#this is a dumb post i was going somewhere with it but then i lost the plot

[glittergroovy]

.

[marklikely]

lbr he (and i) would get a lot of glee from seeing marvel and sony and any company they partnered with gain absolutely 0 dollars in merch sales from one of the most popular characters in their movie because his fans opted to cobble together their own merch or commission directly from artists

put that hot topic spider punk merch down immediately and get out your diy supplies or i swear to god

[st4rbwrry]

𝒞𝑅𝒜𝒵𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐸.

⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: sukuna can’t accept that you’ve moved on. thinks you just need some dick to remind you where home is. ;)

warnings 𑄽𑄺 2.3k. fem reader, lowercase intended, she/her pronouns, black coded. dilf!sukuna, fluff + smut duh, jealousy, sukuna's a cheater n we're dumb, daddy kink, body worship, choking, body worship, dry humping if you squint, consensual coercion, cum play, toxic relationship, sneaky sex, minors aren't welcomed!

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎'𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑠 .ᐟ ꒱; this is very old, originally a self ship but i just wanted to post it bc i have a lot of old fics sitting in the drafts etc.

sukuna clenches his jaw whenever he notices the new love interest in your life, nearly causing a fight one day you threw a cookout for your family and the man you're currently 'dating' is playing football with your daughter, seeing the stranger pick her up and spin her around when she scores a touchdown. it boils his blood to see your daughter smile at someone who isn't her father. sukuna awaits at the doorstep of his home, or 'ours' as he likes to call it, still delusional about your separation, claiming it's a break when it wasn't . . hands tucked into his dark gray sweatpants pockets with a smile on his usually stern face as he watches your tiny daughter run to him with giggles and bratz dolls in her hands. sukuna crouches low to grab her with a purposely exaggerated grunt, commenting on how big she's getting with a laugh.

you slam the door to your car, retrieving your daughter's duffel bag filled with things she needed for the weekend at daddy's. sukuna holds his child at his hip. you smile at her as she constantly pokes at his cheek to grab his lost attention. he couldn't keep his eyes off you. looking you up down with that all too familiar glint in his eyes. you raise your brow, glaring down at yourself dressed in a black maxi skirt that touches your ankles and a white lace top, feet in black sandals.

"what?"

"going somewhere?" he questions with authority.

"my house and back. i can't look nice?"

"you look good," you ignore the way he licks his pink lips, your daughter tapping his shoulder for the millionth time, the four-year-old always wanting to be the star of the show.

"daddy, can we watch bratz fashion ‘ixies with mommy?!" the little girl screeches excitedly.

"mommy has to go, baby," you drain the light from her face, the child frowning. sukuna eyes you.

"why?" they say periodically. you stare him down with annoyance. now she's gonna question me. before you can even speak, she's at it again.

"but we haven't watched it in months," she whines. "we watch it every day with all three of us."

sukuna sighs, rubbing her back. "it's okay, honey. me and you can just—"

"i'll stay," you cut him off immediately, not fond of seeing your daughter cry. his puppy dog act was irritating. he grins mischievously.

your daughter cheers and you lean forward to pinch her chubby cheeks, speed walking to your car to pull into the driveway before entering the familiar home, feeling somewhat vacant. the vibe is off, but a little nostalgic. you haven't stepped foot into this place in months, unable to, the idea bringing back too many unwanted memories. your divorce wasn't pretty; finding sukuna messing with another woman when you searched through his phone one day to find the messages, his excuses replaying in your head, all bullshit.

she was just one night. one night over six years? they were high-school sweethearts, and he tore that apart for a one-time fling. didn't make sense, never will. it's awkward when you stand in the kitchen you used to cook your happy family meals every day to see him make your daughter lunch for her movie, combing at her curly hair with your fingers as she went on about how she ate dyed eggs for green eggs and ham day at school. the movie was the same as usual, both of you sitting adjacent to her as she ate her lunch and enjoyed the film, falling asleep on sukuna's shoulder thirty minutes in.

school must've taken it out of her. sukuna stretches his arms, breathing out a 'finally' which makes you laugh, standing along with him as he carries her and you shut off the tv, checking a text from the man you're currently fooling around with, nothing serious. just experimenting the dating life again.

you home today? i wanna see you.

you sigh, dropping your shoulders tiredly. you weren't in the mood to see him. he was a funny guy, enjoyable to be around, and made your daughter laugh . . .but he's obscenely clingy. you liked your space, and he didn't know the meaning of it. on top of that, the sex was mediocre. nothing compared to how sukuna fucked me. you dissociated with the world momentarily, chewing on your lip as flashbacks hit, zoning out the sound of sukuna's heavy steps approaching.

"she's tucked in."

your eyes lock onto the veins bulging out of his arms, the white tee he wore hugging his muscles, and the platinum chain swinging around his neck making your face hot. dammit, stop. your stare lingers longer than you expect, sukuna lowering his face to catch your attention with a smirk.

"hello? you good?"

"yeah, sorry," you clear your throat.

"check me out all you want baby, it's still yours."

"sukuna," you roll your eyes, locking your phone and finding your car keys, needing to be as far away from him as possible before you do something you regret.

"what? i'm joking," he furrows his brows when you begin strutting towards the front door, mumbling about how your daughter's ballet recitals on sunday and not to forget to monitor her junk food intake. his hand clasps around your wrist to stop you.

"stay. i wanna talk to you."

"there's nothing to talk about."

"are you dating him?" he's straightforward, watching the muscle in his jaw clench.

"that's none of your business."

"i have a right to know who's around my daughter. yes or no? or are you just fuckin' him?"

"why?" you yank your arm away, getting in his face, barely with your height. "does it hurt your feelings? well, guess karmas a bitch."

sukuna chuckles darkly, raising his arm to tug at his bi-colored hair with frustration. "man, you're still on that shit."

you raise your brow with fury. he's shitting me. "on that . . . are you fucking serious? you tellin' me i don't have a reason to say fuck you for cheating on me?"

"all she did was suck my dick, you're acting like i was in her shit," he rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulder with zero care in the world. "i've apologized a million times. it was one stupid night where we were at each other's throats and she just so happened to be around . . so."

"you know what." you scoff, not having time for this stupid shit. men always have bullshit excuses when trying to justify cheating. you didn't care if he kissed the bitch, cheating is cheating. you managed to bypass him, walking around the couch until he was back in your face fast once again.

you clenched your keys in your fists, ready to claw at his face with them. "what do you want?"

it's silent for a moment, the hard stare he has on you makes you feel small, folding your arms over your midsection, waiting for his response.

"i need some pussy," he whispers gravelly, slowly licking his lips and grabbing at your waist. you swallow, trying to ignore the sudden throbbing at your clit. chill out.

"text your other bitch. i'm sure she'll give it to you."

"only your sweet fuckin' pussy," now his hands are smoothing to your backside, smacking his heavy, veiny palm on your ass to draw you closer, squeezing the flesh between his long fingers. you gasp, eyes wide as you feel the outline of his dick against your stomach. his fingers are dangerously close to your pussy. "daddy misses it so much."

you inhale, shifting to try your best and break from his barricade, shoving him away which barely makes him stumble. "i'm leaving."

thinking this is your final attempt at actually leaving, that relief gets knocked down the instant his hand grabs the back of your neck and brings you back to him, his mouth pressed to the side of your neck where he breathes and kisses wetly. you freeze, the ache below never subsiding in his hold. sukuna's lifting your skirt before another word falls from your pretty little mouth, shoving his hand into your matching white lace, smirking from the ocean flowing on his thick fingers.

"you need some dick, don't you?" he whispers hotly behind your earlobe, rushing his tongue there at the same time he circles your clit, falling back into his warm chest, dropping your keys altogether. "he not hitting it right? doesn't do it like me, does he?"

shamelessly, you nod your head in agreement, giving up because you know he's right and this is what you need. you know he can give you things no other man could. it hasn't been the same ever since. any man you've been with aside from him hasn't met up to those standards. sukuna raised your pussy to only come back to him. trained to accommodate him. cum from him. fuck him. for any other man to take possession of what he crafted would be fucking fowl.

"you miss me?" sukuna hums, walking you both towards the black couch in the living room you moved too far away from your previous escape. your knees are dented into the seat, arms thrown over the back as sukuna groans low in his throat, pupils blown with lust as he tugs your panties to sit at the middle of your thighs. he presses his clothed cock to you, grinding slowly to make you feel it, let you know how much he misses you more. "you miss daddy, baby?"

you keen, face buried into your forearms shyly, rocking back onto him, feeling yourself soak his pants. sukuna hisses and smacks your ass again, pussy clenching from the attack. you whine. "yes. miss you."

"daddy misses you too," he's swift with his actions, already tugging at his dick leaking absurd amounts of precum, circling the angry red tip on your entrance before sinking in only halfway, wanting you to remember how to take him. you moan quietly, biting at your arm and taking lead by pushing back onto him, only to have sukuna retract his hips.

"don't be greedy, you'll hurt yourself." it echoes in your head when he says this, smiling cutely, loving that he cared, unlike other men. and he's kind of right. he's perfectly thick, long to the point where it surpasses his belly button. it was always hard for you to fully wrap your hand around it, towering your face whenever he stood over you, veins decorating up the underside. he draws his hips back, carefully driving into you, rolling his waist effortlessly to make you savor every ridge of his cock.

"doesn't it feel so fuckin' good?" he asks with his lip tucked between his teeth, rolling his eyes back once he starts it up, hooking you by your handles and yanking you back as he fucks you, fascinated by the jelly-like bounce your ass makes as you throw it back.

his wife was always one to never hold back her sounds, whimpering and moaning to your hearts delight. sukuna has your back arched with his other palm, reaching behind yourself to clutch at his veiny forearm, the two of you locking eyes as you glare up at him to see him slowly losing it. so much pent-up sexual frustration from not having you for months. not being able to touch another woman since so it pisses him off to know you could easily fuck another man without feeling the same. he's getting mad just thinking about it, clenching his jaw tight as he fucked you harder, deeper. you're clawing at his arm and crying his name, sukuna coming to his senses momentarily, forgetting they had a daughter who's asleep upstairs.

he moves your hand away, entwining both his large palms over your mouth and pulling you back to his chest where your head rests, sukuna standing straight as your back dips even more, cursing as your eyes switch white and you sing into his hands shielding the sweet symphonic tones.

"you forgive me?" he breathes shakily on your forehead, ruts becoming sloppy when that familiar heat twitches in his gut. this he could excuse; cumming too fast just to brush off the burning arousal for you. he'd savor you later on when it truly mattered. he'd make love to you to prove that he still loves you, that he's different now, that he'd never fuck up a good thing again. right now, he just wanted to fuck you so you know he's not letting you leave anytime soon.

your brown eyes are slanted softly, whines and delicate nods of your head are what takes him there, dropping his hands from your mouth, choking you lightly as he mashed his mouth onto yours, moaning with you as you tremble and orgasm. he stays inside you a little longer, fearing that warmth would dissipate if he stayed out too long. sukuna swallows, catching his breath and darting his attention to the way his cum flows out of you after you fall forward, taking his index and middle finger to collect it and shove it back inside. you laugh at him with a silent 'fuck off' and smack his hand away. he grins happily, massaging your backside adoringly. this isn't a pass that you're going back to him. but having you in his presence as of now was a start he could be satisfied with.

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[emmyrosee]

suna and 11? CONGRATS EMMY!!!!

THANK YOU ANGEL FACE 🥹🩷

anonymous said 11. Suna and maybe u can tie it with ur recent post and possibly make them break up??? ❤️

11 with Suna… Argument 💔

There’s a deep rooted insecurity suna rintaro holds.

It’s not one he talks about often, nor do you bring it up, because it’s dumb, it’s a stupid little thing that you both know doesn’t make a difference in your relationship, yet Rintaro always finds himself harping and beating himself up over it.

Right now is no exception, as you stand across from him with your hands scrubbing your face, clearly exhausted by the fight.

“I don’t think of Osamu like that!”

“You sure had a hell of a time showing it!”

You had a crush on Osamu first.

Way back when rintaro wasn’t even into you, he couldn’t have known you from some random soul, you had feelings for osamu, but you never acted on them because you assumed he never liked you back- not to mention his insane fan girls. You kept your distance until you moved on; only to meet Rintaro in college, recognizing each other about three weeks in, where your feelings for him started to bloom.

You’d let it slip to him once when recounting high school memories how you fell hard for the dark haired twin, and while yes, it made rintaro tense up, you assured him it was over. You were done with him.

Yet every time you hang out with the group, Rintaro feels that same jealousy creep up his spine.

“God, when will it click for you that I love you!” You cry, desperate for him to hear you. “You! Only you! For five years Rintaro, it’s only ever been you!”

“Don’t act like you still don’t-“

“I DONT!” You bark. “I don’t! Whatever you’re about to say, I. Don’t. Because I do, with you!”

He feels sick to his stomach at this point, your sharp words to him only translating as a defense against his words, desperate to keep something hidden.

Not as a genuine frustration.

“I think you should go be with Osamu,” he snarls. “Since your so comfortable getting him drinks and putting your hands on him-“

“I wasn’t making out with the kid, I was patting his back after a joke!”

“-and maybe you should be with him since he’s just soo funny-“

“MAYBE I WILL!” You shriek.

The plates in the kitchen settle and the doors creak softly at the force of your yells, and your eyes glimmer with remorse but your face harbors exhaustion.

“…what?” He croaks.

“Maybe I should go be with literally anyone else,” you choke. “Since you think I’m flirting with anyone and everyone in the goddamned circle-“

“Wait- no, I just-“

“I don’t care what you do,” you whimper. “I’m sick of your jealousy. I’m sick of your hatred of my friendship with some kid who couldn’t give a fuck about me- you literally picked up the pieces of me he shattered, yet you still think there’s a chance I could love him?” You scoff, “you’re ridiculous.”

He sobers up as you throw your arms out in defeat, “I’m so… tired, of the accusations, Rintaro. I’ve given you five years of unconditional love and gratitude. And all you can boil me down to is someone who had a crush in high school?”

“I’m just so worried to lose you,” he says, voice breaking.

“Yeah? Well, you’ve lost me.” You take a step back and gnaw on your lip, “I’m going to go. Think long and thorough about this. But just know, I’ll always love you. Even if you’ve never trusted me.”

“No, no, no, please, don’t leave-“

“I’ll talk to you later…. Okay?”

He’s never going to hear from you again. This, he knows.

The door closes, and he wipes his tearful eyes with the back of his head, slipping out his phone to look at your happy smiling face again, one he took off the face of the earth with his jealousy.

There’s a black screen that faces back to him. It won’t turn on. He groans and hucks the thing across the room, hearing it clang somewhere far enough away.

He’ll deal with it in the morning. For now, he’s got some wallowing to plan out.

[megalony]

I Need Help

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine I've had finished for a while now and really need to post. I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: During the night when one of their kids isn't well, Eddie gets up to look after her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie kicked off his shoes in the hall and tossed his keys in the dish, raking his fingers through his hair as he headed down the hall. He was about to head into the kitchen until something caught his eye in the living room and he changed direction, steering towards the right instead.

The tiredness washed away like the tide going out when he took a look around. The tv was playing a Thomas the Tank Engine cartoon, the curtains were drawn and a few candles were lit around the living room, something that was a regular sight almost every evening when the sun went down.

But it was the sofa that drew Eddie's attention.

All three of his boys, huddled together on the verge of falling asleep. Chris was tucked up in the left corner with a blanket draped over his lap. He had Nate next to him in the middle with his head on Chris's shoulder, and beside him was Joey who could barely keep his eyes open.

"What are you lot doing up?" His eyes drifted to Chris who knew he was still allowed to be up since he was the eldest.

He advanced over to them and perched down on the end of the sofa beside Joey, watching him liven up almost immediately when his dad sat down next to him.

A cheeky grin spread across Joey's lips and he scrambled to climb onto Eddie's lap and huddle up against his chest, whining quietly until Eddie wrapped his arms around him in a hug. Eddie leaned his head down and kissed the top of his boy's head and he grinned, tightening his arms around Joey and gently swaying him from side to side.

And of course, feeling left out, Nate wriggled around until he could worm his way under Eddie's right arm and tuck into his chest too. He curled his arms around Eddie's neck and kissed his cheek.

Both four year olds looked like they were ready for bed which made Eddie wonder why they were still awake. He had been expecting only Chris to be awake when he came home.

"Hi daddy."

"Hi buddy, why aren't you two in bed?" He slouched back into the sofa until his knees bumped into the coffee table and he was almost getting lost in the sofa cushions. The boys both wriggled around until they were planted down on his chest with Nate's head on his shoulder and Joey curled up on his chest, both hands clutching his shirt.

He began smoothing his hands up and down their backs while he tilted his head back and strained his ears to try and listen to the sounds in the rest of the house. He couldn't hear the girls. If the boys were awake then chances were that Grace was up too and since Eddie couldn't see his third triplet anywhere, he figured she had to be somewhere with (Y/n).

"Where's Gracie?" He murmured softly against the top of Nate's head, but neither of them seemed to be in a talking mood. They were tired, they probably wanted to head to bed and go to sleep.

He tilted his head to look over at Chris who also looked tired, but was doing his best to stay awake to finish the cartoon he was watching.

"She was sick, mum took her for a wash."

Eddie's lips formed into a thin line and he nodded. Out of all the kids, Grace was the one who got sick the most. When the triplets had been born, she had been the smallest, weighing less than four pounds. Whenever there was a cold or an infection going round, Grace always managed to catch it and she had a hard time getting rid of them, having a weakened immune system. The triplets had been born premature, but both boys had faired a lot better and got back to health faster than Grace.

"Let's get you two in bed, hm?" With a deep breath, Eddie pushed forward from his heels to his toes and got to his feet, one of the boys in each arm.

Nate tightened his arms around Eddie's neck and pulled his knees up into his stomach to be smaller and easier to carry. Whereas Joe stayed wrapped up against Eddie's chest, half asleep already with his eyes closed.

Eddie juggled them both in his arms, more than used to carrying them all around. The triplets loved for Eddie to carry them all at the same time, even now that they were getting big since they were now four. And he strived to keep up and continue carrying them whenever they asked. It didn't matter how old they got, he still thought of them as his little babies.

He leaned down so he could kiss the top of Chris's head who grinned, burrowing his head back into the cushion behind him.

"Can I watch tv in your room?" Chris asked quietly, to which Eddie nodded and let him go ahead down the corridor first.

Turning to the side, Eddie nudged the triplets' door with his hip and headed in. The covers on their respective beds were askew, the curtains were closed and the night light was on. They must have either gone to bed or had been in the process when Grace was sick.

"Okay," He murmured quietly, easing Joey down first because he was practically asleep.

Once Nate was on his bed, Eddie tucked Joey in and moved a few of the teddies and toys from the bed. Joey liked to try and sleep with every toy he owned until there was no room for him in the bed. Numerous times Eddie had found him with bruises from lying on his toy trucks that he snook into bed with him.

With a kiss to his head, he moved to Nate who reached up and latched his hands around Eddie's arm when Eddie leaned to kiss his head.

"You stay, 'til we sleep?"

"Sure, buddy." Eddie kissed his temple again and brushed his thumb across Nate's cheek who snuggled down into the covers, but he didn't close his eyes. He kept a watchful eye on Eddie, making sure his dad wasn't about to leave the room and leave them alone.

He watched with intrigue as Eddie moved over to Grace's bed, but once he realised what Eddie was doing, Nate allowed himself to close his eyes. Knowing he could still hear Eddie pottering around the room.

Grace had clearly thrown up on the covers because (Y/n) had stripped the bed before she vacated the boys to sit with Chris while she sorted Grace out. So Eddie busied himself remaking the bed and changing the duvet cover. While the boys liked to have matching bedding, Grace was happier with Disney bedding with bright colours.

Just as he finished switching the pillow cases around, Eddie looked to the right when he heard soft footsteps.

A tender smile flooded (Y/n)'s face when she realised Eddie had already gotten the boys into bed. She leaned her cheek on top of Grace's head as her daughter snuggled down against her chest, her whimpers now ceased to quiet murmurs.

"Hi babygirl, you feeling better?" Eddie held his hands out when Grace seemed to become animated and she wriggled around immediately to try and get to Eddie.

Her arms looped around his neck and her face tucked down against the collar of his shirt so that Eddie could feel her damp hair clinging to his cheek and her lips kissing his neck. He smoothed his hand up and down her back and kissed her wet hair before he carefully sat down on the bed and tried to lay her down.

"Been sick." She muttered somewhat defeatedly while her arms stayed deadlocked around Eddie's neck. She didn't seem to want to let go until (Y/n) held out her teddy bear to her as an exchange.

"I can tell," Eddie responded quietly before he kissed her temple when her arms finally unravelled from his neck. "Try and get some sleep, I'll come back in to check on you soon, okay?"

Once she was curled up in a ball with her teddy pinned tightly to her chest, Eddie got up and followed (Y/n) out the room. He left the door ajar slightly just in case any of them needed anything or Grace cried out that she was going to be sick again.

A grin worked its way onto (Y/n)'s face when she felt Eddie's arms swoop in around her waist, reeling her into his chest like a fish on a hook. His lips attached to the side of her neck and he swayed them from side to side. He felt (Y/n)'s hands move down to hold his wrists and she leaned her head back on his shoulder, allowing her to pepper a few soft kisses against his temple.

"Did you have a good day?"

"Interesting, to say the least, and I don't think it's over yet." He had a funny feeling that Grace was going to keep them up throughout the night, no that he could blame her in the slightest. If she wasn't well, Eddie was going to be checking on her during the night and probably getting up to settle her down when she woke up.

But he was hoping she got a few hours sleep for now, it would make her feel better and it would let Eddie have a bit of time with (Y/n) and Chris before the night was conscripted to running in and out of the triplets' room.

***

A groan tumbled past Eddie's lips when he heard the bedroom door close for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. His had felt heavy when he lifted it from the pillow and looked towards the doorway, although he couldn't see properly now the light of the hallway had been shut out.

His eyes followed (Y/n) through the darkness as she slowly trudged towards the bed that looked like heaven to her weary bones.

Her legs felt like jelly and her head was swimming so deep that the room was spinning on its axis around her. She didn't know what time it was, it had to be some time past midnight but before four because she could see the blackened sky through the gap in the curtains.

This was the third time tonight that Grace had woken up crying and although she had originally been whimpering out for Eddie, he had been asleep and (Y/n) didn't want to wake him. He had settled her to bed and been back to calm her down around midnight, it wouldn't be fair for (Y/n) to wake him up and make him calm their daughter down, again.

The moment her hands reached out for the bed, (Y/n)'s eyes fell closed and she crawled into bed, feeling half asleep already.

The moment she was beside him, Eddie flopped his arm forward and looped it around her waist. He gently pulled (Y/n) back towards him until her back hit his bare chest and he was able to tuck his face into the crook of her neck and smother his lips against her warm skin.

"How is she?" Eddie's deep, rumbling voice was laced with sleep and showed he was barely awake, the same as (Y/n). He continued tiredly peppering kisses along her neck and jaw while his hand splayed out on her chest and this thumb stroked up and down her skin over her top.

"She was sick again, but she's gone back to sleep now."

"If she wakes again I'll go stay with her."

A few weeks ago when Joey had been sick during the night, (Y/n) had woken up in the morning to an empty bed. She went in search of Eddie and found him in the triplets' room, cramped into Joey's small bed with Joey laid out on his chest, fast asleep. She had been surprised that the other two hadn't climbed on top of him in a dog pile, but they must not have noticed that Eddie had spent the majority of the night in their room.

(Y/n) knew if Grace started crying out for Eddie, he would go see her and he would end up staying with her for the night to make sure she was okay.

Each of the four kids had the amazing ability to wrap Eddie around their little fingers in their own way but when they were ill, they all wanted hugs and cuddles.

Tonight was going to be no different.

(Y/n) could feel herself drifting in and out of sleep, but she found it hard to properly switch off. Part of her mind was on alert, waiting for Grace to cry out or be sick again or scuttle into their bed and say she couldn't sleep. And she was also expecting Nate and Joey to therefore wake up too and find it hard to settle again. The boys had been waking up every time Grace threw up and then (Y/n) and Eddie had to settle all three of them back to sleep.

She nuzzled her face into the pillow and willed herself back to sleep, unsure how long she had been dozing off for.

She could hear Eddie's soft breathing behind her and she could feel his lips merging with the back of her head. He had edged even closer to her since she climbed back into bed and now had his lips and nose pressed down against her hair.

Eddie's arm had stayed secured around her waist and his chest was glued to her back like they were merging into one.

She felt Eddie hum in content in his sleep when she wriggled back against him and burrowed down into his embrace. Her hand reached down to grip his arm that was deadlocked around her waist and she clung to him, hoping their closeness would send her back to sleep.

"Daddy…"

(Y/n)'s eyes began to flutter and her head started to spin again as she tried to wake herself up but it was hard when every inch of her was desperate to stay asleep, curled up into her husband. But if she didn't get up now, then Eddie would have to wake up. One of them had to move.

A yawn escaped her lips and she moved her head around on the pillow, slowly opening her eyes to try and see where her little girl was. Her voice sounded distant and quiet, maybe she was in the doorway. Grace had a thing of lurking in doorways, afraid of walking into the room late at night when she knew she was supposed to be asleep.

It didn't matter that (Y/n) and Eddie always told her that it didn't matter when she wasn't well. If she needed them, she could wake them up or come out of her room and find them around the house for whatever she needed and she wouldn't be in trouble. She still got worried and hung back in doorways.

"Baby, what's the matter?" She willed herself not to fall back asleep and tried to look around for her little girl.

Maybe Grace couldn't sleep for feeling sick and she wanted to climb into their bed. It wouldn't be the first time and neither her nor Eddie would object to Grace spending the rest of the night with them. It would save them having to keep getting up to go into her room to settle her.

She opened her eyes and looked ahead of her at the side of the bed just as Grace's meek, delicate voice caught her attention again.

"I need help."

Eddie's eyes shot open and his body jolted against the bed when (Y/n)'s scream pelted through his ears and sent shockwaves through his body.

He jerked forward, tightening his left arm around (Y/n)'s waist while simultaneously pulling her back against his chest to keep her safe and close. Their legs were tangled together and Eddie couldn't quite loosen his leg from between her thighs, despite not knowing the threat or realising what was going on.

His chest was heaving and his head snapped to look around the room and find the intruder. There was a baseball bat tucked under Eddie's side of the bed which his mind was intently trying to focus on in case he had to take a dive to grab it and defend them.

They hadn't had a break in before. They had never had a scare like that and Eddie couldn't remember the last time he had woken up to his wife screaming.

"Amor-" He briefly looked down at (Y/n) who was pushing back into his chest, but when he looked in front of her, his chest tightened until he wasn't able to breathe properly. The air fizzled out of his lungs and his jaw loosened and hung down in silent shock.

He hastily uncurled his arm from (Y/n)'s waist and leaned his chest down into her back so he could reach out for her nightstand. He switched on the bedside lamp, illuminating the dark grey room with a golden orange aura. Tears welled behind his eyes and every muscle in his body tensed until it felt like he was going to snap in two when his eyes set on his baby girl.

"Oh God!"

Grace was stood at the side of their bed, tears falling from her eyes that were a mixture of tired and petrified, but it was her face that sent her parents reeling. Blood was everywhere. Blood was painted over her nose, mouth and chin and smeared onto her cheeks from where she had tried to wipe it away. It was all down her neck and splattered on her pyjamas like she had tucked into a bowl of strawberries before bed.

Eddie practically climbed over (Y/n) to jump off the bed and scramble onto unsteady legs in front of his four-year-old. His hands cupped her bloodied face and tilted her head from side to side to try and see where she was hurt.

"Babygirl, what happened, were you sick again?"

His eyes briefly scanned the room as if to make sure there was no one lurking in the doorway or hanging around a corner ready to pounce and attack them but the room was empty and safe. He looked back at Grace and tilted her head up before he gently moved his thumb to her lower lip and opened her mouth to check she hadn't thrown up the blood. It was smeared all across her face and down her lips.

If she had thrown up blood then Eddie would have to take her down to the emergency room right now.

"Daddy, my nose… I'm sorry." Grace gently touched her button nose that resembled her mother before she held her hands out towards her dad who looked down to see them covered in blood.

She had never had a nosebleed before. She woke up thinking she was going to be sick but when she looked down, her nose had unleashed a river of blood that splattered down her face, onto her clothes and her bed and she didn't know what to do or how to stop it. Just as Grace reached her parent's room, the bleeding stopped but she was still covered in blood.

She had managed to quietly scramble out of bed so she didn't alert her brothers and wake them up. She didn't know what her brothers would say if they saw all the blood. She hadn't been sure what her parents would say or do when they saw it and she feared she might get in trouble for making such a mess.

"Oh baby. It's okay, let's get you cleaned up."

Eddie gently scooped her up in his arms and sat her on his hip as he stood up to his full height. His erratic heart was starting to calm down now he knew he wouldn't have to call 911 and say one of his kids was coughing up blood. The thought of Grace coughing up blood sent Eddie's mind reeling, he couldn't be dealing with that sort of panic because he knew the kind of illnesses and problems which would cause that in a toddler, and none of them were good.

Leaning over the bed, Eddie pressed his free hand to the back of (Y/n)'s head and kissed her temple, feeling her hands reaching out to hold his hips for a few seconds.

The sight of their daughter stood at the side of the bed drenched in blood had almost made (Y/n) faint. She couldn't help but scream when it looked like Grace had been attacked or was dying, asking for help in such a feeble, terrified voice like that. She wasn't going to get that image out of her head.

Grace tucked her face into Eddie's neck and coiled her arms around his neck as he headed out into the hall.

After a quick thought, Eddie nudged her bedroom door open and took a peek inside just to make sure the boys were alright. Both Nate and Joey were fast asleep in their beds and he rolled his eyes to see that Joey had clambered out at some point and now harboured more toys in his bed with him.

But it was the sight of Grace's bed that made Eddie take in a sharp breath and the four year old whimpered into his neck, afraid she was going to get told off for the mess.

The pale lilac covers Eddie had only just changed a few hours ago were now splattered with crimson and had a large patch of blood drying in the middle. Half of the pillow was soiled with blood that no doubt had seeped into the pillow itself and the bed sheet was dotted with smears of blood matching the little droplets on the carpet and the bedside table.

"Okay," Eddie rubbed his temple at the sight of all the mess from one little nosebleed. It was going to take a lot of cleaning. "You can sleep with me and mummy tonight and we'll sort this in the morning."

There was no way Eddie was cleaning this up now, not when Grace needed comfort and they all needed sleep, and he couldn't risk waking the boys. As much as Eddie knew leaving the blood was going to make it harder to clean the stain in the morning, he couldn't be bothered tonight.

It could wait until morning when Eddie would no doubt have to bin the pillow and most likely the sheets as well. He quietly pulled the bed sheet off and wrapped it around the duvet sheet so when the boys woke up in the morning, they wouldn't be frightened by the sight of bloodied sheets and their sister no where to be seen.

He then grabbed some fresh pyjamas from the drawer and quietly left the room. On his way to the bathroom, he peeked in Chris's room just to make sure the eldest was still asleep and hadn't woken up at any point from the charades tonight.

He flicked on the bathroom light before he gently sat Grace down on the side of the sink. "Let's clean you up baby."

Once the sink was filled with warm water, Eddie threw her bloodied pyjamas in a corner.

"Come here, look. I'm not washing your hair tonight, we can wash it tomorrow." Eddie carefully gathered Grace's hair in his hands and found a bobble to tie it up at the back of her head. There was no way he was giving her another bath, not after she had had two tonight from being sick. It was too late and they were both too tired for that.

He could see a few strands clumped together with sticky blood, but her hair wasn't matted and he would wash it as soon as they got up in the morning. right now, he just needed to get them both cleaned up and back to bed to see if they could get a few hours of sleep.

He was glad he wasn't back at work in the morning.

He began to hum softly as he grabbed a sponge and started to clean the blood that was caked onto her skin like drying cement. He took his time getting the blood from beneath her short fingernails and scrubbed her hands, arms, shoulders and around her neck before he dared move towards her face.

She had smeared the blood everywhere in her panic. Her lips, down her chin, across her cheeks and even beneath her eyes, and it was all dried around her nose too.

Her eyes closed and she scrunched up her nose and lips as Eddie carefully held her chin in his left hand and switched the sponge for a flannel that would be easier and better on her skin. His tongue poked between his teeth and he bent down to be level with her so he could make sure he got it all off.

He then cleaned the little specks of blood from his neck and hands that she had inadvertently transferred onto him by mistake.

"That's better, babygirl."

The sink looked like a crime scene when Eddie was finally finished cleaning the blood off them both. And when he looked at his little girl sitting on the side of the sink, his heart swelled and cracked at the same time. She was rubbing her eyes, trying her best to stay awake but she was wobbling and flagging, in desperate need of sleep.

He set her down to her feet and helped her into a clean set of pyjamas, and once Grace held her arms back out towards him, Eddie could do nothing but oblige. He lifted her up to settle back against his chest and he slowly made his way out the bathroom and back to his bedroom.

He took a moment to look at (Y/n) once he was back in their room. She was laid down again, but her eyes were open and she looked wide awake. Grace had given her a fright and a boat load of adrenaline that was taking a while to wear off.

Eddie ventured closer to the bed but he stopped when Grace quietly whimpered into his neck.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"I feel sick."

Eddie reasoned with himself that he wasn't tired anymore. Grace had given him such a fright that he was now wide awake with the image of her covered in blood engraved onto his mind. So he turned off the bedside lamp so the room was back to a hazy dark blue colour with only a few glimpses of light peeking through.

He shuffled Grace down in his arms until she was curled up on his bare chest and stomach, her legs coiled up to her stomach and her head on his collarbone so his chin could perch on top of her head.

He walked towards the window and began to pace up and down the carpet. His feet were slowly shuffling along the carpet and he rocked his arms up and down so Grace was swaying up and down on his chest just like he used to do when she was little.

It was something he had done with all the kids. He struggled to get a connection with Chris when he came back from the army, but he found that when Chris couldn't sleep, rocking him against his chest and pacing the room like this settled him to sleep.

It worked wonders with Nate too. The triplets had been kept in hospital for quite a few weeks after they were born and the boys were released before Grace. Nate had colic and was always unsettled so Eddie took to pacing the bedroom and rocking his boy up and down to help his tummy and get him to fall asleep. And it worked for all the triplets when they weren't feeling well or something was wrong and they were unsettled like this. It was a habit none of them had grown out of yet.

(Y/n) turned over in bed to face the window and a tender look fluttered across her face. She watched Eddie pad barefoot across the carpet in small lines in front of the window and it was almost as if (Y/n) had been transported back four years to see Eddie calming one of their newborns.

He had Grace in his arms who was finally fast asleep, curled up into his chest like she was a little baby curling back into the fetal position. Clearly Eddie wasn't ready to go to sleep just yet, he was too content humming to his daughter and holding her while she slept to think about going back to bed.

***

Opening her eyes, (Y/n) adjusted to the brightness seeping into the room and glanced around before a soft smile formed on her lips. She was laid on her side, facing Eddie.

He was sprawled out on his back, one leg hanging off the edge of the bed and his hair was stuck up in all directions. Grace was laid out on his chest, her head buried in the crook of his neck and his arm was looped safely around her back. Even in his sleep, he was holding her secure against him, trying to keep her safe and sound in his arms.

Rocking her to sleep had done the trick for the rest of the night and Grace clearly hadn't been sick again or had another tremendous nosebleed, which was a great relief.

But what made (Y/n)'s grin broaden was the fact that when she looked down, she realised they weren't the only ones in bed. Both Nate and Joey had somehow found their way into the bed at some point in the early morning. They were both curled up in the middle of the bed, Joey tucking himself into (Y/n)'s chest while Nate was as close to Eddie as he could get without also laying on his dad and crushing him in his sleep.

Shuffling closer, (Y/n) kept her left arm tucked beneath Joey and reached her right arm across to rest on Eddie's abdomen.

A hum passed through Eddie's lips and his hand moved to squeeze (Y/n)'s arm before he rubbed at his eyes to wake himself up. He was tired, he was beyond tired but he didn't want to sleep anymore. His chest was aching from having Grace sprawled out on top of him like this, it made it a lot harder to breathe deeply when she was pushing down on him but it didn't really matter. His little girl was comfy and finally asleep, Eddie would stay crushed and out of breath forever if it gave Grace some comfort.

When he opened his eyes, Eddie tried to look around without disturbing Grace who nuzzled her face closer into his neck and tickled his skin with each soft breath she took.

A smile sprawled across his face when he realised the boys had wormed their way into bed with them too. They must have woken up and realised Grace wasn't in their room anymore and quietly slithered out to find her.

He started to run his hand up and down Grace's back while he wormed his right hand around to reach for the boys, and then for (Y/n). It felt like his wife was laid an ocean's distance away from him rather than just a few feet with the boys laid between them.

He brushed the back of his hand against (Y/n)'s cheek and stretched out as much as he could with Grace wriggling around on his chest. And he could feel his smile growing wider when he heard Chris's bedroom door slam shut and his plodding footsteps growing closer and closer in the hall. He was coming to find them and see if they were all awake yet.

"Mornin' troop."

[callooopie]

Modern!Davos Blackwood headcannons (pt. 2)

— The hastily written during work break edition —

I get messages from the stars, when you’re making love to me — Messages From the Stars // The Rah Band

i go to college to get more knowledge but why does college interfere with my tumblr writing 😔 I’m not even at school yet and I’ve gotta start kicking into academic gear..

In light of some recent episode developments. I think I’ll rescind the headcannon that his name is Benjicot Davos. It’s just Davos now. (Lowkey… I thought HBO would just honestly write out the character of Benjicot… I was apparently wrong when they just mentioned him ig) anyways new headcannon Davos has a little brother, surprise. Ben’s gotta learn unhinged behavior from somewhere after all.. and what better way to start than with his “cool” older brother.

You know that text post that goes like “Have you ever argued with your girlfriend?” “Nope. She tells me to shut up and I do.” That was actually a text convo between Davos and his friend. He’s dumb, but not stupid. If you tell him to do something he’s doing it (as long as it’s legal… then again he’s really not the type to listen to the law)

He likes slow and domestic mornings. Getting up late, brushing your teeth together. He’ll flick water at you as you’re brushing your hair or doing your skincare routine with the most dopey and tired smile. He knows he’s won when you stop what you’re doing to stare at him with an unamused look. He washes his face like a lunatic though (both hands just furiously rubbing his face with little to no product). He’ll make the coffee and you turn on the tv. Pure silence except for the background noise of a news channel or show. Don’t even get him started on the part where you both fall back asleep on the couch as the sun rises and sunlight funnels in through the curtains. Pure bliss.

He LOVES girls night. How did he get an invite? He didn’t! But he’s quiet and normal, so he gets the girls night pass. It could be just you, or a few friends, even a group. But Davos will be there using the face masks, eating the finger food, drinking the fancy drinks. His girls night pass gets revoked though because he does not pay attention to the talk. He’s too busy devouring the charcuterie board to care about drama! …oh that’s the whole point of girls night? Oh… “Oh—and we like her right? …she’s problematic? …So we hate her? Oh… okay yeah she sounded weird—“

“Unique” pet names. There’s always the classics (love, darling, cutie, honey) but he’s got a few under his belt that turn heads, in a bad way maybe. He starts off pretty tame, he uses “my lady” a lot (chivalry-pilled). “Ma’am” too. “My lady” has a chance to devolve into “my liege” :/ Davos calls you pookie and you call him pookie back. You’re both pookie what can I say (sometimes uses the shortened ‘pooks’). Every single pet name he uses must have ‘my’ in front of it. “Do you want to get that pizza from that one place, my lady? Yeah? Okay—No I can pay don’t worry about it, my lovely.”

If you’re not a gamer, but you like to play in both casual and competitive games with him. The only reason you’re having a pretty good game in a competitive game is because Davos is fighting for his life to give you guys the W. Sometimes you’re a little lost, sometimes you clutch up. But usually it’s him, keyboard furiously clicking, eyes darting around his monitor. His face is literally in the monitor he’s so locked in. And you’re just in the call like (“Aw dang it I died.. woww you make it look so easy!”) “Me? No you’re doing work too—look at all those assists and kills you got. You’re pulling your weight too. You get ‘em low I clean up. It’s these other fuckers on our team that aren’t—“ (he went 30/14/5 and you went 10/21/16)

Regardless of your skills in video games, he gets so hype for you in them. Casual or competitive, he’s screaming about every single achievement you or you both make. A clutch round you win all by yourself? GG EZ TELL EM TO GO NEXT THEY DON’T WANT YOUR SMOKE. You build something in your shared Minecraft world? Stunning, beautiful. The architecture is to die for. The redstone? You did that all yourself? He would’ve thought you followed a tutorial it was so good!

Can eat, will eat. He’s a big strong boy, he’s gotta eat. Which means if you ask for Taco Bell or McDonald’s at 2 am? He’s gonna get some with you! You can honestly just text him an order and he’ll understand right away. This turns into you both driving around late at night, music blasting and you feeding him fries. Speaking of food; he’s a heavy believer in the ‘boyfriend tax’. He will steal a sip of your drink or a bite of your food, regardless of consequences.

I do believe Davos is sassy. It’s like dangerous levels of sass he gives you sometimes. It makes you do a double take. Side-eyes, eye rolls, scoffs, dramatic sighs. He is a drama queen.

How he deals with others who bother you in public can range between normal and not normal. Davos has a few options that run through his mind when you encounter a catcaller or unwanted advances. He can either tell the guy to fuck off, start a fight, start barking at him. He will bark, he has barked. It startled you more than the offending guy. But also Davos knows when to get serious, when to actually deal with someone who’s invading your space or not leaving you alone. He’s a tall dude, he works out. He can be pretty imposing. And he’s not afraid to be the first one to hit or push, especially if the offending man has gotten on his nerves too. And not just because they were trying to flirt or shoot a shot at you.

A big aquarium date guy. Or any date really. Actually, any way he can hang out or be near you is considered a date to him and something that makes his day much better. He likes spending time with you, and he likes showing you off to the public. He gets to walk next to you and say “that’s my date! They’re on a date with me!” It’s perhaps the best part of the whole day, being able to be seen right with you. Even if you’re just a passing couple, two people in the midst of a whole crowd, it’s still something to Davos. And that something tells everyone that you’re his.

[thejockout]

Your Inner Brute

Helllooooo, I'm back! Any reblogs of this would be double/triple appreciated since my old account got nuked and I lost most of my audience, but I'm still kicking. Sort of.

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"Your Inner Brute" is a brutification TF hypnosis file aimed at enacting permanent change in the listener.

Think of a brute as somewhere between a Caveman and an Alpha - he's an arrogant, egoic, self-centered, powerful, voracious man who won't be denied, and who always gets his way. He cares about three things… muscle, s3x, and showing off his power. He needs nothing else, and nothing else matters to him. He's a bit of a dumbass, but I mean… have you seen those muscles? He's got every right to be.

This file's a little different to previous works and I expect it not to resonate with a lot of you, but I hope it's fun for those into this kind of darker, alpha TF content. It's very @avissapiens coded. It's been what I'm in the mood for for a while, so felt like it was finally time to put it out.

In practical terms, it contains suggestions:

To motivate the listener to go to the gym

To make the listener enjoy dominating more

To make the listener enjoy showing off their power and strength

To make the listener a cocky asshole, basically

To make the listener embrace being the dumb one

To, over time, wholly replace the listener's original personality with that of their Inner Brute

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When I'm not dropping myself or others, I'm off being a mystical forest bro in the wilderness of Ireland. But I am always available for commissions if you reach out via DM. My flat rate is currently $60-100, but you can check my pinned Tumblr post for more up-to-date info. You can also support me with a one-time tip either via Paypal or Ko-Fi... or by subscribing to me on Patreon! Keep listening, bros.

[ohmygraves]

Hello, this is my first time jump into someone's ask box. May i have a request Gaz or any TF141 men you think would fit with reader who has big bruises on their body (they got it from mission or simply after training) but reader choose to hide it and tend the bruises by them selves. The man found this out by accident when they're changing clothes or whatever scenario you would put up. It's a bit angst but with a lot of comfort afterwards. You may ignore this if you feel uncomfortable with this trope..

Sincerely

Anon from Indonesia UTC+8

hello anon, thank you so much for requesting! i feel like they all would be concerned if the reader got hurt but refused to go get it checked with the medics (⁠ ⁠･ั⁠﹏⁠･ั⁠) so i will try to write some bits for all of them 💖 i hope you like it, sorry it took so long!

you got hurt on the last mission you went to with gaz.

you, captain price, and the sergeant were on the comms line together. you're in charge of backing up kyle when he infiltrates the building, and was talking with laswell and price. some dumb jokes, catching up with the station chief, stuff like that. the mission had been slow, and you're getting bored staying out there alone glued to the scope.

looking back, you probably shouldn't have joined in on the banter. you completely missed an enemy ambushing you from behind, and had lost communications for a few minutes as you got slammed against a huge boulder, tossed around by the man who attacked you. it was a miracle you got back in one piece, only bruised and some small cuts after the scuffle. you were lucky, so lucky that you're not sure if this were to happen again, you'd probably not going to be able to return at all.

you noticed how kyle, price and laswell was worried during your disappearance from the comms line, especially since kyle kept calling for you a few times and you wouldn't answer. after you shot the man down, you brushed off your clothes and returned to your post, apologizing to everyone and explaining what had happened. you assured everything is fine, and that you're okay and can still keep going. you didn't bleed out or anything.

oh, how wrong you were.

as you sat on the exfil vehicle together with price and gaz, you're starting to feel sore. the adrenaline coursing through your veins must've dulled the pain earlier, and now that it's gone down, you're feeling the pain.

honestly, pain might be an understatement, because you feel like you just got hit by a car.

god, your body hurts. every inch of your body feels like it's screaming for mercy. you're sure that bruises are forming somewhere under your clothes, but you honestly can't be bothered to even go to the medic for this. not when kyle is bleeding beside you and price is stressed because the target escaped.

it's fine, you can deal with it later. frozen peas and some painkillers will do the job.

you didn't realize that someone did notice how you're nearly limping around to go catch up with price for a debriefing...

john price

he'd noticed that you were hurt after you returned his calls on the comms, just after you finished shooting the guy who messed you up on the field. although, he was too occupied to even press you more about it, deciding to trust you that everything is fine on your end. thankfully, you did returned to the helo in one piece, which eases his mind.

still, he couldn't help but notice how off you're walking to his office, wincing slightly as you take each step. something must've happened back then when you were cut off from comms, and he needs to know. he quickly finished debriefing and dismissed everyone else, but told you to stay behind.

you feel your bones creak every time you move, even if that doesn't seem physically possible.

"are you sure you're okay?" price asked you, crossing his arms over his chest as he examined you top to bottom, "you're limping quite awfully, doll."

"'m fine, captain... gonna go check on kyle..." you replied curtly, not wanting him to make a big deal out of it. it's just a couple of bruises, nothing bad surely.

"get it checked with the medics. and i'll know if you don't." he sighed, "i know you think you can fix it yourself, but you should get it checked either way. you may be able to fix some scrapes, but you'll need to see if you broke any ribs or not."

"but—"

"it's an order, soldier," price snapped, "no ifs or buts."

you didn't say anything, simply nodding and turned back to leave his office. you might actually do it, given how sore your body feels right now. you didn't hear that price approached you, holding your hand over the doorknob. his eyes looked closer to examine you, his free hand moving to caress your cheek, his thumb wiping off the dirt on your face.

"take care of yourself, love. please."

"i'll try, captain..."

"good. that's all i asked."

simon "ghost" riley

you decided that you want to take a shower before going to see kyle at the infirmary.

he was bleeding a lot, it might take a while to see him anyway. and you were rolling around on mud that whole mission, you feel like you were covered in dirt from head to toe. gross.

the communal shower is just a few meters away anyway.

you took a small detour to your room to grab a change of clothes, thankful that you prepared it in advance. grabbing a cargo pants and a pair of clean t-shirt, you walked into the communal shower at the base, taking off your dirty clothes and setting it aside. it'll be cleaner if you wash them yourself.

changing was hard, your arms feel like it's so sore that it's about to fall off, and not to mention you can't even move freely. maybe price was right, you broke a rib because your chest is hurting slightly when you try to pull your dirty t-shirt over your head.

"what the hell happened t'ya?"

a rough voice called out to you as you heard someone stepped closer. you glanced to see who it was as you struggled to take off your clothes, seeing the familiar mask over the face and a bare, scarred chest. oh, it's just ghost.

"ya looked like a bruised apple."

you laughed, knowing how much your body hurts right now, you kind of feel like one too.

"got thrown around during the mission with gaz and the captain," you replied, trying to wrestle your t-shirt out over your head still as you wince slightly, "just... god, no big deal, really... gaz got shot..."

ghost hummed, nodding slightly as he sees you struggling to undress. "need help?" he asked, eyeing your bruises under the t-shirt peeking out while you try to peel off the fabric off of your body.

"please do, i'm losing my mind..."

"guess someone needs t'see medic after this..."

you rolled your eyes as ghost yanked the shirt off of your body in one swoop, making you groan and hiss at the sharp pain you felt. clearly he wasn't gentle enough.

"sorry," ghost apologized. you didn't really mind, brushing it off as you kicked off your boots and pants down, throwing it somewhere in the room.

"i'll live... thanks, ghost."

he nodded, giving your head a small pat as he turned around to his own locker, his fingers messing your hair up. "don't act tough, go see the medic after this."

you didn't want to tell him that you liked that he patted you on the head, so you grumbled up a response, pouting. "yeah, yeah... you're such a worrywart."

"i mean it. those bruises are messed up."

"i know, i know... geez."

ghost shook his head as he patted your head again, a little more roughly this time, messing your hair as he got dressed and left the communal shower.

john "soap" mactavish

the moment the water hits you, you couldn't help but groan out in pain. you weren't expecting hot water or anything, but at least not something that would literally freeze your arse up. you weren't sure if cold water is better since you're far too distracted from the pain by how cold your fingertips are.

you wondered if there's any way you could get some hot water, most of the time it's always broken.

your fingers started messing with the dial, fumbling as you tried to dodge the cold water hitting those sore spots on your body.

"jesus wit happened to ye, bonnie?"

you turned around seeing soap in his naked glory, somehow. having seen everyone naked at this point, you didn't care enough to mention it. it's the shower anyway.

"got smacked across the face by the enemy earlier on mission."

"yer like a bruised pear."

you shrugged it off, "lt said apple earlier, but same difference i suppose."

he chuckled, looking at what you were doing. he didn't say anything, simply moving to adjust the water for you. after fiddling for a while, he managed to find a good enough temperature that you could enjoy.

"need help, bonnie?"

"'m good, soap. you should go see gaz."

he didn't fight you, simply giving you some head pats, chuckling when he sees your pouting face. sometimes you feel like he's treating you like a kid or like a younger sibling... well, until he gave your butt a squeeze anyway.

"ow! soap!" you yelped in pain, knowing that a bruise has formed there too. soap laughed, giving it a small pat as he teased you again.

"careful, bonnie. can't get our star all bruised now~"

you rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue at him as he walked out of the communal shower.

kyle "gaz" garrick

after taking about an hour on your "quick shower", you get changed and decide to go see gaz in medbay. knowing that he got shot made you feel awful, so you just want to see if he's okay. you're sure he's fine, but he's going to keep bitching about it for weeks.

you made your way to the medbay, seeing if you could visit kyle. he was on the bed, pouting, so you decided to walk in and sit by his bedside.

"hey, you okay?" you asked him, seeing how he's wrapped in bandages.

"have a few extra holes on me, but i'd say i'm feeling better... you?" gaz let out a sigh as he looked at you, noticing the way you sit uncomfortably on the chair because of your bruises.

"i'll live."

"they got you too, huh?" gaz sighed, looking disappointed at you, "i'll call the medics."

you didn't want to bother him, so you tried to stop him.

"what? you're hurt. just because it's bruises doesn't mean that you can just brush it off." gaz shakes his head, taking your hand in his. "i don't like seeing you get hurt."

that made you blush, your heart thumping as kyle called for the medics to check on you too. you could feel his hand on yours, thumbs caressing the back of your hand as medics approached you.

[miifu666]

Yandere isekai! Alpha!

Who you met during your mindless scrolling through the brainrotting reels and videos thats feeding the addiction part of your brain, in no time you're suddenly transported in the middle of a busy street with your pajamas.

Not knowing if you've accidentally sleepwalked or if you were daydreaming, you noticed the strange waft of different smells the people around you have.

Its all too much for your brain, the smell of different perfumes clashing eachother is making your head spin. In no time, you accidentally hit your head on someone.

A tall person, maybe 6'7 you note. You have to crank your neck upwards to see him, apologize and run back to your home despite forgetting that you're in the middle of an unknown street.

"S..sorry..?" You half muttered, trying to get a glimpse of the man by squinting, the backlight of the sun isn't helping the unfortunate circumstances you're in.

"No problem! ...hey are you lost, little thing?" The man tilted his head, blocking the sun and giving you a bit of how he looks now. "You don't smell like an average beta.. or omega... even alpha"

He's an attractive person, a lazy smile etched on his perfectly smooth face. Pulling the fat of the cheeks a little and curving his cat-like eyes just beneath his golden rimmed glasses. Theres a few moles you see near his left eye, under the eyebrow and bottom lip. He looks like one of those pinterest models you see, one that people put as a drawing reference.

"Uhm.. what?"

"You're okay?"

"I think so? What do you mean.. average beta?"

Hearing your answer, the tall man can only hummed and fix his dark blue hair. It wasn't long enough to reach his shoulder but not short enough to reach his ears too, a layered cut maybe? You try to figure out the man's body action before hearing out what he has to say. Theres a small fear of you getting kidnapped, pulled into some drunken bar or maybe a dimmed and empty place to steal your organs.

"Betas? You know, the second gender?" He muttered, the lazy smile is still stapled on his face. You asked if he's talking about the same beta, omega and alpha that you know about. The ones that you've read in fiction and posts, a universe where people have secondary genders instead of just the usual biological male or female. "Hmmm... yes?".

You wanted to laugh, make a weird face, punch him on the guts, to say he's joking would be an understatement. He looks serious, in fact. He looks at you judgingly despite the small smile he kept. You panicked, finding out that those isekai fictions are actually happening to you, during your scrolling on the dumb thin brick of electronic. Maybe if you weren't so focused on it, you would realized you're slowly being transported into another dimension.

The man tilted his head again, a small humm is heard despite the loud steps of the crowd walking past you. The crowd, you're also in the middle of the busy street. The sweat on your palms feels more wet now that you realized everyone is seeing you in your pajamas, the only pair of outfit you wear to be comfortable alone, uninterrupted in your small abode.

"You look so anxious.. wanna go somewhere to talk? Seems like you need something to straighten your mind"

Time moves quickly, you're now sitting in a thick sofa. One that feels like its been used for years, the comfortable dent it has gives you a sense of belonging. The man, introduced himself as Elias. Explained to you how this world works, after noticing how despite having betas around. You have a particular smell that isnt too strong or "unique" as he would say it. "Quite the catch you are" he smiled as he tilted his head again, the act reminding you of an owl. "An alpha like me have sharper nose... but i can barely smell you. Its like smelling a deer.. small deer"

Now you're lounging in his house, holding a warm chamomile tea he brewed. Feeling snug despite being in a strangers house, waiting for him to finish changing. He discussed about you having a place to stay, urging you to live in his house for awhile till you can figure things out in this world. 'How kind..' you think, 'maybe the alphas in the fiction isnt as horrible as it actually is in here... '

You didn't noticed the lingering look he's giving you, the licking of his lips each time you tend to appear skittish and unsafe. He has a need to keep you alone, keep you safe around him and maybe spoil you a bit. Who knows? Maybe throughout all his life being an Apex Alpha, you are his true mate. The reason he's been so devoid of any feeling and not so obedient for his wolf side is because you haven't appeared in his universe.

Fortunately hes a patient man, so patient. He can easily break you down to become his perfect little omega, no matter if you'll have it as a second gender or not. In his eyes, you'll always be an omega. His omega

Elias is an old yandere oc i created, i had some ideas of how he is but i wanted to show more of his personality here. Theres a few notes past me put on his character but the rest, is improvised.Sooo this is all not proofread.

[doshiart]

F1 AU // GALLAVICH

Ian Gallagher is a racing driver, a young star of the McLaren team. Mickey is just a car technician, who only recently joined the team as a trainee.

/long read backstory below/

Okay, I've thought about this a lot. So.. Shameless US but.. huh? living in UK?

First of all, because Formula 1 is more popular in Europe. Secondly, because I want to alter the story of Mickey's growing up. Make it a story about a little boy persevering towards his dreams. And how a simple childhood passion can grow into a potential job opportunity.

If briefly, below I talk about Mickey's developmental stages, along with his final emigration from Ukraine to the UK.

I'm not going into Ian's backstory here. But I'll mention this in more detail at the very end of the post, if you get to the end. Ha ha. Have fun reading!!

---------------

Mickey was six, just a little boy, when he first saw a F1 race on TV. And he was amazed by how quickly the cars could go and how quickly the mechanics performed at pit stops. (Are these even mechanics? Well, they turn the wheels, dad does the same thing in the garage and considers himself a mechanic).

When the next year he went to school in his first grade, then to all the teachers' questions or questionnaires with their “What do you want to be when you grow up?” he confidently answered as clearly as his childish language could, that he would definitely become a F1 mechanic. Even though he received only gentle smiles in reaction to his naivety of being a kid, the desire took root in his little head.

---

As he grew older, he continued to enjoy racing, watching every race weekend he could. And while he was a child this did not cause any particular problems. Mom encouraged him in his interests and every New Year gave him tiny branded cars of the teams he loved. But as he gets older, the more often he hears from dad that he is interested in some stupid things. And he didn't want to hear a word about racing at all. As soon as Mickey mentioned it even once, he was cut off mid-sentence.

These are not real cars.

Real mechanics work in a garage with real cars, not kids' toys for show.

Come down to earth. It’s all somewhere far away and you never even get to one of these races in your life.

---

Well, Mickey talks less about racing out loud anymore. Especially after mom's gone.

Tiny model cars disappeared into the closet's darkness.

His dad began to drag him into their garage more often so that he would get used to work and not wander around idle, lost in his stupid dreams. He had to skip live racing broadcasts as a result. It was sort of suicidal acts to turn this on in the garage on a small TV instead of some dumb music channel with hit songs. Mickey had learnt long ago to keep his mouth shut.

Just listen. Bring it. Grab it. Repair simple details. Don't go under the hood. Don't touch this, don't touch that. And especially don't break anything. Blah blah blah.

Jesus, are you even a man? Take your gentle hands away if you're not ready to get dirty.

---

Despite everything, Mickey still had a dream. One day, he hopes to watch a real-life race. Hear the noise of wheels flying over the track, the roar of engines, the screams of a supportive crowd. He prefers to never talk about his own desire to work as a car mechanic or engineer in F1.

---

Mickey was sixteen when he left after ninth grade for a vocational college to applied mechanics specialty.

Because, well, he had good reasons for leaving school two grades early. At the very least, he was already tired of going to school. He didn't even have any friends there. Yes, he communicated with classmates, but that's not it. It's forced. Just so as not to be an outcast and maintain the status of the Milkovich family by playing dirty tricks at school and bullying others. Did he like it? Absolutely not. These guys were idiots with stupid jokes and always picking on chicks.

They kept asking if he liked any of them and talking about how they looked all the time. Mickey never liked anyone. It wasn't that the girls were ugly, he just didn't find them attractive. But he pushed these thoughts away and ignored them. Left it somewhere near to the tiny race cars in the darkness.

Also, classmates called him into fights on regularly. Not that he was against kicking someone's dumb ass, but that he would prefer better reasons than just trying to prove whose class is above.

Another reason is that, in their family, working with their hands and having a real profession are more valued than going to higher education. Because this is a job for real men. Where will all these managers, lawyers, accountants, stupid psychologists be when their car breaks down? Mechanics will always have work and profit.

As well, Mickey is deeply curious about the workings of the engine and wants to fully understand its mechanisms. He will therefore be able to study this in practice with teachers, rather than with a psychotic bastard who screams at the slightest opportunity.

The only thing Mickey truly wanted to learn at school was English. Not because he loved it. This gave him at least some hope of "breaking abroad for the sake of a good life". Perhaps the main reason for his success was that he had a really great teacher who pushed and encouraged him. Sometimes he would stick around after class and stay just to talk with her. Mickey felt parental care, which he hasn't received lately.

“I believe that you can achieve a lot, Mikhailo. Just believe in yourself.” She told him and he believed her, hugging her a little longer so as not to show his wet eyes.

And well, after leaving school, these words sometimes came to mind during the saddest times, when he returned home after a long day of school combined with an exhausting shift in the family garage. Every time he spoke with his dad, he felt terribly devastated. The dream was literally slipping out from Mickey's hands. A pipe dream, is that what they say? Well, at least he'll try to do something.

---

Mickey was twenty when he graduated and by this time he was actively saving money, hiding it in different places. Also, he planned his escape from home, considered the best routes, and looked at what things he should take with him, confused about whether he would ever return home again.

As he approached his twenty-first birthday, he finally decided to do it. With only a spark of hope, he was ready to leave for nowhere. And okay, Mickey was a realist; he was aware that things might not work out at all and that he would have to return back eventually. But he'll do anything, though, to make sure that this doesn't happen, to avoid having to meet his dad's derisive gaze once more as his goal gets mocked.

After all, a dream is a dream, right? He also had skills and language abilities in his pocket. So he's really ready to do anything to attain even the tiniest success.

---

To get to UK, Mickey had to go through a long journey of transfers from bus to train, from train to plane. He's terribly tired, but here he is. He stands and watches as the new country greets him with heavy rain.

He first found it difficult to adjust to other people's smiling faces. There were a few times when he didn't feel at home because everyone was so friendly and lovely. And these people were incredibly talkative. He'll have to get used to this if he plans to stay here.

The first difficulties he encountered occurred at the department while filling out a form for migrants.

“Mik.. Mikai.. Mikaelo?”

“Mikhailo.” Mickey interrupted.

The employee's eyes stared blankly at him.

He sighed. “Ugh.. Mickey? Yeah, Mickey.”

“Okay, Mickey. Here you are.”

---

Mickey got a job as a mechanic for a small business fairly quickly thanks to his abilities. He was so easily and warmly accepted into the friendly team. Here he first felt respect while working. Mickey got assistance from the job department in extending his visa to stay in the country. His job also provided him with a tiny apartment, deducted from his paycheck.

After a while, feeling a little more self-assured, Mickey started saving money for qualifying courses that would help him in the future.

---

Mickey was almost twenty-four when he successfully obtained all the qualifications that were necessary for the job, as well as to be sure of himself and his knowledge. During this time two full racing seasons had passed. He attended only one race at Silverstone. This was his almost full year in the UK. His skin broke out in goosebumps when he saw the track in person. It wasn't quite what he expected. Mickey literally stood in one place and once in a while cars would drive by. On TV they show a larger overview, but still. He was excited. In this grand prix, a new young racer from the McLaren team took third place for the first time. His name seems to be Ian, and he likes to take risks on the track, driving the car while presenting a strong sense of confidence. And his hair perfectly matches with the team's car.

He missed the second race due to a qualifying exam. But he's not upset. Mickey is closer than ever to his dream. If everything works out, he'll see even more racing. If not, well, then he'll continue to work repairing regular cars. Perhaps he'll be able to attend grand prix events in other countries during his holidays?

But now it's the middle of the season and he's standing in the lobby of the McLaren Technology Center. He's trembling a little and his wild eyes are scanning everything in the immediate area.

Mickey can't believe the reality of what's happening. No he didn't become a mechanic. But.. it's still impressive. He was interviewed and tested to become a temporary vehicle technician for the team as an intern. He was told something about a possible career advancement and access to other things once he completed more qualifications, but he's not sure he heard everything correctly.

Later they tested him on team tests on the track. He's surprised that he was able to concentrate on his speed and did everything exactly as needed.

He actually became… exactly the one who changes the wheels and does minor repairs. He joined the technical team and will also work on pit stops during the races. And well, okay, if everything that's happening isn't a dream, he's really happy. Extremely happy. Of course, the longer he studied, the more he wanted to do engineering and development. But that's the tiny step, right? This is already more than anything he could have imagined. He saw the race in real life from the stands, and now he got the opportunity to see everything from the staff. He'll interact directly with the racing car. He might even hear how the team interacts with racers. Unbelievable.

Through the noise in his ears, Mickey hears someone standing beside him talking in a muffled voice.

“Hey! You're a new technician, right?”

The guy had already taken off his helmet when Mickey turned around. He softly smiles while stroking his fiery red hair.

Mickey stared at him. When he was brought to the track, he thought that some tester was sitting in the car, but not their young star.

“Yeah. Hope so…” He twitched his lip and scratched nose. “You're Ian, right?”

Of course this is Ian, what a stupid question. It's too embarrassing.

The redhead smile became even larger.

“Yeah…”

And just as he was about to add something else, one of the staff called Ian to go back and he hurriedly turned to Mickey and said quickly, “Oh, uh, see ya later then, gotta go.”

---------------

I'm glad I finally wrote and drew this. This idea has literally taken over my head so much that I don't have the energy to write Ian's backstory in the same way. Once again I am convinced that writing is hard work. And I want to say again about my love for writers. YOU ARE INCREDIBLE. For my brain, drawing is easier than writing. But it was fun!

!!!AND!!! THE MOST IMPORTANT THING! If someone suddenly wants to write a big multi-chap slowburn fic or little drabble or do anything, I'll be happy so much with absolutely anything!!

---------------

Let's talk about Ian now. I was actually going to write a backstory for him too. Maybe at least some minor notes, but I'm not quite sure how best to connect his bipolar with racing. Usually because racers drive go-karts from childhood, get into the junior league and generally build a racing career for years. Maybe he had a breakdown somewhere between seasons and it was quickly noticed?? I don’t know… And I think about how the team constantly checks him, which at times upsets him and forces him to prove to everyone that he is fine and able to drive the car.

Most likely, in this AU, Gallaghers are either rich, or Ian has a sponsor, if you know what I mean… From this fact, a whole lot can change in story. And the second thing seems more likely to me.

I was thinking about how Ian joined the McLaren team at the age of 21, and by the time he first met Mickey he was 22. He had been stable for a long time on medication.

So I'm also considering the possibility that somewhere between his 17-19 years he disappeared from the radar and came back when he found a sponsor who could pay for everything he needed and help him get into the F1 league. At first it was the weakest team, until his potential was noticed and he was offered to move to another team. This fact with the sponsor will probably put a lot of spokes in the wheels (ha).

Racer's body is undergoing an enormous physical strain, so they spend a lot of time in the gym. And Ian really enjoys working out with his team.

Another interesting fact: racers have a super-strong neck to be able to cope with gravitational forces during the race. Therefore, special attention is paid to neck in training. (It seems from the moment I found out this my little fixation began…)

---------------

I think there's a lot of pining here or something. They seem to be nearby, but due to different job responsibilities, at completely distinct levels. And I really want to read something like this with so slow burning.

So, I guess you can consider this as a big prompt for writing, if it inspires you.

Thanks for reading! <3

[benzendrine-nosebleed]

"A Prayer On His Lips, A Hail Mary in his Hips (Formerly 'Forgive, Me Father') PART 3!!

So, it's been a hell of a week since I uploaded part 2, and I just gotta say, I've really been enjoying getting back into the Tumblr scene and enjoying being a fangirl again and not actually being ashamed of it! I've been so much happier lately writing something I'm passionate about, and my Fiancé is happy that I'm comfortable enough to write my dumb little heart out every day. I've written somewhere around 30k words in the past month, and that's way more than I've written in the past, so from the bottom of my heart, thanks guys. I love your support, and your love for my fics. I have another one in the works too, but I don't know when I'll put it out yet.

Anyways, I had actually named this story "A Prayer on His Lips, a Hail Mary in His Hips" but forgot to name it that when I posted the first part. So, without further ado, Part 3!

Info: 4900 words long, ABSOLUTELY NSFW, enjoy and let me know if you'd want a part 4!

Is that was I am, Father? A lost, wayward lamb?” I asked playfully, still seated before him. The sun had shifted in the sky, filling the room with golden rays trying to catch a peek at us, basking in the sins of the flesh.

“Y’are,” he mumbled, smirking. “But I like that a lot, it makes me want to teach ya things. I want to show you The Shepard, it makes me want to bring ya to the herd. I wanna see you every week, kneeling before the cross, before me as I deliver flesh to your pretty lips again.”

“Oh, you’ll see me kneeling Father. I’ll be in the front pew, kneeling just like this,” I motioned to myself, perking up as his gaze freely wandered up and down my body, “Praying for the sins I’ll want to keep committing.”

His eyes lifted to mine again, a grin growing on his face as he came down from his high. His hand came off of his thigh, lifting my chin to meet his face. His fingertips were gentle on my chin as he brought my nose to his, the tips gently touching as he whispered. “You’re gonna be the best little Catholic girl, and I’m gonna be the biggest sinner for you, babe. He, He knows temptation all too well, and he should know that since I’m a man, just a human on the earth he’s crafted with his own fingertips,” His fingertips shifted on my chin to accentuate his point, “I will inevitably sin again. I will repent for the original sin for the rest of my life, but there is more to life than begging for forgiveness over and over again.”

I noticed as the accent he had developed after cumming down my throat slipped away, leaving me to hear the Catholic Preacher again, rather than the needy servant who desired more. I, desired more of that accent, the blissful state he was in when I had my lips wrapped around him, I wanted to see who he’d be with his godly cock pressed into my stomach, that warm feeling of him spilling into me for the first time. That was something Catholics were known for, right? No protection?

“There is so much to life outside the church, Father. I’ve seen the most beautiful things travelling, things you deserve to see too. But, I’ve discovered something that has made me want to begin coming here.” I could feel my breath bounce off of his face and back to mine, our noses still grazing each other. A few stray hairs from his mustache tickled my lips. “I found something to worship.”

“You have, huh?”

“Father, until you show me there is a God, I’m gonna be worshipping you, Each, little, inch of your skin, I wanna taste like communion.”

He pulled away sharply, his chest rising and falling with each hearty breath. “Me, huh? You wanna taste me, worship me like I’m the Holy Father himself? You don’t know what you’re going to do to me...”

“Yes, Father, I do. I want to wrap that rosary around my hands again, and kneel at your feet while I praise you...”

His eyes shifted away, staring at the crucifix hanging on the wall. “ I need you, Y/N... I need you in the ways that are condemned for a man who is married to the church... As the head priest, I have to hold an image for the congregation, to keep them from being led astray. You, you’ve made me break my vows...” His fingers moved to the sides of my jaw, pressing in sharply. “ That is a sin only you can repent for... I’m damned for eternity.”

His tone had changed to something more serious, something unsettling. There was an anger in him that was brewing, yet he held it at bay. I feared more at the control he had over his own emotions than what he was going to do about them. “I’m, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to come here to have you break your vows. I just, I wanted to find an answer to my problems.” His fingers kept pressing into my jaw, his other hand moving now to wrap around my head once more.

“You’ll need to give penance, you wayward babe. You’ll confess at the front of the church, kneeling on the steps of the altar. Only then, can I begin to give you any sort of absolution for what you’ve done to me.” He released his tightened grip on me, swiftly walking to his computer and turning it on. His hearty stride shook the room as I sat in front of the loveseat still, worried for what any of this meant.

“The Lord, he teaches us about not exacting revenge, the he does not need man to have vengeance, to fight eye for an eye.” His computer chimed as he logged in, moving to some program on there. He opened the application, and I watched as the surveillance system for the church was pulled up on the screen.

“What are you talking about?” I asked hurtfully, lost in his ramblings. “Revenge? Because I made you break your vows? I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean to.”

“He asks us to turn our cheek, to love them with all of our merciful heart,” he continued. “Revenge is motivated by the anger, the pain and fear of man. However, justice is motivation through the heart of His.” The cameras all went black with a few clicks of his mouse. “I want to exact revenge, to break you as you’ve broken me. I’ve learned though, to both love and feat The Holy Father. I need to show you the same love, and fear for me.”

I turned around to fully look at him, trying to understand his preaching still. “Father? I don’t know what you’re trying to say. What do I have to do?”

He shot up from his chair, striding back over to me. “You need to repent for your sins, and be a good girl for the church. You’re going to the altar right now to repent.” He leaned down, grabbing my arm and helping me up. “You’re going to repent for your sins, Y/N, and I’m going to be giving you absolution.” He was gentle with his grasp, but rushing me. I stood up, standing toe-to toe with him. His naked frame loomed over me, his chest heaving with each breath, his throat pumping with each gasp.

“Like this?” My breath fastening. He wanted me to go the altar, no more clothed than the day I was born, to repent for my sins?

“Yes, Now,” He growled, He snarled, his teeth showing as his insatiable eyes ran up and down me. “You’re going to worship The Father, beg him for salvation, beg him to give you what you need.” He reached other and grabbed his crucifix off of the loveseat. He swiftly picked me up, cradling me up to his chest, his sweaty musk mixed with his cologne, completely encompassing me in his holy fury.

He opened the locked door, pacing into the empty hallway. “You remember how to pray?” He asked, his footsteps hitting the ground faster.

“I’m pretty sure I do, Father,” I replied, my heart beating out of my chest. My senses heightened as we moved to the entrance to the sanctuary, the heavy wooden doors were closed.

“Good, because you’re going to be quizzed on it, and I’ll be grading how well you do.” He reached out his arm that held my knees for the handle, gently opening the doors to the darkened sanctuary, where we first had met in the confessional booth no more than an hour or two earlier.

The sanctuary was dark, the only light came pouring in through the stained glass motifs, gently illuminating the pews and altar. There was something so sacred of seeing the place of worship in the darkness, knowing not too many people go to see the Holy Father like this. The colors through the stained glass glazed the floors, the podium, the cross at the back of the altar: it took my breath away. Father Schlatt moved suavely down the pews, his body almost floating with delicacy as he honored the holy space, like he’d done for years prior. He held my body close to him again, his reverence for his place of reverence flowing out of him He stoically walked to the altar, softly whispering prayers.

He gently kneeled at the altar, letting me out of his arms. I moved to stand up, longing for his touch now, again. It felt wonderful being held so close to him, how his warm body wished to protect me, even after what had transpired. I had ruined this man’s vows to God, and yet he was gently with me, through gritted teeth.

“Kneel, right here,” He spoke. He was stern, yet the disappointment I had expected to hear in his voice was gone. “Face the cross, and pray out loud. I want to hear you beg for forgiveness, beg The Father to save you.”

“Yes, Father.” I quivered, kneeling next to him. I pressed my knees into the carpeted step, and moved to clasp my hands in front of myself, picturing how his hands were earlier. I kneeled my head, reciting the prayer. “Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be Thy Name.” Fuck, after this, the prayer gets blurry. I remember the sound of the locking door, the sound of him gracefully kneeling before me, between my legs..

“Keep going,” He stood up, leaving me alone at the altar. I heard him move behind me.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, as on earth, as in Heaven-“ SMACK. A sharp pain shot across my back.

“On Earth, as in Heaven,” He growled.

“On Earth as in Heaven.” My back grew hotter where he had struck it. “Give us this day, our daily bread, and forgive us.” I closed my eyes tightly, bracing for the sharp pain again. When it didn’t come, I raced to continue through the prayer. “Forgive us, our trespasses-“ SMACK. The searing pain shot through my back again, causing me to shoot out a small cry. I felt the tears welling behind my eyelids.

“You only say ‘Forgive us’, one time. ‘Give us, this daily bread, and forgive us, our daily trespasses.’”

“I-I’m Sorry Father, Forgive us, our daily trespasses.”

“Good girl. Keep. Going.” He loomed behind me, the mere presence of his tall figure, now whipping me, scared me... yet I felt that he was punishing me in a way that excited him. I could only picture him standing tall, cock hard, the tip pressed against the trail I ran my tongue down, I needed more. If I had to put up with the pain of him whipping me, so be it. I needed to see The Father, in all of his glory, in the iridescence of the stained glass, beheld by the cross.

“As we forgive those who trespass against us.” I braced again, waiting for the stinging whip, which didn’t come. “And deliver us from evil, Amen-“ WHACK. A guttural whimper left me as I leaned forward to the next step of the altar step, the now familiar pain searing across my back.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. You poor, little lamb.” He sternly spoke, his voice deepening. “You forgot the leading into temptation...” I could hear him shift behind me, his body dropping to the floor. “Finish the prayer.”

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil... Amen.” I cried, the tears falling down my face now.

“Amen,” His hands moved to the my sides, as he spoke softly and soothingly against my back by the whip marks. He pressed gently kisses into them. “Good girl, you took that well. But, you forgot one thing.”

“What, Father?” I pleaded, the tears slowing down while I continued to kneel into the steps.

“You forgot what is supposed to be in your hands. How did they feel, whipped against your back?” Oh my god, the rosary.

“I completely forgot, Father, I’m sorry...” I moaned out now, the heat in their whip marks still pulsing against my back.

“Oh, you’re never going to forget them again, are you?”

“No, No Father, I won’t.”

“Good,” He grunted, his left hand, still gripping the rosary against me moved down my side, cupping my ass. The beads felt cool against my skin now, while his fingers dug into the soft tissue. “You made me break my vows to The Lord, so in return, as a justice, I need to break you. I’m going to whip you into being a good little Catholic Girl, just for me. You’re going to worship me,” His hand slid up my back to my hip, bringing it around gently to my slit. His other hand moved to my neck, pulling it up against him. My back was pressed to his chest, his rosary laden hand beginning to run its fingers up and down me, grazing my clit with each pass. I softly moaned each time he did, while his head craned down into my neck.

“You said you were going to worship me as if I was the Holy Father himself, didn’t you? Well, you’re going to be worshipping The Father now. You’re going to be using those lips for a lot more than praying.” He sunk his teeth into me, causing me to shudder and a small whimper to leave me.

“aaaaAh! Mmh, Father, yes, Yes Father” I moaned out, my clasped hands moving behind me to hold onto his thighs. I could feel the whipped skin pressed against him, the hot flesh pressed against him was tender and hurt, but it was something I was willing to embrace again, if it meant he’d be pleasing me.

“Good Girl,” He breathed out, his fingers painstakingly slow against me. I grew wetter with each stroke, his fingers finding my clit on his own accord. His middle finger slowly twitched against it as my stomach clenched and my body pulsated. My moans turned pleasurable as he brought me closer to my own orgasm. As my voice began to peak in tone, he slowed down, “Oh, Y/N, I’m not going to make you feel pleasure until I can show you what you do to me. I’m going to show you a world as if it was made just for you, like I crafted it for you with my own hands, as The Holy Father did for those who follow him.” He slid a finger inside of me, the cross on the rosary pressed against my slit as he moved his finger in and out slowly, reveling in the feeling himself.

“Father, p-p-please,” I begged, his finger exploring the inner walls of my pussy. “I need more of you... anything, please.” What the hell was he doing to me, to make me turn into such a slut for him as soon as he made a move?

“Mmph, I don’t know, are you deserving of the salvation?” He asked, his palm pressed the cross against my clit, and yet in a sick, twisted way, I was finding pleasure in it, while his finger worked on getting me wetter with its gentle rhythm, in, out, in, out. “Or should I see that you’re damned? I’m torn, I wanna save ya, but you make salvation seem so, so far out of reach when you beg like that.” Oh Christ, the accent came back.

“Fath, oh god... Father, oohhfff,” I moaned out, pressing back into him, begging for more of his touch. More, of his tantalizing touches, anything for more of him in me.

“Mmph, I think I could save ya, as for myself, maybe not. I’m already damned, so why not go all the way?” He asked, smiling as his tongue worked flicked my ear. “I think I wanna taste ya, ya sweet sinner. You’ve been so good for me, letting me whip you with the rosary, letting me tease ya with it... I’ll be wrapping it around those praying hands again soon enough. Just you wait.” His grip released on my neck, and he placed it on my hip. His other hand pulled out of me, the sensations of his teases leaving me desperate for his touch again. He moved that hand to my hip, as he picked me up with ease. “Turn around, and sit on the floor of the altar, mmkay?”

“Yes, yes Father,” The pounding in my chest echoed into my ears, as I shuffled up the two stairs to the floor of the altar, sitting facing him. I placed my hands on my knees, awaiting his next command.

“Good. Now,” He placed his hands on top of mine on my knees, “We’re just gonna spread these pretty legs apart,” His hands gently pressing into mine, while his body leaned in closer. “I’ve never done this before, but, God, I know I need to taste ya.” He parted my buckled knees apart, his mouth slightly agape as he watched me become exposed. I felt vulnerable, but safe, somehow. “You... oh, look at you,” He whispered, his right hand leaving my knee to run up and down my slit. I could feel the heat in my cheeks rising, my breath falling deeper into my chest as he slowly worked his pointer and middle finger between the folds. I threw my head back, the fire in his touch already being so hard to handle. Moans left my lips, and my hands fled my knees to the altar floor, desperately trying to hold myself up while he explored.

His left hand still pressed my knee to open, pressing it almost to the floor, antsy to keep my legs open while he worked up his own courage to dig in. His right hand moved up to his mouth, and I watched at this once holy man licked his fingers clean of the film I left on his fingertips. “Oooh, mmph, The Lord made ya so, so delicious. I need more, babe.”

Before I had a chance to catch my breath, he pressed his face into my pussy, his nose resting right above it. He began licking my folds, his right hand immediately moving to hold my right down as I tried to bring it up against his face, bucking from the sensations. I threw myself onto the floor of the altar, lost in the sensations of The Father’s Holy Tongue.

“Oh Fuck!” I exclaimed, all filter I had leaving as his tongue worked with my hips, now rocking against his face.

He pulled away, smiling deviously as he licked his lips. I watched as he caught his breath, his hands still pinning me to the floor. “I forgot, I’m sorry, I was too excited to taste you, Babe, I should’ve realized I’d be drinking you up,” He spoke sweetly, moving to bow his head, speaking just above a whisper. “Bless me, Lord, for these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy Bounty. Through you, Christ our Lord, Amen.” He snarled after finishing his prayer, the devious smile returning as his head raised, and moved back into me. I couldn’t help but whimper, his face felt so good pressed up against my slit, his tongue working to bring me to an orgasm so easily. I brought my left hand up to his hair, and pulled his head up softly. “..uhff fuck... there Baby, right there,” I moaned out, guiding his tongue to my clit. His eyes shot up to meet mine, glazed over with unbelievable pleasure. He continued to lick ferociously at my clit, and lifted his right hand from my leg, bringing it down to his mouth, and taking a quick lick across his thumb as he rubbed me right below where his tongue worked wonders.

His tongue worked tirelessly against me, bringing me closer to an orgasm, when his left hand moved off of my leg, and he moved to down to his cock, surely throbbing with pleasure by now. He groaned as he stroked himself with his left hand, his right hand and tongue focused on making me squirm. Slews of moans, pleas, and whimpers escaped me. “Fath-mmm, Fath-er... pl...please... more... mmm, my God..., so, so fucking good...” For having no experience with any sort of intimacy, Father Schlatt must have brought in his expertise from his priesthood to bring me unholy pleasure. Was it from flipping through pages of the scripture that he learned to move his fingers so precisely? Or was it from daubing Holy Water on church-goers how he learned to press just the right amount of pressure to my flesh? I tried to think as I moaned out words, sounds, anything to keep me from reaching an orgasm just yet.

I brought my thighs up to the side of his face, feeling his soft sideburns rub against my tender thighs. They rubbed softly with each of his licks. They felt almost ticklish against my skin, but I couldn’t help but crave more of their feeling against my skin while he stoked his tongue, but his pointer finger gently moved against the length of my pussy his thumb was once grazing, as he wetted his pointer finger, and slid it into me, causing me to gasp in the midst of my moans. “mmmh oh... aH! Schatt!” Oh Fuck!” I cried out, my hips sinking down into his hand.

He pulled away softly from his ministrations against me to speak out. “You taste so, so good, I don’t wanna believe that The Lord has been keeping this from me... Unless he was just waiting to bring ya to me... Maybe he made you just for me... you feel so, so perfect on my tongue, on my fingers, toots.” Toots? Okay, that’s a new one, but I... I can’t focus on that now... not with how he’s finger fucking me. “Maybe he made you just to ruin me...” He coaxed, his finger now curling inside in a tauntingly sensual way. I breathed out a sharp wail, my body burning wildly for how he teased me, how much I needed his teachings. In an instant, he learned forward, his twitching cock now grazing at my entrance, where his finger slid out. His rosary laden hand intertwined with my hand on the floor, pinning it above my head. His hips slowly moved himself against my pussy, the slow, teasing stroked causing whimpers and guttural moans alike to leave both of us.

“Father... Are you sure?” I asked. my hips however, moving against him, feeling how hot, how ready he was to fuck me.

“I, I need to.. I need to make you mine, in the eyes of The Lord.” His hips moved against mine as well. The friction was unbearable, it was too perfect to pass up the opportunity. Father Schlatt leaned down next to my ear, slowing his rhythm. “Babe, I need to pray, and I need you to pray with me. You’re not gonna know the words, but close your eyes, and keep those pretty little moans quiet for a moment, ‘kay?”

“Mhmm,” I murmured, squeezing my eyes shut and gripping his hand tighter.

“Hail Mary Full of Grace, The Lord is with Thee.” His breath grew hotter against my skin. “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of the womb, Jesus.” His tongue grazed my earlobe, he gently nibbled on it. His hand that stroked his cock stopped, instead it began pressing the tip to my now slick entrance. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, in the hour of our death. Amen,” He finished the prayer quietly, taking a second to listen to my breaths.

“Amen,” I spoke gently, opening my eyes to meet his. His mouth was still open from his prayer, his head gently nodding at his subconscious request. I nodded back, my lips parted too from my final “Amen.”

He pressed his hips forward, the tip of his cock paving the way for the rest of his shaft to enter me. He was slow, merciful, yet he shot daggers through my eyes, while his fingers tightened around the ones he laced them with, pressing the beads into my hand. All breath escaped my chest as I felt him penetrate me, being gentle as to not overwhelm himself. I whimpered, attempting to savor the gentle movements. Every nerve ending was on fire, begging for his length to keep pushing, to keep moving, to keep the friction going. He pulled his cock mostly out, leaving just the tip in, and slowly worked himself back in, pressing farther in this time. He kept this slow rhythmic torture up until he found a pace where he could control himself.

With each thrust, I couldn’t help but whimper, the feeling of him stretching me was so, so fucking good. His body was ragged; sweat poured down him as he refrained from racing, savoring each sinful moment. “You, you feel so good,” He groaned “too, too good. God I’m gonna, I’m gonna... if I go any faster,” His hand had moved to my hip, gently guiding me back to his with each of his pulsing thrusts.

“F-Father, you, you feel so good, too,” I whimpered, taking each of his thrusts, feeling his cock deep in my belly.

He continued his painstakingly slow pace, driving me crazy as his he focused his energy into keeping his mind busy. “Babe... you.. oh, oh God..” he cried out, his hand gripping deeper into my thigh, almost tearing through my flesh as his fingernail dug in deeper. “I need... more... of you...” He pleaded, his thrusts still slow, yet slamming into my hips eagerly.

His thrusts into me were calculated, his own body pressing his need further into me as I craved every inch of him. “Mmm, Baby, you feel so fucking good in me,” I cried through gritted teeth. My hand embraced the press of the rosary beads into it, the feel of him learning how to make love, I felt high on his lust, and still grounded by his religion. I looked up at him to see his once pomaded hair was strewn, stringy with sweat, and was moving into his eyes, bouncing with his rhythm. He gazed into me, his mouth parted, as he crashed into my lips for a searing kiss. Our tongues mingled frantically as his pace continued slowly, steadily.

I moved our hands from above our heads while we tangled tongued, bringing his rosary laden hand to my clit, and pressing his fingers into it, mimicking the motions I would use to please myself. I couldn’t help but realize, the he was such a fast learner, pressing his thumb against my clit and teasing it fast while his thrusts moved faster. “Baby, fu-uck! You’re gonna make me cum on you,” I pleaded, torrential wave of pleasure flowing through me with each flick from his thumb.

His hips slammed into mine, as I reached my own orgasm on his cock, clenching down on him, and feeling everything on a high. His cock felt hot in me, my belly warm, my clit tender and spent, and my legs were shaking. I couldn’t focus on anything past his head being thrown back, and the feeling of hips pressed against my inner thighs. His guttural moans and the sight of him were through tunnel vision as my mind grew fuzzy. Did he say ‘pussy’? Wait, did he cum in me? Oh... well... fuck... fuck it felt... good...

He looked at me as he continued to hasten his pace, his breaths growing more erratic. His eyes shot right through me, his gaze darkened and fully corrupted. “God, your pussy was made just for me... He made it just for me to ruin myself- in- Mmmhh,” He grunted, I couldn’t tell anymore what was throbbing with each stroke, I could only focus on the clenched muscles in my abdomen, on yhe brink of an orgasm like no other I had felt before. “I’m gonna ruin you too,” he blurted out, looking down at his thumb, steadily torturing me, and pulled his thumb away for just long enough for himself to spit on my clit, and race to work his spit in while his cock swelled. His body tensed while his moans grew audibly. “I-mmh-aah-aaahh,” He moaned out, practically yelling by the end of it.

His fingers held onto my hips as he slowly pulled his spent cock out of me, his entire body convulsing in waves as his tip entered the cooler air again. “Oh God... oh Christ, anyone... oh whoever is up there,” he moaned, his words lingering through the drawls escaping him. He fell forwards onto the altar floor next to me, recovering from him pleasuring me too. “Thank you,” He moaned out. All I could do is smile, looking at the heap he fell into next to me. The gentle sunlight refracted off of the cathedral glass to glaze over him with soft hues of blues, reds and greens. We laid there for what seemed like an eternity, catching our breaths, the thought of our damnation never once crossing our pleasured minds.

[memescomicswriting]

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Chapter 4: You Weren't Mine To Lose

Summary: Fate is cruel on how it goes about obtaining its desires. It must be fate, because there is no other explanation for how perfectly molded Y/N and Helaena are to one another. They complement one another like opposite sides of a coin. Where Helaena is shy, Y/N is outgoing. Helaena has a photographic memory. Y/N has emotional inteligence. They have the right temperament to be the missing piece in one another’s lives. Ying and Yang. Then there are the boys. Love them or hate them, they’re there. Even the adults cannot escape the Targaryen chaos, and the fallout doesn’t spare the minors simply because they’re adolescents. Follow how Y/N and those around her carve out lives for themselves amongst the weight of the Targaryen legacy in a modern Westeros.

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairings: Aegon x Y/N, Aemond xY/N, hints of Jace x Y/N, Platonic! Helaena x Y/N, Father Figure! Harwin x Y/N, Mother Figure! Rhaneyra x Y/N, Mother Figure! Alicent x Y/N

Warnings: 18+ you’ve been warned

Lots of profanity, sexual innuendos, drug and alcohol use, boys being stupid jerks, infidelity, divorce, eventual smut

A/N 1: Chapters drop on Thursdays. Please, please, please, please share your thoughts. I wanna hear them. I don't bite, promise! Also, I lied about this chapter being signifigantly shorter. I reodered some parts for the story to flow better. Oops, sorry! This is for my Aemond girlies. My Aegon girlies, you'll have your turn soon.

Sereies Masterlist

Aegon pulled Y/N along by her mitten covered hand. It was winter, a harsh one. They were walking down a secluded trail, as the sun set, and old browning snow blanketed the ground. It was scenic. It was freezing.

“I swear to the gods, Aegon Targaryan, if you dragged me out here for some dumb prank or to try and make a pass at me then I’m going to-” She could see her breath as she huffed at him.

“Do what?” He was giddily mischievous today. Her annoyance only fueled his fun. She’d quit her whining once he revealed their reason for being out in the cold. Until then, he enjoyed her frustration.

“I’ll post that video of your Risky Business impersonation on my throwback Thursday.” It was a smug, looming threat- one she only brought out when she couldn’t think of anything he’d done recently. It was a video of him at thirteen practicing for a costume party. He thought the outfit made him appear cool and mature. That was, until he slid a little too far, lost his footing, and face planted. Y/N was recording for him to review his performance. She saved the video to five different locations before he could fight her for her phone.

Aegon shot her a dirty glare. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” She tilted her head in that annoying, dareful way that made his skin itch.

“Fine.” He dropped her hand. He continued walking, but backwards so he could face her. “No high for you.” He turned and sped up his pace which forced her into a light jog to follow.

“High?” She questioned. Smoking Ashai root, or Shairo as it was called, was something Y/N brought up to Aegon months ago. As a freshman in high school, she felt mature and wanted to partake in the fun, just like how she now attended the parties. Of course Aegon of all people had a connection. She smelled the bottles of body spray he used to cover the scent.

“Yup.” He popped the word to accentuate his nonchalant persona. “Snitches don’t get prizes.”

“It’s technically not snitching.” Y/N mumbled under her breath. She’d caught up to Aegon by this point and tugged on his arm. “Why do we have to go out this far though? Why couldn’t we have just gone in the backyard.”

“And give Aemond the opportunity to snitch, huh!” He shook his head at her naivety.

“Ugh, fine, but isn’t this far enough?” “Gotta get to the clearing.”

“The clearing?” “You’re a green little girl. What if you crash out after your first hit? Gotta place you somewhere stationary.”

“Fuck you!”

“If that’s how you’d like to repay this kind gesture, I won’t complain.”

They’d stopped at a rather decrepitated set of tree stumps. It was one of the smaller clearings. In a fit of dramatics, Y/N crossed her arms and took a seat like he so rudely suggested.

“Good girl.” This made Y/N roll her eyes. She watched as Aegon took out a long, skinny roll, of what looked like wax paper from his pocket. He held it between his lips as he sparked the lighter, cupping it to secure the flame from the wind. Y/N watched intently. She wanted to know what to do so she wouldn’t look inexperienced when asked at a party. There was something about the way Aegon’s brows knit or his low grumble in annoyance. Y/N’s lips curved into a lazy crescent smile. He was almost endearing. Aegon’s eyes flicked from their half lidded concentration and landed on her. The roll was lit and he was emitting puffs of smoke.

“Have I ever told you how hot you look when you’re speechless, looking up at me with those dopey eyes.” And the moment was gone. Aegon was in a fit of giggles, dodging Y/N’s ire. He waved the roll above her head until she calmed down. Then he handed it over, showing what part to hold to her lips, and directed her to sit.

Y/N inhaled in as he instructed. The smoke burned her throat and lungs as she suckled on the roll. She coughed in little spouts as she tried to hold it down. Smoke poured out her nose by the end.

“Well, you’re definitely part Valyrian.” Aegon settled. “You didn’t choke nearly as bad as I’ve seen and the smoke pouring out your nose made you look like a dragon.”

“I get the purpose.” Y/N was struggling with her release of the second inhale. “But how do you enjoy this part?”

Aegon shrugged. “You just get used to it I guess. It becomes familiar and then kinda comforting.” He took the shairo from her so he could partake as well.

“And then we do what?”

“Relax, enjoy, hangout…”

“In the middle of the woods, when it’s freezing?”

“I’ll admit, it isn’t the most ideal place this time of year, but where would we go? I don’t have a car yet.”

“What about those gummy things I’ve seen people take?”

“Nah, you’re going about it the old school way like the best of us. I would be a poor bad influence if I didn’t give you the full experience.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. That was Aegon’s new thing. Yeah, he was popular in his class. How could he not be? He had all the right clothes, and socials, and the Targaryen status. It was just for his class though. To appear cooler to anyone older and to attract admiration from those younger, Aegon adopted the bad boy moniker. It wasn’t successful with Y/N. She’d seen him cry over animals in movies. He couldn’t appear aloof after that.

“So we just hang out.” She accepted.

“You’re stuck with me.” He mulled it over. “Till we get hungry. Then we rejoin society to raid a fridge.”

Y/N nodded. “Uh, my place. ‘Cause I don’t fancy Alicent’s bird food.”

“Ditto.” Aegon quickly replied.

After that, getting high became their thing. Before that, it was passively scrolling on their phones, but Y/N did that with Helaena as well. No, for the first time Aegon had something only he could do with Y/N. He’d often save up allowance and lunch money for these purchases. His excuse to have her all to himself. He wasn’t sure why he did it. Half the time he didn’t realize he was doing it.

The weather was warmer now and swimming in the lake was a possibility. Y/N was with Helaena for the weekend, but Helaena was indisposed for the moment. One of her insects, or maybe it was an arachnid, was acting strangely. Y/N couldn’t tell the difference, but she’d mumble agreements every now and then to Helena. Really, she was left to lay idle until her friend was done. 

Aegon knocked on the doorframe of Helaena’s room. Helaena glanced at the disturbance but did not acknowledge him. Y/N, however, silently addressed him. Aegon held two fingers up to his lips, their signal. Y/N nodded and hopped off Helena’s bed. She began putting on her sneakers in preparation for the walk ahead.

“I’m gonna go on a quick walk while you finish up.” Y/N spoke to her best friend who waved her off. She figured Helaena had to know what they were going to do, but she really didn’t care so long as it didn’t interfere with her plans.

The pair walked down the stairs as warily relaxed as they could be. They still had that teenage anxiety of being busted by a parent. Much like a drunk person trying to prove they aren’t intoxicated, they were a bit off.

They made it out the door, but not down the driveway. Alicent and Aemond had arrived home from tourney practice. Y/N and Aegon exchanged a look- proceed with caution. Alicent paid little mind to the two cagey teenagers seemingly going on walk. Nothing a teenager should care about was nearby. Yes the lake, but a lake day without proper accouterments wasn’t something society born Alicent could comprehend. Aemond though, he knew better.

He wasn’t oblivious. The thick, weighted smell was easily remembered. No matter the amount of perfume or cologne sprayed, the oder remained pungent. Yes, they could slip past the adults to change, but they almost always encountered Aemond. He didn’t hate the idea of getting high. He wasn’t a prude. It was the intentional exclusion from Aegon and Y/N’s compliance that drew his contempt. He was too young, wouldn’t understand, couldn’t handle it. Well, he was as mature as the rest of them. In some ways, more than Aegon. So it rubbed the wrong nerve. Aegon had something with Y/N that he couldn’t, whether he actively knew it or not. Of course Aemond would never snitch on Y/N. Aegon alone, absolutely. So rather than alerting his mother, he played her to his advantage in a subtler way.

“Mother, since tonight is the live premiere, can we order pizza for supper? I’m sure Heleana and Y/N would appreciate it as well as I.” Aemond’s tone had become rather haughty lately. He always had an advanced grasp on his language skills, but the older he became his readings increased in intensity. Often, it reflected in his superior attitude.

He caught Y/N’s attention with the use of her name. Yes, she’d come over to watch a new Valaryian documentary with Helena and Aemond, but the release was scheduled for tomorrow.

Y/N and Aegon exchanged their confusion. “I thought that was tomorrow night.”

“Oh it is,” Aemond quickly elaborated. “However, the exclusive live exploration of the archeological site is tonight. Father agreed to purchase the viewing rights.”

Smug, that’s how Aegon would describe his brother’s countenance in perceived triumph. Aegon’s eyes narrowed, making it clear that he knew what his brother was up to. Aemond held his own, showing he knew his brother knew and didn’t care.

Before more words were exchanged, Alicent sighed her approval without looking up from her phone. The entire practice she’d sat on the sidelines scrolling reviews for exercise classes and personal trainers. “Whatever you like dear, but I expect you all to eat a healthy bit of salad along with it.”

“Of course, mother.” Aemond held a delightful innocent grin as his mother passed by to enter the house. Once she slipped inside, the facade dropped. Ignoring his brother’s seething, he addressed Y/N directly. “I’ll make myself presentable and then we can set up.” 

“You go make yourself presentable, pretty boy.” Aegon didn’t hide the condensation he felt from his tone. “You can primp all you like while we walk, then you can watch whatever you like.”

Aegon went to take Y/N’s hand and pull her along. The stand off looked rather familiar. Similar to the battles they had as little children over a favored dragon stuffie. This time, Y/N was the toy being tugged from both ends. Much like the stuffend dragon, she felt little say in the battle of wills.

“Oh, but it starts in thirty minutes. Will your walk be that quick?”

“Record it.”

Aemond scoffed. “What’s the point of a live premier if you wait to watch the recording.”

Aegon pulled his free hand down his face in annoyance. “Forty-five minutes of delay and it’ll still be as insufferable as it was forty-five minutes before.”

“Then you miss out on the opportunity to submit inquiries in real time.”

“Oh no, whatever will you do if you can’t be one of thousands to submit the same stupid question about the same stupid rock?”

“It would be nice to participate.” Y/N slowly reclaimed her hand. Lately, she’d become inconsistent with the brothers. One moment she asserted her wants and left it up to them to follow. Another, she was demure and allowed them to go through their tense exchange. Maybe it depended on her reluctance to referee. Maybe she was caught between wanting to satisfy them both. Maybe it was something else.

“We can walk after.” Y/N offered as she gravitated towards Aemond.

Though it was reasonable, Aegon couldn’t allow his brother to be the top choice. “It’s now or never. I’ve got to meet up with Tarbeck and Redwyne later.” It was a lie, he had no plans, but if Y/N wouldn’t comply then he could always summon them and lick his wounds while shit-talking his family.

Aemond now acquired Y/N’s hand. Again, she was the toy being tugged. This time, Aemond was winning the competition by slowly escorting his prize up the front steps. “We’ll walk another time then.”

Y/N gave that apologetic grimace of sympathy that Aegon hated to be on the receiving end of. When he was the one it was directed at, it meant he’d lost. He hated losing, especially to his pompous prick of a brother. He gritted his teeth and groaned through them. He shoved his closed fists into his pockets and refrained from kicking at the grass. He didn’t want Aemonf to have the satisfaction of his temper. “Fine, fine, nerd out with the geeks. When you wanna have fun, maybe I’ll be around.”

Aegon’s angered surrender was enough satisfaction for Aemond. He and Y/N were in the house, so close to the finish line, Aemond allowed the glee to fill his stomach with butterflies. The celebration came too soon.

“Wait,” Aegon slyly feigned his acceptance. “Before I go, let me grab Helaena for you.” Both knew Helaena usually fed her pets around this time. That girl never broke her routines if she could help it.

Aemond hadn’t anticipated his brother having enough composure in his frustration to sabotage his plans. Underestimating Aegon would be his downfall. Helaena was feeding her pets which would take longer than Aemond needed. He also never told Helaena about the live premier, so she’d probably go straight into her drawing until dinner time. That would’ve left him and Y/N alone for over an hour. Aemond couldn’t help the strangled hum he let out. If he stopped Aegon, then it would raise questions he’d rather not answer. The arrogant little scholar couldn’t think of an escape from his own web.

“I’ll feed her little creepy crawlies since asking questions seems so important.” Aegon’s grin was a little too grandiose to avoid Y/N noticing something was up. Though she’d let it slide if nothing else came of it. Aemond recluded into his default lack of expression, signaling on the inside, all he wanted was murder.

“How generous of you, brother.” Aemond swiftly turned on his heel, retreating in the direction of his room. Gratified with his actions, Aegon added a bounce to his step on his way to retrieve Helaena. The lack of escalation allowed Y/N to convince herself it was all nothing.

…

The last party of the summer was as big of a blowout as the first. Maybe more so, because it was the final time a batch of overly privileged teens, who thought themselves invincible, let loose before parting for separate colleges. Y/N’s celebration into adulthood was no different. Helaena attended, though she spent more of her time enjoying the fire than the drinking or drugs. Or maybe she took the drugs and that’s why she enjoyed the fire so much. Aegon was off impressing soon to be freshman college girls with his seasoned university knowledge. Or whatever made it easier to get laid.

Aemond was the only challenge. Yes, he’d gone to parties countless times before. He even drank enough to be enjoyable during the first party of the summer. Somehow, at some point, his attitude towards their parties soured. He was grumpy and giving Y/N a hard time. She’d gotten him out of the house at least.

“If I need to be inebriated to enjoy their company, then I shouldn’t be expected to suffer their presence at all.” Aemond argued, but loyalty followed Y/N as they walked.

“You say that, but maybe it’s you who needs the alcohol to behave.” She quipped back, but he stopped and gave her a look that would intimidate many others. Not her. “Come on, Aemond, please? It’s the last time we can party together before I leave for school.”

Aemond crossed his arms and haughtily smirked. “You’ll be back.”

Y/N groaned. “Please, I’ll owe you a favor for your last party.”

Appearing reluctant, Aemond accepted her terms. Gaining his obedience always pleased Y/N. They made their way down the trail to the designated party spot. Everything was up and running. Hard liquor flowed from stolen and or purchased bottles. Many were over eighteen now; the legal age in Westeros. Someone even managed to drag a keg out. 

Y/N made a drink for herself and Aemond. For a while, they managed to stay together. Everything was just right for Aemond. Aegon was out of sight, out of mind. Jace found himself a Haroway or Hillden to entertain himself. Helaena was somewhat occupied. He had Y/N all to himself. She never contemplated how his arm draped over her shoulder or when he tugged on her waist. It was just Aemond, the boy who used to drag her by her hand to show whatever new book or poster he bought. Aemond, the boy who often fell asleep on her shoulder during long car rides. Aemond, her best friend's little brother. His touch meant little to her, but her touch meant everything to him.

Eventually, she slipped out of his grasp. She’d gone to refill her drink and stayed away; not intentionally. Aemond didn’t notice at first. He wasn’t irritated when he did. He had others he didn’t loathe talking to, but after a while he found himself longing to be near her again.

Y/N was a social butterfly. Like Aegon, she was at ease conversing with her targets. She’d gone group to group and addressed those she wanted to, but landed on Alana Rogar and Lance Tyrell. Both looked so tasty, she could eat them then and there for all to watch. She hadn’t a preference for either. If so lucky, she’d take both. Her flirting wasn’t subtle, but neither was theirs. When Alana leaned in and melted her mouth to Y/N’s, she felt like a lightning struck wildfire. Alana parted and did the same with Lance. Finally, Y/N and Lance greedily devoured each other. They only hummed in agreement when Alana announced she’d bring her off road dragonback to pick them up. Then they could have some real fun.

Y/N and Lance had no shame. Each groped at the other over and under clothing. Both had a need they wanted filled, and both were more than willing to help the other. Hands under shirts, red patches forming on collar bones, and the two walked in tandem towards the trail where Alana would pick them up. Lance pushed Y/N up against a tree. She preened at his roughness and returned the favor by grinding herself against his tented pants. Just as she was losing herself in the satisfying rock of their hips, she lost the feeling.

Lance stumbled steps back. Y/N opened her eyes to see Aemond be the force that pulled him. Somehow the angles of his face were sharper, casting deeper shadows, and appearing menacing.

“What the fuck man?” Lance tossed Aemond’s commanding hand off his shoulder. Aemond retaliated by pushing Lance further and standing between him and Y/N like a platinum haired wall.

“Think you're some caveman tough guy here to snatch up the girl.” Lance’s fists balled as he dared to be face to face with Aemond. The adrenaline from the carnal encounter was shifting to something lethally primal.

Aemond laughed maniacally for being disturbingly restrained. It further enraged Lance. “No, but I know a perverted bastard when I see one.”

Lance took a swing on Aemond. They were practically blended into the trees. Y/N couldn’t expect back up when separating the two. Aemond dodged and threw his own punch. Less intoxicated and more grounded, Aemond’s swing was faster, harder, and it connected. Lance didn’t stand a chance. He fell backwards onto his ass and rolled further back from the momentum of the fall. Aemond was very pleased with himself.

Y/N snapped out of her shock and went to help Lance up, to Aemond’s disapproval. She tried reassuring Lance by suggesting they just walk away, but he wasn’t interested anymore.

“No, this shit isn’t worth it.” He shrugged Y/N off. “Alana’s getting her four wheeler and I don’t have to joust some douche for her pleasure.” Y/N protested, but Lance stormed off to hide his wounded pride.

Y/N watched him leave. Enraged tears welled in her eyes. Like an electric current, the fury pulsed through her body, and in a quick pivot she slammed Aemond’s chest. It was his turn to be sent stumbling. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you.” Y/N roared. Aemond allowed her to push him again. “What in the seven hells is wrong with you!” She punctuated each of her last words with a shove.

Aemond caught her fists the final time and ended her physical tirade. “Lance Tyrell is a dickhead and you would have regretted going off with him.”

“Who gave you the right to make that call?” Y/N struggled against him.

“Don’t be stupid, you know I’m right.” Aemond faintly sneered and refused to let go.

Y/N roared. “Aemond.”

“I’m right!” He snapped, matching her volume and intensity. “You shouldn’t be entertaining guys like that.”

Y/N slipped her hands free by tugging downwards in one sharp motion. Her strength surprised Aemond. Her tone lessened in rage but grew in disgust. “That’s not for you to decide.”

Aemond grumbled under his breath. He refused to acknowledge that he indeed had no right to make that decision on her behalf. He wasn’t her father, brother, or boyfriend. Unfortunately, all he was, was Helaena’s younger brother.

Y/N was unsatisfied with his silence. “Why did you do that?” She was exasperated but refused his answer before he could give it. “No piss ass excuse. Why, Aemond?”

Aemond was pushed to his edge. First she dragged him here when he didn’t want to come to begin with, then she abandoned him, finally he finds her dry humping that ass wipe Lance Tyrell. It was more than Aemond could take. He was boiling over and she was at the fuel of his madness.

“I thought you were better than slutting yourself out to any guy who gave you a moment’s attention.” He sneered. “My mistake.” “Fuck. You.” Y/N slapped him. Aemond didn’t reject the hit. It reverberated in the night air. She was going to leave him, but her thoughts were too sharp not to let cut. “You give me your attention and yet I find sleeping with you repulsive. Must not be that much of a slut after all.”

She did her best to keep her head held high and suppress her tears. She didn’t want anyone at the party to make a fuss and ruin their fun. Aemond in turn let his frustrations out by screaming and kicking the dirt.

“You’re going to regret that.” Was all he could sputter out. Or maybe that was all she heard.

…

Time didn’t heal the wound. Yule was… icy. When Y/N and Aemond were forced in close proximity, a chill settled over the space. Eyes shot daggers made of icicles. Everyone noticed the obvious animosity between the two. Few addressed it.

Aegon, Jace, and Luke found humor in it when they could. Always away from Y/N. If she caught their remarks, she’d roast them alive over the Yule log. However, it was open season on Aemond. Sure he’d retaliate, but he’d never let it get out of hand and peak the curiosity of the elder adults. He wanted to continue the facade of the rift being a simple teenage squabble.

Aegon initiated the teasing. He was privy to the depth of the feud. Jace and Luke, sensing an opportunity to taunt the prick, joined in. Y/N would normally disperse the teasing before it got out of hand, but there was a void where Aemond’s best ally used to stand.

Aegon would ask, “Aemond, have you seen Y/N today?” Aemond would stiffen his posture and attempt a withering glare.

His response was always something like “No I haven’t,” or “You know I haven’t.”

Like sharks, Jace and Luke sensed the blood in the water. Aemond was uneasy about Y/N? Keep her around as often as possible. Invite her to partake in things Aemond enjoys. You’re going horseback riding? Let’s round everyone up and ride together.

Little jabs like, “You know who’s good at this? Lance Tyrell.”

“The Tyrell estate has great Yule lights. We should go check them out.”

“Guess who I saw today?”

Another favorite was, “You’ll regret that.” Though it was said in a jovial tone.

All hell broke loose, and the Targaryen estate turned into Thunderdome every time Aemond found a How to Talk to Girls pamphlet amongst his things. The hit list included: under his pillow, on top of his bed, inside the books he was reading, his car, and Vagar’s terrarium. Whichever boy was nearest received his tirade. The adults shrugged it off as boys pulling childish pranks.

…

Come summer break, Y/N, Helaena, and Aegon were due to return from university. Their college set up resided in storage units as their living arrangements differed in the fall. Out of brotherly love and duty- or Alicent’s behest, Aemond volunteered to help Helaena sort her belongings. He assumed Y/N wouldn’t turn down the free help, but gods she was as stubborn as him. Maybe she was prettier than stubborn. She had several well built members of the jousting league assist in moving her boxes. She made a display out of her sugar sweet compliments and feather light touches of gratitude. Aemond wanted to take a flamethrower and torch the world.

He tried to talk to her. She came back to the dorm for one final walk through and Aemond followed her out to her car. There wasn’t anyone or anything to buffer their interaction.

“You can’t stay mad at me forever.” Aemond hollered in her direction. He’d followed her out, but his footsteps hadn’t captured Y/N’s attention. She was unprepared for this. 

Y/N stood at the driver’s door of her car. Her keys tightened in her hands but she refused to face him or climb in the car to drive away. Aemond took the lack of fight as an invitation to approach. He got as far as a hand brushing her shoulder before Y/N became a tempest of withheld rage. “You haven’t given me a reason to forgive you. So I can and I will.”

Aemond scoffed, she was being immature. Or, she was the immature one, to him. “I’ve already apologized. It’s been nine months.”

Y/N’s scowl was one of disbelief. “No!”  He couldn’t be serious. “No you didn’t Aemond. An apology isn’t some ridiculously expensive Yule gift or a mumble in passing about how it wasn’t your best night.” She pushed his chest as she entered his space. Her temper radiated and forced him to take steps back. This was all too familiar. “An apology is an “I’m sorry. I fucked up. I let my jealousy blind me to my actions.” And then you make changes to your behavior that reflect your remorse. Ugh!”

She turned away once more. She couldn’t stand him. She wanted to return to their exile. The best she could do is withhold her gaze. Aemond was frozen, feet away on the asphalt as she made her final remark. “So no, you haven’t apologized.”

Aemond liked to think of himself as an unwavering, incorruptible pillar, but Y/N was a force of nature. She couldn’t always move him, but she could leave him battered and bruised. She was one of the few who could leave him uncomfortably still. She made him want to move, but somehow also pinned him in his place.

Helaena and Aegon returned to their childhood rooms. All Hightower-Targaryen children were together again. This go round, their parents were serene by comparison. It was agreed upon that until their youngest graduated college and was fully independent, they’d both reside on the estate but in separate wings. After that, Alicent would move out and move on. She’d always be welcome for family gatherings, obviously.

Y/N, true to her determination, claimed the pool house. Not much changed, just bed sheets and decor. The younger Targaryens and Velaryons gravitated to Y/N’s new set up. For one, there was the summer activity of the pool. The adults rarely made appearances in the pool house. It was unsupervised territory and there were snacks. It was a perfect impromptu clubhouse. When Y/N was over it, she’d kick them out till the next day- save Helaena.

That’s who she presumed was knocking on her door. The sun was setting and the sky turned all shades of pastel. Helaena was an unexpected delight. Y/N’d show her how far along she was in redoing the pool house. Helaena’d pick out a movie. Y/N would order something to be delivered. But it wasn’t Helaena at her door. It was Aemond.

Expensive wooden blinds covered the glass doors for privacy. Y/N couldn’t see Aemond lying in wait. When she swung the door open, ready with an open smile and a remark, everything faltered. Y/N’s mouth remained open, hung in surprise. Aemond dared turn up to her sanctuary, sneaking past the residents of the primary household, and stood as if he was an invited guest. In his hands rested a pizza box, a stack of favorite snacks, and the mini projector they used to use to watch vintage movies. 

For someone who strived to be Aegon’s opposite, he certainly shared the presumptuous smirk. They started using it as boys when they knew their mother wouldn’t follow through on whatever punishment she promised. Grown, it was reserved for when they pulled one over on the other, or they were certain they secured a girl’s attention. Y/N went to slam the door in his face. That smirk was gasoline to her fire. Aemond stopped her by nudging himself against the frame, preventing her momentum from gaining traction. 

His smirk faded into a gentle smile. “I know I fucked up and I know I should’ve made amends long ago. I couldn’t move past my pride and I see how ridiculous it- I was.”

Y/N remained mute but she stood aside to let him in. His eyes sparkled with hope. He looked around at the new set up. His heart panged in regret. He would’ve been here with her the last few days, setting up, but he missed the opportunity. Though different in appearance, the layout remained the same. He made his way to the kitchen and placed the peace offering on the counter. Y/N leaned against the archway that connected the kitchen to the living room. She was barefoot, in her pajama shorts, and an oversized university sweatshirt. Her usual sleeping attire.

She remained in place, arms folded and on guard. “If you haven’t noticed, your opinion means a lot to me. So those insults you freely discarded really took a dig at my self esteem.”

Something caught in Aemond’s throat. There was a deep seated urgency that drove his thoughts in quick succession. She valued his opinion. That was something he had yet to consciously think of, or maybe he did and his subconscious couldn’t believe it. It clouded his mind with unpinnable anxiety. She never required him to earn her consideration. She gave it freely and he dashed it’s worth against the rocks. She hadn’t clung to her anger. She clung to her hurt. Everything fell into place, he never needed to wait out or cool her fury. He had to bandage the wounds he blindly made. 

“Y/N,” He pleaded earnestly. “I never wanted to make you feel that way. I was just, ugh!” There was a deep rumble from within his chest, directed at himself. “I was angry and frustrated-”

“And you let the green eyed monster take over.” She cut him off with the obvious. If she didn’t, he’d dance around it.

Meekly, he confirmed her observation. “Maybe.”

“Aemond.” Y/N took a step into the kitchen. Her moves were tentative to prevent any reflexive bolt on Aemond’s end. “Be honest with me, because if you aren’t you won’t like the result.”

“What?” He immediately shot back in nervous suspicion.

Y/N was blunt. Her voice was flat, giving no indications. “Do you have feelings for me?” She stunned him. Her words were the headlights and he was the deer in the roadway. There was a long silence, hoping for an interjection. There wasn’t one. Aemond was forced to speak, stuttering, “What?” Y/N again swept closer. Her tone remained without any indication. “Do you have feelings for me?”

“I,” Aemond tried to gather composure, but the anxiety already made its way to his very blood and pumped through his veins. “I don’t know. Yes? Maybe.”

Y/N held her breath till she was forced to exhale. The release broke their eye contact. Her hands became very interesting. Her fingers rocked back and forth over smooth palms. She swallowed to hold back the intensity of her unease. The bubble of plausible ignorance had burst.

“I… I know. I knew for a while now. I see it in the way you look at me.” She huffed. “Like I hung the moon or something. You treat me differently. You’re not as… gentle with anyone else.” Crystalized eyes looked up through damp lashes. “You shouldn’t. I thought that by playing ignorant it would fade with time. I didn’t want anything to change, and I failed to realize it already had.”

Feeling emboldened by the honesty that settled over the conversation, Aemond spoke up. His voice was freshly assured. “We’re not kids anymore.”

Y/N fluttered her eyes clear, melancholy at the acceptance. “No, we’re not.”

Aemond grew bolder, he took a step forward and tucked her hand in his. She allowed him to run his thumb over the dainty skin of her knuckles. It sent a shiver down her spine and to try hiding her gasp, she turned her head away. Aemond refused the escape. He took her chin between his thumb and index finger, directing her focus back to him. “I’m not Helaena’s nerdy little brother anymore.”

Y/N nodded ever so slightly in his grasp. He held her attention captive. The roles reversed. She was now the deer. “No, you’re not.”

It was then and there or never at all. Without the veil of naivety or shaky denials, Aemond took action. He cupped her cheek, tunnel visioned her lips, and went in.

His attempt broke the hypnosis that settled over Y/N. The deer made its dash. She slipped out of his hold and held herself. Before Aemond could fully feel the impact of rejection, Y/N surpassed his chance to speak. “I don’t know what I feel for you, but whatever it is, isn’t the same as what you feel for me.”

She dressed in a warm, sorrowful smile. A smile nonetheless. Though weary, her eyes hinted at a spark of hope. It was enough for Aemond, for now. He did not buck or bolt.

“I can wait.” It was as solemn as any vow he’d take. “I’ve waited for you for eight years already. You’re worth a thousand more.”

Y/N’s lip quivered. “What if I never feel the same?” It was a defiant, whisper of a question.

Aemond felt a familiar warmth spread from his heart. There was a sense of nostalgia which acted as the source of heat. Gods she was insufferable, but that’s why he fell in love with her. His eyes held the twinkle now. Like the sun reflecting off the water. Certain. “You will. I know you will because we’re meant to be together.” He brightened ever so slightly. “I’ve known it since the day we first met.”

Unironically, Y/N mumbled, “I’m sure shoving Aegon’s face into the dirt had something to do with it.”

He felt at ease enough to chuckle. Still, so certain. “Possibly.”

Worry reclaimed Y/N. He was too assured. “What if I develop feelings for someone else while you’re waiting? I don’t want you to be compelled to the sidelines forever. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Aemond’s breath faltered into rigidness. “I promise I will no longer interfere. It’s my choice to wait, and you’d be a hypocrite to interfere with that.”

Y/N nodded as her mind wandered off to the infinite possibilities. They made her dizzy. She steadied herself by collapsing onto a kitchen stool. Her head rested against her crossed arms, the counter barring her weight. As it just so happened, she’d tucked in  right in front of the pizza box. She could smell the contents and they pulled her out of her plummet.

She raised her head, to Aemond’s surprise and delight, with a friendly smirk. “All this seriousness is making me hungry, and we have an apology pie to eat.”

A/N 2: Let me know your thoughts! I'll soon add post chapter discussions and share mine.

Next Chapter

[catiuskaa]

shoot on sight [straight through my heart]

TROPE! enemies2lovers crack+smut?, inspired by a post in Pinterest I can’t find~! —angy noises—p.d. nvm: here it is -not angy noises-

and it’s also a way of making me post after Hannie’s n Lix’s birthday!! \(๑>◡<๑)/

PROMPT: “Take me to laser tag, push me against a corner, pin me to the wall and make out with me, then shoot me and walk away.”

WC: 5k.

CW: language, mentions of dacryphilia, mentions of spanking, bullshit n crack in almost every dialogue, alcohol, they’re both drunk but it’s ok, then I got carried away: mentions of public sex, use of pet names “sweetheart, kitten” (IK BUT SPARE ME, IT'S MINHO OK, I HAD TO), fingering (f), oral (f), hand kink?, panty stealing "borrowing". (I really NEED to touch some grass...)

Don’t forget to have fun, my loves!

[☆ ☆ 👾 ☆ ☆]

"Minho, there’s something we need to talk about," you mentioned almost in a whisper, being careful not to be eavesdropped by accident by the rest of the crew, who were too bothered choosing who would need to call for an Uber.

It was kind of a weird statement, the one a quiet yet mean part of your brain came up with as you stared at one of the guests at Han and Felix’s birthday party.

You’d denied it if asked, just for the sake of your shared friends, but the only thing you’d like there to be between Lee Minho and yourself was a dense, thick concrete wall. As dense as the man’s mind: you enjoyed lying to yourself and pretending that he couldn’t take a hint regarding your attitude towards each other.

But no. The disgustingly oh-so-attractive man who had been staring at you from afar as the group divided themselves on how to go to where Chan had booked —pfft, no, you were sure he was fully aware of the effect he had on you, making your blood feel like raging fire in your veins as his mocking set you aflame as fast as a matchstick.

“Oh, really?” He questioned with a smug smile, yet wrinkled brows in confusion.

“It’s their party, and I don’t want to ruin the fun for ‘em. So I think we should call for a recess. A truce.”

He blinked, the smile on his face losing intensity. You dragged your hand through your face, wondering what was so difficult for him not to understand.

“I mean no fighting. Just for today, if you feel like it’s that hard to not resent me and bicker out loud,” you said in a huff, pouting unconsciously.

His act dropped altogether, and he stared at you, puzzled. “Resent you?” He repeated, as if the sole idea of you and hate in the same sentence was pure madness.

You let out a dry chuckle, feeling your chest tightening. The least he could do was accept it, but he had the nerve to play dumb? Your shoulders tensed up, and you had to force yourself to stay calm, sighing quite loudly. God, maybe the night was going to be harder than planned.

“It’s obvious you don’t like me, but still, I think we could drop it for Han and Lix.” You mentioned roughly, noticing someone approaching you two, and quickly approached him further, setting a big smile on your face. He remained baffled, eyes lost somewhere you couldn't reach.

"Hate you? I-"

Han approached you two, a huge smile on his face. You smiled back, your hand travelling to Minho’s and giving it a big squeeze, as if signing peace for the day, ending the discussion and making him stop mid-sentence.

“C’mon, guys!” Han cheered, passing an arm around your shoulders, separating you from Minho and arriving with you to the parking lot.

Coming down the cars, the group followed Chan and Seungmin, who knew the place and had been there before.

“Welcome to Blackout Lazz! How can I help you guys?”

Chan mentioned the booking he had made, and when all was settled, everyone was instructed to enter a different room with a whole new vibe, purple lights reflecting neon designs that looked like graffiti in what resembled an abandoned urban location. The girl from the entrance explained that the group would have to be separated into two teams. Han and Felix decided they’d lead separately, then chose members.

Felix’s team was Chan, Seungmin, Jeongin, and you, whereas Han’s consisted of Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin. You laughed as Hyunjin complained about the extra member of your team.

“Deal with it, Jin!” You giggled, teasing, team Felix sitting on the other side of the room, who had large benches in a sort of staircase design, allowing everyone to have a seat.

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin, they need another member because they wouldn’t be able to compete with us if it was a fair fight.”

You tensed your jaw as you burnt holes in Minho’s neck, Han chuckling and high-fiving his friend.

What a bitch.

You noticed him looking at you from above his shoulder and winking at you.

boi-?!

“Okay! I’ll explain the game quickly just in case,” the employee from the desk smiled sheepishly, and you let out a sigh, trying to keep your anger for the game, hearing what the girl was saying.

In summary, everyone had three weak points: the chest, the back and the head. Each player started with three possible resets, meaning that after being shot on each weak point, they’d have another life, much like any game. The score worked depending on how many weak points you hit and how many players you could reset or eliminate. The back counted the least, then the chest and the most was the head because of how tricky it could be to aim.

Everyone started teasing and mocking the other group as another door opened, helping the team members to tie and put correctly the gear.

“Your gun will tell you how many lives you have left, and its light will turn red if you get shot at. To recharge bullets, aim down then press the button at the side.” She explained, passing a keycard over all of the guns, and turning them on. “If anything happens with the gear, this area will remain open and I’ll be here to reset your weapons or help you,” she explained, then hesitated before adding. “Refrain from practicing difficult stunts. Running is fine, but still, be careful,” she said in a huff, still smiling knowingly, and you all giggled lowly, as if she had ruined plans already made.

She passed said keycard over a panel, making another door open. Each gun turned a different colour, Lix’s team yellow and Han’s purple. They decided to play rock, paper, scissors to see which team could go in first.

“Hey there,” Minho whispered behind you, making you jump in your place, startled because of him, his voice, and how the fuck he could be so stealthy some time.

To you, it was always him.

You frowned, but before you could say anything, he smiled slyly. “Truce or not, it won’t make a difference to how I’m going to beat you today.”

You let out a dry cackle.

“Am I going to end up crying because of you? Maybe ending up getting spanked for losing?” You mocked, watching his shit-eating grin grow bigger on his face.

“Oh, most definitely,” he said, smug. “You’ll hate it.”

The mean laugh you let out confused him a bit. “Quite the contrary, honestly” you teased. “It adds to the kink list.”

You stared at the two birthday boys with a small yet naughty smile. It would have been more of a quote, rather than you couldn't pinpoint who had said it before, but a particular sentence suddenly floated its way into your mind.

If you keep shoving an animal into a cage, one of these days, it's going to fight back.

Having kept all to yourself, you were certainly going to use this as an opportunity to get your revenge and make Minho meet his doom.

Felix had won (as usual), and you smiled at Minho, showing off your middle finger as he stared at you with wide eyes, still assuming what you had said a minute ago. It certainly had to be the effect of the purple light and the smoke machine that worked just at the entrance of the playroom, but if you didn’t know better, you would’ve said he was blushing.

Nah. You shook your head sideways, scanning the area.

Several paths and entrances covered the place, some access to higher levels hidden behind walls and other different materials that contributed to the theme planned, toxic-appearing barrels laying around in a specific order, yellow do-not-cross tapes broken in some door to add to the eerie atmosphere. Smoke from different machines covered parts of the playroom, purple and white lights being the only illumination in every hallway.

“We need people upstairs,” Chan mentioned with a mischievous smile, known to be the pro at laser tag, running as fast as he did.

Felix nodded almost aggressively, the helmet being a bit big on him, making him look rather goofy. You giggled to yourself.

“Yeah. There are three levels." He said, almost to himself. "Maybe Innie and Chan Hyung could stay in this one, then…”

“Seungmin and I can take the third floor,” you said, almost dramatically, fist-bumping him, both smiling almost sadistically. “You guys can swap and buzz around first and second. Sounds ok?”

As everyone was happy, the team separated itself, each player looking for places to hide until the other team showed up.

“Minnie,” you called, stopping him from going further into the third floor. “You can stay close to this way up, and I’ll look for another one,” you offered, and he nodded, smiling widely.

“Let’s make them eat dirt!” You both celebrated, laughing, then separated again.

Sounds coming from the lower levels, loud steps and gunshots accompanied by screams and noisy laughs made their way up, not reverberating, but still loud enough to make you smile cheekily, already excited.

You kept looking for another way down, but then you heard a gunshot, and your back buzzed, your gun quickly glowing red.

You turned around, hearing a noisy, “YOOOHH BITCHES!” and couldn’t help but laugh loudly.

“Changbin, you traitor!” You shouted, running behind him. “I’ll sell my Dwaekki plushie on Ebay!”

You stopped the chase, panting. A thought came to mind that it had been suicide to play a running and reflexes-related game with people who lived for the gym and sports, or at least most of them.

Spotting Hyunjin, you smiled meanly when you shot him in the back.

“WHAT?!” He screamed, confused. "I DON'T GET THIS GAME!""

Your face was red from all the laughing and running, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. After a bit, you had shot Hyunjin around four times, Han three, and got your revenge on Changbin by getting his last shot and eliminating him. But you hadn’t been able to find the one person you wanted to fight against the most.

Your team wasn’t too much better than the rival. Chan stood firm, only having two shots left, but if you were correct, Lixxie was at one hit, and you and Seungmin were close to that, too. Jeongin was probably playing UNO with Changbin outside.

“Where is this bitch hiding?” You panted, running around before encountering Lix, whose face was red from all the exercise, his hair messily tied up. Now, as a duo, you scanned the second floor for the tenth time.

“Have you seen Minho?” You inquired, and let out a sly smile when he nodded.

“I heard him tell Han he’s almost out, but he’s using Hyunjin as a shield, so that’s that,” you both laughed, he stayed looking around as you layed on a wall, catching your breath.

All of a sudden, he let out a gasp, his gun glowing red.

“From the back?!” He groaned loudly, whispering insults as he tried to place who had shot his final.

“Man, you’re as bad as in League,” you mocked, wheezing, as he rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Say whatever, but if I’m out, you’re alone. Good luck with that fucking camper!”

You grinned, staying behind that wall, knowing that whoever had eliminated Felix couldn’t reach you from that angle.

Minutes passed in what felt like hours. Soon enough, you and Chan were the only ones left in team Felix, and Minho was the remaining soldier fighting for team Han.

“Let’s divide again, there’s only ten minutes left,” Chan said in a huff.

You started lazily running away, but then heard gunshots from behind, Chan’s laugh almost echoing in the playroom.

“Don’t let that cheater win!” He screamed before heading to the exit.

There were seven minutes left.

It was almost anxiety-threatening, roaming around each and every nook and cranny of the place, unable to find Minho.

A static-like sound came from several speakers on the walls.

“The remaining players will play in Blackout mode! Let it be a one-shot winner!” the voice said, sounding similar to the girl from the entrance. “No campers allowed, team Han!”

The white lights suddenly turned off, leaving you alone in a purple-illuminated space. You sucked air in from your teeth, your body tensing. That was good because now you could find him, but at the same time, it wasn't. Now, there was no chance of you knowing where or when he would strike, the light not actually doing anything except colouring the playroom.

You started walking around aimlessly, passing your hand through your hair in a nervous tick from time to time. Until you got to a dead-end.

It was a big room at the end of a hallway, close enough to the exit that you were sure Minho wouldn’t think about searching inside, spacious enough to hold different walls and obstacles to hide and take cover.

In your head, he should’ve been struggling for a while before finding you, letting you shoot easily at him the moment he’d find you.

Instead, a sudden presence approached you from behind. You felt his body pressed on yours, and before you could even aim or shoot, he quickly gripped the hand you held your gun with, separating it from him as he turned you around, now facing him.

There was no place for what or any insults you could’ve thought of as he sharply and decisively trapped your lips with his.

You let out a confused sound, his touch feeling almost abrasive as you had been sweating for what felt like days but had only been half an hour, the taste of his lips so weirdly enticing that even if you hadn’t moved, it strangely made you crave for more.

He stopped and backed away when he noticed you stayed still, but in a rushed impulse, you took him from the collar of his shirt with your free hand, the other one still under his, gun in hand, and pulled him back in.

You felt him smile in the kiss, pressing you a bit more against the wall behind you as it started growing more intense, deeper by every second. Your free hand laid on his chest, allowing you to notice his heart racing in a rhythm you didn't expect —but even if you didn’t know just yet, the reason for his racing heartbeat wasn't the whole 'shoot on sight” deal. It was you.

To him, it was always you.

You broke the kiss, trying to assume what had just happened. It felt impossible, yet it still made your insides churn and turn, and it had only been a kiss.

You had always secretly wished for a concrete wall between him and you, yet funnily enough, it sat behind you, allowing him to keep you in his arms, and you, not even thinking of pushing him away.

The air seemed to crackle with anticipation. The tension in the purple-lit room was palpable, like a storm about to break. His dark eyes locked with yours in a passionate gaze and then, with a sudden surge of longing, met you halfway, closing the gap.

Your mouths met, not in a gentle or hesitant manner, but with an almost reckless abandon. It was as if a fuse had been lit, and even if you still felt like a matchstick being turned on, this had a way different meaning in your head now. You could've sworn it had changed your brain chemistry.

The sensation was intense, like being caught in the midst of a raging wildfire. Tongues that danced in a wild, untamed rhythm, tasting the heat and desire that enveloped them, fueled by the rage, the adrenaline, the sudden desire that started to creep out from its cage. It was a kiss that left you both breathless, their hearts racing, and their bodies tingling with a shared, burning intensity.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed, lost in the flames of the moment, until you pushed him slightly to catch some air.

His grip on you lost tension as he stayed still, almost panting.

“Players! There’s only one minute left!”

You bit your lip slightly, but right before you could react, he directed his gun towards your chest, and shot you.

You stared at him in disbelief, wide eyes and mouth shyly parted.

“That has got to be cheating.” You muttered.

He smiled slyly, aproaching you again, settling his free hand on the wall behind you, trapping you back.

He gave you a small peck.

“Pfft. Sue me, kitten.”

Walking towards the exit, he winked before dissapearing behind the walls, leaving.

[☆ ☆ 👾 ☆ ☆]

“How does it feel? The loss? The pain?” Han mentioned smugly as you came back from the toilet, now wearing a simple skirt and a top as Jisung cockily pranced around, as if he had been the one that had given you your last shot when of course, it had to be Minho.

Thinking about him made you bite your lip. He was nowhere to be found, and it was eating you from your insides. In the best way possible, of course, ‘cause thanks to him, the game had ended with you in a… particular situation.

You sat, and rubbed your thighs together, but still deadpanned at Jisung.

“Shut the fuck up, you were eliminated before we even reached 15 minutes. Game lastes 30. Let that sink in, birthday moron,” you smirked.

Laughing at his fake childish sadness, you tried to forget about what had happened in the playroom. How he had settled his thigh in between yours. How he had bit your lips, then softly passed his tongue over, almost soothing. How he had pushed you against the wall, caging you between it and his broad figure. How he…

“Hey, you ok?” Felix approached, a sheepish grin on his features, yet brows arched in what you then recognised as worry. “Your face is all red. Here, have some water.”

Just after he had mentioned it, you felt your cheeks hot, and acknowledged your warm state. You wished they hadn’t turned even more red when you blinked awkwardly at the realization, hoping to drown as you drinked from what he had handed you.

“Thanks, Lix. So… what’s the plan?”

“Mmhm… Jisung wants to go get drunk, his words, not mine,” he smiled. “His argument is that winners choose, and honestly, I can’t really argue about that,” his hand brushed his hair back as he laughed softly.

Everyone gathered in a resting space crowded with sofas, in the main area of the building, after Chan and Minho had called for an Uber.

That’s when you saw him again, and you had never imagined the thoughts that would instantly crawl their way to your mind —which was something, considering the wide range that your imagination could reach sometimes.

In that moment, it was as if the relization hit you, bluntly and unexpected, having been hidden and buried under piles of childish arguments and pride.

But god, after what had happened, you couldn’t help but accept your fate.

The man looked absolutely scrumptious.

“Do you mind?” He asked, getting close to you.

His lips, full and enticing, made you lick your own. You couldn’t help but think if its intense pinkish colour had always been like that or if it had been something more recent, something like yours on him, nibbing, kissing—

“Mmhm?” You pondered, still lost in your thoughts, not understanding.

“I want to sit, idiot.” He gestured to the small yet free space next to you, grin shining on his face. You blinked, cheeks further red, and scooched over the other side, making space for him.

You body tensed up when his hand grazed your leg. It was as if he had turned off a switch you didn’t know existed, making you unable to focus on anything else, the small chat that the group was having already forgotten.

He gave you a quick glance, as if checking if you looked uncomfortable, but you didn’t dare to say anything. Instead, when you felt like he was going to move his hand away, you rushed yours over it, shyly sliding it a bit further on your thigh.

He almost choked with his own saliva, quickly grunting and clearing his throat, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Hey, Earth calling to Minho…?”

Both of you turned to face Changbin. He had a smirk on his face that lasted no longer than a blink, but you felt that maybe there was something you were not getting.

“You guys weren’t paying attention, so you’re stuck to go on Uber,” Seungmin said as he put his jacket on. “Han, Hyunjin, Chan, Changbin and me are taking the old man’s car.”

“Seungmin, that’s treason!”

“Fuck off!” He laughed, leaving.

The car ride had a special tension between Minho and you, again, sitting next to each other, his hand drawing patterns midlessly on your upper thigh that made you bite your lip the whole journey to the bar.

Getting off the vehicle, the cold night air hugged you tightly, the warm, fuzzy feeling inside you not leaving fully.

“Girl, c’mere! We’re doing shots!” Hyunjin took you by your arm, dragging you inside and close to the bartender, who served you your drinks with in an amazing speed.

Drink after drink, the dizziness in your body grew more intense. You chugged each glass hoping to make this new feeling of longing and desperation go away, but as you both stared at each other even when in opposites sides of the bar, the sensation took over your body as he eye-fucked you across the dance floor.

Hyunjin ditched you quickly, as drunk as he was, not really on purpose, rather just too into the music that the crowd separated you from him, but you were quickly surrounded by another body.

It wasn’t who you thought —or wished, much to what a much sober, small and confused part of your brain still struggled to grasp—, his touch not feeling as warm as back in the playroom.

This new guy smiled at you when you turned around, as if saying ‘hey, girl.’ Maybe he had even said it, but you hadn’t heard it due to the loud music blasting on the place.

Or because you stumbled and crashed against another hard and lean surface, one that sneakly settled a hand on your waist, moving you further against him.

“Mine,” he stated, and you didn’t know why but in that moment the sureness in his voice made you almost tremble —or however the fuck it was called, but with the amount of booze in your head, you didn’t care.

The guy frowned, but fortunately was quickly taken by another man, who smiled uncomfortably, leaving as he mumbled what sounded like scolding to his friend.

You laughed goofily at the sight, not noticing how Minho pulled you from your wrist until you had left the crowd and as he let you use him as a way of stabilizing yourself.

He couldn’t lie to himself, he had to be drunk too, maybe not as bad as you were, but he definetely was, or he wouldn’t have been able to pull of what had happened two minutes ago.

“It’s so hot in here…” you whined childishly. He guided you to the bathrooms —or what he guessed was the bathroom— and let you find your way towards the sink, as you splashed water on your face.

The main area of the bathroom was a shelf-like sink with a big mirror. Behind you and Minho, two different doors, one for men, and one for women, and to your left, the one for physically disabled people

“What was that in the dance floor?” He wondered, staring at you through the mirror.

You turned around, laying your weight on the sink, showing off a smirky grin. “Well, he showed up. And with you leaving me as horny as I feel, I think it is bound to happen that I may have some fun tonight.”

“With him? In that skirt?” He grunted, not really showing if he thought of the idea as something funny or stupid.

“I mean, you haven’t done too much to give me other options, no?”

In large but painfully slow steps, his hands laid next to your body, by your sides, leaning in so you’d be face to face.

“Really? I haven’t?” He murmured, eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips, licking his own. He let out a chuckle when you shook your head sideways. “What if… I offer myself as an option?”

You smiled, giggling, the alcohol not letting you fully control the emotions you chose to display.

“You’d like that, huh?” He teased, his breath smelling like a mix of drinks that you suddenly craved more than anything.

You hands traveled to the neck of his shirt. “Am I that transparent?”

The moment you pulled and met him half way, you never realized how hard it would be to stop.

His hands roamed over his favourite areas of your body, which seemed to be all of them. Uncontrolled sounds creeped out as his lips traced open-mouthed kisses on your neck, moving up to lick behind your earlobe. You felt your body weaken at the sensation of his lips.

"Did you enjoy it?"

His question, as well as the alcohol running down your blood, baffled you, not letting you understand. "W-What?"

"Leaving me so fucking hard, sweetheart. You owe me one."

Bitting your lip as his actions grew intense, you stared at him.

"I never asked you... to leave."

He chuckles, his breath tickling your neck.

"I'm not leaving now..."

"B-but this is just... revenge..." biting your lip harder didn't cover the sounds you were making, but Minho loved every one of them.

"Revenge?" You feel him smile on your skin, his hand lowering towards your ass, shamelessly gripping and fondling it under your skirt. You tremble in his arms. "That's a strong word... but no, I don't want that..."

You lick your lips, trying to soften them after biting too hard, feeling a small dent mark on them, knowing your lipstick has got to be everywhere except your lips— Minho's now coloured in the same soft cherry colour, looking glossy and pink and so goddam kissable.

"Then what do you want?"

His hands trailed mindless figures, marking a path to where you both knew you needed him the most, and you visibly shook when he graced his hand over it, softly stroking your inner thighs.

Okay, that was very clear.

Your mind flashes thoughts of you hating him, and a small part of you doesn't know why you're letting him touch you like this, but as his hand goes below your skirt and above and his fingers start moving softly over your underwear, you choose to make future you worry about the outcomes.

Tonight's main course is him and his beautiful hands torturing you with pleasure.

Minho groans slightly, and you could swear it's the best sound you've ever heard. "God, you feel so wet already..." You whine as he keeps a dreadfully slow pace, moving his hand in small circles, and his words only make the pleasure pool in your lower belly.

"Minho..." You moaned because not one of you cared if he just dragged you inside the bathroom to finger you when everyone was partying and dancing right next door.

He hummed, grinning, so close to you that you felt the alcohol breath surround you, almost as if you were drinking it yourself.

"Sweetheart."

His voice was not the cockily and irritating automatic voice you were used to when bickering and teasing. Instead, it was low, full of lust, and his breathing was so close to erratic that you almost laugh in disbelief. This wasn’t what you had planned for today. No, you would've never thought of this, but right now, there was nothing you'd rather be doing.

"Want me to put my fingers inside you? To make this pretty pussy mine? Yes? Use your words, kitten," he teases. “I know you can.”

You could feel every word, every syllable, all over your skin as goosebumps spread through your body.

You nodded eagerly and managed to mutter out a quiet "yes," and as soon as he started moving, you knew you wouldn’t last shit.

You were a mess, moaning and shaking uncontrollably, not sober enough to notice when he pulled your panties down just enough so he could start a full-on make-out with your "pretty pussy"— his words, not mine.

His face was buried deep between your thighs and half-hidden under your skirt, as his only free hand sank into your ass, squeezing it as he sucked your clit into his mouth in a way that made you forget not only left or right, but also up and down.

His pace increased as he coordinated his fingers with his tongue, and it was game over. if he hadn't been holding your body, you knew your legs wouldn't have supported you through it. You whimpered and moaned, not even getting to warn him as pleasure and heat flooded your entire body.

With a pleased smile on his face, Minho leaned back, removing his fingers from inside you, not flinching once as he locked his eyes with yours and sucked his fingers into his mouth.

Mind still in bliss, you let out a whine, back to biting your lip, taking his face in your hands and crashing your lips on his, tasting you on his tongue.

“Sweetheart," he whispered almost on your lips.

He bent again, giving a small tap on your ankles.

The black-laced fabric that had been covering you before was now deep inside his pocket.

"M-Minho...!"

He chuckled, fixing your hair in soft movements.

"Let's leave before I fuck you in a bathroom stall."

"But my panties—"

He placed a finger on your lips, shushing you with a smug smirk.

"Mine. Keepin' 'em for later. Now, c'mon, before you make me even crazier."

[hard hours]

[☆ ☆ 👾 ☆ ☆]

~Kats, who feels weirdly strange about writing smut, but also feels her liked posts, Wattpad and AO3 tabs plus actual physical books stare at her in disbelief.

happee birthdae to my favorite boys!! <3

[bookofmirth]

Can I ask who's side you were on from the Ember bonus chapter? Or are you kind of neutral on it?

Oof this is so complex, anon. This is going to be so long. And I doubt that this conversation will be settled any time soon.

I wouldn't say that I am neutral because I have Thoughts and Feelings, but I think Rhys and Nesta both had good points and did dumb things. I know this post leans in Nesta's favor, but it's not anti anyone. It's more my thoughts about how complex the situation was, and why I think people did the things they did, what was motivating them. Let me explain:

Should Nesta have consulted someone about giving the mask to Bryce, even just to borrow it? Yeah, I think she should have. I knew that she had done that prior to having read the bonus chapter, and in the back of my head I thought it was so... weird for her to have given this important object of power to Bryce without asking for anyone else's opinion? I felt like I was missing some context, like why does Nesta just hold onto these objects all the time and do with them what she wills? Guess my unease was right, because other characters do NOT like how she handles the trove.

The stakes from Nesta being wrong about this were insanely, astronomically high. And "astronomical" isn't even a metaphor in this case, it's literal. She wasn't wrong, but that is a huge, gigantic, ridiculous risk to have taken. Everyone in acotar knows that the Daglan/Asteri are the beings who oppressed them thousands of years ago, and now they have proof in Bryce's arrival that the Daglan are still up to their old tricks. For the Daglan to then have these objects of immense power, potentially?? OOF. And Nesta is newer to the fae world, she may not fully grasp the gravity of the situation, so she probably wasn't working with complete understanding of the implications.

I mentioned that the group chat has been ACTIVE on this topic, and @areyoudreaminof (I think it was Kelsey, if not correct me) said that perhaps Nesta was thinking that by doing this, she could help humans in some way. Maybe not the humans she grew up with, but somewhere, Nesta thought, maybe she could do something good for other people who are effectively powerless. So I understand why Nesta did it. This was also after she had spent a bunch of time with Bryce, they learned about each other's worlds, and I think they had attained a sort of understanding.

Also side note, but people didn't trust Nesta with Made objects in acosf either and that was condescending as fuck - maybe she didn't want to be just as shitty to Bryce as everyone had been towards her. I get why people don't trust them with these objects, but in a way it comes down to underestimating them and not understanding their intentions.

Was Rhys right to have lost his mind about the mask going to another world? Absolutely. The Night Court is his responsibility, which means that everything that happens there ultimately falls to him. His fears about the Daglan invading again have been real since he saw Aelin falling through the sky. He's been thinking about these very real threats for a while. Merrill is researching other worlds and although this hasn't been confirmed, I feel like she was brought there for that reason? To give him answers? Whether or not that's true, Rhys is the High Lord and the fact that some of the most powerful objects in their possession were off galavanting in another world without his knowledge, in a way that could literally lead to the destruction of their world - Rhys being understanding and nice about it in this situation would be totally unrealistic.

Rhys has also Been Through It in terms of war, court politics, fae bullshit. He has a much better grasp of what the consequences could be if Made objects get into the wrong hands. His fears aren't hypothetical, they are very real.

HOWEVER - was Rhys right to have treated Nesta the way that he did? Absolutely fucking not. I am honestly so sick of him being a dick to Nesta just because of shit she's done to other people. Not to him. It was so hard to read descriptions of Nesta's body language when they came back into the scene, after their fight. "Nesta's shoulders tensing, her head bowing". For Nesta to have been so thoroughly chastised by someone who already has a history of treating her like shit, it made me so mad. For Nesta, who has gone through so much growth and made so many strides to not hate herself, to regain confidence and better awareness of herself, to have been made to feel small - it makes me so, so mad honestly.

The thing is, we don't actually know the content of their argument, what Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel said to Nesta. All we have gotten thus far is the aftermath. Maybe Rhys tried to be tactful and then Nesta pushed his buttons, as she's done in the past. All we know is how Nesta acts afterwards, which doesn't make me feel charitable in terms of how Rhys handled it.

I think - and again I'll need to read more of the context of this fight which I assume we will see in acotar5 - but I think that one of the main reasons Rhys was pissed off and reacted the way he did was because of his ego (and fear, even if it's justifiable). He's so used to calling all the shots, to having everything under control, that I think he's not used to anyone else having power on the same level as him. Power in this sense refers to authority, the ability for other people to make these kinds of decisions without consulting him. He's used to being the Big Man in Charge and Nesta is clearly a threat to that. This is all my headcanon/assumptions about how he's feeling, but... I'd be surprised if I'm off the mark, based on his past behaviors and the way he makes executive decisions without consulting the IC, who ostensibly exist in order to support him.

Basically, I think that Nesta was on shaky ground in letting Bryce borrow the mask even though it did turn out okay in the end, but Rhys was wrong for acting out the way that he did.

This is only somewhat related to your actual question, but I think that this is one of the scenes that we will see in acotar5, made possible by having Azriel's POV, him as the main character.

[twyftwyt]

this is going to be a long one, so prepare yourselves, cause I need to get some stuff off my chest

All that’s wrong in the BO fandom and with BO themselves:

1. Proper media training - I think none of the boys in the band, aside from Noah, have proper media training and it shows in interviews. I feel like, with them growing so big over the last year, they need to take some proper time and do that, so we can save each other the little awkward moments where interviewers ask weird questions or make even weirder statements and the guys just sit there looking a little lost.

2. Their crew needs to chill (at times) - Now I understand that every fandom has got their crazies, it’s a part of the lore, but come on! I’ve seen not once or twice, crew members being mean towards the fandom, calling us dumb and whatnot. If I see something I don’t like or find weird/stupid/pointless/delusional, I might share it with my friends, but I won’t go around posting about it on my story/twitter. There are people in this fandom that go overboard and need to be shown the door, but when you show disrespect to one, you show disrespect to all and that, I feel, needs to be stated somewhere. Matt is unnecessarily mean sometimes and so are Steven and other crew members. I feel like if I were in their position, I’d probably want to call out people on their shit too, but no need to do it ALL THE TIME.

3. The band is too closed off - And don’t get me wrong here, I understand and respect boundaries, but it sounds and feels a little contradictory when the lead singer of the band says in an interview that he feels closer to some of the artists he listens to, because he’s read their life story. The irony in that is massive. When you deny fans of little things like posts here and there, sharing a little something personal (example: Dove Cameron, Halsey, Thirty Seconds to Mars are all artists that make and write their own music and I’ve heard at least one story from each of them on how a personal event inspired said song). So when you deny fans of little things like that, you get obsessive people who try ro dig up your personal life, just to feel a bit more connected to your music. Everything can be regulated, I feel, if done and said right.

4. They all (the band and crew) need to collectively accept the fact that the band’s becoming massive, which means that they will attract all kinds of fans. Fans that will be there only for Noah. Fans that will be there only for TikTok hits like “Just Pretend” and whatnot. And they’d benefit so much more from those people if they just knew how to use everything to their advantage. Now one little comment from the crew sets the whole fandom ablaze. They’re not a small town band supporting bigger acts on tour anymore.

ok, I’ll stop yapping now and remember, this is just my opinion, you don’t have to agree with it and you also don’t have to argue with me on it ✌🏻

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Hello!

If you'd like to share, I'm curious about what your ideas were about:

"The Agreste's aquiring the miraculous is far more morally complex, makes sense, and was not done for explicitly selfish reasons"

(really liked your reverse crush set-up (￣︶￣) )

(Post that spawned this ask)

There are so many ways to do this, but I personally like the idea that Fu had nothing to do with the miraculous going missing because there was no real reason to do that in canon. Yes, it made Fu paranoid, but the show keeps insisting that paranoia is good and Su Han has basically the same rules that Fu did, so this is just a needless complication. I don't think anything would change if Fu was a fully realized guardian. I don't want the guardian order to be a thing, though. There's just a single guardian.

With that in mind, somewhere along the line, the holders of the peacock and the butterfly went rogue. In the resulting fight, the peacock got damaged by whoever was wielding the black cat because that should be the only way to damage a miraculous. None of this drop it and it breaks BS. In spite of the damage, the peacock and the butterfly escaped. They've been missing ever since and no one has even heard of them being used.

These long ago rogue holders end up being Emilie's ancestors or the ancestors of someone she gets close to or even just people she gets close to because she's nice and does stuff with the elderly. Whatever the path, it leads to Emilie getting her hands on the miraculous. You could even match canon and replace the rings with the miraculous since canon went the family heirloom route already. The setup is there!

If we keep the good Emilie read that canon so clearly wants us to have, then we can have Emilie become a world traveler specifically because she wants to figure out how to fix the peacock. She uses her wealth to go all over the place, looking for clues on the guardian, but without the guardian order, there's no specific place to look. On these travels she meets Gabriel and they end up getting married. Gabriel enjoys traveling with her and helping her in her quest, but it's just a thing they do on the side. This keeps the world traveler element and explains how these two know about the miraculous since they no longer need to magically find out about the miraculous on their own AND KNOW WHERE TO FIND THEM???

Mini rant time: the fact that Gabriel, Nathalie, and Emilie were able to successfully find the miraculous is such total BS. They weren't lost in the ruins of the guardian temple. They were lost while Fu was running away! How would they even begin to know where to look unless Fu told them? Even then, he dropped them into an open cavern! That's like finding a needle in a haystack. And why did they find the miraculous, but not Feast? Wouldn't they be in the same location? It actually makes more sense for them to find Feast as an indicator that this is the right spot since it's so much bigger! None of this makes sense. As an amature historian who knows the basics of how archelogy works, this plot point infuriates me. It's so dumb.

Anyway, somewhere along the line, a situation pops up where Emilie is forced to use the peacock even though she knows the consequences because she should ABSOLUTELY KNOW THE CONSEQUENCES!!! I do not believe for a second that Nooroo didn't warn them. I could possibly buy Dussu being too out of it, but then that raises questions about where Nooroo was and there's no good answer to that. It's nonsense. Emilie not knowing is a copout and so lame! It ruins all the drama of her using the peacock. If her getting sick was an accident then just give her cancer or something.

Why she uses the peacock is up to you. Have Adrien be sick and she picks saving her son over a long life. Have her and Gabriel get into trouble on their travels and so she transforms to save him (oh the guilt! Makes Gabriel's obsession make even more sense, doesn't it?) Whatever you choice, make sure it's not explicitly selfish and you've got a wonderful complex situation where Emilie's death really wasn't deserved and Gabriel's obsession truly feels like a man trying to right a wrong and not like an egomaniac trying to stop the consequences of his own bad actions, which is one of the main reason I keep saying I like good Emilie. The story is so much more interesting to me if Emilie is good. It doesn't justify Gabriel's actions, but it makes them more compelling. Canon went the most boring route possible for this backstory and I hate it.