whenever you were upset or angry; maybe even both. “Obviously I forgot I even put my helmet there when I made that pile.”

You whine, stomping your feet in exasperation. You would dramatically plop down on his bed if only it wasn’t full of his shit. “Come on! You told me you were teaching me as soon as you finish teaching Joon.”

“Teaching you how to ride my scooter is not the same as giving you it. Why would I just hand you what I bought with my hard-earned money?” Yoongi scrunches his nose, tone sharper than what he intended.

“But you still haven’t taught me,” you murmur to placate yourself and dissuade yourself from the delusion that Yoongi would even exert such an effort for you because of course — why would he do that for you?

You have an inkling that you’re being irrational for all the wrong reasons, perhaps even projecting your need to be looked after… by him.

Yoongi notices your mood that turned sour quickly, the silence between you becoming loaded. He didn’t mean to be that blunt. “I don’t think you’re even old enough to have your driving permit,” he adds in consolation, voice considerably softer.

You snicker lowly, still looking at your feet with your arms crossed. “But I’m old enough to backpack whenever you need me to carry shit that can’t fit in your carrier.”

He immediately groans at your comeback, his furrowed eyebrows mirroring yours. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You’re a hypocrite,” you retort, knowing for a fact he’s known how to drive even before he was eligible for permits and licenses and whatnot. 

Yoongi takes one, two seconds to himself to regain his composure, clearing his head in the process. You’re still not looking at him and you’re pouting and you don’t even notice the latter, making him crack a small smile.

“I will teach you next week.”

“Oh my-…”

He cuts you off, raising his hand in emphasis. “Provided that you listen to everything I say and wear full gear at all times. You clearly don’t have a job yet-…”

“Ouch.”

“And I don’t have the extra money to buy full gear for myself, so what you’ll do is bundle up with your padded coat and the thickest jeans you have,” Yoongi enunciates every word, eyes keenly on you. They’re too wide and alert, you actually feel like listening to him.

“You go on rides wearing your pajamas.”

“Just say ‘thank you, Yoongi’.” 

“You haven’t done anything yet,” you trail off, head tilting in confusion. 

You’ve had a million conversations like this with Yoongi before but of different fonts; worn, familiar, and warm.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” he mouths, nodding at you to do the same. He won’t stop until you utter them back to him, and you know you won’t go home either without giving him your gratitude as you always do.

“Thank you, Yoongi,” you relent, the grin that breaks through your lips being infectious enough that he laughs lowly to himself.

He exhales all the worries he has and could possibly ever have seeing you ride the motorcycle (or for you yearning to do everything that he does), grasping at whatever sanity he has left from looking after you.

“You can have the helmet.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi knows the ins and outs of your home.

He’s been at your house too much to the point that your mom already gave him a spare key and nobody batted an eye about it. He has his own designated slippers at the entryway too, something you would only use in a hurry if you needed to sign off on a package.

Yoongi, for some reason unfathomable (not really; you can tell exactly why because your mom is an extremely warm and inviting person), also has the power of dibs on the food in your fridge. He’d put strips of masking tape with his name on food that’s neither brought in nor made for him in the first place. 

It should be off-putting — the way that for too many yet too little reason, Yoongi has become a prominent figure in your life even if you didn’t ask him to. You should be peeved that you have to set up four plates more often that you set up only three; you should be annoyed at some point that when you wake up at random times through the night, you’re not totally alone to begin with.

You shouldbe angry at Yoongi to a degree because he’s in your life and you don’t get to have a say on how he stays in it. The only problem is that you’re not, and probably never will.

“Can’t sleep?” you mutter as you look up from your strikingly clear paper, seeing Yoongi strut across the floor with a casualness that only real occupants of the house should supposedly possess. He has his brows furrowed at you as if he didn’t expect to see you in your living room, scratching his head in wonder.

“Why are you up?”

“Stressed,” you sigh, giving up altogether in attempting to make yourself look busy. Yoongi drives by your fridge to get himself a can of beer, finally seating himself beside you on the floor. 

“Stressed about what? I’m sure it’s not about studying,” he snorts, unsurprised at your paper and the clear lack of motivation behind it. You only roll your eyes at him and he has half a mind to not remind you to not do it so much, the frown in your face reminding him that you really were frustrated.

It is you to throw the occasional tantrum, but he remembers that it was only when you were young; when Namjoon would whisper gibberish to his ear and purposely not whisper to yours just so he could tease you, or when nobody would believe that you taught yourself how to ride a bike with no training wheels. You didn’t know how to do the latter at all, but what had made you throw a tantrum was that nobody believed you.

You notice Yoongi’s digs, of course. You notice each one of his more than unsubtle nods to your intelligence and whatnot, the shots at your intellect not flying over your head like he expected them to.  You admit that you’ve never been that scholastic; you weren’t born a genius and you don’t try exactly hard either.

Yoongi’s only joking but you can’t help but to think that he’s pertaining to something deeper, his constant digs at your lack of a passion making you sluggish.

“We have to write this essay,” you answer simply, your tone straightforward and unwilling for banter but Yoongi bites anyway.

“But essays are the easiest,” he trails, looking at you the whole time as he takes a sip of his beer.

You exhale heavily because no matter what, he just can’t seem to get it. Yoongi knows where you’re coming from but he doesn’t know where you’re headed. As a matter of fact, you don’t know where you’re headed either. “We have to write an essay about where we see ourselves ten years from now.”

“But that’s still easy.”

“If it’s so easy, then go write it for me,” you snicker, leaning back with a huff. He constantly undermines you and although you own up to your striking mundaneness from time to time, it didn’t mean that you liked being looked down on. Yoongi’s too used to you being yourself, he gets taken aback when you grow sick of your own.

He gathers all his willpower, far from being sleepy unlike you who would’ve been lulled to sleep if only you weren’t dead-set on arguing with him. “You know what? I actually will,” he claps, handing you his beer. “Go hold this for me.”

Yoongi grips your pen for dear life like you hold his beer, his hand warm as he works from sheer determination alone (he’s not competing with anyone except for whatever expectation you have for him and your paper), while yours was cold just holding his drink.

You’ve been so quiet that he actually gets curious, turning his head to check to see if you’ve dozed off when actually, it’s just you eyeing the can.

“No one’s watching,” Yoongi breaks you out of your thoughts, carelessly shrugging. He cares and he’s far too concerned for you, but he figures that nothing would hurt you so long as he can grasp you. “It’s okay. You can have your first sip.”

You blink owlishly at him and when he jokes about taking it back, you take your first swig of beer in a panic. Yoongi only shakes his head in amusement, pausing his writing just to see the look on your face.

“One more?” he asks right after he sees you wince, the unbearable sweetness yet bitter, stinging aftertaste of the beer making you shudder. 

You have the urge to wash off the taste with ice cold water (you’ll even drink from the tap because you’re so desperate), but you resist it just so you wouldn’t look like a weakling in front of him. You wave him off with a bitterness, upset that beer doesn’t taste like what you’ve always imagined it to be. “Just write my essay for me,” you mull over the taste in your tongue, in deep thought while you stare at Yoongi’s back ahead of you. “Do all beers taste that way?”

“Eh. Most of them do. You develop a taste for it later on,” he answers, taking the can back from you before drinking it himself. He looks too dedicated in writing your essay, only goading the curiosity in you to peek over his shoulder.

He knows you, both in heart and memory, because he shields your own paper from you when he sees your shadow hovering above him.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm.”

“I told you why I’m up. Why are you up?”

He’s silent entirely, the only indication that he heard your question being his hand pausing abruptly. Yoongi doesn’t answer, and you don’t ask again. “Don’t worry about it.”

You take his answer to heart, dozing off on the couch before you know it. You don’t remember a blanket being placed on you, nor can you remember preparing your backpack for school the next day.

Your paper’s neatly tucked into your portfolio bearing handwriting that’s clearly not yours, but with a sentiment that’s similar nonetheless. You read through everything quickly before even stepping towards your teacher, the tips of your fingers just as cold as Yoongi’s beer last night.

You’ve committed the paper into your memory, even until the last part with an excerpt you can’t forget despite having passed the paper already. You don’t know what to feel because it’s Yoongi who’s speaking for you, detailing that ten years from now, you will still be your mother’s daughter and your brother’s sister.

He wrote your essay either for you or in behalf of you, and you can’t tell which one is better.

Yoongi, who knows the ins and outs of your home and the peaks and troughs of your heart, writes in clear handwriting — Ten years from now, I will still be Yoongi’s rock.

( ♡ )

Surprisingly, Yoongi hasn’t been around that much lately.

Even Namjoon (who you consider as his Siamese twin) is clueless to why his friend hasn’t been hanging out with him lately to do either everything or nothing, confused because they’re enrolled to the same classes all the way to the same part-time jobs, yet Yoongi’s been mostly unavailable.

When Yoongi is, however, he doesn’t speak at all about his previous absences. He comes as if he’s never disappeared a few times before that, his evasion to talk about his presence being apparent even if you’ve asked him directly.

You’re getting used to his new routine of hanging out with you only when the both of you are free, no longer moving mountains for both of your schedules to line up. He’s more present this month than he was at the last, the criteria for it being how many times you bump into him in your own home.

Despite all odds and evens though, Yoongi can’t get used to your silence. He knows you hold grudges longer than your brother, and the last time that he checked, he knows you’ve already let go of your annoyance for him suddenly being unavailable without any explanation. 

It’s late, only the two of you are awake in the living room, there’s ten scratch tickets on the table for you to share, and he’s even gotten you your own glass to which he’ll put a controlled amount (a grand total of two long sips) of his own beer in. You’re not stressing about an essay this time, but the unconscious pout on your face is still the same.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

The frown on your face only goes deeper at being found out, the scratch of your lucky coin being the only clear thing that Yoongi hears. 

“My best friends want to have this slumber party,” you sigh, more upset about what you’ve just uttered than you are happy about the cash prize you’ve just won.

Yoongi takes what you say at face-value, groaning at his third straight loss for the night. “That’s great. Wear cute pajamas, snap a couple of polaroids, don’t be the first to fall asleep and last to wake up, and just keep a pocket knife with you when you’re going out by yourself.” 

The awe (and slight concern) over what he said should roll in any time now.

You should be comforted at Yoongi’s words because they’re supposed to ease the swirl of your stomach, even if what he just said is a repackaged version of what your family said before. You should let go of your worries because Yoongi, of all people, says that it’s supposed to be great.

Instead, you feel neither of what you think Yoongi wants you to.

“Was it something I said?” he mumbles after some time, turning his nose up at you as he tries to retrace his words. “I have an extra pocket knife you can borrow if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“We’re gonna be talking about boys, Yoongi,” you screw your eyes shut, sighing into the palms of your hands with a heaviness. “We’re gonna talk about crushes and experiences and all that.”

He shudders at that, his reaction mirroring Namjoon’s when you tried opening up to him. You get your brother’s reaction to a degree, of course, because you feel as if you’d be disgusted too if the roles were reversed. You want to talk about it with your mom too, but at the end of the day, she’s your parent and you just can’t talk about anything and everything with her. 

Yoongi’s your next plausible option.

“Do you want some ice cream right now? You know what, I’ll buy you-…” Yoongi tries to evade the topic altogether, his attempt of escaping feeble as you drag him down by his hoodie.

“I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Heh.”

Yoongi shrugs at that, regaining his words when you deadpan at him. “So? What about it?”

You starfish on the floor at that out of frustration, the whine you’ve been bottling up coming out in the open because as usual, Yoongi doesn’t get it. “I-I’m probably the only one in my grade who hasn’t kissed someone yet! I can’t just lie carelessly because obviously, they’ll ask around.”

“So?” Yoongi chuckles, his breeze towards your state shocking you. “What’s it to them if you haven’t had your first kiss?”

“You don’t get it,” you grit through your teeth, crossing your arms so hard that it feels hard to inhale.

“I’m pretty sure I do,” he sing-songs, drinking the last of his beer. When you’re not looking though, he plans to either drink or chuck the remainder of your share because he doesn’t want you to develop a taste for it.

The anger you have for Yoongi bubbles up once again, the itch in your throat unbearable. You’re presented with the age gap between you once more, along with the raging emptiness in you that Yoongi’s reached so far and you’ve reached so little.

“You don’t get it because you’ve had all of these experiences when you were younger than my age right now,” you snap, although you don’t look at him when you do. If you do look at him though, you’ll only be reminded of how a face like his could have everything in this world — even a first kiss you’ve never had.

“Yeah, and so?” he knits his brows, growing defensive. You weren’t lying at all, but he still feels a little offended at the dig. He’s not not proud of it, but with the way you say it, it’s like you want him to burn in shame,

“Stop saying so,” you angrily mumble in frustration, a little breathless because you still don’t ease up on crossing your arms.

Yoongi straightens his posture, staring you down with his jaw set. He’s stern as he is, nostrils flaring in irritation. “No, Y/N. I’m genuinely asking — so what? What’s it to you if I had my first kiss at a younger age? What about it if everyone else in your grade has kissed someone and you haven’t? It’s not the end of the world.”

“I-I don’t know! It’s just unfair!” you let up, yielding to both the facts that Yoongi’s right with it not being the end of the world, and that you’re still entitled to feeling upset.

“Instead of spending time obsessing over your first kiss, maybe I don’t know,  try being productive? You’re heading to college soon and you haven’t even thought of a career,” Yoongi goes off on you, making you roll your eyes automatically. There he goes again with the great big push of trying to push you into your supposed passions in life. “Someone else’s luck doesn’t mean it’s already your misfortune.”

“But it is.”

You say it so definitively, you almost convince him. You have your principles and so does Yoongi, but not everyone else. You have your principles yet you don’t have the luck. You’re not getting anywhere in life just like Yoongi or anyone else who was remotely born into wealth, no matter how quiet or obvious.

You can’t pursue something that interests you in the slightest without thinking what would come out of it. You can’t think of a degree and a course you’ll stick with, enough to do for the rest of your life because the only other option is to fail completely if you don’t. You have no plan and no passion and you don’t know if you’ll ever amount to anything to anyone at all.

By all means, you don’t agree with Yoongi this time. Someone else’s luck is your misfortune, in the same way that his first kiss doesn’t mean that it’s yours.

The sidetrack to your argument is a closed case already, judging by your downcast gaze. “I just have to put myself out there, that’s all. My first kiss doesn’t even have to mean anything. I just want to have it,” you admit, shoulders relaxing.

“Don’t,” Yoongi groans, the opposite of you as his whole body tenses.

He thinks that you don’t get him at all.

“What do you meandon’t?”

Your argument’s long-over (atleast you thought it was) but Yoongi’s getting more agitated by the minute, the disbelief on his face throwing you off. “Don’t do things just because you feel like you have to! Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“I don’t want to be left behind, Yoongi! That’s all I’m trying to get at,” you raise your hands in surrender, shrugging thoughtlessly — it makes him want yell into a paper bag in exasperation. “I don’t want to be picked last. I don’t want to not be wanted.”

Yoongi exhales, screwing his eyes shut. It stays silent like that for a little while; him calming himself down, and you scratching your tickets. The calm doesn’t stay for long because you open your mouth carelessly, again.

“Can you be my first kiss?”

“Are you insane?”

“Ugh.”

You go back to your fourth scratch ticket, pouting in disappointment. You’re unfazed about the win that’s probably the largest sum you’ve had ever since you started doing the lottery.

You’re upset and you’re sick in the stomach but you stay silent like you never asked Yoongi to be your first kiss; it’s like you haven’t indirectly admitted to him that you love him enough, more than so, to want him to be your first.

You’re about to scratch the final ticket when Yoongi juts his hand out, fingers barely brushing yours to stop you.

“On second thought, don’t scratch that. Just keep it.”

“Because you want to turn me into a hoarder too?” you snicker, heeding his suggestion regardless.

“Because I’m not going to be right about everything,” Yoongi mumbles, looking at you with a solemnness you can’t decipher.

You try until the solemnness turns into pity.

“Still don’t want to be my first kiss?”

Yoongi softly laughs to your face, smiling as he lets you down — whether easily or harshly, you can’t tell.

“You already know what I’m going to say.”

( ♡ )

You’d like to think that you’re not kept in the dark about most things.

You already know that although your mom hasn’t had any relationships since your dad left, she still has plenty of suitors. Some of them are the reason why you have random food deliveries in the middle of the dinner that she’s already cooked, some have sucked up to her by getting you and Namjoon gifts. 

You know about Namjoon’s growing love for football, even with the lessons he takes in secret because he didn’t want to trouble your mom for the money. It’s why he does his part-time job and why you’re looking for one anyways. You don’t want nor need much, so you almost always give him the remainder of your allowance by the end of each week.

Yoongi, on the other hand, you don’t know much about. You know that he’s an only child with a doting mom who works overseas and a rich but emotionally unavailable dad at home, and that’s about it. His home life is synonymous with yours, considering that your four walls have become an extension of his.

Maybe you’ve become too lenient on him — either that, or he’s become too disrespectful. It’s at times like these where your house is not his home, sickeningly so that you don’t want it to be yours either.

Yoongi is a sight to behold as he makes out with a half-naked girl on your bed, in your room. Your room has never been the neatest but with everything going on, it feels that it’s become the dirtiest that it’s ever been. Your house slippers are on the floor even if you always leave them by the entryway, and your sheets are a mess despite being one of the only things you try to keep folded in the room.

You’re angry, too much to the point that the words get caught in your throat. They catch onto bile and venom and everything at once, the strain in your voice heard when you yell.

“What the fuck?!”

Yoongi and the girl, whom you figure out to be Hyewon that he’s shared his first kiss with, jolt in unison. Hyewon’s scared shitless while Yoongi’s annoyed to death, the grunt he lets out pricking your ears further. “Sorry, sorry. She’s my best friend’s sister. She’s so annoying,” he drags you out of your room before he even gives you the entitlement to storm out of there in a fit of rage, seeing red the longer that he seems upset at you.

“What the fuck was that, Yoongi?” you grit through your teeth, the moment of you seeing red turn into white because you’re so frustrated that you could actually cry. Your chest’s heavy, not only out of rage, but out of everything that’s built up in the course of years.

“Can you keep it down?” Yoongi seethes, pursing his lips. “What, would you rather see us do it in the living room?”

“In the — what? Who do you think you are? This isn’t even your house, why are you bringing these girls here?” you point an accusing finger at him yet he doesn’t back away, his annoyance for you only growing tenfold.

He’s in the wrong no matter which way you look at it yet he doesn’t realize it, the epiphany that Yoongi genuinely thinks he’s in the right for doing this to you making your skin burn in fire.

“This is literally the first time I’ve ever done this! I can’t bring her back to my place, my dad has guests over!”

“So your smartest idea is to fuck someone in my bed?”

“Oh, you’re welcome. It’s the most action your four walls have ever seen,” he spits sarcastically, eyes narrowing at you. It takes little effort for him to dig up what you came to him for in worry and it terrifies you. The facet of Yoongi who had sternly told you that it was okay to be left behind if it means getting what you deserve, resembling nothing like him at the moment.

“I can’t believe you!” you whisper as you tremble, the tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “I told you that in confidence.”

“In confidence? It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that you’re not exactly a catch, Y/N.”

You clench your jaw so hard that it hurts, you ball your fists so tightly that it stings.

You leave your home without saying another word.

.

.

.

Namjoon’s panicked.

He came home a little later than usual because he had maximized the life out of his soccer lessons, only getting the signal to leave when the lights were turned off. He was only slightly worried at the first place because he was supposed to cook dinner for the both of you, but he placated himself by realizing that you’re not the baby that he still thinks you are — you could cook dinner for yourself if you were hungry already.

He thinks nothing of it. In fact, he just makes a quick stop at the convenience store so the both of you could indulge in a liter of ice cream without your mom urging to leave some for another night. You could think of a recipe from scratch (and it almost always works out at the end), so Namjoon walked in fully thinking he’ll get to sniff whatever concoction you have.

Except, he walks into a completely dark house, and that’s when he panics.

He can’t find your slippers by the entryway and you’re not in your room either. You’re not at the other convenience store hunched over taking your chances on scratch tickets, and you’re not out on the street either going people-watching.

The panic rises in him the more that Namjoon grasps this is the first time that this has ever happened and he doesn’t know why. He’s always made an effort to be absorbed into both your personal and academic affairs, and as far as he knows, you’re neither in a sleepover nor on a field trip somewhere.

Namjoon thinks it’s his fault someway somehow, and the guilt can’t fully dissipate from him until he sees you.

“Hey, Yoongi,” he breathlessly gasps the moment his friend answers, the latter being surprised because he thought it was you who was calling him after what happened awhile ago.

It’s his fault and he’s realized that hours too late, and the selfish part of him thinks that it’s you calling at ten in the evening begging for forgiveness.

“What’s up, man? It’s late,” he wonders out loud, thinking for a second if they were too much of the Siamese twins that you tease them to be because he can’t think of a rational reason why Namjoon would call him at this time of night.

Namjoon raggedly exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m just wondering if you’ve seen Y/N by any chance?”

Yoongi’s heart drops so loudly that Namjoon thought for second that his friend had hung up on him, his urgency being shared the moment that he asked.

“What? Y/N isn’t home?” Yoongi asks in disbelief, immediately being filled with anxiety and disbelief. Just awhile ago, the two of you were arguing outside of your room. He did hear you leave, but he had fully expected for you to be back hours ago. He’s wracked with guilt all over, the drop in his chest amplified by the pit in his stomach.

“She’s not. Practice ran late and I-I know she’s responsible so I didn’t hurry home,” Namjoon recalls, being more and more frazzled by the second. “She left her phone here, and mom isn’t here either because she’s visiting my grandparents, a-and I don’t want to call her because I know she’ll be worried, a-and-…”

Yoongi interrupts him, the tremble in his fingers only enabling him to dig his nails into his palm deeper. “I’m coming over. Let’s look for her together.”

It barely takes a minute for the both of them to come together, not even exchanging any pleasantries with each other before Yoongi steps on the gas. 

Namjoon’s filled with guilt, the type that only a sibling could carry as a burden. He thinks he was too selfish — too accustomed to pulling your own weight that it must have given you the impression that you had no other choice but to. Whatever it was that made you leave out of the blue, Namjoon thinks he could’ve done more. He should’ve came home and made you dinner as promised, for starters. He’s guilty over the fact that he’s the only close familial male figure in your life and he let this happen, as he makes Yoongi put his headlights on high-beam, scanning for anyone that looks remotely like you.

Yoongi, on the other hand, is filled with a guilt he can’t even begin to explain. It corrodes him from the inside-out in realization that he’s to blame for your sudden disappearance, the fact that Namjoon comes to him first to help find you not helping at all. If only your brother knew what he had done to you, he’s positive that he’ll be on the receiving end of a punch — what gets him more is that Yoongi wouldn’t blame him at all.

They see you in the bus stop two cities away, dressed in the same clothes you ran out with. 

Namjoon’s relieved beyond compare while Yoongi’s fuming, his hands tucked inside his jacket to prevent himself from squeezing you into an embrace; neither of you deserve it. 

There’s an underlying anger within Namjoon, one that lies behind the back of his throat as he checks you over for any injuries. The two of you walk ahead to Yoongi’s car while he himself trails behind, his heart significantly calmer than it was the past hour, yet nowhere near normal.

“Wanna tell me what you did?” your brother hums, trying to exhale the worry that’s embedded into him with each squeeze he gives around your shoulders.

“Went to the convenience store, bumped into my friends, then we took this impromptu roadtrip to go to the night market, then we all had our first actual shot of liquor and not just beer, my friend who owns the car turned out to be a lightweight, and now everyone just has to commute home,” you narrate in recollection, squeezing Namjoon back to try and ground him.

“Okay,” he answers simply, nodding. “Wanna tell me what happened before you did all those things?”

The breathless chuckle that leaves you is empty, void of any amusement at all. You smile nonetheless, unable to placate both yourself and Namjoon. “Nope.”

You arrive in silence to Yoongi’s car, the words unsaid between the three of you generating more tension than your brief disappearance itself.

Yoongi opens the front door for you, but you settle for sitting in the backseat.

[leclercsainzz]

WISTFUL YEARNING PART 2

PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x fem!reader

TYPE: social media au

part 1 - part 2

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 683,027 others

yourusername: c’est la vie

see translation: that’s life

tagged: @yourbrother

view 5,846 comments

user: @yourbrother is sooo fine, omgg

user: pretty girl 😍

user: charles liked 😭

leclerc_pascale: la plus jolie fille de tous les temps 😍

see translation: the prettiest girl ever

↳ yourusername: 😘

↳ user: pascale just like me! i’ll never get over charles and yn

arthur_leclerc: toby 🥺

yourmom: mes bébés

see translation: my babies

↳ yourbrother: tu m’aimes plus

see translation: you love me more

yourbrother: pourquoi essaies-tu toujours de prende mon chein?

see translation: why are you always trying to take my dog?

francisca.cgomes: my love 😘

user: the fact that charles liked means so much to me

user: her brother fine asf 😍

↳ user: their genes are perfect!

user: charles really fumbled

↳ user: how? he’s literally married with a kid on the way

↳ user: that’s a win for me .. if anything yn fumbled

user: WISH I LOOKED LIKE YOU 😩

user: charles liked abbakansns

charles_leclerc: @yourbrother 😍

↳ user: tHe cOmmeNT

↳ user: same charles same

↳ user: even after all these years, he’ll always choose yourbrother

user: i know that comment was for yn 😉

↳ user: he just tagged @yourbrother as a distraction

user: youre so gorgeous 😍

user: toby’s sooo cute omg

user: ohh, to be her 😩

pierregasly: mon français préféré 😘 @yourbrother

see translation: my favorite french

↳ yourusername: mon garçon français préféré 😘 @estebanocon

see translation: my favorite french boy

user: LMAO THESE TWO 😂

imessage

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, yourbrother and 642,910 others

yourusername: ice cream makes everything better(:

view 4,038 comments

leclerc_pascale: ma belle fille, tu as raté notre rendezvous

see translation: my beautiful girl, you missed our date

leclerc_pascale: je vous pardonne

see translation: i forgive you

user: nOt her ditching pascale 😭

user: charles is going through it while she’s on ice cream dates

user: NEW MANS OR WHAT?!???

user: who is that?!!? 👀

user: isn’t that charles and her favorite ice cream shop??

↳ user: oMG THAT IS

user: she’s showing her new boy her fav ice cream shop 😭

user: wait— she’s in monaco?!!?

user: that could be @yourbrother for all we know

user: yn, babe, you ditched THE pascale leclerc?!!?? 🤔

↳ user: anD for what?!??

arthur_leclerc: où etait mon invitation? 🙄

see translation: where was my invitation?

↳ yourusername: je ne sais pas de quoi tu parles

see translation: i don’t know what you’re talking about

user: plot twist— that’s actually charles

user: not her having fun w/o charles 🙄

↳ user: gIrL WHAT?!!?

↳ user: mans found out his whole marriage is a lie and this is her

↳ user: it’s not her fault, tf?!!?

charlotte2304: mon amour 😘

see translation: my love

user: what do you think about charles’ situation???

user: why are people still bringing up charles?!!

↳ user: bro, literally! like let her live her life

↳ user: they can’t move on, frr 😭

user: that ice cream looks sooo good

↳ yourusername: THE BEST, trust me

user: who’s the dude?

lorenzotl: c’est logique pourquoi tu as abandonné

see translation: makes sense why you ditched

↳ joris__trouche: mhm

↳ user: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

↳ user: one word— CHARLES

↳ user: you’re delusional, my friend

user: she’s soooo pretty 😍

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 685,840 others

yourusername: monaco, tu seras toujours célèbre <33

see translation: monaco, you’ll always be famous

view 6,013 comments

user: THE FERRARI SHIRT

user: she’s still a ferrari girl!!

user: yn, you’ll ALWAYS be famous <3

user: bodyyy omgg 😍

user: that painting is so beautiful, girl!

↳ yourusername: thanks love

↳ user: I LOVE U QUEEN

user: monaco’s IT girl

user: every time charles likes her post i die inside

isahernaez: beauttt 😍

↳ yourusername: ily my loveee 😘

user: i hope her and charles get back together

user: exwifename could NEVER compare to yn

user: TE AMO, YN ❤️

see translation: i love you, yn

yourbrother: apporte-moi quelque chose

see translation: bring me something

↳ yourusername: 🙄

user: the woman that you are, my goddd 😩

user: my only goal in life is to be like you

user: she still supports ferrari

charles_leclerc: admets juste que je t’ai manqué ;)

see translation: just admit you missed me

↳ yourusername: si je dis oui, alors quoi? 🫣

see translation: if i say yes, then what?

↳ user: UMM?!! PARENTS INTERACTING?? WTF??

↳ user: “then what?” U GET TOGETHER, DUHH

user: bitCh— is he flirting?

user: she knows damn well what she’s doing wearing that shirt

francisca.cgomes: sexyyy

↳ yourusername: girlfriend, that’s youuu

↳ pierregasly: tu devrais retourner en france @yourusername

see translation: you should go back to france

↳ yourusername: reste en colère, putain de merde 😘

see translation: stay mad, stupid fuck

user: her friendship with pierre is to much 😭

↳ user: i cant tell if they actually like each other or not most times

↳ yourusername: trust me, i love that ugly french

↳ pierregasly: love you too stupid bitch ❤️

↳ user: tHat’s progress, i guess 😂

user: MOTHER 😍

imessage

yourusername

liked charlotte2304, isahernaez and 689,847 others

yourusername: ☀️

view 5,836 comments

user: are we gonna talk about arthur’s story yesterday?? 👀

user: i wanna have this life so bad

user: bodyyy-odyy 😍

user: you CANNOT tell me that isn’t charles

↳ user: it’s def him!

yourmom: a-t-il cuisiné ce délicieux repas?

see translation: did he cook that delicious meal?

↳ yourusername: oui! je peux confirmar que c’était délicieux

see translation: yes! i can confirm it was delicious

↳ user: if this man can cook, it’s not charles 😭

user: ain’t no way its charles since he cant cook

yourbrother: les pâtes ont l’air bonnes 🤤

see translation: the pasta looks good

↳ user: yourbrother is the biggest charles food hater

↳ user: so that confirms it’s not charles or????

charlotte2304: oooouuu 😍

user: is that charles?

user: girl— arthur’s story??? hello???

charles_leclerc: mine mine mine mine

comment has been deleted

charles_leclerc: je veux des pâtes maintenant

see translation: i want pasta now

↳ user: are ya’ll together or nah??

user: PLEASE TELL ME THAT’S CHARLES 😭

user: ughh, you’re literally goals 😩

↳ yourusername: 😘 you’re a doll

user: YN, one chance, please 🙏🏼

user: guys, that is definitely charles

leclerc_pascale: tu me manques, jolie fille

see translation: i miss you, pretty girl

user: CONVINCED that that is charles

lorenzotl: 😏

user: part of me says it’s charles the other part says nooo

user: can we trade lives?

user: idk if i want to be you or be with you 😩

user: her account is aesthetically pleasing

user: @charles_leclerc that better be you, mate

carlossainz55: did he really cook? 😂

↳ yourusername: yuppp

↳ user: this confirms it’s charles, noo?

user: prettiest girl ever 🥰

↳ yourusername: ❤️❤️

↳ user: OMG ILY

yourusername

liked by lorenzotl, leclerc_pascale and 699,640 others

yourusername: yes, i’m that bitch 😘

view 6,102 comments

user: the caption lmao

user: OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

user: parents are officially back

user: bItch omg—

user: she’s THAT bitch (a baddd bitch) 😍

user: @exwife currently crying rn

user: MOM AND DAD

user: YN, YOURE A BADDD BITCHH 😩

user: can chaRles fight?!??

↳ yourusername: unfortunately, he cannot

↳ yourusername: so i’m gonna need you to settle down, babes

↳ user: are you flirting with me??

carlossainz55: ABOUT TIME

sebastianvettel: ❤️❤️

user: the shade 🤣

leclerc_pascale: ma belle fille 😘

see translation: my beautiful girl

isahernaez: gorggg 😍

user: I KNEW THEY WERE BACK TOGETHER

user: THANK GOD THEY’RE BACK 😭😭

user: leave him, he doesn’t deserve you

yourmom: je vous aime tous les deux ❤️

see translation: i love you both

user: we love supportive mothers

↳ user: yourmom and pascale >>

user: YA’LL BETTER GET MARRIED THIS TIME FRRR

| liked by yourusername

user: charles is a romantic

charles_leclerc: je t’aime, mon amour 😘

see translation: i love you, my love

charles_leclerc: c’est ma fille

see translation: that’s my girl

charles_leclerc: mine mine mine mine

↳ user: we get it, that’s your girl 😔

arthur_leclerc: “just friends” 🤣

↳ yourusername: 🤫

↳ user: LMAOO

charles_leclerc

liked by yourmom, sebastianvettel and 700,177 others

charles_leclerc: avec l’amour de ma vie 🤍

see translation: with the love of my life

view 5,846 comments

user: will never get over them

user: PROPOSE TO HER, YOU COWARD 😩

user: that’s a sexyyy back

yourmom: ❤️❤️

user: yn, you’re sooo gorggg 😍

yourbrother: ella ressemble à ce minion

see translation: she looks like that minion

↳ arthur_leclerc: oui, ella le fait

see translation: yes, she does

yourusername: mon amour 😘

↳ charles_leclerc: je t’aime

see translation: i love you

user: wife her up

user: MOM AND DAD FRRR

user: he sure moved on real fast 🤣

↳ user: its been like two month, YOU move on

↳ user: plus yn is literally the love of his life .. (soulmates frr)

user: “with the love of my life” 😭

user: exwife could’ve had all this LmAo

user: actually, she’s the love of MY life

user: they’re so important to me

user: you better not fuck up this time

joris__trouche: 😉

user: MY wife and her boyfriend

user: you better wife her up, mate

user: ynnnnn 😍

user: can we talk about his back for a second?!!? 😩

user: poor exwife 🥺

↳ user: girl, bye! go support that cheater elsewhere

user: HE GOT THE GIRL AGAIN!!!

user: parents 😘

user: she’s the most gorgeous girl ever, i swear 😍

| liked by charles_leclerc

user: ADOPT ME, PLEASE

user: i love them so muchhh 😭

user: my parents

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbrother and 674,857 others

yourusername: meet my baby boy leo <33

view 4,026 comments

user: OMG THAT TWITTER ACCOUNT WAS RIGHT

user: omg omg omg omg

user: bItch omg— IM IN LOVEEE 🥰

user: can ya’ll adopt me too?!?? i can bark

user: i need toby and leo to meet

yourbrother: 🥺

↳ user: WE NEED A PIC OF TOBY AND LEO

arthur_leclerc: oncle arthur à son service

see translation: uncle arthur at his service

lorenzotl: aww

charlotte2304: je suis amoureux

see translation: i’m in love

user: THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😭

user: leooooo 😍

user: mommas boy

user: i can also bark, if you wanna adopt me as well

user: i cant, omgg

charles_leclerc: ma belle fille

see translation: my beautiful girl

charles_leclerc: mon beau garçon

see translation: my beautiful boy

charles_leclerc: mes deux amours ❤️

see translation: my two loves

landonorris: im gonna steal him next time i see him

scruderiaferrari: now we just need a baby leclerc

| liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc

↳ user: admin is one of us 😭

↳ user: LMAOOO

user: PLEASE ADOPT ME TOO 😩

user: that dog lucky asfff

user: where’s the ring at??? 👀

user: mom and dad (frrr) 🥰

user: he’s sooo cute omg

francisca.cgomes: baby leo 🥰

user: obsessed with their cute little family

user: we need leo to meet toby asap

alex_albon: cuteeee

user: lewis got competition in the paddock now

user: charles referring to them as “my two loves” 😭😭

user: CHARLES, WIFE HER UP

carlossainz55: 🐶

user: them >>>

user: alexa, how can i become a dog?

user: BARK BARK (adopt me now)

user: cute family 🥰

user: obsessed with them omg

carla.brocker: awhh 🥺

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 698,748 others

charles_leclerc: LEO LECLERC LN 🐶❤️

view 5,197 comments

user: OMG HE HAS BOTH THEIR LAST NAMES 😭

user: when are you gonna wife yn up??!??

user: leo leclerc ln 🥺

user: leo pulling up to miami is so iconic

user: daddy’s boy

pierregasly: 😍

↳ user: is this emoji for leo or charles???

yourusername: mon garçons 😘

see translation: my boys

yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️❤️

user: where’s yn’s ring??!?

user: charles, adopt me, please

user: leo 🥰🥰

user: yn went to the miami gp to support her man!!!! 🤩

↳ user: and leo went to support his dad!!

user: that dog is luckier than me, i swear

user: he better wife yn up

| liked by charles_leclerc

user: i dont think leo realizes how lucky he is

user: leo, ask your parents if they can adopt me 😭

user: yn and charles starting a family

yourmom: 🥰🥰🥰 baby boy

user: obsessed with them

user: i love their cute little family

user: yn leclerc when??

user: couldn’t take toby from yourbrother so yn got her own dog

user: model leo??

user: second slide is so cute omg

user: they got their first puppy together 🥺

user: his last name 😩

user: i wanna be part of this family too

user: in love with all three of them

user: leo got the model genes from his mommy 🤣

user: WE NEED LEO AND TOBY TO MEET!!!! @yourbrother

user: the LECLERC-LN family is everything 😩❤️

↳ user: the way both their families are soo close is so cute

↳ user: pascale and yourmom are the biggest yncharles shippers

[dadvans]

when I want to run away (I drive off in my car) [bucktommy]

Chimney comes over with an armful of DVDs. Mandated brother-in-law break-up bonding time. Buck is pretty sure that isn’t a thing, at least not the kind that Chimney seems to be suggesting with what are discernibly all romcom titles. Buck is pretty sure Chimney should be taking him out and getting him wasted and encouraging him to get laid, but then again he’s friends with Tommy too so there might be some allegiance at play here.

He groans when Chimney puts on Say Anything.

“What, you actually know a movie made before 2012?”

“Tommy loves this one,” Buck replies. There had been a showing at repertory cinema in July and Tommy had dragged them both to escape the afternoon heat. It had been… sweet. There had maybe been three other people in the place who ignored them in the back row, making out like teenagers.

“Yeah, he’s always been a secret softie,” Chimney says.

“I’d say you should be over at his place with these,” Buck continues, flipping through the titles. Love Actually. The Proposal. Crazy, Stupid, Love. “These are actually his favorites. Wait, was I your second choice?”

“What? No,” Chimney says, but he sounds kind of cagey about it.

“He’s probably too busy cliff diving or BASE jumping.” Buck drops the DVDs. “He was the one who dumped me, remember? I don’t think he’s too hung up to need a chick flick movie marathon.”

“Now that is not true. Secret softie, remember? He’s hurting as much as I’ve ever seen, he just doesn’t wear it on his sleeve like some people.” Chimney gives him a very pointed look. “I bet he stood outside your door a half hour after he left hoping you’d chase after him, feeling like a total idiot.”

That’s new. “Did he tell you that?”

Chimney shrugs. “Maybe not verbatim, but he may have let something slip in a moment of total weakness.”

Buck snorts. “So, what are you doing over here with me and these then?”

“I was maybe hoping I could inspire you into some of your usual Buck heroics,” Chimney admits, then has the gall to look offended when Buck twists to stare at him, confused. “What? I’m a meddler. I notoriously meddle. C’mon, he said some things he wishes he could take back, but maybe he’s not as confident as you give him credit for. He’s a romcom guy. He could use a little woo-ing too, you know. Someone who makes him feel like he’s worth fighting for. A big gesture! Not—not moving in or anything, but just—you see what I’m saying here?”

Buck stares at young John Cusack paused on his TV screen and smiles to himself. “Yeah, I think I might.”

He spends the rest of the day off his couch driving through half the pawn shops in Glendale before he finds himself, sun setting at his back, outside Tommy’s house. He parks between Tommy’s truck in the drive and walks down the sidewalk where Tommy’s kitchen window is lit up and open.

Tommy comes outside thirty seconds later to the sound of Peter Gabriel blasting out of the second hand stereo Buck’d finally found with an aux input at St. Vincent de Paul’s. His mouth twitches as he crosses his arms before he coughs and tucks his head down, briefly.

“Really?” He asks when he blinks back up at Buck, eyes wet like the last time Buck saw him: hope there, fleeting, wanting so badly to swim to the surface and stay. “Wait, did you plug your phone into that thing?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, loud enough over the music the whole neighborhood can probably hear him. “I don’t know how to burn CDs.”

Tommy’s smile finally cracks through, and he nods before taking several careful steps across his dead lawn, feet bare, so he can get two tentative hands on Buck’s hips. “Well, if you want to come inside,” he says, “I can show you.”

[abbeym28]

Clarisse x Reader - This is a Life

Clarisse x gn! reader

Reader is from the Aphrodite cabin, but only for the plot!

An- Around 3.3k words, sorry it took so long to get out! Hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know if I should write something that kind of does more of a deep dive into this, because I feel like something is missing or something

Warnings- Weapons, fake dating, blood at one point, affection, petnames, guy named Andrew (apologies to any one named Andrew), Aphrodite is a pretty okay mom in this. Pls tell me if I missed anything!

Everybody in camp recognized you as the favored child of Aphrodite. People looked twice when you walked by, flowers bloomed in your direction, and mirrors wished they could reflect you.

Clarisse is the favored daughter of her dad, Ares. People feared her, flowers looked away as she passed, and only a select few could stand to be close to her.

But even those who were close kept a great distance.

That was what was similar between the favorite Aphrodite kid and the favorite Ares daughter.

But even that was comparable, for she was a daughter, and a daughter could never compare to a son in her fathers eyes, whilst your mother seems to love you unconditionally.

You and Clarisse weren't close by any means, but you had always caught each other's attention on some level.

For you, it was how she sparred. Muscles flexing, covered in sweat, and a wild and free grin spread across across. You could find beauty in her that was no wheres else in the camp.

For her, it was the way you held yourself and how you were with young campers. Your slight confidence, the care you have for each camper, and the way you treat others. It was admirable, considering the way that Clarisse was probably the opposite of you.

“-risse, Clarisse, Clarisse!” Clarisse brook out of the slight stupor she was in and looked across the table where her sibling was calling her name and waving his hand around. “Oh, thank the gods. I about almost called over an Apollo kid to check on you.” She rolled her eyes as he laughed a bit.

They were in the dining hall, for it was lunch. Her plate was still quit full as she looked down at it. She was hungry, but she felt as if there was something preventing her from eating.

“Hey, would you look at that.” Her brother was looking past, his eyes holding questions. She turned her head to look over her shoulder and scoffed. There you were, holding your tray and standing talking to Percy Jackson, who was sitting alone at his Poseidon camp table.

That Capture the flag game happened a while ago now, but it was still upsetting how many people still like that kid, even after what he did, although it makes sense with all of the things he has done.

Her grip on her fork tightened, and she glared hard in your direction. Her brother snorted. “You really like them, huh?” She whipped her head back to look at him.

“What? Who?” She softened just slightly after he said your name. “Where did you get that idea?”

“The way you two look at each other. There's a rumor going around that you two are secretly dating each other, but we all know that you would never.”

“Never what?”

“Date anyone. Especially them.” She scoffed again.

“What do you mean?”

“You're not… an emotional person. Everyone knows you couldn't even make a relationship actually work.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Fine then.” She slammed her hands against the table and got up, making her way over to you. Percy noticed her first and scrambled to sit up straighter and to not smile. You raised your eyebrow at him, but he nodded his head in Clarisse’s direction and you laughed a little.

“Hey Claris-” you lifted one of your hands up to wave, but once she was close enough she took that hand in hers and then wrapped her other arm around your waist, pulling you towards her in a kiss.

The whole camp seemed to go quiet, and while it wasn't the most emotional kiss, Clarisse was very passionate in how she was kissing you, it was overwhelming to say the least. Your tray dropped, spilling food all over the ground and making a loud crash. Your hand found its way to the back of her neck and you gently tugged on her curls and twirled some of the baby hairs at her nape around your fingers. She broke off the kiss, looking you right in your eyes as you were flustered and tried to reclaim your breath.

“Um, what the-'' Percy began, but before anything else was said Clarisse tugged on your hand and ran towards the forest with you.

“Clarisse, what was that a-”

“Date me.” She blurted out the words before her mind could tell her to not to.

“What- this is super out of the blue, even for you Clarisse!” Clarisse rolled her eyes.

“We can fake dates then. Just for a few months or so.”

“How is that even relevant?!?!”

“If we fake date, then none of it will be real. And then, I get to prove something, and you…well,  I can make sure people dont bother you.” You narrowed your eyes at her.

“But why?” Clarrise sighed deeply and your eyebrows furrowed more.

“Look, people already think we are dating, my sibling thinks I could never be in a relationship, and I don't hate you. Much.” She then looked you up and down in a way that almost made you wish that you were invisible.

“Now, how well can you act?”

The shock of the century happened at camp Half Blood the next morning at breakfast when Clarrise showed up with you attached to her arm. Jaws were on the floor and every table was turned towards your direction.

Clarisse had a proud smirk on her face as she survived the dining hall. Some part of you also felt weirdly proud as well, as if having your arm intertwined with hers was the reason you were at this camp anyway.

She moved you in the direction of the Ares table, an arrangement the two of you had settled on while setting up rules and guidelines. You would sit with her at her table, at least come to most of her training sessions and sit next to her at the bonfires. She would visit the strawberry fields and lake with you, join the craft classes you have with young campers, and on occasions, she would allow you to place a kiss on her while wearing lipstick or lip gloss, making sure to leave a mark.

You both also agreed on minimal kissing, which was a shame since she was a good kisser. Any other types of touches were pretty much guaranteed if the two of you were near each other.

“Goodmorning.” Clarisse greeted the rest of the table, untangling her arm from yours before setting her tray on the table and then sitting down. You did the same, and in an instant, Clarrise wrapped her arm around your waist, situating her hand on your stomach comfortably. You scratched a bit closer to her so your thighs were touching.

A chorus of morning greetings left various peoples mouths and Clarisse hummed a bit. She reached for a bag of apple slices and ripped open the small bag with the help of her teeth. You giggled a bit and nudged her side.

“Honey, that was kind of weird. You know you could've just let go of me, right?” She stared into your eyes mischtifully.

“You lost me at let go.”

It took everything in you to not burst out laughing as a few people around you literally gagged. She winked at you and you grinned at her before the two of you each turned back to your breakfast.

Your chin sat on both of your palms as you sat in the stands right outside of the training grounds, watching as Clarisse took on another camper in a dual. Capture the flag was coming up in about a week, but despite that, many people have come up to you asking if the news that had spread around camp was true.

“Hey, babe, did you see that?” Clarisse was jogging over to you, a smile on her lips. You smiled back at her and once she was close enough moved to stand between your legs, her hands trailed up your thighs lightly before they landed on your waist. You tried your best to ignore the shiver that went through your body.

“I missed it. I’m sorry hun.” You put one of your hands on her shoulder while you fiddled with one of her strands of curls with the other. She let out a breathe, and you could almost swear she was pouting.

She leaned in closer, her lips almost touching your ear. “You're doing good, yeah?” she whispered.

“Yeah.” you whispered back. She moved a little bit back and smirked.

“Good. You keep doin’ that, 'kay sweetheart?” she patted your thigh twice before turning and running back to her training. Your heart skipped one to many times during that interaction.

Please Mother, let me survive this.

The next week and a half went pretty much like that, with you and Clarisse glued to each other's sides for the entirety of the day. She was even somehow able to convince Chiron to put the Aphrodite cabin on the red team.

You were with Clarisse now, getting ready for the capture the flag game. Your armor sat heavily on your shoulders as you did your best to fix all of the straps while following your “girlfriend” and listening to her bark out orders and plans.

Some of your siblings were grouped together all complaining about how much stuff they had to do compared to when they were on the blue team, but you knew that some of them were grateful that Clarisse knew that they were capable to do things that the other cabins could do.

Clarisse looked behind her where you were still struggling with your armor. She sighed and moved closer to you. She carefully took your hand in hers and then tighten your straps so that way it was secure. You watch her face the whole time, finding the way she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration to be quite cute.

“There. You ready to do this?” She looked up, pausing when her eyes met your. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before your eyes flickered to the ground, or at least any wear that wasn't her face.

“Yeah, I am. What did you want me to do again?” She huffed out a laugh and then moved past you.

“All you need to do sweetheart is to follow me.”

Even though you were out of breath, you continued to follow your fake girlfriends footsteps.

Well, it wasn't like you had much of a choice with how tightly she was holding your hand and tugging you along paths.

Out of nowhere, a group of people from the blue team jumped out of the trees and began to attack. Clarisse let go of your hand and brought out her spear, running forward and taking on two people at once.

You took out your provided sword and prayed that your trainings with Clarisse would pay off. Your sword clashed with the sword of a boy from the Hermes cabin, and you recognized him as a guy named Andrew, someone who used to follow you around and flirt with you before you and Clarisse became a temporary item.

“I’ve been wondering if I could even get you alone.” Andrew backed you away from the rest of the group and more into the trees.

“I have a girlfriend, Andrew.” You made sure your voice was stable and hard. You hoped you could get your point across to him, but this is the guy who couldn't take a hint from you before, so it was evident that he wasn't going to start now.

“Come on, everyone knows that you like me. We can tell that Clarisse pressured you into the relationship. The two of you weren't meant to be.” You tripped over a root, sending you falling, hitting the ground hard and hurting your back in the process.

“Me and you were meant to be together. Couldn't you see that I was flirting with you? ‘Cause I could see that you returned the feelings with how you flirted with me.” Your eyes flickered for any type of escape from his anger and jealousy, but there was no safe way out with how he was practically sitting on your stomach. It made you sick with how close his face was to yours.

“Well,” you carefully moved your hand to twirl a longer strand of his hair between your fingers. It was straight, especially compared to Clarisse’s. You tried to ignore how wrong this felt, and you tried to push away the urge to gag. If using the charm you had gotten from your mother would get you out of this, then so be it. “I had no idea you felt like that, sweety. What can I do to make it up to you?”

Charmspeak wasn't against the rules. After all, this was the gift that was given to you from your godly parents.

You watched as his eyes followed your hand as you began to softly caress his face.

This has to be one of the most disgusting things you have ever done.

“So you do like me! I knew th-” Andrew stopped his sentence as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he flopped off of you to the side. You jumped up, finding yourself in front of your savior.

“Clarisse! You knocked him out! Is that even aloud?!” Clarisse laughed and poked Andrew with the none sharp end of her spear.

“He deserved it. Easiest decision of my li…” you stopped trying to wipe off all of the dirt that had resided on your clothes to raise your eyebrow at her Clarisse.

She was staring at you, her mouth slightly open and an almost entranced look in her eyes.

Was there dirt on your face? Did you somehow use your charmspeak on her?

“Um, Clarisse, maybe we should-'' Before you could finish your sentence, Clarisse had brought her left hand up and gently slid her thumb over your cheek bone.

You guessed that you had gotten a small cut there, and from the small flash of red that appeared and her thumb, you guessed that you were right. She moved it away a bit, and then she pushed back a strand of hair that had begun to obstruct your vision. She kept her hand there then, and you brought up your hand to touch her wrist, a grounding move for you were starting to feel light headed. You stared into eachothers eyes, and what broke you apart was the flinching sound of the games ending conch shell horn.

The blue team had won, another year in a row.

Clarisse sighed and ended the contact, moving away and bending down to pick up your discarded sword. She put it in your hands.

“You weren’t too bad out there. And, you, huh, you looked, um pretty good too.” She nodded, cleared her throat and turned away from you, heading back down the trail, but not before using her foot to push Andrew out of the way more.

For some reason, that was the moment you finally realized how in love you were with your fake girlfriend.

That night, your mother appeared in your dreams for the first time. Sitting on the wood pierre that was feet above the water, with moon light reflected off the liquid, Aphrodite appeared in front of you. With curly brown hair and brown eyes, and that tanned skin that you could swear you had begun to memorize, your mom looked different from what you expected.

“I appear as what you are attracted to,” Aphrodite nudged your shoulder from where she sat beside you. She seemed to respond to what you were thinking. “For you, that's that girlfriend of yours.”

“Fake girlfriend. We aren't really dating.” Aphrodite laughed in a way that made your heart beat a bit faster. That laugh belonged to someone who now had your heart.

“Could… could you switch to look like someone else? This is kind of unnerving to me.” She laughed again and shook her head.

“I can't be here for long, my child.” She change the subject.

“Then why are you here?”

“You're in love somehow. I know that you probably wouldn't tell her without some sort of push.”

You stared at her. She was practically glowing, the sear fabric that was draped on her body floating.

“Hearts aren't meant to hurt, hunny. If you distance yourself, or try to break away from her and move on, then two hearts will get hurt.”

Silence fell over the two of you, just for a moment.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Am I… am I really your favorite? I mean, other people say that, but you've never given me a gift, and I haven't been on a quest, and this is the first time I've even met you. I just-”

“There are many of you, and I have love for each of you and your siblings. But yes, it could be said that I am very proud of you, and what you have accomplished.” Tears started to fill your eyes, though you weren't sure exactly why you were crying.

“Goodbye, my dear.” She softly pressed a kiss to your cheek.

And with that, your mother was gone once again.

Tears were running down your face once you woke up.

You moved off your blankets and got up moving towards the cabin's front doors. It was almost pitch black, and it was easy to tell that it was still night. Maybe just sitting out on the porch and thinking would do you some good.

But right when you were a few steps away, the door started to crack open.

Your mind jumped to many conclusions, like there was a ghost or one of your siblings had stayed out late with their partner. Then you caught sight of the hand that was pushing on the wood.

It was the same hand that has intertwined with yours, the same hand that had held onto your body all week. The same hand that you had seen wielding a sword for years.

“Clarisse?” The door stopped opening, and then Clarisse poked her head through the opening.

She whispered your name back, and you took note about how this was the most sheepish you had ever witnessed her to be. She backed up, and you went out of your cabin to join her.

“Hey.” she whispered.

“Hi.” you whispered back. “What's wrong?” You could swear that her hand twitched in the slightest, like she was about to reach out and hold yours but thought better.

“I, um, had a nightmare. You were the only place I could think to go to. It’s fine now though, so you should go back inside and get your beauty sleep.” She turned away from you, starting to go down the steps back to her cabin.

“Do you like me?” She stood still on the second step down. You walked towards her slowly, and you started to wish you had brought a blanket out with you. The night chill was starting to get to you, and you were starting to wish that you had that type of safe feeling.

“My, um, my mother visited my dreams tonight. And we talked, and I know that we havent really been dating, but i kike you Clarisse, and I kind of hoped, only if you want, if we could kind of be offic-”

A pair of lips crashed into yours before anything else happened. The passion from the first kiss that the two of you had shared was there still, but this time something felt so much more real.

You felt so many emotions, and so did Clarisse, and you knew that she was trying to convey them all to you like this.

Both of her hands were on your face, each one gently holding your cheeks so you could stay in place. Your hands were on her wrists, but you moved them to the back of her neck where you gently tugged on her curls. You smiled into the kiss.

Her hair would always be your favorite.

Clarisse pulled away from the kiss, and laughed when she saw your eyes were still closed. You glared at her a little, but your smile was still present on your face.

“I do.” Clarisse said. You hummed and tilted your head in confusion. Clarisse laughed again a bit.

“I do like you.” Somehow your smile got even bigger.

“So we can kiss anytime now?”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

[osachiyo]

lovesick!lucifer who'll stare at you from across the room, laughing at one of his younger brother's stupid jokes. sighing, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose− he wishes he could make you laugh like that− wait, what was he thinking? he should really get back to work.

lovesick!lucifer who'd ask you to come over to his office for no actual reason. secretly hoping that you'd stay and keep him company, but his pride wouldn't allow him to actually say it to you.

lovesick!lucifer who feels conflicted− why was he feeling this way towards a mere human, you? he'd never feel this way before− so why was he feeling so.. strange towards you?

lovesick!lucifer who isn't too fond of sweets, but takes you to cute little bakeries and cafes just to see your face light up, a grin splaying on your soft lips as you thank him. oh devils, you couldn't get cuter.

lovesick!lucifer who'd actually thinking of lessening some of mammon's punishments, your pleading eyes almost too much for him to resist.

lovesick!lucifer who finally, finally gathers himself to confess to you. putting on his favorite cologne− the one that you complimented, fixing his hair about a million times to ensure that he looks perfect.

lovesick!lucifer who picks out the highest quality of red roses for you, the same color of his painted nails, symbolizing the passion and love he felt for you.

lovesick!lucifer who's face falls when he's about to enter the room, stopping in his tracks as soft giggles spill out of your room. the door slightly ajar. he knows he shouldn't take a peek, but he can't help himself. curiosity getting the best of him− and as the saying goes, curiosity killed the cat.

lovesick!lucifer who watches, watches as you lay on top of the fourth born, head resting on his chest, while your twinkling eyes hold so much love and adoration for his younger brother.

lovesick!lucifer who's heart shatters into a million pieces as he watches you kiss satan's face, smushing his cheeks together, affectionately bumping your nose against his cheek. he gently closed the door shut, not wanting to peek any further. footsteps heavy as his broken heart against the carpeted floor, as he returns back to his office.

lovesick!lucifer who pours himself another glass of demonus, the alcohol burning in his throat as he gulps it down. he should've known, really. pride dwindling as his eyes land on the forgotten bouquet of crimson roses sitting on his table. he really should've known better.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, likes and reblogs are very appreciated♡

[pinksilkribbons]

MAMA SAID: Yandere! Jason Voorhees x F! Reader

CW/TW: bullying, sort of stalking (?), ableism, kidnapping, canon divergence, death (not mentioned in detail at all)

i might make a part two if you guys want it idk. also the end is kinda rushed sorry lol. i love jason sm and i really tried to explore his character a bit here, specifically younger jason.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who you met at camp.

This was your first time attending and you were pretty nervous. Your whole life you've always been a little shy around new people, and your mother decided it would be the perfect opportunity for you to make some new friends.

No matter how much you whined and begged she was dead set on you going. You even faked a fever, and she still wouldn't budge! And so, here you were: Hot, sweaty, and carrying an overpacked duffel bag.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who has been to camp crystal lake a few times now. Thanks to his past experiences he knows his way around pretty well. He also knows who to avoid and not mess with. Since a lot of people like to pick on him, he's kind of took it upon himself to be prepared for anything.

Thats why he makes sure to hide behind some trees, closely watching the entrance. It's important that he knows what to expect or, in this case, who to expect.

First comes in Mia and her twin brother Mikey. The two of them don't really mess with him much so there isn't much concern there. Next, Terri. Terri was pretty mean to him, but she never got physical. As long as he stayed quiet and out of her way things should run smoothly.

A few more campers who he isn't familiar with walk through. A sick feeling sets in his stomach. The kind that tells you something bad is going to happen. His mother warned him of this. They were expecting far more campers than usual this year...he wishes he could say it excited him.

To his dismay, the last few campers rush through. A terrible chill runs through his body at the sight of his bully. Or, well, bullies. There's a small group of kids who especially get a kick out of messing with him.

Last year they set up a "prank" in his cabin and poured an entire bucket of water over his head while he slept. When he started choking, they just ran off while giggling. If his mother didn't come to help him who knows what could've happened.

Among the group is a new person. A girl, actually. A pretty one at that. Jason zeroes in on the pretty girl as they all walk in together. The leader of the group, Alex, is walking much closer to the girl than anyone else.

Of course, she's probably his girlfriend. I mean, they're pretty young but he's seen a few people claim to be dating anyway. But he's noticed it's a different kind of dating compared to what the counselors do. Kind of weird.

Jason sometimes wishes he could have a girlfriend. Maybe even just a friend. He just wants someone to talk to. Someone to play with. Someone to look at him and not be disgusted or scared.

"Jason! I made your favorite!" His mom calls from a distance.

As weird as it may seem, Jason feels a connection to the girl already. If he worked up the courage, he'd like to speak with her...even if it's just once. He really wanted to stay and watch her some more, but he knew better than to worry his mama. So, he walks through the woods and makes his way towards the cafeteria.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who has been discreetly searching for you. Most campers are near the campfire making s'mores, but you're nowhere to be found. As risky as it is Jason makes a decision. Besides, there's a camp counselor not too far from here so he should be safe.

"Hey, Alex? Can I ask you s-something?"

The blonde swifty turns back and scowls at him. Jason already feels a sense of fear creeping up his neck. "What do you want, freak?"

With a deep breathe he continues. "Uhm...what happened to your friend? The...girl?" The last part comes out as if he's questioning if he saw correctly. If that girl was even real at all.

Alex's face seems to get even more annoyed by the second. He jumps up and hands his friend the pack of marshmallows he was holding. The bully glances around, clearly checking to see if any adults or counselors are within range. The two of them meet eyes and there's an unspoken agreement.

He won't do anything when a counselor is just over there.

A leaf crunches under his shoe as he moves closer. Jason wants to move back, every inch of his body is ushering him to get away, but his fear keeps his feet right where they are.

"Listen to me, mama's boy", his words come out venomously, "[Name] is my cousin and if you know what's good for you, you'll stay away from her." Tears surface near the end of Jason's eyes at the harsh tone. He feels ashamed for even crying anymore. It's happened so many times that he should be used to it by now.

Alex and his friends cackle loudly. Whatever they're saying he's sure it isn't nice. No matter, though. Jason already feels himself cheering up. He speeds up and swings open the cafeteria door, making his mother jump in surprise.

The boy can't help the wide grin taking over his face.

"Goodness, baby! Knock next time. I almost had a heart attack."

His mother's words don't even register in his mind. He may not know where the girl is, but he knows her name now. That's a win in his book!

Even her name is pretty.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who finally sees you again during lunch. A few of the newer campers were calling him names so he ran off with his sandwich in hand. He finally came to a stop once he was a little deeper in the woods, and there you were, sitting against a tree and drawing a sketch of the lake.

A blush rushed to his cheeks and he nervously ducked behind a nearby tree. Unfortunately, you'd heard him and jumped up rather quickly.

"Who's there?" You asked, eyes scanning for anyone nearby. He stayed quiet and hoped you'd just dismiss the sound.

"I'm serious, Alex. After that stunt you pulled last night you're lucky I didn't tell anyone." You seemed to pause, as if you were waiting for a response. "Hello...Alex? Is it you?"

Jason felt a bit bad when he seen you so scared. You held the sketch book to your chest tightly and your legs were trembling in fear. His mom taught him to always be honest and true so, maybe he should just come out. "Uhm. It isn't Alex..." He said, slowly peeking his head from around the tree.

"Oh."

The two of you stood there awkwardly taking in each other. To his surprise you didn't seem disgusting or scared. Just curious, if anything. He felt a little nervous being looked at so thoroughly. You hated him already, didn't you?

"Sorry about that. I'm [Name]. Jason, right?" You tucked the sketchbook under your arm and reached out with the other, offering him a shake. Jason's hand trembled against your own, yet still firmly shook all the while.

You hadn't spoken with him much, but he has quite the reputation at camp, so you've heard of him. No good things unfortunately. He didn't seem like a bad guy to you though. Just a different one.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who you became friends with ever since that handshake. He introduced you to his mom and she was more than excited to learn her son made a friend.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who you sneak into the cafeteria with at night to steal some sweet treats. The two of you haven't got caught once since the counselors are never doing their job anyway.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who you defend from bullies. Including your cousin Alex. Sometimes it ends with the both of you bleeding, but you don't care about that! Jason is your friend and you're not going to stand by and let him get bullied!

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who loves watching you draw. At night after scoring some cookies, the two of you sit near the lake and he watches you sketch. His favorite was a self-portrait you drew, and since he liked it so much, you signed it and let him keep it.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who can't find you at breakfast time. When he asked him mom she simply told him that she didn't know. So, he decided to go check on you. As he approaches the girls cabin a counselor stops him with a strict look on her face.

"Can I help you?" Jason fails to mask his look of annoyance. Since when did they start caring about the kids around here? "M-my friend [Name]. I couldn't find her at breakfast and wanted to make sure she's okay."

"Oh, her. Yeah, she's sick. For some reason they're making me watch the kid." Her emphasis on 'me' made it seem like it was an insult for her to have to watch [Name]. How stuck-up.

From this alone Jason could tell today would be a rough one.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who suddenly gets ambushed by Alex and several other campers when he walks back near the campfire. They rush towards him and begin pulling the white mask off his face, shouting insults all the while.

"I heard [Name] got sick! Bet he gave her the cooties!"

"Ew, look at his face! I can see why he wears that thing around."

"You're such a mama's boy. Too good to hang out with the rest of us, huh?"

A terrible feeling settles on his chest. He'd been bullied before, but so many people throwing insults at him all at once was a lot to handle. Too much to handle.

With newfound adrenaline Jason runs off, not even realizing that he's nearing the dock. All he can think about is getting away. He just wants it to stop. He hates himself. He hates his face, his personality, he hates all of it. A part of him wishes he was never born.

He just wants to be left alone!

The voices of the campers get louder. They're Approaching. They're getting closer. And suddenly, Jason is right back to that same day.

That day where he approached Alex and asked about [Name]. That same day he couldn't move and was just frozen with fear. He hated how he felt then. And he never wants to feel that way again.

He has to move! He has to do something!!

So... he jumps into the lake.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who misses you more than anything. He misses his mother too, of course, but she was still with him. In spirit at least.

"You should go find her, Jason", his mother tells him.

And He wants to. He wants to find you. He wants to hug you again. He wants to eat cookies with you again. He wants to sit by the trees and watch you draw again. He misses his old life. He misses you.

"So go find her and re-live that life."

If he leaves then who will watch over camp? Forget it. It would be selfish of him to leave their home unattended for his own desires. Anything could happen while he's gone! Besides, there's no telling how long it'll take him to find you.

The voice of his mother laughs a bit. "You're so sweet, my son. I will lead you to her. A quick trip. Here and back."

Jason was still hesitant to agree. But if mama said it'll be okay, then it should be okay. Right?

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who finds your apartment quicker than he expected. Judging by the boxes scattered throughout different rooms, he's assuming you've only just moved in.

He snoops around a bit out of curiosity. Can you blame him? It’s been years since you’ve seen each other. He finds a picture of you graduating high-school in the living room. He realizes then that he’s never met your parents.

Moving forward, he creaks open the door to your bedroom. In the corner he spots a canvas with a few strokes of paint on the surface. He isn’t sure what you were trying to paint, but it makes him happy to know you’re still into art just as much as back then.

Luckily you live alone. He was a little worried about having to kill someone in order to bring you back with him. He didn't want to ruin your clothes with blood or anything like that!

The second he sees your sleeping face he feels a warm feeling hug his heart. It had been too long. You lost all that baby fat and now had a mature, even more beautiful face. Not that he expected any different. You were always so gorgeous to him.

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who grabs you out of bed and throws you against his shoulder. You wake up pretty quickly and start kicking and squirming as soon as you register what’s going on. Who the hell even is this?!

“Hey! L-let me go!!” You start banging your fists against his back but it doesn’t even seem to affect him. He just keeps walking and walking, not speaking a single word the entire time.

Eventually, you begin sobbing. Your throat goes dry from how much you’ve been screaming. It is pretty late, but how come no one is coming to save you? Why can’t anyone hear you?

The cold air is eating at your legs since you slept in a cami top and some shorts. Your captor still has yet to speak. He also has a super tight grip. It would definitely bruise. If you even make it out of this alive.

“Please…” You beg, slowly losing hope. There are no street lights, cars, houses…nothing. He was taking you to a secluded area to do who knows what to you. This was the end. This was how you’d die.

After a few more minutes the man grunts and swings open a door. It’s pitch black outside so you aren’t exactly sure where you’re at. “Please, just let me go.”

He stays silent and lays you down on a bed surprisingly gently. Before you can even blink he’s binding your hands against the headboard with some rope. His hands move fast to make sure you have no chances of running away.

You feel more tears fall down your cheeks. How could this happen to you? Why was this happening to you?

Yandere! Jason Voorhees who feels bad for tying your hands up. He didn’t miss the way you winced in pain. Mama said it would be necessary until you get used to living here though.

When she says it’s time, he’ll allow you to take them off.

“She’s so beautiful, Jason. It’s only a matter of time until she gets comfortable with you again. Until then, she’ll have to stay like this. . .”

He hates this. Jason just wants to untie you and hug you like old times! He hates seeing you so sad, so scared. He feels bad for even doing this in the first place.

He trusts his mama, though. So for now, he’ll stay patient and wait for you to come around.

Just like mama said.

[djemsostylist]

The thing I love most about the Warhammer 40k Space Marine game, starring one Captain Titus of the Ultramarines, is that it explains NOTHING. AT ALL. This game goes "well you wouldn't be playing me if you didn't know what Warhammer was, right?" and they would probably be mostly correct except that no, actually, I didn't even know what a space marine was when I first played, way way back in the early 20teens.

The game dumps you into a world where you play as a Captain of the Ultramarines. What is an Ultramarine, you ask? Why it's Captain Titus of course! and Leandros and Sergeant Sidonus. Are there more of them? Maybe, who knows! What's a Blood Raven? It looks like you, but different colors, and there are also only 4 of them. Are all of the space marines just squads of 4? Did you used to have a fourth and he died? Are you an army or a strike force? Who knows! The game for sure isn't gonna tell you!

What's an "inquisitor?" Well, it's Drogan of course! The one you have you save! And he's a psyker see. (What's a psyker, you ask? Well, it's what the Inquisitor is! Is it the same thing? NO IDEA! Just keep killing!) Now, is he also a space marine? Hard to say! Are space marines big, or just people in like, really big armor? WHO KNOWS! Not you, now kill some orks! Why are we killing orks? Because that's your mission of course!

And oh, hey, you're on a Forge World, fighting through the factories of the mechnanicum. What are these things? Well, you're on them and in them, what else do you NEED to know?

My favorite bit is when the Forces of Chaos show up, and a demon rips his way out of the fabric of reality, and it's just like "oh yeah, did we forget to mention you might have to fight demons? OOPS! Well, they pop as delightfully as an ork, so hop to it!" and then they just give you a different sort of Really Big Gun you can use to get on with the killing. Leandros seems concerned, the Inquisitor and Sidonus don't (and who outranks who? The regular men and women call you "Lord" but you call the Inquisitor "Lord" and all of you seem beholden to a "God-Emperor" (and is he an emperor or a God, or something of both?) but the only thing that matters is whether you chose a Plasma Rifle or a Lascanon to get through this next round, so who are you to question anything?

When the Inquisitor tells you to "meet at the monument" you just do, even though the monument is a nondescript hooded figure that says nothing and means little (except that these people do have monuments to something, and is it a saint? a martyr?) and so you go there anyway because there are more greenskins coming and you are about to get a thunderhammer (and maybe a jumppack, though those never last long.)

There are skulls sort of everywhere and everything looks like some sort of outsized Gothic cathedral and the voice that drones on and on sounds British and clipped and the words she says are dystopian and strange but there are always more orks to kill (and demons and men who look like you but aren't you, and are they really men behind those masks anymore, spilling from yawning purple clouds and splattering the walls with blood before vanishing i a lingering miasma) so you just keep going.

At one point a man who is not a man offers you the chance to become a god, to become a creature of whatever form you wish, and you still aren't entirely sure what the ultramarines are (and who is Lord Guilliman and his tenants your battle brother holds so dear) but there is a certainty in your refusal, a rigid belief that you won't fall because you can't fall (and did the man who is not a man who offers you a godhood fall? or has he always been like this?) but you deny him anyway (because you can, because you must, because you are an Ultramarine or because you believe in something more?) and you fight and fight and fight and kill and kill and kill and kill and kill and bleed until perhaps there is no blood left (your armor is huge and cumbersome and the floor shakes when you land but you move with grace and speed and roll and dodge and kill and live and what are you even, really?) and in the end you have saved a world and when you say "More than you know" you mean it with your whole heart because you are human, you are, you bleed, and you tire, and you grieve and you mourn (but are you human, really? if you can touch the darkness and not give in, not turn aside, if men call you angels and demons speak of gods) and it all means nothing because men you are you but not you show up, men in black and white (they look like Holy Orders, Hospitallers or something close) and a man who is an Inquisitor who is not Drogan, who speaks softly but firmly and they take you away and Leandros looks on with fear and maybe regret (and you do it to save Mira, you think, her and all the others you died a thousand times to save except you lived, and she lived, and they call you Angels and if you can't die maybe it's true, or perhaps you love them, all of them, the men and women who look at you with awe and fear and love, and isn't that being an Angel, in the end?)

Anyway, I've played this game thrice through (easy, medium, hard) and read all the codex and I still, to this day, do not know what happens at the Siege of Terra and what happens to make 30k 40k, and I think that's really sort of beautiful, in the end.

[literaryavenger]

Birthday Kiss

Summary: It's Bucky's birthday and he decides to spend it with his best friend, Steve, and Steve's little sister, you.

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader, Brother!Steve Rogers x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Angst. Idiots in love. Fluff. Vague mentions to sex. Language 'cause I can't help myself. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 3.4K

Prompt: "So what should I say?" "when?" "when I love someone." "you should say it"

A/N: Since it's almost Bucky's birthday I wanted to celebrate it with my first fic with 40s Bucky! He's one of my favorite Buckys and I've been wanting to write about him for a while and I finally got this idea! Hope someone enjoys it! In my mind this happens like a year before Captain America: The First Avenger, so Bucky is turning 25, Steve is 23 and the Reader is 21, but you can always imagine any age you want. As always, any ideas for fics are appreciated!

Masterlist

You enter the room to see Bucky is hanging out in yours and Steve's apartment, like he always does, sitting down at the window, smoking a cigarette and reading the evening newspaper while a football game plays on the television in the living room and Steve sits on the couch, drawing on his notebook.

You're used to Bucky being here, he's your big brother's best friend and you've come to be very close friends with him too, even if you wished there was more.

As clichè as it is to have a crush on your brother's best friend, you couldn't help it. He was handsome and funny, and he's always sweet and protective of you.

You've known him since you were 9 years old, and he's the only family you have left other than Steve.

"Is this really how you're going to spend your birthday?" You ask Bucky as you sit on the couch next to Steve.

Bucky turns around towards you with a bright smile, his blue eyes lighting up as soon as he sees you, like they always do whenever he's around you.

He puts out the cigarette and stands up, walking over to you, sitting down on your other side and pulling you into a side hug.

"Hey, doll. I didn't think you were gonna be here today." He says, although he seems more happily surprised by your presence than disappointed.

"I live here, Barnes." You tease him with a smile. "Unlike you."

He rolls his eyes playfully as Steve snickers next to you while he keeps drawing. "I know that. I meant, I thought you were gonna be out with your friends tonight."

"I didn't feel like it." You dismiss him quickly, not wanting to actually say out loud that you'd rather spend his birthday with him doing nothing than go out with your friends, so you try to casually change the subject. "I thought you'd at least want to spend today with Dot."

Dot isn't actually Bucky's girlfriend, they've been on a few dates and you've seen them together a couple of times, but Bucky introduced her to you as a friend so you don't think they're that serious.

Not that Bucky ever is, girls are always all over him and he takes advantage of that. He's a ladies man.

But you try not to worry too much about his love life, not wanting to hurt yourself more than knowing Bucky will never see you like that already does.

"Well, I wanted to spend my birthday with my favorite pair of siblings. She can give me my birthday kiss tomorrow." He says with a grin while ruffling your hair.

"So... What's been going on with you lately, doll? Anything interesting happening in your life?" He asks curiously after a pause, genuinely wanting to know more about your day-to-day activities and experiences.

"I... Well, I went on my first date." You say shyly while playing with the edge of your dress.

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, his interest piqued by your sudden confession. "First date? Who was it with? How'd it go?" He asks with what seems like excitement but mentally preparing himself to potentially become jealous or possessive no matter who you mention.

"It was fine..." You say quietly, still not looking at him. "It just wasn't... It wasn't what I was expecting..."

Bucky senses something off in your tone and expression, and immediately becomes concerned. He places a gentle hand on your knee, trying to comfort you without making it too obvious.

"What happened, doll? Did things not go as well as you hoped they would? Are you feeling okay?" He asks softly, trying to gauge whether or not you want to open up about what happened during your date and if there's anything he can do to make it better.

You don't really know how to answer his question, so you don't, simply glancing at him before looking away and shrugging.

"Tell me what happened, I'm here for you no matter what. If that guy hurt your feelings or made you uncomfortable, I'll kick his ass for sure." He promises fiercely, his protective instincts kicking into high gear whenever you seem vulnerable or upset.

You giggle weakly at his protectiveness but still don't look at him, so he takes your chin gently but firmly and makes you look at him. "Tell me what happened on your date. Was it some creep who tried to grope you or something worse? Because if he did, I swear to god I will find him and break his fucking legs."

"That's not it, Bucky." You say quickly. "It's just... He just... He wasn't..." You. He wasn't you. That's what you want to tell him, but you can't, so you sigh and shrug again. "He just wasn't my type."

Bucky knew what was your type. He knew he was your type, he has seen you ogle him countless times when he walked past you or sat near you.

He also knew that you had never shown any interest in any of the men who approached you, always dismissing them as not good enough for you. Or at least that's why he thought you did.

Glancing at Steve before looking back at you again, Bucky says quietly. "Well, that's too bad for him I guess."

"It doesn't matter, I'm not seeing him again." I say quietly, avoiding both Steve and Bucky's eyes.

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion, he couldn't believe you were so quick to give up on a potential relationship just because the guy didn't live up to your impossible standards.

"Doll, you gotta give guys more of a chance. They ain't all as bad as you seem to think they are." He scolds you playfully, but there was also a hint of underlying irritation in his tone as he takes a long sip from his beer bottle.

You glance at him before looking away again. "So... You think I should go on another date with that guy?" You ask quietly.

Bucky thought for a moment, weighing the pros and cons of pushing you to go on another date with the mystery guy. "Yeah, actually. I mean, if you think he's worth giving a second chance, then why not? And if he turns out to be a total dud again, then at least you can say you gave it a shot. But only if you're really sure he's worth your time though. Don't waste it on some loser who doesn't appreciate everything you have to offer."

He advised you, trying to strike a balance between being supportive and challenging you to take risks when it came to relationships. "But whatever you decide, don't let me pressure you into doing something you don't want to do. You've gotta follow your heart, doll."

"You know, Stevie doesn't care this much about who I date, and he's my older brother." You tease Bucky while glancing at Steve.

Bucky snorts in amusement, "Yeah well, I'm not your brother, sweetheart, but I'm your friend and your wingman, and I'll be damned if I'm gonna sit back and watch you throw away a potential chance to be happy. Now come on, make up your mind already. Are you gonna give the guy another chance or not?" He pressed, playfully but determinedly.

You look at his face for a moment before looking away again and sighing. "I'm not." You say quietly but firmly. "I'm not going on a second date with that guy." You clarify.

Bucky felt his jaw tighten a little as he realized that you had completely ignored his previous suggestion and were instead deciding against giving the guy a second chance.

He didn't like the idea of you potentially missing out on something good due to your own stubbornness, but he also knew that he couldn't force you to do anything you didn't truly want to do.

"Well, fuck. Guess that settles that then," He said after a moment of silence, trying to hide his disappointment but failing miserably. "You're really gonna just throw that opportunity away? Fine, suit yourself, I guess. But don't expect me to hold your hand or anything when you get sad because you're alone. You're on your own with that shit."

"I guess I am." You say quietly before getting up from the couch and going to the window, climbing into the emergency staircase to go up to the roof, like you do most nights to watch the stars.

Bucky watches you leave, feeling a mix of frustration and concern as he realizes that you're retreating to your usual spot on the roof rather than staying and talking to him.

He wants to call after you, to make sure you're okay, but he knows better than to push you if you need time alone.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and tries to focus on the present moment, reminding himself that sometimes people need space and time to themselves.

"Fine. Have it your way," he calls after you, knowing that there isn't much else he can do in this situation. "But don't think for a second that I won't be keeping an eye on you up there. You better not try anything stupid."

You roll your eyes but don't stop, going up to the roof, that's right above yours and Steve's apartment, and sitting on the picnic blanket you and Steve use every night.

After a few minutes someone else comes to the roof and you can tell it's Steve by the light steps. "You sure you want to let Bucky alone in our apartment, Stevie? I'm afraid he might burn it down." You joke weakly without turning around to look at him, your eyes locked in the city's skyline.

Steve chuckles and you can feel him sitting down next to you. It's not the first time you sit together on the roof, everybody in your apartment building knows this is the Rogers siblings' spot.

You don't say anything and neither does Steve, and you're especially glad he doesn't say anything when he sees a tear falling down your cheek but simply wraps his arm around you as you lay your head on his shoulder.

"What's going on in your head, little sis?" Steve asks you after you stop crying.

You try to gather your thoughts, trying to find a way to make sense of everything swirling in your head. You take a deep breath before you pull away slightly and turn your head towards the city again. "What should I say?" You ask quietly.

"When?" Steve asks with a frown.

"When I love someone." I clarify looking back at him.

"You should say it." He tells you firmly. It's not the first time you've talked about this, Steve knows about your feelings for Bucky and like a good big brother he always tells you to express yourself. "You should tell him."

You sigh and look away from him and back to the New York skyline. "I don't know, Stevie..."

"Why not, Bambi?" You smile softly at his use of your childhood nickname because Bambi is your favorite book, but then you shake your head.

"Have you seen the way he looks at Dot? I have no chance with him. I'm not his type." You say with conviction.

"You really don't see it?" Steve ask, getting a little frustrated.

"See what?" You ask confusedly while looking back at him.

"The difference between you and her is that he looks at her like she's the prettiest girl in the world," Steve says and your heart sinks so you look away from him, but he still goes on. "but when he looks at you it's like... It's like maybe you're magic. He looks at you with such reverence and respect. He looks at you like if he could just have you in his arms, everything would be okay. Like if he had you, nothing could touch him. He looks at you like he just realized what love is."

Steve pauses and grabs your chin gently to make you look at him before finishing. "He loves you. Anyone can see that. You're just too blind to notice it."

Steve kisses your forehead and then gets up and goes back inside to the apartment, leaving you to think about everything he said.

You lay down on the picnic towel on the ground of the roof and look up at the stars. Could Steve be right? Does Bucky really love you back but you just haven't noticed?

If Bucky had feelings for you, certainly you would've noticed.

Yes, he's protective of you and he's always happy to have you around, but you've been friends for over a decade and he is your brother's best friend, so he probably sees you as just that. His best friend's sister.

But he never did treat you like Steve's annoying little sister.

Even when you were kids he always tried to include you in their games and literally held your hand whenever the three of you went somewhere, like the park a few blocks over.

He would always coo on you when you got any scrapes while playing and kiss your boo-boos away.

He's always been very sweet to you and he stood up for you as much as he did for Steve whenever someone bothered you.

But could that really be actual love? Or is it just affection for a girl he's known since you were little and sees as his own little sister?

You rub your eyes before putting your hands behind your head, getting comfortable while looking at the sky full of stars.

In the meantime, Bucky heard everything from the window of your apartment.

He couldn't deny the truth of what Steve had said, he did look at you with a sense of reverence and respect, like you held the key to unlocking his heart and making everything else in his life fall into place.

But he also knew that he had to tread carefully, to approach you in the right way or risk scaring you off completely.

As much as he wanted to take control of the situation and make things happen on his terms, he knew that he needed to let you come to him, to give you space to process everything that Steve told you and to allow you time to realize how much you actually mean to him.

As Steve climbs back into the window, he gives Bucky a pointed look and a pat in the back, silently encouraging him to talk to you.

Bucky takes a deep breath and then climbs into the stairs, getting to the roof but not getting any closer to you. He's determined to talk to you, but his nerves are getting the best of him.

You can hear Bucky coming to the roof and when he doesn't move closer you frown slightly but think he's just giving you a moment before sitting next to you.

When he stays put for a couple of minutes, you roll your eyes and with a small smile you say "You can come lay down next to me, if you want." Loudly enough for him to hear, your eyes never leaving the stars above you.

Bucky's heart skips a beat as he hears your invitation, and without hesitation he steps forward and drops down onto the towel beside you.

You can tell he's trying to keep his movements quiet, not wanting to startle you or disturb your peaceful contemplation.

He lays there quietly for a few moments, taking in the sight of you lying there so effortlessly beautiful, before finally speaking.

"You have no idea how much I wanted to hear those words coming from your mouth," he whispers and moves closer to you, placing one arm around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, feeling incredibly vulnerable by the fact that you were so physically close and you were allowing him to get even closer.

"Thanks for letting me do this," he added, indicating the embrace.

"It's not the first time we've watched the stars together, Buck..." You whisper back, resting your head on his while willing your heart to stop beating so fast.

Bucky smiles softly, feeling a warm sense of contentment wash over him as he wraps his arms around you, feeling incredibly grateful for this moment of intimacy between the two of you.

He can feel the gentle weight of your body against his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. He listens to the sound of your breathing, feeling his heartbeat slow down as he takes comfort in your presence.

"Yeah, it's not the first time... But it feels different tonight." He whispers back, feeling a newfound confidence and boldness coursing through his veins.

He moves even closer to you, pressing his face against your neck and inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of your skin. "I've always... I've always wanted to hold you like this."

"I... I always wanted you to..." You whisper back hesitantly and bite your lip when he presses his face against your neck, almost scared to move, worried that if you do it'll ruin the moment.

Bucky feels a surge of pleasure course through his body as he hears your response, knowing that you too cherished these special moments with him.

When you don't say anything at his physical contact he continues to hold you tightly, feeling a deep sense of connection growing between you.

He presses his lips against your neck, gently kissing and nibbling on your skin, feeling a newfound desire burning within him that he had never experienced before.

He wants more than anything to take things further, to remove your clothing and explore every inch of your body with his hands and mouth, but he forces himself to remain patient and wait for your signal that you actually want something more intimate.

"You know... I've always been afraid to show you how much I really care about you," he whispers into your ear, his voice barely audible over the sound of the city below them.

"Steve thinks you love me..." You say quietly, hoping to god that your idiot brother is right for once in his life.

Bucky freezes a little, feeling a mixture of relief and surprise wash over him. He's surprised at your boldness but so relieved that the truth is finally out there.

But he also knows you well enough to know that if he wants you to truly believe that he loves you, then he has to act quickly to prove it to you and make sure that you never doubt his feelings again.

"Yeah... I do love you, Doll. More than anything else in this world. And I'm sorry that I didn't say it sooner... But I was afraid to lose you." He admits quietly, as he takes your face in his hands.

"You really mean that?" You ask quietly, a mix of hope and uncertainty clear in your voice.

"I do." He says without hesitation while he looks at your beautiful face turned towards his. "And I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I care about you."

The smile that comes to your face is so bright that it feels to Bucky like the sun suddenly came up in the middle of the night.

"I know you already gave me a birthday gift," He says, referring to the jacket you gave him this morning. "But can I ask you for one more?"

You're definitely curious about what he wants so you nod. "Sure, what is it?"

"Can you give me a birthday kiss?" He asks quietly while brushing a strand of hair aways from your face and behind your ear.

You blush a little and can't help but smile because he wants a birthday kiss from you, not Dot or any other girl, and you nod slowly as you start leaning in.

Bucky meets you halfway and when your lips touch it feels like fireworks, your stomach filling with butterflies while he brings you closer to him while deepening the kiss.

After a few minutes you both pull away for air, breathing heavily while looking at each other. "Wow." Is all he says after a moment.

You giggle and bite your lip. "Happy birthday, Bucky." You say softly and give him a kiss on the cheek before settling back against him, your head on his chest as you look up at the stars.

Bucky wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and then relaxes while looking up too, more content than ever to finally have you in his arms.

[acid-ixx]

chapter five dialogue spoilers

— masterlist !

"you don't fucking understand jason!

— i don't need your help, or anyone else's. you have never been there for me! never been there for all the times i suffered because of your death! so don't even try to make a difference now!"

"— no way, did you dare scold me just now, jason. out of all the times i nearly got killed, you decided to save me by the time i accepted my death?! this isn't the first fucking time this happened to me and it wouldn't be the last."

"hell, the only first that happened this time was that one of you actually came to save me, so don't you fucking belittle me and call me impulsive and selfish when i can and have handled all this alone."

"jason... i don't want to be his favorite, i never want to be, fuck—!"

"i never wanted to be an athlete like dick, or as academically talented like you, or some crazed detective like tim, or as skilled as an assassin like damian! i don't even have the determination steph has or barbara's perseverance to continue fighting alongside all of you! i can't even reach cassandra's level of fighting, and i certainly don't have powers like duke!"

"— all of you guys are so fucking talented, and here i am, so pathetic for thinking i can reach the same level as you all when i can't!"

"i just can't, jason! so how could i have the damn audacity to desire being bruce's priority when each and every one of you are beyond my level?!"

"i never wanted to be bruce's favorite, jason! i just..."

"... i just wanted to be his child."

"i just want to be selfish for once... i want to see him the same way he looks at you back then, every damn time he stares at your grave, while i watch by the fucking windows, wishing it was me he looked at."

"i wanted him to look at me, and think of me as important as you, or even just a semblance of it..."

"god, i don't even want him to see me as a priority, i don't want him to see me and think i'm the best damn thing in the world, but i want him to stare and think, 'this is my child,' without any second thoughts, without any regards for my dirty fucking past."

"... we're not even siblings anymore, we're just strangers to each other—"

"that's not true, angel. don't even... don't even think of saying that..."

"why are you trying so hard to push us away?! push me away right after you.. you opened up?!"

"because we're not family anymore, goddamnit! care for me, care for me like you care for all those strangers getting mugged in the street! not as my brother—!"

"i am your brother, (name)!

and i care for you, more than you can ever fucking imagine, so don't... don't fucking push me away! not especially right after i almost lost you!"

a/n: hi guys, sorry for the random inactivity. i've been at an all time low with depression and that directly affected my motivation to write. lately, imposter syndrome alongside self-esteem issues did hinder me from commiting to writing events, and most especially this series. it's a very loved one, i know, for all the comments, thank you a lot for supporting me. but sometimes there're times i'm close to nearly deactivating this account. for everyone hoping for the next part; i don't know when, or how i'll be able to, but soon.

[wandanatswitch]

Hour of the Owl

Pairing: Dowager!Queen Alicent Hightower x Targaryen!Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst w/ happy ending

Summary: “Love can become both a sanctuary and a peril”

Warnings: NSFW +18 minors DNI, age gap (reader is aprox 18, Alicent is aprox 37), step-cest?, mentions of targcest, fingering? (reader receiving) oral (reader receiving), semi-public sex, mentions of infidelity (not between the main characters), religious shame and guilt, mention of suicidal thoughts, emotional dependency/obsession, mentions of homophobia, kinda? Toxic relationship, manipulation, I kinda wrote the reader from a BPD perspective so she could have some traits. Let me know if there's anything missing! NO DANCE OF DRAGONS AU! Note: English is not my first language! And this is my first time writing a fic so please let me know what you think <3 Also there is very few use of Y/N! 

Words: 2.9K

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“May I join you, Princess?” 

The oh so familiar voice echoes through the empty gardens of the red keep perturbs your quiet late night stroll.

“Of course, Your Grace…” You reply while looking at the bushes filled with different coloured roses. “Is something the matter?”

 You wished to deny her, you really did… but as always, you failed to do so, you just could not bring yourself to say no to her, nor to reject her presence, the one that made you feel that stupid agonising passion that made you wish it was possible that two people were one. You wanted to be binded to her. You wanted to lay down under the same tree where you kiss her so desperately, and merge with her so you could never be separated from one another ever again.

She approaches ever so carefully, moving her hand slightly forward, making your hands faintly touch… An innocent mistake is what she would answer if you reproach her.

“Not at all” She gently caresses the edge of the rose petals in front of you. “I simply wished to know if you have received any letter from my son” A lie. “I know i have not received one since he left” Another lie. You knew for a fact that Aemond had written to the Dowager Queen, he told you himself in the only letter he had written to you, and you had heard Princess Helaena trying and failing to tell Aegon about what their brother had written to their mother… “Mother said he was vague , but that he was well… he wrote that he is not bored as he expected to be and that he is actually having a good time…” is what you heard Helaena say, but you stopped listening when Aegon groaned at his sister-wife’s words.

“What is your need to lie to me, Your Grace?” You did not look up from the flowers, you did not dare. “You always lie, at this point i find myself believing that lying is the only thing you know how to do”

That gained you a sigh from her “You are right, I apologize…” she whispers “I just wanted to be alone with you—”

“Please, do not say anything else and just leave” you cut her off in a hostile tone but whispered voice “You said it yourself, we are sinful. This is a sin. We are wrong and the Gods will punish us if we do not stop whatever twisted and vile-” she cut you off when she placed her hand on your cheek, caressing it gently with her thumb.

“I know, my darling but—” she tries to plead, but her words get cut off again. You step back, causing her hand to drop back to her side. “You always do this!” you whisper loudly “You always do this! And it is not fair that you get to treat me like a stupid toy that you only wish to hurt!” Tears are rolling down your face at this point, much to your dislike.

“I am so stupidly tired of this, and I simply cannot bear this anymore…” You closed your eyes and tried to be strong and take a deep breath, but it came out shaky and broken. “...I have two children, Alicent… What am I supposed to tell them when they see me cry in front of them because I just can’t take it anymore? That their grandmother's favorite pastime is to hurt me…? 

“Princess, you are speaking foolishly—” The Dowager Queen tries to say calmly, but once again, she finds her words being cut off.

“Am I?!” You are shouting at this point. The anger, the frustration, the pain, the hurt, everything, finally finding a way out. “Yes you are!” The older woman shouted, matching your tone. “My goal has never been to hurt you! Your pain is the last thing I would ever wish for! Ever!” “You are a liar! You have proven yourself to be—”

“I do not lie to hurt you, I lie so I do not lose you!” She starts to lower her voice, although her tone is still full of frustration. “I love you, you know that very well” “No you do not, if anything you despise me” The Targaryen princess tries to say firmly, but her voice wavers from the tears she has spilled “You would have to despise someone to hurt them like you have hurt me” You look at Alicent right in the eyes “Maybe is not me who you wish to hurt. Maybe you wish to hurt my mother and I am nothing more than a discardable piece to accomplish it.” Your breath quickens, your heart hurts and you feel like dying… you feel as if nothing matters anymore, and at this very moment you just wish to die. 

“You just cannot stand the fact that my mother is Queen, can you? And you are not only taking your frustrations out on me, but you are also trying to hurt her through me. That is what I am to you, right?”

“I will not allow you to say such idiotic, and simply untrue words” Alicent is angry. Angry at herself, angry at the Gods… but she is not angry at you, not fully at least. How can she blame you for thinking that? 

She should have been smarter about this whole relationship, the Hightower thought to herself. She should have never given into her sinful desires, but the want overpowered her… If she didn't know better, she would have thought that you were the reward the Gods had given her for enduring more than fifteen years of not only being Viserys' wife, but also a Queen… Turns out you were not her reward, but her damnation.

“I love you, Y/N” She states, her voice unwavering “I do. I love you more than i have ever loved anything before” The auburn haired woman lets out a tired sigh before walking closer to you. She lifts a hand to place at your waist out of pure habit, but she decides against it when she sees the anger and hurt still lingering in the younger girl's eyes. “I do not feel angry at the thought of Rhaenyra sitting on the throne, I promise you that. If anything, I am relieved… I do not have as much responsibility as I had before… And I do have more liberties too, the eyes of the court are not on me anymore, at least most of the time they are not… If Aegon had been crowned king, most of the responsibility still would have been thrown at me, besides I know he would have not been a good king…” Alicent fidgets with her hands as she continues “And the stupid anger i had for your mother, the foolish one sided fight i had with her for years… is over. I know the tension remains, but I promise you, Y/N, I do not hate her, nor do I wish for her downfall or to cause her pain. I wish her well in her reign.” The older woman’s hands grip the fabric of her dress in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay. “So no, you are not “a discardable piece”, Princess” The Princess does not know what to say, so she ultimately decides to sit at a nearby bench in complete silence. “My dear…” Alicent whispers to the younger woman. “I do not believe you.” The princess does not look up from the ground. “I do not believe a word of what you just said.” Alicent has to swallow a sob, but she cannot hold the tears any longer.

“...Why not?” The Hightower whispers as she tries to wipe her falling tears.

“Why…!?” You stand up from the bench and walk towards her, “Why do I not believe you, you ask?! Because like I said before, you have proven yourself to be a liar, Alicent!” The Princess looks up in an attempt to stop more tears to fall, but quickly realizes that it was a futile attempt to stop what she cannot control. “And because you have never once told me about what you just said. You never open up or tell me how you feel! So how am I supposed to believe you?!” The older woman tightens her lips before speaking up. “Alright. You want me to open up? i will.” Alicent steps closer to you and lifts both of her hands to place them on your waist, and this time she decides not to stop the action. “I wish I was born a man so that I could have you like your husband has you. I wish that I was a man so that loving you was not a sin, but I have slowly come to accept that I would gladly be damned to any of the seven hells if it means that I get to have you, to love you, or to even see your face every day. But I still wished that I was born a man… because it is not fair that my own son gets to have you but if I do as much as to touch your hand I will be considered a sinner by the Gods.” She sounds desperate… She looks desperate. 

“I wish I was a man, so I could grab you by your waist, and push you against a wall, and kiss you until you stopped breathing, and do it without fear” Her hands move to your hips. “….If I were a man, I would use you, I would spoil you, I would devour you, but above all I would love you without fear” Alicent’s grip tightens against your hips. “Oh, Princess… How I would love you… If only fate would have been kinder…”

You have stayed quiet up until this point, the words you are hearing have both made you feel like the most loved woman in the seven kingdoms, and the most doomed one at the same time. “...I do  not want you a man, I want you…” You whisper, but your voice does not lack certainty. “I want you as you are…”

Alicent’s eyes look at your own. She is looking at you with such love and tenderness… the kind that makes you melt and doubt if anyone has ever been loved like that before. “I know, sweetling…” The woman’s right hand moves to your tear stained cheek.

You look at Alicent with a pained expression “I love you” Your hand reaches her cheek as you lean forward for a kiss. You kiss her softly, trying to demonstrate with a kiss all the love you feel for her.

On the other hand, Alicent needs you. She needs to feel you, she needs to taste you, she needs to love you… So she deepens the kiss and squeezes your hips. You break the kiss, but not the distance. As you two look at each other, Alicent’s hands move up from your hips to your back. She wastes no time in starting to undo them with practiced ease. “Alicent—” She finishes unlacing your dress, making it loose on you. “Shhh my dear…  We will be fine…” The older woman utters before kneeling on the soft grass and extending her hand to you, a silent invitation.

As soon as you kneel, her hands are on you again, taking off your dress. You gently grab her face and pull her in for a hungry kiss, which makes her moan in your mouth. 

The princess’ hands are tangled in the Hightowers' hair, pulling her as close as possible, trying to become one with the woman that she loves oh so dearly.

As soon as your dress is out of the way, and you are only covered by your undergarments, Alicent’s mouth shifts to your collarbone, peppering kisses as she works on removing your undergarments. She was like a woman starved. She needs you, and you need her just as much. When your undergarments are not an obstacle anymore, her mouth reaches your breasts. She kisses the soft flesh with a mix of love and hurry, making your throat release sweet gasps and making your back arch.

Oh Gods, the sounds… They only fueled Alicent’s want more and more, and it did not help that your fingers had started to unlace her dress, making it each second more and more loose.

You needed that damned dress off of her, you needed to take it off of her just as she had taken yours off of you. You needed to feel her bare body against yours. You needed her in the way you have never needed anything else… In fact, you are sure that nobody else has ever experienced this kind of need and want.

Alicent continues worshipping your breasts as if they were deities themselves. Her tongue licks your nipple while her hand massages the other, and the moans that come out of your mouth are inevitable.

You finally manage to take the dress off of her, leaving her only in her undergarments… But still, that was more clothing that you wanted her in. “I think it is a little unfair that you have those on while I am almost completely bare, do you not think so?”

The older woman sits up a little bit, stopping her ministrations on your breasts. “You are right, princess… It is not at all fair” Right after she says those words, she removes the upper part of her undergarments, leaving her chest exposed to you. Your mouth finds itself immediately in her breasts… kissing, biting, licking…

A sweet moan falls from her lips , causing you to softly moan in return.

Alicent gently pushes you to lay on the grass, but not before putting your dress as a blanket for you to lay on, causing you to smile at her caring act. “I love you so much… I did not think it was possible to love this much…” You whisper to her, and those may be the truest words you have ever said.

“I love you too. More than anything” She lays down next to you, and instantly kisses you again while she runs her hands through your body. “You are all I need, and there is no such thing as something that I would not do for you, my sweetest girl”

Alicent’s hand reaches your hips and as soon as she grabs the hem of the bottom part of your undergarments, she slides them down your legs.

“We should go to my chambers… or yours, anyone could see us here—” Your words are stopped when two of her digits rub your clit in the way only she could “Oh Gods…!”

Any thought of getting caught had suddenly vanished from your mind, and instead, it was replaced by pleasure and Alicent’s name.

“No one will see us, my darling” She moves her fingers faster, while her other hand caresses your hair “It is the hour of the owl…” She stops her movements so she can position herself between your legs “And everyone knows that this pacific garden is yours, my love, no one will come, do not worry in vain” She reassures you once she is kneeled in between your legs. 

The only response you could give to her was a weak nod, but that quickly changed once her tongue made contact with your core, making you moan her name. 

Your hands made their way to Alicent’s hair, tangling themselves between the strands. The only thoughts you had were of Alicent, nothing more, nothing less. 

One of Alicent’s hands grips one of your thighs, while the other one travels up and towards your chest.

The Dowager Queen was lost on you. On your taste, on how you feel, on how you sound… This is everything she could ever want.

“Alicent…!” You moan loudly as your back arches, involuntarily searching for more. “Alicent I’m close…!”

The older woman's hand reaches for your own, stopping her movements on your breast , and instead intertwines her fingers with yours.

“Go ahead, my darling” Alicent says without moving away from your clit, softly moaning at the taste.

Your grip on your love’s hair tightens, and your eyes roll back. It felt as if you were on fire, and you never wanted it to end… You moan and gasp Alicent’s name as you reach your climax,  your hips bucking up towards your lover’s mouth to ride the last waves of pleasure.

Alicent crawls up and lays next to you… Her hand gently caresses your body as she places a sweet kiss on your lips, when she pulls away she takes her time to admire you… spent, panting, and underneath the moonlight. 

“...Run away with me…”

[bellarkeselection]

Halstead’s Favorite Duo

Anonymous request - Can you do a Jay Halstead x reader, where they are married and she is part of the K-9 unit? Maybe they called her in or something to help chase down a suspect.

My boots hit the ground as fast as I could to keep up with my first best friend for I wish I could say my whole life. Yet I have only known this dog since I joined the K-9 unit that works with the Chicago Police Department. My German shepherd dog ran forward on the heels of the man that was running from us. The man we were after was a drug cartel that they had been hunting for months. “Ryder! Attack.” I commanded him before he launched himself through the glass store window.

The guy we were chasing tried to run to the back of the store but he tripped over a shopping cart giving Ryder the opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Stepping over the broken window glass I draw my gun from my belt pointing it at the guy. “Y/n, Ryder! Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine, Jay. Ryder ain’t too bad at his job. Ryder, come here.” I smiled seeing my husband coming around the corner lowering his gun when he saw the situation.

Ryder snarled at the guy on the ground keeping his tail still when we were out in the field. Otherwise he would let it actually wag when he was happy. Jay bent down on a knee after putting his gun away, grabbing the guy off the floor and handcuffing him. “You’re under arrest for smuggling drugs across the border. Take him back to the station.” He handed him off to one of the other local officers.

“You did good, boy.” Dropping down on a knee in front of my dog he started moving his tail wagging it since it was just me and Jay alone with him. “So how much paperwork does this leave you with tonight. I can order take out if you want if you’ll be home later.”

He shakes his head walking back to one of the squad cars having me and Ryder following his heels like we did every morning when we all had to leave the apartment. “Hailey said she would take care of it. I actually had something else in mind.”

“Oh really. Care to share what you had in mind?” I smirked knowing that he wouldn’t give it up even if I asked the question but I did it anyway.

Jay sent me a glare. “It didn’t work on our first date and it still won’t work now.” I nudged him and he chuckled before Ryder barked signaling that he wanted into our conversation.

“That means he doesn’t want to be left out of whatever mystery thing you have planned. And you agreed to take me in every way that includes my doggy.” I responded to him.

Jay and I had gotten married a few years ago. I had just been promoted to chief of my unit. Vioet was the man to help me get it after he had seen my history with Ryder and the amount of cases we helped crack down compared to the other k-9 unit members. Jay opened the door letting my dog jump into the backseat shutting the door once he was in. We both got in the car and removed our bullet proof vests and he started the drive looking my way a few times. “Do you remember the day we met?”

“Of course I do. I got injured on an assignment and the doctors at the hospital your brother Will works at wouldn’t let Ryder inside my room. So he started losing it and breaking things. If it wasn’t for you I was sure Ryder would have bit Will’s leg.” I snorted running a hand down my face thinking back on that night.

Jay smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah but he and I have the same goal to protect you…and love you.”

“So where are we going exactly? I mean it’s kind of strange that you are asking about the day we met. We’re already married. What else could we possibly do?” I shifted in my seat bouncing up and down with the tension of waiting.

Jay didn’t stop the car for another few minutes, parking the car outside of a house that was painted a light blue on the outside and it had a gray roof. He let Ryder out of the backseat first before coming over to my side and helping me out. “The surprise is that this place is now ours.”

“Are you serious, Jay!” I gasped covering my mouth with my hands spinning around to face him since he was standing behind me.

He slipped the keys in my hands. “It’s our. I am not lying to you. I got it all set up a few weeks ago. That way we aren’t cramped in an apartment and this gives Ryder a space to run when he wants to.”

“I love you.” I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him slowly.

Ryder barks running towards the front door just as Jay wraps his arms around my waist tugging me closer to deepen the kiss until he breaks it not being able to hold in his chuckle. “I love you too…and Ryder seems to approve.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[lil13]

FEELINGS - j. champion

You and Jack met during the chemistry reads for Scream VI. It was obvious that, from the beginning, you two were close. Your personalities went well together and everyone saw your obvious chemistry. The chemistry really helped, seeing as your characters were love interests. As time went on, you began to see Jack differently and he the same. And maybe, unlike your characters, the two of you would have a happy ending.

•

Filming for Scream VI was slowly coming to an end. You heard someone say that you only had about 2 weeks of filming left before everything wrapped.

It was bittersweet.

Occasionally, you'd find yourself reminiscing about all of the friendships and memories you've made this summer. Something about your castmates just made the whole filming process all the more better. Especially since this was your first real project.

The directors were taking a chance with you, hiring a newcomer was a risky move. But needless to say, they believed they made the right choice. You were a phenomenal actor.

"Earth go, Y/N." Jasmine was waving her hand in front of your face, bringing your attention back to the 4 sitting around you.

You, Melissa, Jenna, Devyn, Liana, and Jenna all sat in a circle in the grass. A break had been announced while they worked out some kinks in a scene and they let you all just chill together.

"Hmm?"

Devyn reached over and squeezed your hand, smiling sweetly at you. "We're rating our castmates 'cause we're bored."

She was the sweetest, just like her character.

"And it's time to rate Mason, and I don't plan on rating him because he's like my brother and that's weird." Jasmine laughed, earning laughs from the group.

You shrugged, "7.5?"

Most nodded, except for Jenna who scoffed and called out the number 4. Her response only elicited a fit of laughter from the group. Jenna loved picking on Mason, it was one of her favorite pastimes.

"Oooh, i've got one." Melissa clapped her hands in excitement. "Y/N, rate Jack."

You swallowed harshly. Suddenly very thankful that the boys weren't around instead of being mopey like you had been before. You actually had been wishing that Jack... and Mason were there. But now that they'd asked that? Their absence was actually a blessing.

"3."

Jack was your best friend.

"Bullshit!" Liana yelled.

She was right, you'd lied straight through your teeth. You'd met Jack while doing chemistry reads months ago. Your characters played love interests so you'd gotten to meet the boy before the rest of the cast so the directors could ensure the two of you had believable chemistry.

"Um." you mumbled, you'd actually fallen for him as time passed.

When you got to set in June you thought the constant butterflies in your stomach were from being excited and nervous to film. It wasn't until a week or two later and you were grabbing lunch alone with Jack that you realized that the butterflies only showed up when you were in his presence.

Jenna playfully pushed you by the arm, "C'mon, tell us the real answer."

You hated how they knew about your real feelings. You had never admitted them, though. So, their knowledge was pure speculation at this point.

"10." you'd said it almost too quiet for them to hear.

But when they erupted in screams and Devyn tackled you in a hug, you knew they'd heard you.

"No one can tell him! He definitely only sees me as a friend and i'm not ruining the friendship." you instructed from your spot below Devyn.

They all agreed to not tell, but also told you that you were wrong. Apparently they knew that your feelings weren't 1 sided.

"Who likes who?"

You all froze.

It was the familiar voice of Jack that made your stomach drop. Devyn crawled off of you, helping you sit up. You couldn't bare to look at Jack. You were sure your cheeks were bright red and he'd know immediately.

"Chad likes Tara." Jenna blurted, attempting to get Jack off the topic.

The grass looked very interesting all of a sudden.

"Well, I knew that. That's boring." he scoffed.

You mentally cursed when he sat down next to you on the grass, his knee bumping with yours. It took everything in you to not look at him still. Jack was your best friend after all, his brown eyes always brightened your day.

"Jackson, wanna play our game?" Jasmine broke the silence.

Your eyes snapped to Jasmine's, she wouldn't.

You looked around the circle, realizing that all of the girls had smirks on their lips. They knew what Jasmine was up to.

"Sure?" he laughed nervously.

Jasmine rubbed her hands together, never looking back at you. "We're rating our castmates, so, rate Y/N."

"Easy, 10."

What?

You looked right at him as all of the girls went crazy. Did he say what you thought he did?

He wouldn't look at you though, his cheeks burning crimson. You couldn't tell the reason behind the blushing, though, sometimes Jack would blush when he had too much attention on him.

But it still made you sick that he wouldn't look at you.

"I don't feel good." you mumbled, jumping up and running off.

Jack was oblivious though.

While you were basically dry heaving in your trailer, he had texted and wished for you to feel better and to ask if you were still on for your movie night. You sighed, actually thankful that he didn't get the hint as to why Jasmine had asked or why you ran off and simply texted a "thank you, and yes."

The Jasmine texted, checking on you and apologizing for asking Jack. Even adding the disclaimer about how at least he thought you were a 10. You forgave her and told here there were no hard feelings. It was just a simple game.

A few hours later and you had all returned to your apartments for the night.

You were freshly showered with your hair in two braids down your back, body clad in pajamas. Your pajamas consisted of a pair of boy's boxers and a tshirt Jack had given you of his. The two of you were at his apartment one night and you saw an avatar shirt he had on the arm of his couch and you had geeked out over it. In that moment, Jack knew he had to give it to you.

The shirt had brought you more joy than it probably ever would him, and he'd definitely smile every time he saw you in it.

"Knock, knock!" Jack called out as he walked in using the key you'd given him in case you lost yours — well that and you didn't want to have to let him in every time he came over.

He held up a bag of takeout, "I still got the tacos in case you were hungry. Feeling better?"

You nodded, walking over and taking the bag from his hand, leading him to the kitchen.

"I don't know what happened." you lied, taking the containers out of the bag. "But i'm much better now."

The two of your stood in the kitchen eating your tacos. For some reason, every time Jack came over he'd bring tacos from this place you two had found at the beginning of filming. You'd stand around in the kitchen and chow done, catching up on any time spent apart before eventually finishing and going to watch your movie of choice.

"Do you mind if we watch in my room? I'm exhausted." you sold your story by yawning.

You were telling the truth, you were absolutely wiped today. Jack shrugged, lunging toward you and picked you up. You let out a scream of surprise as he carried you, walking you back to your bedroom.

He carefully sat you down on the covers and let you crawl into your spot while he took his shoes off. Without hesitation, he crawled in next to you, propping himself against the headrest.

Your heart started beating closer at your proximity. You tried to ignore it be cueing up the movie, Scream (2022) tonight. The two of you had been on a Scream kick lately.

"This one's gonna be weird to watch since we know these weirdos in real life." Jack chuckled, getting more comfortable, which only brought him closer to you.

Was that on purpose?

You couldn't tell.

As the movie went on, you suddenly became super aware of how close the two of you were sitting. Your head was only inches from Jack's shoulder, so you gave in, letting your head fall onto him.

You'd done this countless times before, but this time felt different. You could've sworn you heard Jack breathe in sharply.

A couple minutes passed before you felt something touching your hand under the covers. You focused for a second before realizing that Jack was tapping the back of your hand with his fingers. Without thinking, you flipped your hand so your palm was up, Jack quickly intertwining his fingers with yours now.

You'd never been more thankful that it was dark, because he wouldn't be able to see how red your cheeks were now.

You got more comfortable, enjoying both the movie and Jack rubbing the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb. Once again, he'd held your hand before, but this time felt different.

Your mind was going crazy and so were all the butterflies in your stomach. Oh what this boy did to you.

You'd met him about a month after you had turned 17, about a week before Christmas. His birthday about a month prior to that. The two of you had bonded over being "late 2004 babies" and the rest of your friendship was history.

But what if it changes tonight?

Jack squeezed your hand.

You lifted your head, looking to him, your hands staying connected. Jack had a different look on his face, once that you'd only ever seen when he was playing Ethan and he was looking at you. This was a look you'd seen Jack portray when looking at his girlfriend.

But this time the look felt entirely genuine.

"J?" you questioned quietly when you noticed his eyes flickering to different places around your face, one of them being your lips.

It was like you were nervous.

Almost questioning if this was real.

Jack didn't say anything, instead he ducked his head and connected his lips with yours. You gasped slightly, not expecting his abruptness.

But you didn't hesitate to kiss back.

Sure, you'd kissed before while acting, but this right here? This was real. This was Jack and Y/N. Not Ethan and Y/C/N.

Your free hand held the back of his neck, fingers fiddling with the curls at the nape of his neck. Jack smiled into the kiss and you swore you almost lost all composure.

How could he be so cute?

His hand broke free of yours and you faltered for a second. Only regaining your composure when you felt his hands grips your hips to pull you on top of him. You forgot how strong he was.

Jack's hands stayed on your hips while your hand not on the back of his neck decided to rest on his chest. You hadn't realize how toned he was and you could definitely feel the muscle under his tshirt.

He pulled away, letting you sit up slightly as you both goofily smiled at each other. "I'm assuming this is okay since you so willing let me pull you onto my lap?" Jack raised an eyebrow, the slightest smirk playing on his lips.

You couldn't help but peck his lips, heart fluttering when you saw his smirk falter into a pout when you pulled away so quickly.

"I mean, we both rated each other 10s earlier and i'm pretty sure i've liked you for a couple months now."

He seemed proud of himself, the cutest smile now on his lips. "Good, good. Glad I didn't read the signs wrong and ruin the friendship."

"That'd be awful."

You hand slid around from the back of his neck and up to his cheek, your thumb rubbing over his cheekbone. You couldn't help but admire him.

You've done that time and time again. But never this close or with these feelings.

He was looking at you the same way. His hands had found their way underneath your shirt, sitting on your bare waist and thumbs caressing the soft skin underneath them.

"Kiss me again, your lips are addicting." he mumbled, his voice quiet from being mesmerized by the situation he'd found himself in.

You happily obliged.

You quickly leaned in and connected your lips, both of you moving together in sync. It was like your lips were created to be together.

Jack's hands stayed put, never once wandering. And same for you. The two of you were content with doing exactly what you were doing. Maybe the rest will come a different day.

"Stay over tonight?" you mumbled against his lips.

You felt him nod, "I'd like that."

You were ecstatic. The thought of falling asleep in Jack's arms had you beyond excited. He always made you feel safe, so you had a feeling you'd sleep like a baby tonight.

"Good, good." You let a finger lightly trace his jawline, down his neck, down his chest, and then stopping when you left your hand to rest in his lap.

Jack caught you hand, breaking the kiss and looking you dead in the eye, his eyes wider than usual. "I'm going to need you to not do that again, because i'm really trying to be respectful and only kiss you tonight and that's not helping."

Your cheeks burned red, "Oh." You patted his chest, "Then let's stop this for now and finish the movie."

You crawled off of him, Jack saying something about how that was a good idea before kissing you quickly once more. You tucked your body into his once more, except now your head was rested on his chest and his arm fell lazily around your body.

You could get used to this.

[not-neverland06]

hello, I was wondering if you could do a female reader x Vincent Sinclair. Where the reader is very needy. Like she constantly just wants to be around him. They don't have to be talking just being around him is fine. If you don't write for house of wax that's fine. If you do this thank you. Have a good day!

Thank you for the request, I hope you like it. As I’m posting this I realized I kind of made the reader gender neutral because I never actually used pronouns. 🤍 gn!reader

You’re overwhelming, to say the least.

And that’s being kind. 

Vincent was his mother’s favorite, but even she had to cover his face. She might have favored him over Bo, but she didn’t love him, not the way a mother should. 

At least, that’s what you told him. 

Vincent was never sure if he should believe you or not. Bo had instilled in him that their mother was a saint. It was hard to lose that idealized image of her and replace it with the one you presented. But with the way you clung to him, hovered around him without a word, he started to wonder if maybe you had a point. 

Growing up, he wasn’t allowed to take the mask off. If he had to eat, his parent’s didn’t watch. He didn't know if it’s because he was so grotesque to them or because they couldn’t stand to see their failure. His mother was an artist, his father a doctor, yet somehow, they had created him. Formed him into this ugly and deformed creature. 

He struggled to reconcile with the fact that, maybe, someone truly could love him. He struggled with coming to terms that someone as kind as you, could love him. Most days he didn’t believe you. He would watch you carefully while you sat by his side. 

He waited for the inevitable, a look of disgust, a flinch when he came near. It never happened. He figured you were biding your time, sweetening him up and getting him to trust you before you made your escape. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the victims had done that to him. 

He almost wished he was right, that you were just a liar. He waited for you to slip up so he’d have a reason to keep you here forever in Ambrose. But you never did. Each day, you grew bolder, your presence nearly suffocated him. 

You don’t always touch him, you rarely ever talk. Your days are simply spent lingering around him, watching him work or reading while he sculpts. It’s odd, going from so many years on his own in his workshop to suddenly having a constant presence. 

He wonders why you don’t just go with Bo. He was the more handsome twin, more charming and funny. He could talk, he could walk around without a mask and be comfortable with himself. There was a clear language barrier between you and Vincent. 

His sign language was choppy at best because he’d had to learn it on his own. Bo and Lester learned some for him, but the family was pretty against it. You struggled to decipher his odd language but you still tried. He didn’t understand the effort. There was a “better” brother to choose from and, still, you stuck with him. 

Just as he looks over at you, you move from your spot by his desk. His fingers loosen around the tools in his hand while he watches you. You stretch, back bowing and a low groan leaving you as you finally move for the first time all day. You shoot him a smile before heading up the stairs out of his workshop. 

He stills and listens to the way your footsteps echo across the floorboards above him. You’re in the living room, you give a muffled greeting to Jonesy before heading towards the kitchen. His hands fidget restlessly with his tools but he can’t bring himself to get back to work. 

He hates when you go upstairs without him. He’s worried that one day he’ll hear the door open and close and he won't be able to get upstairs in time to get you back. He worries that he’ll hear Bo and you together upstairs, either in a fight or doing something worse. 

But you always come back. You’re never away from him for longer than you need to be. Your footsteps rush back towards the stairs and he feels some of the tension leave him. 

When you come back downstairs, a plate of food for you both, he pulls your chair closer to him. A silent invitation to stay close, one you eagerly accept. You sit beside him, leaning over his shoulder, and admire the sketches splayed out across his desk. 

You reach out, before he can stop you, and tug at the corner of one, pulling it out from under the others. Your eyes rove over the drawing of yourself, one of you sleeping on the couch he now keeps down here for you. You smile and glance up at him. When you lean forward and press a kiss against his masked cheek he wonders if maybe he needs you around just as much as you need him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the movie House of Wax, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.