#whoever this green haired girl is

[plutoschiild]

psychologist: the ygo x mha characters parallels can't harm you, they don't exist

the ygo x mha characters parallels:

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[josephquinnswhore]

Christmas Eve - joel miller x female reader

summary: Christmas Eve with your husband.

word count: 2k

content warning: fluff..slight insinuations to sex, girl dad joel, heavily pregnant reader, anxiety surrounding pregnancy, birth etc. Pre established marriage, joel is in his early 30’s. no outbreak. I think that’s it?

a/n: it’s chrissy eve in Australia… 10:15pm as I’m posting this. Merry Christmas to all my moots / fans of Joel / Pedro / whoever reads this. Love you all x

Lights draped around the window frames and along the porch were strung up, emitting a golden glow along the cleared pathway to the front door. Tinsel is tightly wrapped around the wooden frame of the steps to your front house, complete with a beautiful wreath on your front door.

Through the curtains, you could make out Joel’s figure up on the step ladder, hanging more lights in the living room.

As you step foot into your home, the harsh wind follows you as you tap the snow off your boots on the doormat, a freezing breeze curls up your neck, making you shudder.

But as the front door closes behind you, all you feel is warmth. The ugly Christmas sweater you wore has poorly stitched reindeers, snowflakes and the ugliest shade of green you’d ever seen. Alas, You’re shocked to see Joel wearing his matching sweater as you step through the threshold of the living room.

Tinsel hangs along the hallways, the smell of the pine tree fills your lungs with warmth. Never did you think it could be possible to crave a smell—until now. The fresh scent of pine tree that Joel had cut down, he and Tommy had lugged it into your living room to use as a Christmas tree upon your insistence.

He turns to face you, raising an eyebrow at your messy hair and few intact snowflakes on your sweater. In hand, you’re clutching a sacred tin of powdered hot chocolate.

His ugly Christmas sweater is the same as yours, but red. His dark hair is littered with greys, feral curls untamed and his face framed with a pair of thick specs. The rainbow lights he’s hanging up with a hammer and nail reflect in them for a moment, before he removes them. His sweet, warm brown eyes meet your own.

“House looks good baby,” you call softly, admiring how beautiful the decorations looked with his determination, not allowing you to do anything more than decorate the tree, and wrap the gifts, since it was your favourite part about Christmas, excluding the gingerbread baking.

He climbs down the ladder, hooking his glasses through the neckline of his sweater, setting the hammer and nails onto the flat surface at the top of the step ladder.

“Without your vision this never would have come to life. Sarah’s going to love it.” He preens, stepping toward you. “How was it out there?” With an all recognisable voice of concern, you smile.

It was beginning to snow outside, and Joel was anxious the entire time you’d been gone.

“Chaotic, shopping on Christmas Eve isn’t for the weak. I had to practically fight an old lady to get this tin of hot chocolate you know?”

His soft laugh breaks the tension of his anxiety, just glad to have you back. His arms snake around you, resting on your hips. “Sounds like you needed your man to come with you hm? I’ve got no problems protecting my girl from the oldies.”

“I can handle them, plus.. I’m glad you stayed. Sarah’s going to be so happy when she sees all of this. Did you remember to do Santa’s footprints with flour?”

Tsk. “So much distrust baby, course I remembered, I ain’t the one with baby brain y’know?”.

You roll your eyes at him, shoving his chest lightly. “And who’s fault is that, hm?”

Joel chuckled as you rolled your eyes, knowing how much you secretly loved his teasing. He followed your gaze to the lights before smiling, proud of his work.

"I’ll take half the blame, honey," he said,

“If you don’t recall, I’ll recite the way you begged me to get you pregnant—“

With your cheeks warming you interrupt. “Alright.. alright. I remember.”

His thumb leaves your waist, curling into your cheek to caress you softly with adoration. "I’m glad you convinced me, baby. You look so beautiful, you’re glowing.”

Your cheeks feel warm at his praise. The warmth of the fire crackling inside of the living room begin to ease the ache in your joints, particularly your knees and ankles.

“I look and feel like a whale.” It had been hard on you, anyone could see, with your stomach so round and swollen, the Christmas sweater struggled to stretch over your stomach to cover it entirely.

Joel shook his head, slipping his warm hands underneath your sweater to caress your aching stomach in a soothing notion.

"No," he protested softly. "You look like my beautiful, pregnant wife who is about to bring a little bundle of joy into the world. Half of me, and half of you.”

With a soft hum, you find yourself smiling. The thought warmed your heart, a small bundle of love, made of you and him. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Joel Miller.”

"Hm?" Joel hums in return, planting a kiss on your cheek, his nose nudging your own. "That's good to know, I might have to use that to my advantage."

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Maybe... it'll get me everything I want."

With a baited breath, you breathe out a shaky response. “And what is it that you want?”

"Hmm..." Joel pretended to ponder about it for a moment, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips again, fingers curling into the curved surface.

"Since you asked," he murmured, his voice low and enticing. "All I really want for Christmas is to spend it with you. But if you're looking for a more tangible gift, I guess I could think of a thing or two."

With a roll of your eyes, you snag a candy cane off of the tree beside you, and uncurl the plastic and stick the hooked peppermint lolly into your mouth, sucking the flavour off with a pop.

“Hot chocolate first.” You insist, kissing his cheek, leaving sticky residue on his warm skin. “I didn’t drive through a snowstorm and fight an old lady for nothing.”

You shake the tin of chocolate powder as if to remind him, garnering his attention.

Joel chuckled wipes the sticky candy cane residue off his cheek. “You got it mumma. Hot chocolate first, then I'll tell you what I really want for Christmas."

Joel gestured towards the couch by the fireplace with one hand and an expectant gaze.

"Go take a seat and relax. I'll make the hot chocolate, and then you can tell me about that beautiful baby of ours and how you’re feeling."

He swats your ass softly, amusement clear in his voice.

“Thanks baby. For everything. My feet are killing me.” Minutes later you graciously accept the warm mug of hot chocolate, the white mini marshmallows are soft and starting to melt.

"Anything for you baby.” You know he means it too.

He took a seat on the couch beside you, the leather sinking under his weight. "How's everything been today? Any contractions?"

You shake your head with a small mouthful of the gooey, warm, sweet drink. “No, nothing yet. I feel like she’s never going to come at this rate..”

A soft hum vibrates within your chest as he encourages you to shift towards him, and he props your feet up onto his lap to remove your shoes and socks, promptly massaging your swollen ankles.

“Do you think she’ll come before the new year?”

Joel continued massaging your ankles, looking down at your huge baby bump as you rubbed it tentatively, he can sense some anxiety coming from you as a first time expectant mother.

Sure, you’d practically raised Sarah since she was twelve months, but this was different. A newborn, the birth.. that was all new to you.

"Hard to tell, baby," he said with a thoughtful expression, not wanting to cause you any stress. "But judging by how big you are, I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to make her debut soon."

He looked up at you, his gaze meeting yours as he decided to pry further, coaxing the truth from you. "You feeling ready for the big day yet?"

“I’m terrified,” you admit in a gentle whisper between you, a sudden sense of vulnerability curates between the two of you. It makes it all the more real.

Joel's expression softened as you admitted your fears, his fingers pausing in massaging your ankles. Watching as you set your now empty mug down onto the coffee table, having satiated your sweet tooth.. for now.

"Hey, I get it," he reassures quietly, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your foot in a comforting gesture this time, rather than a massage. "Giving birth is a big deal, baby. But you're gonna be incredible. You're strong, you're capable, and I'll be right there with you every step of the way. I promise.”

Joel smiled warmly, squeezing your shoulder gently as you slowly processed his words of encouragement, that no matter what happened through the birth, you’d soon have a family of four. “You’re right.. it’s all going to be okay.”

"You're damn right it's going to be okay," he said with conviction. "Because we've got each other, Sarah, and our precious little girl.. Sadie, right?”

He moved his hand from your feet, leaning closer to place his hands on your stomach, feeling his daughter actively kick at his affectionate touch. Seeing you nod in confirmation. “Yeah.. Sadie.”

"Just think, in a few days, you'll be holding our baby in your arms."

The thought is overwhelming, a small baby in your arms, Sarah, who had turned six earlier in the year. She was stoked to be a big sister, asking every day when the baby was coming. Constantly cradling your heavy stomach with her small hands, singing as she prompts the baby to kick.

The image of innocence, a young child that still believes in Santa, which will hopefully carry into the next few years of your lives.

The thought makes you smile, wrapping dozens of presents for everyone and sticking them under the tree for all of you, your family of four plus Tommy and Maria who annually joined you for Christmas celebrations.

Joel glances around the living room, taking in the sights of the lights and the decorations that adorned the house. The tree stood in a corner, covered in colorful, homemade decorations from Sarah, the topper at the top of the tree shaped like a snowflake coloured in with a half dozen colours being Joel's favorite of them all.

"You know," he said softly, his hand still resting on your tummy. "This is going to be our last Christmas as a a family of three..."

The thought makes your heart ache with guilt or perhaps anxiety, biting into your lower lip. “It’s all a bit much isn’t it?”

"Yeah, it is," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. He was getting older now, creeping into his early thirties. To start over again, he felt a little out of practice.

"It's a lot to take in, baby, I know. But that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. We can do this together, Tommy and Maria will help.. we aren’t doin’ this alone. Sarah will adore our little girl. And I know you’re goin’ to be an incredible mother.”

Ever the romantic.

With a wry smile and your heart swelling inside of your chest, you offer him what he had indignantly prompted for earlier in the evening. “Want to try and get this baby out?”

Your hand trails through his hair with a suggestive smile. Joel raised an eyebrow at your suggestion, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"Hmm... Now that's a proposition I can get on board with, baby."

[mykaelaaa]

quit it

✰se-mi x fem!reader / ~3k

✰deciding to pair up with se-mi unaware what you're getting into

✰warnings: blood, suggestive, +18

"do you trust that guy?"

leaning on the comically big bunk bed far enough from the loud crowd, you stared at the plastic pig hanging in the air. filled with money, presumably real money.

maybe if you get everybody to climb on each other and take that thing down you could get out of this shithole you regret agreeing to.

some guy went on rambling about how he's been here before and you're too caught up in your thoughts to hear what he has to say.

what's his number? 456?

maybe you should spare him a chance. judging by the way he helped out. but maybe he's also full of shit, just like the rest of people here. you saw the field full of bodies and blood. if anything, he's a good entertainer judging by the green and greedy crowd he gathered around for the second time.

too lost to hear, but not to feel someone giving you a punch in the shoulder. quite a strong one. here we go, you thought. bribes, violence, torment, bed and food exchange just like in those world ending movies. 

not having any partners in crime or knowing what any of these people are like you have to be wary. it's all about the money as the end goal for over 300 people here, which is a scary thought. 

with annoyance and half-baked comeback, you turned your attention to whatever smartass that spawned next to you.

let's just say they sure did not disappoint. looks wise, of course.

but it's not time or place for that right now. right? besides, you saw a couple of sparks early on between players but surely surfaced level ones. the type formed in the span of one day of being here is not that romantic. more like a good distraction. but you can't blame them, maybe the next game is their last one so why not go out with a good makeout or something?

"what?"

"i asked you something." the girl spoke confidently, holding a strong gaze over you for some reason. she had her arms crossed, mimicking your pose on the opposite frame while you were gripped by uncertainty, she seemed more carefree and unbothered. it was almost reassuring, somehow. 

you felt exposed and this time not by the debts unpaid and calls from the bank but whoever was in front of you.

with hard to miss piercings, silver rings that slipped passed the guards somehow and a discreet grin escaping her collected persona left the reply hanging in the air and led you to stare for longer than you should have.

you don't even know her but a recent memory surfaced. that thanos guy being rejected by her and making a fuss about it in front of everybody. you never even heard of him before. one hit wonder probably.

"oh, yeah. sorry, i was just thinking i guess," you muttered, rubbing your temple with a sigh.

"about?"

"nothing important," you replied flatly, regretting how it came off as.

"right, right. no biggie, thinking about if you'll be alive in the next 2 hours. a daily routine," she said in a sarcastic tone, causing you to roll your eyes. 

the presence next to you made you somehow feel smaller than the weight of bunk beds and entire room already did.

"do you need something?" you dragged the question out, looking down at the wrinkled fabric of the number trapped between her folded arms, "380?"

"se-mi," she tucked her head to the side and half smiled, still done in nonchalant manner. "and yeah, actually. wanna pair up?" 

you stared at her. if whatever this is goes right, and you're not being manipulated by a pretty figure facing you, although you don't mind at all, you must track down where this cocky confidence comes from. if it's normal and "i used to be in the army" story and not "i was a hitman" you will keep her close.

"aren't you with those guys?" you nodded your head towards the obvious purple hair guy and his crew amongst the mass. 

"that self proclaimed rapper? nah, i don't really swing that way," she played with her lip piercing before shifting her attention towards you once again.

"oh, you don't really swing that way? or did i get that wrong?"    she chuckled at your teasing tone and raised brows, "well, what can i say. it's kinda obvious. at least i hope so."

you squinted, amused and engaged. everything about her look screams the already mentioned but why not toy around more when there's nothing to lose. "obvious, huh? sure, whatever helps you sleep at night se-mi."

se-mi shrugged, took a quick glance as if someone's around. "i think i'm pretty clear about it. but since you're not convinced…" she leaned in slightly, dropping her voice just enough for only you to hear. 

"stick around and i'll prove it."

your stomach did the weird thing, the one you wouldn't let her—or anyone know about.

fixing your weight against the metal bed frame, you scoffed. "right. because this place is swarming with opportunities to show off."

grinning, she pushed off the frame and cut the distance between you to down to a cruel and agonizing one. strands of her hair naturally fell over her eyes but it did not do a good a job hiding the intimidating gaze. crowd blended into silence and you could not pick whether to blame yourself for being so weak in the matter of seconds or her for playing dumb games.

you're were not that easy to impress just a week ago.

so she spoke, lip ring somehow reflecting off the dim lighting this chamber has.

"i'm pretty good at getting what i want."

you bit back a nervous laugh, trying not to let her and this proximity overcome you. "and what is it that you want?"

your desperate attempt to sound civilized and composed was shitty, and se-mi read easily through it.

"say yes and you'll see."

her eyes flicked to yours, lingering just long enough to make you feel like you lost the high ground. then swiftly she stepped back, taking all the tension with her. finally you could let out a breath you held unaware.

but before you could respond, a voice tear through the room.

"players, prepare for the next game. you have 30 minutes."

the announcement sent a wave through the busy crowd. voices hushed, movements quickened and panic was apparent. your chest tightened, probably the worst thing about this is not knowing what's next. if you ever get out, announcement lady is on the top of the list.

se-mi looked at the speaker in the corner. you wanted to ask her what's on her mind but devil works faster.

"time's running out, sweetheart. hope you're skilled with decision making."

"and if i say no?" you knew damn well that's not an option.

se-mi slipped her hands into her pockets, cocked her head to the side with that damn grin. slow on her feet she walked backwards, leaving you more and more with each step and it stinged.

"loss for both of us. and my bed is that way, by the way."

you watched her disappear in the crowd that rushed on the steps and just as quickly you were surrounded too. maybe, just maybe this is more challenging than the money winning itself.

✰

the game already morphed into a hazy fever dream of adrenaline and blood. it was oddly silent, compared to just a few hours ago when the main floor was brimming with "life". or better, those alive. now everyone that came back scattered around the room.

you weren't sure who's blood was blending with your shoes or who's splatter stained your jacket.

and neither was se-mi. however, she didn't seem shaken up, as per usual.

she followed you close behind, making a beeline towards the bathroom. the air inside felt much colder than the outside and the contact with the freezing sink proved it. in the mirror you caught a sight of se-mi leaning against the tiles, bloodied but stoic.

top to bottom, covered in blood with a cut on her face that she smudged further. she ran her hand through the hair in attempt to fix it, stretching her neck in the process.

quiet whimpers escaped past her lips. she unzipped her jacket, looked at the mess made. floor. room. and back at you again. 

you admit you did look at her like a man starved. just blame it on the adrenaline. it's easier that way.

she clicked her tongue in fake disapproval, "no manners."

what a jerk.

"you're all bloody." you stated, hands working faster than your mind, already reaching for the paper.

"really?" she pretended to be puzzled. it made you sigh. "let's go in the stall."

"you don't—i can do it too, you know," now she felt slightly bad for making you more worried than you already are.  

she sat down on the toilet with a loud thump, no protests or fight. her muscles aching but you were no better. you closed the door behind you, this place making you more paranoid than ever. borrowing a second of your shared free time to look at the piece of work across you.

with each second passing you realized this silence, comfort and unspoken longing became a luxury here. se-mi took a note of it too.

deep inside she blames the gods for meeting a pretty girl in a state like this, desperate for money, careless about debts, bloody and tired in this awful bathroom. you're no better though. and it made her feel a bit better.    "what? do i look that bad?"

you snorted, shook your head no. slightly kneeled, you took the wet paper you gathered in one hand while holding the back of hear head with another. leaning in, you observed the cut on her face. a knife? no, unless someone smuggled it. you didn't see her in fight either.

a lack of self control let loose and your finger delicately ran across her cheek. blame it on just wanting to see how bad it hurts but she was no fool.

entire time she maintained eye contact. this is the closest she ever was. it's a funny thing to notice, she's not that hopeless. not in a outside world. actually, she doesn't wanna remember. 

your hand was cold but it felt right. the stall seemed to shrink with you in front of her. 

se-mi swore she could smell your perfume that still withstand these conditions. must be an expensive one. that's fine, 45.6 billion will cover it.

"you're shaking," her voice dropped and she teased. turning her head to the side, bemused.

"oh," you backed away lightly. "apologies. wasn't aware you graduated in body language." se-mi enjoyed this too much.

you took a deep breath and continued clearing her face. terrible at avoiding her gaze. "are you a hitman or something?" you started, truly curious.

"guessed it on the first try."    "sooo you're not? good."

"i'd definitely make everybody pay me big if i was and wouldn't end up here. why?" 

of course the smartass answer. 

"just wondering how the hell nothing about this seems to bother you. people dying, not knowing who's next, guards just headshoting everybody…" you carefully moved her face to the side, causing her to shudder shyly. 

"it was at first but there's a prize at the end. i think it's worth it. at least to get to the half of it. that was before i—whatever."

"yeah?" she watched you change positions and kneel down, all done with an innocent look boring through her. she doesn't know if it's on purpose or you're tired.

someone entered the bathroom and se-mi cursed them internally for distracting you but it also gave her spare time to stare. 

swallowing harshly, se-mi did not let her mind flatter now.

doors closed. losing the advantage she convinced herself she has, with a heavy sigh and a fuck it, she looked away and closed her eyes. "we're paired up now. so…yeah. i guess i kinda have things to lose."

feeling your movements halt, se-mi opened her eyes. maybe that was too far. 

"yeah, i-uh. same here." 

you felt her eyes boring holes as you sloppily cleaned up the papers and threw them away, feeling your body burning. 

everything about this was shitty. games, people, loneliness, food, voting. everything except this. yeah, she might look a little beat up with tired bags under her eyes but it was hopeful.

your shadow fell over her. the height difference meant nothing right now. neither of you moved. things unspoken seemed so, so obvious to both of you it was suffocating. she just hopes you don't treat this as a distraction.

"i—" se-mi did not let you finish. instead she got up with a newfound boldness, licked her lips and pondered. making you wonder what else is playing in her mind.

"thank you." it was sincere, raw. she took barely half a step closer in this cramped stall with dozen of obstacles around. you could feel the heat rising and hell if you weren't red yourself. 

"you know, you also got blood on your face." 

"do i?" not really, you checked yourself in the mirror. no?

"mhm," she confirmed and you almost missed it. again, se-mi closed the distance further. raised her hand to wipe the "blood" suspiciously close to your lips.

no, you definitely didn't have it.

"there." she barely smiled and your breath hitched. she picked up on it.

you felt drunk looking down at her lips. and you know what? you might die tomorrow for all you know.

"oh fuck you." 

it sounded and felt desperate, muffled by the four walls; the way you pulled her by the jacket and kissed her. metallic taste absorbing you whole and the chapped lips mixed with her metallic piercing. you're done for. 

se-mi smirked proudly against your lips, like her plan finally worked. too busy for good to answer her antics but enough to crush one of her plans which was her hungry grip around your waist. so she caged you with her arms around between the door and her body as you kept pulling her back in. no need because she already made up her mind she's not leaving anytime soon.

you traced your hands under her unzipped jacket that made her gasp. still feeling like she keeps her cool persona intact even now.

you took it as a chance to put your tongue to use. you weren't so experienced per se but it's natural talent. her on the other hand…

both of breaths blended into one and it felt hot, almost wrong. making you weak in your legs, forcing you to find a support behind her head. intertwining your fingers together, drawing her even further if possible clearly left no more gap present.

your bodies connected fully, se-mi was so lost yet too aware of everything you did. your touch was setting her on fire everywhere at once, teeth bumping in rush, small noises you made and she doesn't recall last time she took a full breath.

out of nowhere you felt a knee pressing between your legs, making you to throw your head back harshly and let out a moan that se-mi had to cut short. unfortunately.

there was too much going for the door to handle and keep it low-key.

"come here, you're too loud." se-mi whispered, catching up her breath as she sat back down again. 

"and that's my fault?" you regret saying that because you weren't sure if she even understood you.

gasping and impatient was the sight of se-mi, lazily sprawled and hair messy. a genuine thought of staying here until guards have to break down the doors sounded pleasing.

each leg on her side, her hands instantly wrapped around you and lips chased for more. she's just as hopeless as you in the end. your body flinched upon feeling her hands sneak under your shirt. making a tour, stopping at your waistband. it was attentive, studying your reactions carefully, less in rush now. she was in control.

se-mi left your lips for a while, kissing path down your jaw to focus on your neck. she's glad you can't read minds.

your hand found hers buried under your shirt, hinting at whatever she has in mind to make it true. "we might be in a bathroom stall but i'm still a gentleman." you felt her hot whisper hit your ear.

"w-what?"

"can i?" she looked at you with a darkened gaze, twisting a knot in your stomach. at this point you had no energy but to groan and nod yes, letting your head fall on her shoulder if it wasn't for her grabbing your jaw and making you lock eyes. 

what you said about her demeanor, you take it back.

"no, no. speak." briskly she nestled in the crook of your neck and licked a stripe there. 

"i…you're a tease." the answer was transparent.

chatter from the outside made you freeze vaguely, se-mi kept her pace on. "you gotta be quiet now."

her fingers slipped past the tight band, further and further. cold metal of her rings added to the feeling. you whined but se-mi shut you up with a kiss. she leaned her forehead against yours, a smug look on her face since she's leading the game.

her fingers made contact with your core, maybe if you just let out a scream right now you'd scare those women away.

"it's okay, you can do it." it did not help.

"please se-mi, i can't—" 

the second doors closed, she wasted no time slipping her fingers into you. you held onto her collar like a lifeline, head thrown back and air knocked out.

se-mi was mesmerized. wished it was a club rather than a place you have to get knocked out and drugged to be taken to. she will get you two outta here any means.

hitting all the right spots, distracting you with kisses and wandering hand you're about to collapse. "i'm-i'm close—"

"i know, i know," so she sped up, watching you fall apart, hitched breath in her ear so addicting, soft pleas she can't answer and oblige right now, hands gripping her hair. she'd take her time if she had one, hoping these cameras have decency so she can save you only for herself.

the least she can do in this short time is fix your shirt and jacket and pray you're coherent. "no worries, i don't leave a lady just like that but we gotta get out."

"hmm? sure, just give me a moment."

she chuckled, "not in that way. i'll tell you when we get back."

[welcometoteyvat]

wahoo finally “”””caught up”“““““ on fontaine leaks

[lulunothulu]

Always Second Choice

A/N: I’ve been in such a fluffy mood omg. Please enjoy a fantasy I’ve been thinking about all day.

TW: PURE FLUFF, some alcohol use, sad boi hours, sappiness, BUT HAPPY ENDING 💗

“Why can’t I be someone that a person loves first?”

You’d had a wild night of drinking with Phoenix after running into your ex. Seeing him always made you want to go all out, mainly because you wanted to forget about him and what he did to you. It’d been a year since you caught him in bed with another woman and you still freak out whenever you run into him at the grocery store.

Tonight wasn’t an exception. You had called Natasha to come drink with you—who called Bradley and Jake—because you desperately needed to take shots of tequila after you saw your ex with the girl he cheated on you with. She was pregnant.

“Why couldn’t he have loved me?” You had cried after three shots. “Why wasn’t I the one he chose? Why am I always someone’s second choice?”

After another three and a half shots, Jake told you to call it night.

That was the thing about Jake, he was one of the best friends you could ever ask for. No matter what—or who— he was doing, he dropped everything to make sure you were okay and safe. It’s part of the reason why you fell for him, and hard. He was the first person you’d fully loved with your whole heart. But given that you both worked together and he saw you strictly as a friend, you knew it wouldn’t have worked. And then there was his man-whore ways. He wouldn’t give that up to be with someone—let alone you.

You had drunkenly told an extremely inebriated Nat and Bradley a sloppy goodbye before Jake scooped you up and over his shoulder and gentle walked and placed you in his truck.

He’s carried you up the stairs of your shared two bedroom house and gently laid you on your bed. Even helping you undress and put on an oversized t-shirt with some basketball shorts.

“I’ll be right here if you need me,” he told you before kissing your forehead and smoothing your hair.

“You promise?” You asked.

“I promise, darling.”

You had woken up with a startle and began to panic before realizing you were home and in your bed. Flashes of the night popped into your mind and you groaned before remembering that Jake was on the floor of your room.

“Jake,” you whisper. You knew he’d still be there. He promised he would.

“Yeah?” He groggily whispers back. He must’ve been asleep.

“Why did you bring me home? Don’t you have people to see?”

“Kinda,” he groans as he sits up from the carpeted floor and turns to look at you with squinted eyes. “And I brought you home because you were babbling at the bar.”

“Oh, why are you still here? I thought you were on a date?” You ask.

“You remember that?” He chuckled. “You had nearly seven shots.”

“It’s all kinda popping into my mind,” you admit. “I’m sorry I kept you from her, whoever she was.”

“It’s fine. I was gonna cancel our hookup anyway.”

“Why?” You dared to ask.

“I had better things to be doing,” he says, turning those green eyes on you with so much kindness, you felt like you were melting.

You turn away abruptly and nod, feeling your hair fall around your face. You feel Jake’s fingers brush against your forehead before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with a smile.

“Now what did you mean at the bar?” Jake asks. “You know, about being someone second choice?”

You hesitate. As much as you loved Jake, you damn sure were not going to be telling him this...at least not now.

"Nothing, I was drunk as hell," you say instead.

Jake lifts a brow before sighing and standing from the floor, looking down at you from the side of the bed. "Scoot over, the floor is hard as fuck."

You laugh but scoot over, allowing Jake to climb into bed with you with a loud sigh. His arm brushes next to your arm before settling on top, his hand squeezing yours.

"You're my first choice," he whispers.

Your heart flutters at the thought of being his first choice but then stops when you realize he probably means it in a platonic way.

"Thanks," you mutter. "At least I'm someone's first choice."

Jake shuffles to face you, a frown forming on his brow. "I mean it, Y/N. You're my first and only choice."

"Okay, Jake." You're not convinced but at least the heart was in the statement.

"Y/N," he starts, cupping your face. "Why do you think I cancelled my date?"

"To take care of my drunk ass," you chuckle.

"No," he smiles. "Because I'd hate to know Bradley's hands were the ones drying your tears, dressing you. I hate the thought of having anyone other than me taking care of you. You're my girl."

"Your girl?"

"My number one," he starts. "My day one. My ride or die. My love. Don't think I haven't noticed how annoyed you get when I'd pick up girls at Hard Deck."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You couldn't believe Jake was telling you this, that he noticed your annoyance.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask.

He caresses your cheek before whispering, "You know why."

"No, I don't," you whisper back.

"Then let me show you."

Before you can react, Jake is sitting up and pressing his lips onto your forehead. He peppers kisses down your cheeks and nose before hovering over your lips. He’s panting softly, smiling down at you before he fully leans in.

His soft lips brush against yours and tentatively peck at them. Only when you wrap an arm around his neck does he deepen the kiss, smothering you in the best way imaginable.

His lips are wander and explore yours like an archeologist would an Egyptian tomb. His tongue pushes past your lips, wrestling with your own the taste of alcohol mixed with something sweet lingering.

Jake snakes his hand to the back of your neck, cradling your head in his hand.

“Oh, Y/N.” He moans into your mouth. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you.”

See to him, you’ve been the girl he’s been dreaming about. The one he thinks of before he goes to bed. The one he needed to distract himself from because he didn’t feel like you had feelings for him. He’s loved you from the very moment you walked onto the tarmac and chewed his ass out for flying recklessly. He’s loved you every day, every minute, every second.

Only now, when he saw you crying about being chosen second, did he think to make his move.

To hell with the friendship. He wanted more.

“Jake,” you breathlessly reply when he kisses down your neck. “You can’t mean that. It’s the alcohol talking.”

He stops kissing you, looking deep into your eyes and turning serious.

“Y/N, when I tell you I’ve been waiting to kiss you, I mean it. From the moment you walked onto the tarmac two years ago, to now. Now god damnit, let me kiss you.”

So you did.

[stealingyourbones]

Lois Lane has been reporting for many many years and has seen things both in her career and in her daily life that most folks could never imagine.

For instance, right now she's being held captive by Parasite AGAIN and is waiting for Superman to help her out of this. It's the same old rhythm that it's always been. Be captured, get tied up, wait, Superman rushes in, fights the bad guy of the day, incapacitates the bad guy, and frees her.

So far she's gotten to step two of the rhythm. Now she just needs to wait for-

Lois startles as the ropes binding her glow a faint green and fall to the floor. She turns to find whoever freed her...

That's no Superman.

Standing behind Lois, a semi transparent young girl with bright green eyes and glowing white hair silently holds her finger to her lips and holds out her hand for Lois to take.

Lois has had wilder rescues. She accepts the little girl's outstretched hand. She's ready to get out of here.

[cuteandhughesy]

Baby Please Come Home | Vince Dunn

summary: you've always had a crush on your best friends older brother, even though you're pretty sure he isn't that fond of you. so when your parents flight gets canceled while they're away on vacation, you are graciously invited to spend the christmas holiday with your best friends family - vince and his sour attitude included. 

20.5k

warnings: NSFW! enemies to lovers | slow burn| best friends older brother | angst | rude!vince | alcohol | mature themes | kissing | smut | thigh riding | grinding | unprotected!p in v intercourse | read at your own discretion!

a/n: the beginning of cute and hughesy’s christmas special! hope you enjoy the first week 🎄

link to masterlist

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2014: freshman year of highschool

the noises around you are distracting - a mixture of loud laughter and singing, combined with the bass riddled music vibrating through your bones on top of the various conversations happening around you.

you eye the mingling crowd around you, watching as teenagers older than you easily chat to one another. they don't look worried or anxious - they look nothing like you're feeling.

"I didn't think they still played games like this in highschool." you best friend sammy says into your ear, her tone hushed as to not attract attention to either of you.

"me either." you admit gently. "but clearly they do."

she huffs, crossing her arms over her red top. sammy has been your best friend since the first grade when her mom and dad moved their family down the street from yours. obviously you both attended the same small town school, and since then you two have been inseparable.

sammy has always been the type of girl that everyone loves. she's the sweetest soul you've ever known, but she's not afraid to stand up for herself and tell somebody off if they need to hear it. not only does she have the most amazing personality, but she's ungodly beautiful. with her thick and shiny dark hair, as well as her naturally tinted lips, and long lashes framing her large, green eyes - she's ethereal.

ever since the two of you started your freshman year of high school four short months ago, she has been getting lots of attention, especially from the senior boys. to be ultra specific, the high school hockey team in particular was the most fond of sammy - regardless of how she was related to the assistant captain.

much to sammy's older brother vince's dismay, the hockey team had invited sammy to this party that the two of you were currently at. you weren't technically extended an invitation, but sammy would've never gone to her first high school party without you - so here you both are.

you don't know what you were expecting at a high school party. sure, the alcohol and weed was something that was a given, but sitting on the floor with various hockey players and senior girls while you all took turns spinning a bottle - well that was surprising.

the game of spin the bottle happening in front of you was definitely the cause of your growing nerves. because not only did you have to spin the bottle and kiss whoever it landed on - but you and sammy were informed you'd be spending '7 minutes in heaven' with said person, where the kiss would actually take place, rather than infront of everyone.

so that had your nerves dampening slightly - but the kissing part of it all was still having you feeling anxious - the mere fact that you haven't had your first kiss yet was the main contributor.

"do you think jake and I will end up in the closet?" sammy giggles softly, her eyes drifting to the other side of the circle where jake matthews is chatting with vince, leisurely sipping his beer - paying no mind to the game happening right in front of him.

you shrug, your eyes also trained in their direction. "well if he spins and It lands of you - those are the rules right?"

sammy then starts to get giddy like she usually does when thinking and talking about jake matthews and she immediately starts whispering to you about how he's her future husband and how much she's in love with him.

at the same time, as if he can feel your stare from the other side of the circle, vince's eyes flicker to yours. thankfully his conversation with jake doesn't stop because jake is the one who's doing most of the talking, so nobody takes notice to the way vince is looking at you.

sammy's words are falling on deaf ears unbeknownst to her - the gaze you are locked in with her brother has completely captivated your attention.

like usual vince doesn't smile or acknowledge you in any way, he just keeps his eyes on you, almost as if he was assessing you through the strangers dimly lit living room.

you squint at him accusingly - as if to ask what's his deal. you're not expecting any type of response because you've never gotten one from vince in regards to his grumpy persona - the grumpy persona he seems to only have around you.

"are you listening?" sammy elbows you in the side. your black knitted sweater provides no cushion as her elbow smacks against your ribs, and it effectively has you breaking eye contact with vince.

"what?" you hiss, rubbing your side.

"it's your turn." sammy's eyes widen and her gaze frantically switches between you and the empty beer bottle sitting in the middle of the carpet.

you can feel your face pale and heat up all at the same time. it shouldn't be as big of a deal as you feel it is - but you can't help your mind and heart from racing, your blood pumping loudly through your ears.

almost everyone in the circle was looking in your direction, waiting for you to take your turn.

"right." clearing your throat, you push up off your butt and do an awkward crawl combined with a reach to grab ahold of the empty bottle.

you give it a good spin, watching it swivel with momentum on top of the fuzzy textured rug. you move back into your seated position, not once taking your eyes of the direction of the spinning glass.

it slows and only makes it around one more complete circle before stopping. when sammy gasps quietly and the group all wolf whistles around you, your nerves max out. you don't want to look up and find who your spin has landed on - you're scared to see who it landed on and the reaction around you wasn't helping.

reluctantly you follow the direction of the bottles neck, looking upwards until you are met with the familiar green eyed gaze of your best friends older brother.

your face falls in shock - mimicking the expression on vince's face who too looks very unimpressed with the outcome of your bottle spin.

you attempt to spin again, asking if it was possible with these seemingly strict rules set by the hockey team - but no. much to your and vince's dismay nothing works and you're both ushered into one of the empty bedrooms for your required '7 minutes in heaven.'

the door clicks shut behind you, and your nerves have you feeling slightly wobbly and lightheaded. this wasn't the situation you were expecting tonight and you certainly weren't prepared to spend 7 minutes in heaven with your best friends older brother.

but vince doesn't seem to be too bothered with the situation now that he's in the room, his earlier shocked expression faded away. vince sits down before he flips backwards onto the perfectly made bed, closing his eyes and loudly exhaling.

you knaw on your lip, trying to think of something to say. he's clearly annoyed with this whole situation, because he seems to always be annoyed with you - you swear you could polish his shoes and cook him his favourite meal and he'd still give you that dead stare.

in a desperate attempt to try and ease the thick tension that's everlasting between you (even though you've never had a clue as to why), you move towards vince and nudge your foot against his.

one eye opens as he peeks up at you, a questioning raise to his eyebrow. he doesn't say anything, and he doesn't move - his foot still touching yours.

"i'm sorry," you start, "I should've tried harder to convince everyone to let me spin again. i've never been to a party before though and I didn't want to upset anyone - especially because I wasn't technically invited and only came because sammy wanted me to."

vince still doesn't say anything. he pushes up with his elbows, back into his original sitting position at the end of the bed. he looks up at you blankly, and like usual he's not giving away any of his emotions.

the position has you feeling awkward - you looking down at vince while he silently and lazily blinks up at you. you wring your hands out and take a seat beside him, the mattress dipping until you're sliding into his torso.

your nervous ramble continues. "although maybe I should be happy the bottle landed on you instead of some other asshole who probably would've started groping me by now - like how embarrassing would it have been turning down evan russell because I haven't even had my first kiss yet, never mind hooking up-"

"you've never been kissed?" vince interrupts you.

you heat up, a bright pink hue covering your cheeks and up to the tips of your jewelry decorated ears. "no...and obviously these lips won't be touching evan russell's anytime soon. at least not until I can properly and confidently go into a situation like this-" you gesture between the two of you wildly "-without my stomach falling down to my feet."

vince hums quietly to himself, and his eyes dance over your face slowly - analyzing you. "you talk way too much."

your head snaps completely over in his direction, and your eyebrows pull together in irritation. "excuse you. I don't talk too much, what are you even saying right now-"

vince kisses you.

he confidently pulls you closer towards him with a guiding hand on the back of your neck, his fingers sliding through your hair in a way that gives you goosebumps. his lips are soft and taste like cheap beer, but the way he licks onto your bottom lip expertly has you completely captivated and not even the reality of the situation could snap you out of it.

vince kisses softer than you expected - a complete contrast to his hard exterior. the way his lips move against yours is almost comforting and relaxing and although you have absolutely nothing to compare it to - it feels good.

you breathe shakily against him, the unexpected pleasure from a simple kiss taking you by surprise.

the door opens and you both jump apart. vince immediately gets off the bed and walks out the room, brushing past a few of the guys from the hockey team - mumbling something to them you don't catch. vince doesn't spare you a second glance as he leaves, and that has you feeling very uncertain and confused.

you get up, ignoring the guys snickering and eyes as you walk down the hallway and back into the main area of the house. even though you'd technically been caught making out with vince, nobody had seemingly saw anything that proves it and by the bored look on everyone's faces from sitting through another 7 minutes of waiting around, they don't suspect anything.

you return to the circle, taking your original seat beside sammy, she instantly turns to you with her eyes blow wide. "are you okay? did anything happen?"

you can only pray your best friend doesn't notice your rose tinted cheeks or puffy lips - incriminating evidence that contradicts your shaking head. "no. nothing happened."

sammy laughs with relief for you. "thank god - my brother is so disgusting."

"yeah." you laugh softly.

the rest of the night, vince doesn't meet your gaze.

it has you feeling very icky and....confused. is this a usual occurrence after making out with somebody you've known your whole life? was vince kissing and not following up with any sort of interaction a normal thing for him?

so hours later, way after vince's mom had picked you all up from the party and brought you back to the dunn house (vince had hockey practice early, of course), you were determined to figure out what the hell happened in that bedroom and what it meant.

getting out of the creaky bed, you sneak out of sammy's room, leaving her and her loud snoring behind in favour of quietly making your way down the upstairs hallways - down towards closed door of vince's bedroom.

you knock once - quietly - on his door, praying that he's not yet gone to sleep and he heard your knock.

thankfully, vince answers. the door opens just a crack, his brows pulled together in confusion as he catches sight of your familiar stature through the gap - his face falls.

he pulls open the door fully, revealing his shirtless torso and pyjama pants that sat dangerously low on his chiseled hips. momentarily you're distracted. you can't help it - your teenage hormones are out of whack after that toe curling first kiss.

"what?" he huffs, crossing his arms.

you mimic his actions subconsciously. "are you going to talk to me after that?"

his brows raise questionably. "after....?"

"after you kissed me, vince."

he hums. "right, the kiss - why would I want to talk about it?"

you shrug, exasperated. "maybe because you and I have never done that before - I've never done that before."

"and?" he's looking at you expectantly.

"and," you huff, "I don't know what it means."

his face changes into something you can't decipher - maybe guilt, or possibly anger. it could even be a new version of his usual bored expression - you're not sure. vince exhales, and his arms uncross in favour of running a hand through his messy curly hair.

he meets your unsure eyes. "it means nothing, y/n. you're my little sisters best friend, okay? nothing will ever happen between us. and I know it was your first kiss or whatever, but it wasn't mine. I only kissed you so you'd stop talking, so don't be weird or annoying about it 'cause it's going to piss me off."

vince's words have you taking a visible step back, your face pulling uncomfortably as embarrassment crawls up your chest.

even though vince has never been your biggest fan, you've always liked him. there was something about vince that always has you feeling drawn in, and you always find yourself spotting him in a crowd or looking for him in a room full of others.

he was your first real crush and ever since you met him back when you were 8 and vince was turning 11, you've found yourself completely smitten with him - regardless of his grumpy and rude attitude directed towards you.

so hearing those words hurt. because after the kiss - a kiss that he initiated- you thought there could've been a small possibility that he changed his opinion of you...that he liked you back.

but clearly not.

"it doesn't matter what I do because it will piss you off regardless." you spit out, looking at him with a completely different view than you ever have before.

all vince does is roll his eyes - and that is the final nail in your coffin.

you should've given up on trying to crack vince dunn a long time ago, but the way he turned such an amazing first experience for you into a heartbreaking story is something you'll never forget- vince will forever be apart of you, no matter how badly you try to change it.

"are you done throwing a hissy fit now? i'm tired."

"yeah," you send him a sarcastic smile, the anger towards him and the situation practically vibrating off you, "i'm done."

you walk away, back down the hall in the direction of sammy's room. from this day forward, you vow to yourself to never treat vince with any less disrespect than he shows you.

you will never like vince dunn again.

christmas: 2024, december 21st

"are you guys serious right now?"

"yes honey, there's nothing we can do." your moms burnt skin is practically blinding you through the facetime video, and you can hear her beaded braids clicking against one another as he peeks over your dads shoulder.

through the phone, your dad sends you a guilty look. "because of the island's location, they only have flights once a week and due to the storm down here all flights have been cancelled for today and won’t make it out until next week."

you make a disgruntled noise, "but that will be after christmas. so i'm just supposed to spend christmas alone? - my first christmas since evan dumped me, let's not forget that mom and dad."

"i'm sorry dolly," your mom pouts, "we are upset about it too."

"yeah well at least you get to be together and spend time on a tropical island. i'm stuck in a constant freezing temperature by myself."

"don't make us feel bad honey." your dad scolds gently. it's a reminder that it's not your parents fault for their flight getting cancelled regardless of how upset you are.

you're still a little salty towards them for not bringing you on their vacation so close to christmas though, so you're allowed to feel a little annoyed.

you sigh gently, "I know i'm sorry, this just sucks." your eyes drift past your phone, finding the twinkling lights of your childhood christmas tree. your mom insists on having all the shitty ornaments you made when you were a kid still on the tree, accompanied by twinkling red and green lights that she's had since before you were born. the angel on top is missing a wing and the tree skirt is ripped but you wouldn't change it for the world.

another wave of sadness hits you as the reality sets in - you're about to be alone on christmas.

"I know - ah crap my phones about to die." your dad curses, and through the screen you watch him attempting to get rid of the low battery notification.

your mom rolls her eyes at your dads antics before she looks back at you through your phone. "we love you honey, we're sorry."

"I love you guys too."

"keep in touch, okay."

you give your parents a small smile, resting your cheek against your palm. "I will."

your parents hang up - you're not sure if it was them pressing the button or if your dads phone died, but your screen returns to normal as your mom and dads faces disappear.

you sigh gently. the house feels more empty than it did when you answered the call, knowing that you'll now be alone in it until after the holiday season is just...depressing. if this was any other year you would've invited your boyfriend over for the holiday, or perhaps you would've stayed with him and his family - but evan russell broke up with you four months ago after your college graduation.

dating one of the guys on the senior boys hockey team in high school was one of those things you weren't expecting to happen, but it just weirdly did and it worked. you two started seeing one another not long after that party where you and vince kissed - which still sends your blood boiling, by the way. evan has asked you out one day after class, and dating one of his friends pissed vince off even more.

you and evan dated for years - all through high school and college. but two weeks after your graduation, he called it off and said he needed to explore being himself and wished you well. although the breakup hurt and felt very unexpected, you respected evan and wanted what was best for him. that was until a week after the breakup you saw him posting pictures with his new girlfriend - and the respect vanished.

you open your text thread with sammy and click on the camera icon. you take a picture of yourself pouting in front of the christmas tree, looking very alone and very sad in your elf pyjamas.

y/n

these are my new christmas plans

sammy

what? wearing pyjamas still at 3 in the afternoon ?

y/n

no.

y/n

being alone on christmas. my parents flight got canceled and because the island is super remote they can't get another flight in until boxing day

y/n

so leave me and my christmas jammys alone

sammy

I love your jammys

sammy

but WHAT omg - you're not spending christmas alone

y/n

nothing I can do about it sammy

immediately after she reads the text, you get an incoming facetime call from sammy - the picture of her when she was 15 with spaghetti sauce all over her face you saved as her contact photo flashing on the screen.

you slide the answer bar, already expecting the brazen look she'll be sporting. but oddly enough, she's got an unsettling smirk on her face and you're immediately groaning. "why are you looking like you're planning on kidnapping me?"

"because I'm going to kidnap you," sammy laughs, and through the camera you watch as she sits up into a more straight position on the family couch. "mom says get over here."

just then tracy dunn pops over her daughters shoulder. she's got her apron on and you can spot the explosions of flour on the christmas cover up - she's clearly been starting early on her holiday baking. tracy gives you a stern look, "y/n honey you're not spending christmas alone - especially when you have family right here in this house. pack a bag and one of us will come get you."

in your junior year of high school sammy and the dunn family moved. thankfully, they stayed in your small southern ontario town, but instead of living two houses down from you and your family, they became a twenty minute drive away.

the garland in the doorway above sammy's head twinkles, and another pang of christmas blues hits you. a warm and inviting home with some of your favourite people was something you definitely couldn't pass up.

you eye sammy and her mom and a smile begins to grow at your lips. "okay, I'll put some stuff together for a few days."

"you're staying until your parents get back - sammy said boxing day, right?"

sammy's such a little snitch, you think. to prove your point, your best friend sends you a triumphant smile through the phone.

"yes but I don't want to oppose-"

"that's ridiculous," tracy interrupts, "you could never. sammy hang up the phone and stop distracting her, she needs to pack."

"alright." sammy moves the phone so that only she's in view, that cheeky smile still on her face. "you better go."

you nod, "if you think i'm changing out of these pyjamas though you'd be wrong."

she laughs, "i'll see you soon."

"see you soon, sammy."

she hangs up and you're immediately pushing off the couch. you pack your things as quickly as you can, gathering a weeks worth of clothes, toiletries and your favourite one direction pillow - you figure if you forget anything you can just steal sammy's.

just as you've double checked everything unnecessary is unplugged from any of the outlets, a horn honks outside - two quick beeps that alert you. you peek out the front window and see sammy's blue toyota idling in your driveway.

you grab your bag, pillow and your house keys before slipping on your winter gear over your movie themed pyjamas - the bottoms bulking up around your boots in a way that makes you look wildly non put together.

you walk wearily through the icy snow coating your driveway. you've never been good at removing snow, and you honestly should've left it and not attempted to shovel the driveway - because now you're walking on uneven, slippery, half completed snow piles.

you get in the car quickly, rubbing your hands together to create some friction - attempting to warm up your already freezing fingers. you pause to shut the car door, as well as buckle your seat belt over your puffy jacket.

the car is pulling out of your driveway before you can even fathom your surroundings. sammy has always been a nervous driver, especially in the winter, so her speedy take off has you frowning in confusion.

as you finally look towards the driver's side of the car, your face falls and suddenly the driving style makes sense.

vince eyes you quickly before finding the snow covered street again. "nice pyjamas."

"what are you doing here?"

"what am I doing here?" he repeats your question with a stupid smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he uses one hand to turn onto the main road. "i'm picking you up."

"no I mean what are you doing back home?"

vince shoots you an inquisitive glance. "you kind of just answered the question - it's my home."

"no," you correct, "seattle is your home."

"you keeping tabs on me, y/n?" he's clearly trying to get a rise out of you and you know him too well for that tone to fly under your radar. since that dreaded kiss between you both in high school, vince's attitude towards you changed - well, sort of. instead of the quite and bored attitude vince had for you, it has turned into something more mocking and insulting where he seemed to go out of his way to annoy you and push your buttons.

but you vowed to not give him the satisfaction of your ignorance and just ignore him - absolutely not. so you made sure you were just as petty and reciprocated every comment, action and insult. "I don't have to keep tabs on you to know you've been in seattle for a few years vincent - did you get injured again? is that why you're here?"

he tongues his cheek, rolling his eyes at your jab. "no, my schedule worked out so I can be home until boxing day."

your eyes widen, "so you'll be here the entire week?"

"don't sound too excited." vince breathes out a laugh, eyes flickering to yours again. "or I'll start to think you like my company."

"like is a very strong word." you sigh irritatedly and cross your arms. your coat makes that awkward friction noise, and all that does is further your annoyance. you turn your head to watch through the window - the sights of snow covered branches glistening in the sun, combined with the glowing lights of christmas light up the dimming sky.

you hear vince move after he makes the turn off the highway, and the sound of some shitty country song gets louder over the cars speakers. vince has always loved country, which has obviously ruined any kind of country song for you - you pray for a day when you can listen to old taylor swift without thinking of vince dunn.

the loud music has you huffing and you break your silent treatment in favour of turning down the radio - blanketing the inside of the toyota in silence.

vince shoots you an unamused look and before he has a chance to speak, or worse, turn the song back on, you interrupt him. "it's christmas, at least play something festive if I have to be trapped in this car with you for another 10 minutes."

"by all means, go ahead and get out of the car. i'll even slow down a bit so you don't hurt yourself too bad jumping out." he gestures to the car door beside you, his eyes darting quickly between you, the road, and the door.

"oh wow and here I thought you enjoyed being in here with me - I'm hurt, vincent, really." you hold your heart for a petty affect, pouting sarcastically over at him.

he laughs, a deep grumbling noise that has your smile faltering slightly. "oh please it's not like i'm here voluntarily-"

"that's a big word - who taught you that one?" you interrupt him, furthering your closed off position by crossing your pyjama covered legs. you merely miss the dial on the radio with your foot, and your anklet slides up your calf awkwardly.

the new position has your pant leg shifting so your leg is somewhat exposed. you feel momentarily embarrassed at the sight of your pale and prickly leg and instantly have the urge to change your seating position. but you don't, because you don't want vince to think you're uncomfortable- you can't give him that sort of satisfaction.

"nobody else could pick you up. that's why I'm here." vince continues right from where he left off, before you interrupted him about his 5th grade vocabulary.

you had already assumed that was the reason for vince's suprise arrival. with tracy always elbow deep in baking this time of year, john working the late shift this week and sammy's hectic winter driving - vince was the only option (even though you didn't know he was an option until he showed up - you figured he'd be in seattle like every other year).

"well If I knew that I would've stayed home." you huff.

vince eyes your boot covered foot as you anxiously shake it - with every jump it almost hits the volume dial. he mimics your deep sigh and rolls his eyes. "I wish you would've."

you don't say anything and keep your eyes trained through the front windshield. as dinner time approaches, the streets are starting to become enveloped in darkness, leaving you with that blue christmas light longing.

you can feel vince's gaze switching between the side of your face and the road, and you know it's only a matter of seconds before he spews some more nonsense that will leave you wanting to actually throw yourself out the car.

like predicted, vince starts to speak again, his unfortunately familiar voice filling the quiet rumble in the car. "how come you're not spending christmas with evan anyways? I saw that he was back home."

your head snaps in vince's direction so quickly you think there's a high possibility you've given yourself whiplash. you attempt to read his expression- trying to figure out if he was egging you on with bringing up your failed relationship or if he actually didn't know.

you decide it's the latter based on the way vince isn't even looking at you while he waits for a response, and his eyebrows are pulled together as he focuses on driving through the deep snow - he’s not watching you for a reaction.

you clear your throat quietly and look back to the road. "spending the holidays with my ex and his new girlfriend would've been a bit awkward, don't you think?"

he looks at you quickly, an unreadable expression on his flushed face . "I didn't know."

"why would you know? it's not like you would've asked about me for anything besides trying to benefit yourself."

you don't give him the opportunity to say anything else and you reach over yourself to turn the volume back up. to your surprise, vince has christmas music in his playlist and the familiar melody of michael buble fills the car.

the rest of the car ride neither you or vince say anything and choose to stew in the slightly awkward silence - the awkwardness being from the bombshell you've just dropped that you're no longer dating his friend from high school. thankfully he doesn't turn off the music like you'd done to him earlier, and the songs provide a comfortable white noise over everything else.

once vince pulls the car into his families driveway, you're immediately jumping out, grabbing your bag and pillow you'd left at your feet and booking it up the small set of stairs and into the cinnamon scented home.

you spot sammy who is still lounging in the same spot that she was in when you answered her call 30 minutes ago.

she meets your eyes and sends you a mix of a guilty and sympathetic smile, as if she was apologizing for the pain she knew you would've endured with vince picking you up without warning.

"you dick." you huff towards her. "no warning or anything?" your words have no bite as you're plopping yourself between the back of the couch cushions and sammy, cuddling into your best friends side.

she laughs, "If I told you, you wouldn't of gotten in the car."

you shrug. "would that have been so bad?"

sammy scoffs, "yes because we need you here with us for christmas."

you emit a grumbling noise and tuck your face further into your best friends side. sammy laughs again, patting your head sympathetically.

sammy has never been bothered by your ongoing battle with her older brother. in the beginning, she was just as confused as you were about his seemingly unwarranted negative attitude and sammy would often try and change his mind about you. but as the years went on and you and vince got more heated, she just accepted the fate and chose to be blissfully ignorant towards any negative situation or argument that brews between you.

vince walks through the front door with you purse clutched in his hands - you must've forgotten it in your rush to leave the tension stewing in the car.

he shoots you an unimpressed look and tosses the bag near your outstretched socked feet. you have the tiniest urge to pick up your purse and throw it back right in his face, but your contemplation is halted as tracy enters the warmly lit living room, a matching smile on her face.

"you guys hungry?"

you look away from vince and his condescending smirk - like he could read your thoughts - and force a smile.

"starving." sammy jumps away from you and off the couch, her sock feet bounding around the corner and down towards the kitchen nook.

your cheek hits the cushion, smooshing your face into the fabricated sofa. vince snickers from where he's lounging on the lazy boy, and you're pretty sure his snickering is directed at you and your awkward pose.

you sigh, pushing off the couch with the palms of your hands until you can manoeuvre back onto your feet. you tug down the hem of your pyjamas top, pulling it back into a more appropriate position from where it had risen up.

you follow in your friends footsteps and make the short journey down the wide hallway until you reach the large archway entrance of the cosy kitchen. the sight before you is memorizing, and you pause to look around. tracy had completely decorated the kitchen for the holidays - faux trees and garland lining the countertops, along with red plaid hand towels and table cloth. ribbons, dried orange garland, and the scent of gingerbread are all apart of making the kitchen feel like the warmest, comforting, festive space.

"looks amazing tracy." you say, your eyes still walking throughout the room. "like seriously."

tracy smiles, adding another platter to the just as festive kitchen table - it looks like perfectly crispy bite sized potatoes and your mouth is already watering. since you're parents have been gone on vacation you've only been eating take out or frozen meals. you've never been a good cook - one time in college you almost set your microwave ablaze trying to heat up some pizza...you still don't know how that happened.

you hear vince's footsteps approaching behind you. he must've not been paying attention, because he runs right into the back of you, sending you stumbling a few steps forward.

you spin to face him, already feeling the irritated pull on your face.

vince huffs like you're the one who ran into him - which makes you want to knee him - and pockets his phone. clearly, you were right and he wasn't looking where he was going.

"vince," sammy's teasing voice calls from the stove, where she is dipping her fingers into the squash soup and sucking the creamy vegetable liquid off them. "better get out from underneath the mistletoe or else you'll have to kiss her."

her eyes gesture between her brother and you.

much to your dismay, there is some mistletoe delicately hung onto the archway above vince.

vince raises his eyebrow in question, but his face stays flat, not giving away any thoughts or emotions.

you turn away and finally walk further into the kitchen, immediately offering help to tracy with setting the table. after all, it's the least you could do after she invited you to stay with her and her family until christmas- plus it's gets you away from vince and his punchable face.

john gets home a few minutes later, greeting you all warmly. he doesn't even seem shocked by your presence in his home, and when you tell him you'll be staying for a few days - he's not at all fazed.

thankfully dinner doesn't leave space for you and vince to get into any type of tiff. you're too busy catching up with the rest of the dunn family to even look in vince's direction, which means you remain with an appetite for the entirety of dinner.

"oh!" tracy exclaims, jumping off her chair to gather a small jar set aside on the counter. it's ceramic and red, shaped like a gift. "I almost forgot, we have to pull the names for secret santa - and y/n honey don't worry i've slipped your name in here."

"oh, you didn't need to do that." you breathe, watching tracy take off the lid of the jar.

she dismisses you with a wave of her hand like she always does - a true mother like fashion. tracy makes her husband go first, and john digs around the pieces of paper for a few seconds for dramatic affect - tracy tuts her tongue at his antics.

john emerges with one slip, taking a sneaky peek at the name he pulled out. he groans playfully, thumping his palm against his forehead jokingly. it makes you and everyone else laugh, which was obviously johns goal because he snaps out of character to join in.

soon enough it's your turn and you take one of the only remaining pieces of paper. nobody has pulled their own name yet, so you're praying you keep that streak going so it doesn't have to start all over again.

you pull sammy - her full name written in bold black ink across the rectangle piece of paper. you celebrate internally, always happy to buy things for your best friend.

vince goes next, and he reaches into the almost empty present shaped jar. from your turn you know there's only one remaining name to be picked, so there's no shuffling around for the name. vince pulls out and reads his name. immediately his eyes flicker towards his sister.

sammy gasps, pointing to him like she has it all figured out. "you so have me."

tracy scolds her, "don't guess samatha, you're going to ruin it."

"he looked at me," sammy defends herself, "not my fault he can't keep a secret."

vince smirks, "you're so easily gullible."

"enough you two." tracy scolds gently, looking between her two children quickly. "or i'll make you pick new names."

you know for a fact that vince didn't pull sammy's name because you did, so you're a bit confused at what's he's trying to accomplish here. if you try and think of an answer you'll just be more annoyed with vince, so you you disregard his behaviour.

you tuck the slip of paper between your phone and the case, keeping it close and away from samantha nosy and wondering eyes.

soon enough you're all getting ready for bed, and even though there's one bathroom upstairs between vince and sammy - you thankfully don't run into him while brushing your teeth or washing your face.

you slip into bed beside sammy who's already snoring away - you swear she's the heaviest sleeper who will always fall asleep immediately- and turn off her beside lamp.

being in this house is so comforting and familiar and it's soothing the longing ache you'd felt earlier when your parents broke the news to you regarding not coming home for christmas. you're so thankful for your best friend and her parents for immediately offering you a seat in their home for the holidays - especially considering holiday was time reserved for family.

the only thing that keeps you from falling into a quick sleep was the lingering thought of vince. you can't stop replaying your conversations from today and all his snarky, petty comments and arguments and the way he looks down at you as if you were nothing to him.

you think you'll continue to try and keep yourself in control and try your absolute hardest in not letting your irritation get the better of you and lash out at vince - especially infront of tracy and john. you don't think they'll appreciate you and their son arguing after they invited you into their home.

december 22nd

the dunn's have always had a real christmas tree. when you were younger you used to beg your parents to get rid of the plastic one they'd had for 20 years and to take you to a christmas tree farm and pick out a real one.

but you never got one because your parents didn't want to deal with the mess, so you lived vicariously through sammy and her families real tree. sure, it was messy and you had to take care of it, but the smell of fresh pine made it all worth it.

yesterday when you arrived at the house you were too overwhelmed with the news about your parents and vince's suprise arrival you didn't notice the lack of that christmas tree smell you’d grown so accustomed to.

"well, we had to wait for vince to get home. once he told us he was going to be here for a few days, I thought it be better to wait and that way it would be like when you were both little - when we'd pick out a tree together." tracy smiles warmly, her hand clutched to her chest as she reminisced when her kids were younger, running through the tree farms.

"you're insane, mom." sammy says with a mouthful of milky cheerios - red and geeen coloured for the holidays.

"not insane," tracy squeaks, "just feeling sentimental that my babies are all grown up." she wraps her daughter in a hug over the kitchen chair, almost smacking sammy in the jaw in the process.

you smile, glancing over your shoulder at them. sammy is wide eyed, staring at you in a silent way of asking for help - you giggle gently as tracy starts to rock her back and forth. your attention is brought back to the toaster as you patiently wait for your waffles to pop.

"go hug your other baby, he's the one who's never home." sammy grumbles, scooping another spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

"where is vince anyways, we have to leave soon - vince, honey come downstairs!" tracy shouts out, her voice echoing out through the kitchen and up the stairs.

the thought of the oldest dunn sibling has your face pulling in disgust, and the idea of spending more time with him is already having you feeling worn out before the day has started. thankfully, your waffles pop and you concentrate on transferring them to your plate without burning yourself, rather than vince and his stupid face.

vince rounds the corner into the kitchen and surprisingly he's not in his pyjamas still - he’s wearing some nice light wash jeans and a black hoodie, which isn't very festive compared to your leggings and red reindeer printed sweater. thankfully tracy is matching your holiday spirit, and her sweater has a big gold bow on the front that shimmers in the sun - so at least you’re not the only one looking extra.

"honey, we are leaving soon. have you eaten?" tracy asks her son. she's currently packing her purse for all the things she thinks she'll need for the day, which you're not sure how a beatles cd will come in handy - but who knows. you are thankful for the extra socks though, because the chances of you shoving vince into a snow pile are very high.

"I'll have an apple." vince says.

you finish spreading the butter over the ridges of the waffles, the solid topping turning into a delicious liquid pool in each square of the waffle. you open the cupboard above your head where the syrup is kept (because who likes cold syrup?) but it's not on the reachable shelf it usually sits - it's on the very top shelf.

at first you don't think it'll be a challenge, you're not short by any means, but as you first attempt to reach the syrup, you come up short and you can't quite reach the bottle. you huff, pushing up on to your tiptoes to try and get ahold of the syrup- but somebody beats you to it.

vince is chewing the contents of his apple completely unfazed as he comes up beside you and grabs the syrup bottle. he places it beside your plate of waffles, and you have to take a deep breathe and tune out the sound of him crunching on the apple or you may just loose it.

you eye him, "I could've gotten it."

vince’s eyebrows raise and he swallows the chunk of apple. "oh well I can put it back up there and you can try and grab it. I found it quite amusing to watch you struggle."

"but yet you helped me?"

"thought Id try and spread some christmas cheer." vince shrugs and takes the last editable bite out of his apple, now left with only the browning core. instead of walking around to the garbage can sitting on the other side of you, vince tosses the core of his apple between you and the counter.

it merely misses you and getting sticky apple juice on your festive sweater, landing in the bottom of the garbage can with a loud smack.

you inhale loudly, shooting vince another pointed look. "could start by not attempting to hit me with something covered in your saliva."

vince smirks, crossing his arms. even his bulky hoodie can't hide the thick muscles he's maintained through the season, and you catch yourself staring. "you're the only girl I know who would protest that."

you make a gagging noise, turning you attention back to your waffle - which you haven't even attempted to dress with syrup yet.

john then walks into the kitchen, clad in his winter coat and boots. "the car is brushed off and the christmas tree farm is calling our names." he claps his hands together once, rubbing them together in anticipation. "everyone excited?"

tracy immediately answers her husband yes - just as cheerful as she's been all morning. sammy immediately drops her bowl in the sink, still full of milk, and runs off as she shouts something about needing to find the perfect coat for the farm.

amongst the slight chaos, vince turns to his father and grins suspiciously large. it already has your stomach bubbling with irritation, continuing to dread the day ahead. "so excited." vince expresses.

as his dad and mom start going over their mental check list for the day, vince looks back towards you - his vision pointed and teasing.

you only hold his gaze for a few antagonizing seconds before tearing your eyes away. the way vince can so easily irritate you, and know exactly what he’s doing is so frustrating to watch. you try and mask the scowl growing on your face by taking an angry bite of your syrupless waffle.

——

"vincent i'm one second away from shoving your head into the snow." you huff, sending him a pointed look over the puffed shoulder of your coat.

"do it," vince snickers, "because then I don't have to hear your voice anymore."

you grumble his words under your breath, deeply mocking him. vince doesn't seem to hear you though because he doesn't mumble anything back in retaliation. the silence gives you a moment of peace, saved from the tangent vince had just gone on - arguing with you about the height of the tree his mom wanted (it’s 7ft ceilings - there’s no argument.)

the smell of fresh pine trees and sticky sap is the only thing keeping you sane - truly. without the scent and christmas festivities all around you, you surely would've slammed your head in the door of john and tracy's minivan by now.

after a good half hour drive to the christmas tree farm and trying to not react to vince's overly expressive comments on the way, you figured you'd be free of the oldest dunn sibling for the next couple hours - but no.

sammy's boyfriend, logan, ended up showing up and sammy was quick to totally abandon you in order to spend time with him. which you don't resent her for obviously - she never really gets to see him since he's still away at college, but without sammy as your tree picking partner, you're left with vince.

obviously this is your worst nightmare.

vince follows a few steps behind you with his hands shoved in his front jean pockets. he doesn't seem to even be looking at the trees, which only irritates you further - because why was he so adamant about arguing with you about the height of a tree if he wasn’t even going to properly look for one.

you weave through another row of trees, slowing in your steps to look over each one - inspecting every pine and bristle. because it's so close to christmas the supply at the farm is slowly dwindling, and although all rows have trees, it's looking a little sparse - the amount and the trees themselves.

you let your previously crossed arms fall, and you complete stop your steady pace. the tree in front of you looks pretty good considering the options available, with almost perfectly green bristles and that full look tracy loved so much. you eye back at vince, a questioning raise to your eyebrows. "here's a good one."

his brows pull together tightly, forming a v shape above the bridge of his noise. vince takes a step closer to the tree you’re stopped at, and after a long silent moment he just shrugs.

"what's wrong with this tree?" you huff pointedly.

"it's shit."

"it's not shit - you don't like it because I picked it and you know it's the best one we've seen so far and there's a high chance it's the best one period."

your attitude is on full display, with your hand resting on your hip as the bone juts out towards the left. your face is pulled in a mixture of confusion and frustration, blinking quickly up at vince like you're trying to literally blink him away.

it has vince biting back a satisfied smirk - he's always so amused at how easily he can rile you up, even when you try so hard to hide it. "I bet I can find a better one."

"it's four days before christmas vincent, you're not going to find a better one." you grab ahold of the rope holding the tree and follow the natural line around to the backboard behind the trees. it's hooked into some weird latch, and you quickly try and maneuver the metal clasp off the loop - desperate to get the tree and get out of there.

"you have to push before you pull." vince is much closer than before, and he reaches towards the clasp as well. his words are warm against your frost bitten face, and the press of his body against your side is an oddly chilling feeling - underneath your clothes, your skin prickles with goosebumps.

"yeah that's what i'm trying to do - but now your hands are in my way."

he huffs, "you're only pulling - I can feel it, y/n."

"I can only pull because you're not letting me push." you argue. you both don't let up, and there's a confused mix of hands trying to pick over and around one another in a competitive match to unlatch the rope from the hook on the wooden plaque.

it’s only a few more moments of battling one another before vince's uses his strength advantage to forcefully move you out of the way and pushes your body off to the side with just his hip. your hands release the hook reluctantly, which gives vince free will to fiddle with it solely.

in a surge of anger, from not only his ridiculous strength but also your lack of, you kneel down and grab a pile of fluffy snow from the base of the cut tree stumps. you quickly and messily pack it into a ball shape and before you can think otherwise, you chuck it right at vince.

it hits him square in the chest, and the snow explodes from the impact, coming up his coat and splashing against his jawline - some of the snow even slipping past the neck hole of his sweatshirt and soaking his shirt.

slowly, he looks in your direction - his face pulled in such a way that you can't tell if he's going to scream or say nothing at all. vince is met with only the sight of your wide, shocked eyes - mitten covered hands covering your grinning mouth.

"I don't know why I did that." your words are quick and muffled through the pink gloves.

vince eyes squint accusingly as he fully turns to face you. he lets go of the hold on the lock that was still very much clasped in - but he is too shocked to even begin brushing snow off himself. "are you laughing?"

you are giggling - just a tiny bit and clearly your hands aren't doing a good job at hiding it. "no."

"I obviously have to get you back for that." vince grabs his own scoop of snow in his bare hands - because he claims he's too cool for gloves - and slowly begins packing it together.

"what? no." your hands drop from your face quickly, just as much your growing smirk. "I was just in the heat of the moment and I couldn’t help myself."

he shrugs nonchalantly, and the snow ball is getting tossed between his two bare hands mockingly - teasing you. "okay? and I'm also in the heat of the moment and I don't think I can stop myself."

"vince I swear to god if you decide today is the day you choose peace and put that snow back on the ground i'll forever be in your debt - why are you looking at me like that?"

the snow ball is still, lightly clutched in just one hand as vince looks at you. he's got an unreadable expression on his face, and it's one you've never seen before - he looks approachable and soft and so unlike the vince you've known since your freshman year.

you swallow gently - nervously - eyeing him curiously as you try to read his next move and understand his next actions before they happen. “you haven't called me vince since you were 14."

you're confused and vince can see it written all over your face. the downwards pull at your lips and the way your brows crease as you try and wrack your brain for an explanation. vince continues, his words firm but not rough. "you always call me vincent...It just made me think of the real you."

you're taken back from his words. the real you - what could vince mean by that insinuation. sure you've changed since high school, especially since vince broke your heart outside his bedroom that friday night freshmen year - but you're still you...you hope so anyways.

your mouth opens but no sounds come out - you're too busy reeling in your own head that you can't yet speak anything that would remotely make sense.

"there you are!" tracy's joyful voice interrupts as she and john make their way down the isle of trees you’re both in. "we've had no luck, unfortunately."

they come to a stop beside you, oblivious to the way you've gone completely internally crazy.

"any luck for you two? sammy and logan are at the hot chocolate stand waiting on us." john states, looking between you both.

"yeah," vince clears his throat and turns back towards the tree that you two had been attempting to unlatch. this time he's able to release the christmas tree from its rope in one try. "y/n found this one."

tracy immediately starts fussing excitedly, praising your eye. she goes on about how it will look wonderful by the fireplace, and how it's branches are so full and will compliment her home made ornaments perfectly - but you don't even feel like rubbing in the fact that you were right. you don't send vince any vindictive look, or some snarky smirk that says 'I told you so.' you can only focus on what vince's statement means.

thankfully sammy is a good distraction, and when you all meet up for the first time since arriving - vince lugging the tree behind him - and all share some hot chocolate and cider, you momentarily forget about it.

after another hour or so exploring the farm, you all decide to head back home - with a surprisingly perfect christmas tree and stomachs full and warm of hot chocolate.

sammy ends up passing out on your left quickly into the drive, her head resting against the cool glass car window with gentle snores passing through her lips. she must've been feeling tired, because she faught you for your previous seat - now you're stuck in the middle.

vince's arm is pressed into yours, and with every turn or bump in the road you can feel the way his muscles contract and move - even through the material of your puffy jacket.

you keep discreetly glancing over at him. you wish that you could read his mind or pull the thoughts right out of his head and understand them - but you can't, so you stealing glances will have to do for an attempt to understand him.

with tracy and john talking with one another in the front, voices blending with the holiday music they've turned up to block out sammy's snoring, you take an opportunity to get vince's attention.

"what did you mean by the real me?" your words aren't very loud as you don't want to draw the attention of vince's parents or wake sammy - which would ruin the chance of getting an understanding of vince's earlier words.

vince’s eyes flicker over to you, reluctantly pulling his attention away from where he was watching the road ahead through the gap between the passenger seat and car wall. his eyes dance over your wind kissed face and curious eyes, analyzing you. "it meant nothing."

you blink. "nothing? i'm going crazy here thinking that i've totally morphed into this super awful human and -"

"y/n." vince interrupts you roughly, his normal bored face making an appearance. "stop." his voice is almost pleading, like if you keep talking about it he'll become overcome with pain - vince's eyes flutter closed, and his head gently falls back against the head rest.

you don't say anything else because you're too hurt to further the conversation. you purse your lips, nodding in a bitter understanding before turning your face away from vince. you focus on the winter scenery outside sammy's window, doing your best to not feel further upset by vince's words - but you can't help the nagging feelings that swirl around your stomach, and the avalanche of emotions weighing in your head.

you don't even feel angry - just confused and left wondering what you did to make vince dislike you so much.

when did he become a stranger?

december 23rd

the santa day market in your town was always one of your favourite things about the christmas season. there was something about how all the shops decorated for the holiday, the streets put up garlands and lights, and how everyone came together to celebrate the most festive time of year never failed to put you in the christmas mood.

this year was no different, and with vince's mom being the one to always make sure you and your family all went together, here you all were - obviously with the lack of your parents, but that goes without saying.

the smell of snow and apple cider flows through the busy sidewalks, further adding to the festivities all around you. there's only an hour and a bit before the annual santa clause parade kicks off, and sammy had suggested that you all take the time to find secret santa gifts - if you haven't already.

you're happy for her suggestion, because with your and vince's tiff yesterday, buying a secret santa gift has slipped your mind.

the rest of the car ride home from the christmas tree farm was very quiet - well, you and vince were quiet - sammy's snoring and the music continued as loud as ever. the vibe between you and the oldest dunn sibling had changed, but not in the way you were now realizing you wanted it to change.

for the rest of the night, if vince did talk to you it wasn't with anger and irritation like you'd grown used to. instead he sounded more disappointed? maybe guilty? but then again, maybe your brain is trying to turn vince softer than he is, and he's not feeling any sort of remorse or guilt about how the conversation in the car went between you and it’s all in your head.

you push open the glass door of one of the boutiques lining the main street, the holly decorated wreath swinging against the window as you do so. inside is surprisingly busy considering all the attention seems to mostly be outside - but thankfully it's a relatively big store - full of cute clothing, accessories and anything in between - meaning you can browse freely without feeling overwhelmed.

it doesn't take long to start spotting things sammy would like, and you begin to make a mini collection of things in your arms. shopping for your best friends has always been so easy. sammy loves knitted sweaters, and you know she'd always wear one. she's also into perfumes and decorative tote bags. graphic baby tees, comfy pyjamas and lip gloss were also apart of sammy's never ending arsenal.

but with that being said, you can never pick exactly what you want a to give her. you always want it to be a perfect gift, and you have a hard time trying to pick one perfect thing - hence the heavy armful of various gift options.

something partnered catches your eye, and you find yourself double taking in its direction. it's beautiful throw blanket, and the soft material is decorated with vintage looking holiday homes, greenery and snowflakes- it's beautiful. with your free hand, you reach out and touch the front of it, gliding your hand across the baby soft blanket. you're immediately in love with it, and the urge to scrap the whole secret santa thing and spend your entire budget on the - no doubt - expensive throw is very strong.

but obviously that's not an option, and you'll have to just dream about the blanket longingly while your best friend enjoys her secret santa gift.

"your boots undone." you look away from the shelf loaded with various holiday blankets and in the direction of the voice.

it's vince, and you curse yourself for not registering the familiarity of his voice sooner. he's not holding any shopping bags, meaning he either previously bought his secret santa their gift, or he hasn't found anything yet.

you look down to your winter boots, which you can barley see over the monstrous pile of things still tucked against the crook of your elbow. vince is right - your left lace isn't tied up and is hanging dangerously, very close to causing you to trip.

"okay," you hum, eyes flickering back up towards him. "and what am I supposed to do about that right now?" it's a bold and snappy response from you considering the awkward and unknown vibes that have been circulating around you and vince the past 24 hours - but you can't help it, and falling into the original pattern between you is very easy.

vince still hasn't moved from a few feet away from where you had been looking at the blankets. his eyes dance between your face, the present options in your arms and the undone shoe lace.

suddenly he’s on the move and he walks towards you wordlessly. before you can register what he's doing, vince is tying your lace back up. he's down on one knee, which would usually give you the ick, but it seemingly doesn't - vince even double knots the lace, which is the cherry on top of your guilty ice cream.

once he returns to his full height and sends you a closed mouth smile, you further regret your snappy response about the undone shoelaces.

once again, vince's eyes wander down to the pile in your arms and his brows pull together in what looks like concern - whether that concern is for your arm strength or the amount of things in them...you'll never know.

"don't worry vince i'm not your secret santa."

his eyes change, a flicker of something you recognize but can't put your finger on - but it has your weird nervousness settling down. vince snickers softly, almost like he was laughing to himself. "thank god for that - I don't think those clothes would fit me."

your chest flutters with something like relief, and although you know you shouldn't so easily forget about vince's cold shoulder yesterday, it's hard when his gentle laughter warms your belly unexpectedly. so for now you decide to forget, and a small smile pulls at your lips as you eye vince teasingly. "mhmm I don't know, I think you could rock these pink frills."

his brows raise slightly, pleasantly surprised at your playful expression. "just because I would, doesn't mean I should." vince picks up a bedazzled set of salt and pepper shakers nearby and inspects them closely. you think they're gaudy and clearly vince thinks the same - he glances at you and pulls a face, putting down the set of sparkly condiment holders.

"oh, you think you're hot stuff?" you tease him further, the comment about the pink frilly sweater still prevalent on your mind.

vince snickers one more, gently prodding the side of his cheek with his tongue to stop his smile from growing any further. he doesn't answer your question but the look on his face is enough of an answer. "you're not getting sammy all of that are you?" his gaze shifts back towards the pile in your arms, and he even reaches out and tugs on one of the arms from a patterned top.

"wha!" you stutter a mixed sound of huh and what passing through your open mouth - your eyes blown wide as you eye him questionably. "how do you know I have sammy?”

vince smirks, "process of elimination."

you squint at him accusatorially, trying to decide if he actually has done some process of elimination in his head, or if vince is just trying to trick you into telling him who you’re secret santa for. "fine," you hum, admitting defeat. "no i'm not getting sammy all of this! I just....cant decide."

vince smiles victoriously - obviously he knew he was right. "you're so indecisive."

"no, i'm not." you sing song.

vince matches your pitch, mimicking you. "you are."

"you don't even know what you're talking about." you breathe gently, a small bubble of laughter following.

"okay, then go put some stuff back if you're so sure and not indecisive." vince eyes you challengingly, gesturing towards the bustling shop.

"fine," you chirp. "don't miss me too much."

"oh," he laughs, "I won't."

you walk back through the store, slowly putting the random things back into appropriate spots. you don't even remember picking up a zebra printed scarf, but there it was in your arms - and you can't help but pull a face as you hang it back around a mannequin.

"y/n y/l/n is that you?" evan's voice is practically engraved in your memory at this point, and you'd recognize it even over the cheery christmas music blaring through the stores speakers.

you turn towards the direction of his voice, and unfortunately your mind wasn't playing tricks on you - your ex boyfriend was in the shop, looking at you with a bright smile and snow dusted coat. to make everything 10 times worse than it already was, his new girlfriend was wrapped around his arm, just as happy looking as evan.

your face pales, and you slowly finish putting away the sparkly handbag on the shelf in front of you - previously stopping once each called your name. "yeah, it's me."

they walk right up to you, clearly unbothered by the whole situation. evan looks like he's greeting an old friend from highschool - one that he wasn't in a loving relationship with for years and broke up with only weeks ago. it stabs at your chest, even though you don't love him anymore. "wow, I wasn't expecting to run into you here." evan exhales, eyeing you with a curious gaze.

you wonder if he’s analyzing you - looking for damage he caused after your breakup. you’re happy that you washed your hair this morning and put on some proper makeup before coming out, and that you look - hopefully - somewhat presentable - you don’t want to boost your exes ego by letting him think he has any affect on you.

how evan wasn't expecting to see you in a town you live in and always have lived in is beyond your thought process - but evans never been the sharpest tool in the shed, so it makes sense. he continues, "are you here by yourself? or is your mom around here somewhere? I swear I was just telling jen about how much your mom used to love this store -" you zone out - oh so she has a name?

"hey I was wondering where you went." vince's words are a shock, and the way his large palm touches your lower back and slowly wraps around to the front of your torso even more so. "thought we agreed to meet back up outside the store - not inside."

you blink, looking back at vince. "what?" ever so slightly his eyes widen as if he's trying to tell you to go with it.

"dunner? holy shit" evan's voice brings you back to reality. "what are you doing home?"

vince looks away from you, and an easy going smile takes over his face. "my schedule worked out and was able to come home for christmas. thank god because I was missing y/n/n too much."

"you were?" you gawk.

vince’s teeth are clenched tightly, but his smile never waivers as he looks down at you once again. "of course babe." his fingers pinch your belly gently, another reminder to play along.

babe. oh.

"babe?" evan questions. his blue eyes flicker between you and his old friend, and you can practically see as the puzzle pieces in front of him piece together - the hand around your waist, the pet name, the look in your eyes he's never seen before. "you guys are together?"

you nod once and you sort of resemble a robot with the almost reluctant movement- vince has to take a deep, calming breath and resist the urge to die at the cause of your awful acting. "yeah, we are together."

your conformation has evan smiling - which you don't think would happen. you expected a grimace or even some sort of negative outburst at his ex and his old friend dating - but no. "I always thought you two secretly liked each other - all that hating each other crap wasn't believable."

vince goes stiff behind you, and even though he recovers quickly, you still feel it. you can't believe this is happening. you think the world might swallow you up and save you from the awkwardness that is this conversation.

completely oblivious, evan continues. " isn't it crazy how we both found our true matches after each other." the look evan sends jen has you feeling even more embarrassed and miserable, and you can't decide if your going to laugh, cry, or throw up - or all three.

"we should probably go," jen pats evan's peck affectionately. "your parents are already at the parade spot waiting for us."

"it was nice seeing you guys - you look great together." evan smiles at you both, wrapping an arm around his girlfriends shoulders as they steer through the crowd inside the shop, and make their way towards the exit.

evans words continue to ring through your head as you check out at the cash register. you ended up choosing the very first thing you picked up for sammy, because your first option is always the one you go back to.

you leave the store quickly after getting the gift receipt, and vince is close on your heels as you two make your way down the busy sidewalk.

"are you okay?" vince almost sounds cautious with his tone, and you can feel his eyes flicking across your side profile - trying to find the answer to his question before you tell him.

you glance up at him quickly. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were worried about me." your attempt at humor isn't working, and vince doesn't crack even a half smile at your teasing. your face falls, and you sigh gently, "i'll be fine."

he nods thoughtfully, but doesn't seem all that convinced by your words. it's silent for a few moments between you, walking together down the sidewalk back in the direction of where tracy told everyone to meet back up at - right under the clock tower for the parade.

"it’s okay if you're feeling hurt after seeing evan and his new girlfriend. just because you don't love him anymore, doesn't mean it's nice to see that." after a few beats, vince sighs. "do you remember amanda?" he asks you curiously.

your nose scrunches unpleasantly - how could your forget amanda? amanda was vince's awfully short-term girlfriend in the summer going into your sophomore year of highschool - his first year of college. she was very picky, rude, and always made sure to remind everyone that she felt that she was superior to them. you make a noise between a gag and a scoff. "I hated her."

vince laughs once, shoving his hands in his pockets as continue to walk through the busy sidewalks. "I could tell. honestly, she didn't like you either."

"I knew it." you cheer vindictively, because you knew you weren't crazy for thinking that - even though sammy disagreed. "she used to give me these dirty looks - specific ones like she was trying to burn me alive using just her eyes." your gaze flickers back to vince, and your brows pull curiously. "why did you break up? besides the obvious….witchy reasons."

he smiles softly and shrugs. "amanda was never shy about expressing her feelings about anything or anyone, which I never faulted her for even If i disagreed. but when she started talking badly about you, I broke it off."

"oh."

vince continues. "I never let anybody talk about you negatively, y/n. ever. and amanda wasn't an exception to that." he swallows gently, eyes dancing over your face. his expression is soft again, and familiar. it’s a look that makes you forget that the vince in front of you right now is the same one who broke your heart in high school - the same vince you thought you hated.

you now notice that you've both stopped walking and are standing still in the middle of the sidewalk. the sky is practically enveloped into darkness now, only lit up by the buildings light glow and christmas lights decorating the street.

you feel so seen in this moment - you feel completely normal. vince is looking at you in a way you've never seen before, and you can't help but wonder if he's always been looking at you like this but you've been too blinded by words to notice.

vince clears his throat, and a breathy chuckle passes his lips. "I mean after all, i'm the only one who gets to be a dick to you…right?”

his words feel like a slap in the face. is vince admitting that he only defended you to amanda because he was upset somebody else was being mean to you besides himself? - rather than the sole purpose of defending you because he cares about you? you don't let yourself outwardly show how vince's words affected you, and you force a gentle smile. "right."

you don't want to get upset and ruin the relationship dynamic between you and the vince standing infront of you - because something has undoubtedly changed. you're not sure what it is yet, but you like this version of you and vince better than any version from the past 10 years.

you also don't know what vince means with his last comment, and you're not sure if you want to know. so you choose to ignore it - just like you ignored the situation between you yesterday and how you've ignored the unspoken and underlying issue of your and vince's relationship for years.

december 24th

"stop moving or the walls are going to fall."

"the walls are going to fall because you're not using enough icing - it's going to fall weather i'm holding it together or not." vince expresses. to prove his point, he loosens his push on the gingerbread house wall, and it immediately wobbles and begins to collapse inwards.

vince brings his thumb up towrds his mouth and sucks some of the store bought vanilla icing off the digit. his eyes don't leave you as he does so- trying to fluster you with his actions. you narrow your eyes pointedly, which makes a smirk appear on vince's flushed face. he laughs at your attempt at looking annoyed all while trying to keep the sad gingerbread house from completely collapsing.

vince's mom had magically pulled out two separate gingerbread kits in the late afternoon after she put the honey ham in the oven. sammy was up on her feet immediately at the sight, her competitive nature coming to a tilt - which meant that she needed the gingerbread building to be a competition, and claimed her boyfriend as her building partner.

logan doesn't protest the partnership, which leaves you and vince no choice - if this was the beginning of your stay with the dunn family, having vince be your partner would've sent you to the grave, but now with some of the negative air clearing, you don't hate the idea, but quickly into the start of your timed - yes sammy insisted the building to be timed - gingerbread house competition, vince is proving to be rather difficult to work with.

vince seems more interested in teasing you and trying to push your buttons in a almost flirtatious way, and if he's not talking, he's completely trying to change any of your previous work and alter the look of the gingerbread house - claiming 'it looks too similar to theirs, c'mon y/n/n we gotta step it up.'

"just get the gumdrops out." you dismiss him, looking away from his intense gaze and back towards the gingerbread. thankfully you've managed to get the house back into its original stature, and the house is looking less sad and lopsided than before - although some of the icing has glooped and dropped off the seams and made a sticky mess on the candy rock path.

vince snickers at your demand, finishing up with the icing residue on his thumb - because he knew if he passed you a sticky, icing covered gumdrop package you'd loose your mind. "where do you want them coach?" vince's words are softly spoken against your ear as and attempt to try and keep your discussion from being overheard by his sister and logan across the table.

you hold back the pleasant shutter that wants to take over your body, and keeping your eyes on the gingerbread house is the best way to stay calm and collected - if you look at vince right now you may crumble. what is wrong with you right now? "I think under the windows? a boarder around the house will bring it all together."

you gesture to the part of the house where the brown cookie meets the flimsy plastic base, which is only covered in icing and is severely lacking decor.

vince hums. "really? I feel like the roof is the only thing that looks incomplete. I think the gumdrops will look better there." he runs one of his fingers on the ridge where the two pieces of cookie meet, mimicking the point of a roof.

"what?" you screech slightly, gaze flickering between the cookie creation and vince. "I think the roof looks cute how it is - with the peppermint swirls"

"yes but look at logan and sammy's -" you do as he says and let yourself finally look at your friends gingerbread house. you can tell logan has had absolutely no say in the design of the house, and it's clearly the cause of a sammy dictation. vince continues, "all they've got on the roof is peppermint swirls. adding the gumdrops to our house will make it stand out. you want to win right?"

you look back at vince and nod definitively. "yes, I want to win."

he smiles. "atta girl, wanna put them on?"

you flush a deep red at his words. "no, you do it. If I do it you'll end up moving them anyways."

your teasing doesn't go unnoticed by vince, and he clicks his tongue in a playful manner, "yeah because you probably wouldn't of done it right."

the wine you've been sipping all afternoon and into the evening is definitely tinkering with your emotions - vince the same. it would explain how the evening between you is flowing so smoothly, and any teasing dig is met with laughter instead of anger. you giggle quietly, "you're so annoying."

vince ducks his head to keep your eye contact once you begin to smile downwards into your chest. his smirk doesn't dissolve, and if anything, it changes into a more sultry one. "I know you love it y/n/n, you can't deny it." he licks his bottom lip, wetting the pink skin so it glistens. vince chuckles, "now move your hand...unless you want to be covered in gum drops."

he then proceeds to add a single file line of gumdrops on the roof, sticking the widest part of the gummy candy into the dewy icing that holds the pieces in place. in the most obnoxious and high pitched voice you can manage, you repeat vince's words back to him. you watch as vince smiles and a few laughs bubble up his chest at your teasing - he doesn't look away from the task at hand and continues decorating your gingerbread house.

you feel like you're in freshman year again, stealing secretive glances at your best friends older brother while he wasn't paying attention. vince looks almost the same as he did when you were younger, but his teenage features have chiseled out, leaving him with the most sculpted and attractive profile. god this wine is really changing you - your fluttering heart and butterfly filled stomach are really a recipe for disaster.

"okay kids one more minute left for your houses, then dad and I will come in and judge them." tracy tells you all from around the corner, not quite yet coming fully into the kitchen to avoid spoiling the houses for herself. you hear sammy curse from her moms warning, and she starts frantically looking for the mini snowflakes to icing glue onto the window sills of her and logan's gingerbread house.

vince looks back towards you, and once he catches your gaze already on him, his smirk slinks back upwards. "any finishing touches?"

you're not even embarrassed at being caught, and you don't mind how smug vince looks at the sight of your clear attraction. you shake your head, "no...it's perfect."

vince can't help his eyes from flickering down to your lips, lingering on your wine painted flesh for a few moments before dragging his eyes back up your face. his brow quirks curiously, but the smile he's wearing never wavers. "I agree."

tracy and john come in after you've all cleaned up the area and presented your respective gingerbread houses in a viewing manner - displaying them proudly on the kitchen island. it doesn't take long for them to decide their winner, and when the dunn couple gestures to your amd vince's candy land themed house, you cheer. vince squeezes around your waist, pulling you into his side, exclaiming that he knew you could beat sammy.

that has her scoffing, "you two are so annoying." she's not being serious - the tiny smile on her face giving it away. logan kisses her temple reassuringly, promising that her gingerbread house is his favourite.

"don't be a sore loser." vince laughs, eyeing his sister victoriously.

"now, vince you're not one to talk." tracy corrects him, and a small smile pops on her face. she tries to hide it behind her hand as she continues. "you used to get so upset when you were little if we picked sammy's house. you'd cry like a baby and beg for us-"

"alright mom." vince stops her with laughter.

"oh my god, so you've always been a big baby?” you look up at him teasingly, a challenging lift to your eyebrows.

"oh, always." you laugh at that, allowing yourself to further lean into vince's side. he smells like grape wine and cinnamon, completed with a hint of store bought icing - an interesting combination by somehow its smells exactly like him.

it's an odd place to be - next to vince and so willingly giving in to the urges you've been suppressing for years. allowing yourself to be wrapped up in his presence and the comfort of all things vince - his almost always flirtatious smirk, the spicy scent he's always bathed in and the way his gaze always seems to linger.

you don't hate vince dunn - you never have. even when he broke you heart in freshman year and left you to cry silently beside his sister in bed, you didn't hate him, you just hated how he made you feel. you had a hard time accepting that vince didn't like you back - whether it was because you were too young or because he simply didn't feel that way for you, you struggled with that fact, which lead to your own feelings converting into a more harsh and negative outlook towards vince.

you realize now, even after 4 or 5 hefty glasses of warm wine, that you were wrong in the way of dealing with your feelings - and by no means does that excuse the way vince has behaved, but you are willing to hear him out....that is if he wants to talk about it. perhaps when you're both a bit more sober tomorrow - your brain reminds you quickly.

after a few classic movies - the grinch being sammy's pick and christmas vacation being johns - tracy had mentioned that santa won't come unless you're all in bed. her sing song tone has everyone giggling in the dim family room, only illuminated by the twinkling christmas tree in the corner, the laughter coming easy with your stomachs full of honey ham and wine.

it's not long after that, and a few more minutes of meaningless conversation, you all slowly head to bed. there's a good 5 minutes that sammy makes you lay face down in her bed while she wraps her secret santa gift (the queen of last minute). anytime she curses and you can hear the wrapping paper tear, it has you giggling into the pillow - which then leads to sammy trying to scold you but her giggles vito any kind of rebuke.

you're still not ready for bed by the time sammy finishes gift wrapping - which ended up being way longer than 5 measly minutes. as soon as she allows you to get off her bed, you're instantly calling dibs on the bathroom and you quickly grab your snowflake patterned toiletry bag and slip out of the room.

the bathroom is steamy, and the mirror along with the damp floor mat indicates somebody is not long out of the shower - presumably vince since he's the only other one on the upstairs floor.

you wipe the condensation off the mirror with the palm of your hand, cleaning the glass so you are able to properly see yourself while you unwind for the night. you begin going through your skin-care routine, granted with the alcohol pumping through your bloodstream, it isn't as skillful or in depth as it normally would be - when you wipe your face with the towel, there's black marks of mascara left behind.

you dig for your toothbrush in the clutter of your toiletry bag, excited for the last step in your night routine before you're able to get back in bed. you locate it and let out a triumphant breath - taking the tube of toothpaste out of the holder as you do so.

a knock on the open bathroom door stops you, and through the mirror you look up and see vince. you were correct in assuming it was him in the shower as he stands there now with damp hair, and fresh cologne scented skin - you're pretty sure there's still a few drops of water sliding down his pecks, because of course he's only got pyjamas bottoms on right now, leaving his torso completely bare.

"I forgot to brush my teeth." he says warmly. vince holds your eye contact through the mirror, watching the way you blink at him all flirtatiously - god this wine is really doing a number on your suppressed feelings.

you glance over your shoulder. "I don't mind company."

vince walks further into the dewy bathroom, rounding to the other side of you. he quirks a brow in your direction. "even mine?"

you watch him pick up his own toothbrush, gliding a dollop of toothpaste over the blue bristles. you put your own minty toothbrush in your mouth, holding it in your cheek momentarily. "even yours."

vince's smirk can't even be hidden by his toothbrush, which he shoves in his mouth - brushing his perfect teeth around his undeniable amused grin. his firm brushing movements, combined with his lack of shirt give you the perfect view to watch his muscles as they shift and flex beneath his soft skin, creating a much unexpected sensation to run through you.

vince catches your stare, the movements of his toothbrush coming to a slow pause as he looks back at you. you don't feel the need to shy away from his sensual gaze like you normally would find yourself doing, but instead you hold the eye contact - your own smile forming around the handle of the toothbrush.

you lean forward to spit into the sink, rinsing your mouth with some running water from the tap before rising back to your full height.

vince follows suit, spitting his excess foamy toothpaste into the sink, letting the water wash away any remnants down the drain. you put your toothbrush back into its respective holder and shove it back in your toiletry bag. you tuck your bag under your arm just as vince stands back up, wiping his mouth of any leftover water.

there's a moment then where you're just looking at one another through the foggy bathroom - your eyes locked together say enough than your mouths could ever. regret, apologies, uncertainty, teasing, flirting, the unkown...the gaze you're locked in says it all.

your belly swoops, and this time you know it's because of vince - it's always been because of vince. "goodnight vincent." the use of his full name is only used as a playful and amorous parting, and you blink towards him slowly and innocently. you turn away from him just as slow as your fluttering eyes.

his bottom lip tucks between his teeth as he watches you - vince knows that you know exactly what you're doing and it has him acting before his brain can even comprehend itself.

he grabs your wrist and spins you back around before you even step foot outside the bathroom. your bag falls to the floor from the sudden movement, and you know you didn't zip it properly, so you're not looking forward to dealing with that mess - but the way vince grabs your face roughly and kisses you has you forgetting all about it.

the kiss is immediately rough and fast - a mixture of longing and desire stemming from many years of doubt and fear, crumpled into one explosive kiss. you're both instantly grabbing at one another, desperate to feel one another to a greater extent. vince's hands are all over your body, like he can't decide where he wants to touch you most. he's running his fingers through your hair, gently tugging the roots at the base of your neck in a way that has you groaning into his mouth. his hands glide over your body, paying attention to every curve and dip as he holds and grabs you.

you’re no better with your hands frantically running over his toned exposed skin. your nails gently rake over his abs, and you can feel the affect the feeling has on vince as goosebumps form right under your fingertips. you're holding the budge of his biceps, keeping him close to you as you both continue the electric kiss. the room suddenly seams as steamy as ever, the thick and hot air surprising you, further contributing to the hurried movements and messy tangle of lips.

vince spins you around once again, so your back is towards the vanity mirror. your lower back bumps the edge of the ceramic countertop, and not even the bruising sting can register in your mind over the way vince is kissing and touching all over your skin. smoothly as ever, vince's lips pull away from yours, giving you the time and space to collect your laboured breath. his kisses move down from the corner of your mouth and across your warm jawline. you gasp and wither against him, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation of his sloppy kisses move towards your neck.

vince reaches the junction of your neck and shoulder, and he wastes no time in suckling the soft and flushed skin. without pulling away from you, he uses his foot to shut the bathroom door and the gentle thud echos throughout the hallway.

"is this okay?" he speaks against your skin, his mouth detaching from the blossoming hickey he'd been working on. vince fully pulls away from you, much to your dismay, and meets your gaze - a questioning haze in his eyes, reflecting his question.

you sigh, "yes. more than okay."

this time, you're the one to reach for him, and you pull his head down so you're able to meet for another heavy kiss. vince's tongue swipes against your bottom lip quickly, asking for entrance to further explore to kiss once again. you let him, again, letting your tongues glide and slip around one another in the midst of your make out.

vince uses his leg to gently prod your thighs apart, which you had previously been desperately clenching together in search of the tiniest bit of friction. as soon as vince's chiseled, defined leg muscle settles between your legs, providing a deliciously sharp and satisfying touch to your fluttering core, you're moaning.

instinctively, your hips begin to move against him, searching for that release. one of vince's hands leave its spot from where it was previously holding around your neck, and slinks down your body until he's landing on your ass. with a guiding hand, he firmly grabs ahold of one asscheek and begins to pull and push you over his thigh - helping your grind against him.

you pull away from his mouth as you become too built up with the empending release that is on the horizon. you breath heavily, and your eyes are screwed shut as vince continues to drag your clothed core against his covered thigh. you're sure your thin candy cane printed pyjama shorts are drenched in your own arousal, leaking onto the plaid material of vince's pants - but you don't even care or feel embarrassed...if anything it's turning you on further, and from the hard bulge pressing against your leg, it seems to be doing the same for vince.

vince's forehead falls against yours, bringing you back to the reality of the situation. through your lashes, you look up at him, only to find he's already watching you - watching every single twitch of a reaction on your flushed face. "I'm close." your sighed words are quickly morphed into a moan as vince's grip tightens on your ass.

"fuck. wanna come like this?" he questions quickly, continuing to move your hips forward and backwards against him.

you mewl slightly, and if you don't stop soon you will end up further soaking his pyjamas bottoms as you cum. "I want you to be inside of me."

"yeah?" vince breathes out, his guiding movements coming to a slow stop at your words. you nod against him, and your hips continue to jut over him at just the mere thought of vince filling you up. "fuck okay, let's turn around yeah?"

you let him handle you easily, vince spinning your body until your belly is pushing against the counter top. with a firm hand he pushes on the middle of your spine until you’re naturally lying flat on the counter, and your legs spread automatically.

vince is immediately pulling down your shorts and you moan out at the feeling of the material sticking to your seeping core, no doubt dripping with your edging release. the bathroom is burning hot, and the mirror has gone completely opaque from the steam caused by your and vince's interlocking lips and steamy touches. it has everything feeling much more sensual and sexy - and the tension of your impending release is becoming almost painful.

you wiggle your hips around, pushing as far back as you can with the limited space in search of vince's hips. "be paintent." vince tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and then you feel the press of his torso against your back. he presses a kiss to your exposed shoulder from where your oversized shirt has slipped down. "I was admiring the view." to further accentuate his words, two of his fingers slide through your wet folds, moving to collect your arousal.

you bite your lip, sighing pleasantly at the feeling of pressure from vince's fingers prodding your entrance, moving up to flutter over your throbbing clit. "you can admire the view another time, vince - please fuck me."

vince's large palm comes down and smacks the round of your ass. you let out a breathy laugh, the sound almost resembling a squeal at the feeling. it has vince smirking as he soothes the sting by rubbing over your reddening ass.

your laughter quickly shifts into a deep mewl as vince's head prods your entrance, almost immediately slipping into your opening from the dripping arousal. you push your hips backwards and he fully slides into you, filling you completely. your ass brushes against vince's hipbones, taking the length of his dick completely.

"shit." he curses, twitching inside you. vince grabs ahold of your hips, and immediately starts to pull out of you. just before his head has a chance of leaving your tight entrance, vince pushes his length back into you fully, igniting another round of moans from you both.

"keep doing that." you are practically begging him as you try and look over your shoulder and attempt to catch the sight of his length plummeting in and out of your pussy. you bite your lip, trying to hold onto some of the moans you're desperately wanting to let out. "fuck i'm not going to last long - you feel too good."

vince moans, and his eyes flicker away from where your bodies are frantically moving and connecting together in favour of meeting your eyes. "you're so hot, fuck the way you look at me - i'm trying really hard to not destroy you right now."

"you think you're hot stuff?" you challenge him, unable to resist the temptation of being playful with vince.

vince bites into his lips at your comment, holding onto his sultry smirk. without stopping his thrusts into you, he lets go of his grip on your hips and reaches up to your biceps. vince pulls your body off the counter, back until your flush against his warm chest. one of his hands wraps around your torso, keeping you in place, while his other reaches past you to wipe the sticky condensation off the mirror - giving you a hazy view of your intertwined bodies.

the sight of his dick nestled so far into your pussy is instantly making you moan, and you clench around his length automatically. vince curses at the feeling, and his hand that he used to wipe the mirror with now comes up around your shoulders and neck, wrapping around you to further keep you pressed to him. vince continues his forceful and steady thrusts into your entrance, and with the new angle of your bodies, they feel even deeper and better than before. "holy shit, vince - yes, just like that."

"can feel you squeezing me," he huffs into your neck, pressing a quick kiss to your salty skin. your shirt has slipped further down your arm, and has left your boob exposed, bouncing roughly against you as vince pounds into your pussy from behind.

it looks like something straight out of a porno in the bathroom mirror, and even through the fog that is building back over the mirror, you can see the way you're dripping onto the floor as your orgasm approaches.

your hand reaches up and grips vince's forearm, grounding yourself from his eye-rolling thrusts up into you. "you gunna cum, pretty girl? fuck you're making a mess on the floor."

"yes, yes, yes." you chant breathless, and your eyes begin to flutter shut as the coil in your stomach begins to snap. your head lolls backwards, falling against vince shoulder and as he continues his feverish pace into you, the band snaps and your orgasm comes to a hilt. "i'm cumming." you whine, your nails digging into the skin of vince's arm as you ride the high of bliss.

behind you, vince begins to chase his own approaching release. his hips smack against your ass at a frantic speed and he continues to thrust into your slippery, sopping pussy. his movements soon become less organized and in sync as he comes close. vince tilts you back down towards the counter, laying you down flat once more as he approaches his high. with only a few more rough pumps into you, vince pulls out of your warmth and blows his load onto your red ass, spewing up to your lower back and creating a sticky, hot, white mess on you. "holy shit."

"holy shit." you repeat.

a few beats pass until vince is cleaning his load off your body, delicately wiping away all traces of his cum with some tissue before immediately flushing the evidence down the toilet.

the bathroom is ridiculous hot and sticky, and no doubt your hair has turned into a frizzy and disgruntled mess. the thought of having to put your soaked pyjamas shorts back on is detrimental, and you're so worn out from vince taking you to pound town that you debate falling asleep on the counter - naked from the waist down and everything.

vince laughs gently at your lack of energy, and he lightly taps your ass cheek to grab your attention. he's pulled his pants back up, and there's a visible wet mark from your earlier grinding - but he doesn't mind one bit. "you need help getting up?"

"yeah." your muffled whine has him laughing further, but he doesn't ignore you. gently, vince helps you off the counter and into a standing position. your knees wobble slightly and vince's smirk grows. you eye him pointedly. "don't smirk - you did this to me."

"you asked for it." he reminds you gently. you scowl slightly, and that has vince's soft laughter continuing. you can't be upset when he helps you pull your pyjamas back on, letting you use his shoulder for balance as he makes you lift one foot at a time into the leg holes of your christmas jammies. "need help getting into bed?"

you walk slightly and although you're a bit shaky, you can still move somewhat normally. you look at vince, "no, i'll be okay." you look towards the mess on the floor caused by your spilled toiletry bag - various things of makeup and skincare scattered in the tiles. you don't think you have the capacity to bend down and pick that up right now.

as if he can read your mind, vince bends down and begins to gather your things. "I can clean this - it's the least I could do." he looks up at you from one knee and sends you a quick wink. for a second you have the dirty thought of vince on his knees in front of you, except of cleaning up your things he's got you pushed against a wall, your legs spread open as he attacks your pussy with his mouth - licking and kissing against your heat until you’re screaming.

unfortunately you don't think your trembling body could handle that right now - it can barley handle standing. so instead of that, you smirk down at him. "goodnight."

"goodnight," his smile widens.

after one more sultry glance, you hobble back down the hall and towards sammy's room. you gently open the door, trying your best to keep quiet. like you hoped it would be, the room is completely dark and the sound of sammy's light snoring alerts you to her sleeping state.

you celebrate internally, happy that you don't have to answer a line of questions about why you've been in the bathroom for 30 minutes when you should've only been gone for 10 max.

you slip into bed gently, allowing your racing heart to have a chance to finally return to its normal beating pattern. thoughts of vince and the activities you've just participated in together - in the childhood bathroom no less - running through your mind. as much as you enjoyed and loved the sex you just experienced with vince, the question about your relationship still remains.

you're not sure if the sex will change anything between you, negatively or positively, but you know the conversation needs to happen. as you're falling into a slumber, dread as well as excitement is flowing through your veins - the unknown of it all very much present.

december 25th

"we have arrived - merry christmas!" sammy's voice is rather cheerful considering the early morning, but it is christmas so that's definitely a factor to her tone. you follow behind her down the stairs as you both descend into the family room, both in your christmas pyjamas and slightly hungover - you in different pyjamas than the ones you ruined last night.

"merry christmas!" tracy cheers from the couch, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. she looks not long awake, with her eyes still squinty and smile still sleepy. it's only 8 o'clock , but the tradition in the dunn household on christmas morning was always an 8 a.m. wake up call, and that wasn't going to change this year.

it seems like you and sammy are the last ones downstairs with the sight of tracy on the couch and john beside her, his own steaming mug sitting on a santa face coaster on the coffee table. just then, vince emerges from the kitchen with two mugs in his hands. you can smell hot chocolate, so you can only assume that's the contents of the coffee mugs.

"oh vince, are those for us?" sammy is instantly bounding over to her brother. she leans in and sniffs the drink, and a bright smile grows on her face as she does so. she takes her gnome design mug out of his hands, and skips over to the couch with her hot chocolate - merely missing spilling the entire drink on the rug.

vince passes you the other mug wordlessly. it is hot chocolate, completed with mini marshmallows and tiny pieces of crushed candy canes - a christmas morning classic. you look up at him gently, and you can't help the bright smile that grows on your lips at just the sight of vince. "hey, thanks."

vince nods and...that's it. he walks passed you and around the reclining chair that lines the entrance of the family room. your face falls with disappointment, and you can't help but feel embarrassed regarding the hopes following your actions last night. it's fine if vince still doesn't want you in any way thay you've been wanting him, but not even a 'you're welcome' or a 'hello’ stings.

you take a seat beside sammy, who once you're seated , immediately starts pitching to her parents on why she should be the first to open her secret santa present. your best friends voice helps you stay distracted in not looking over at vince adjacent from you - sitting silently in the recliner.

the lights from the tree twinkle is your peripheral vision, a constant in your eyes as you try and focus on the present and not dwell on the unknown with vince. as tracy moves across the tree in retrieval for her daughters gift, you're blinking back into reality once again, the light pattern changing is what brings you back. once her mom passes her the santa wrapping paper covered box, sammy is immediately tearing it apart. you smile automatically, always pleased with how excitable sammy gets when it comes to holidays and opening presents.

she pulls out the lilac fuzzy robe and matching slippers that you'd wrapped between layers of tissue paper in the box, and she's immediately gasping out. "I love it - somebody clearly knows me well."

"okay, we'll save your guess until the end." tracy reminds her daughter, but she's looking between all of you as she says it. "don't want to ruin the surprise for anybody else." tracy ends up going next after john suggested it, and she ends up opening a beautiful set of holiday mugs filled with different teas, coffees and treats - cookies, candy canes and chocolates all stuffed into the mugs. she of course loves it, and instantly tells vince that his next trip into the kitchen she wants to try one of her new teas.

you're the next one to open a present, and a rather large box is sitting on your lap. it's wrapped in reflective silver wrapping paper, and a large red bow sits on the top corner of the present. curious about the gift inside the stunning and well done wrapping, you tear it open.

"you're not doing it fast enough - rip the damn paper cindy lou." sammy grunts beside you, obviously impatient. you giggle just as you finally unwrap the box. saving sammy and yourself from the curiosity of the contents of inside, you lift the lid off the box. at the sight of the gift, your face falters slightly. under a layer of red tissue paper, starring back at you in the christmas blanket from the boutique downtown.

the soft christmas blanket decorated with vintage homes and snowflakes that you had fallen in love with only two days ago. you know there's only one person who could've known about the blanket and that's the only person in this living room who was in that store. your eyes flicker towards vince. he's still not smiling - he's not even looking at you.

tracy gasps, "oh wow that's beautiful!" you feel your face heat up with a mixture of disappointment, disbelief and sadness. you feel overwhelmed and confused by the contradictory messages of vince's actions, and you feel like the room is shrinking as you continue to look between vince and the blanket in your lap. without wanting to make too much of a scene, you put the gift on the coffee table. "sorry, I just need to step away for a moment."

"oh, okay - are you alright?" tracy questions gently, her warm eyes following you as you walk through the family room and towards the stairs.

"yeah, of course. please continue, i'll be back soon." you quickly make your way back up the carpeted steps, trying your best to hold in all your confused thoughts and emotions until you're in a private space - to top everything off, your feel ridiculous and the guilt is starting to sink in that you’ve ruined christmas.

you step into sammy's open bedroom and place a hand to your burning forehead - an attempt at doing something to calm down. you let your eyes flutter to a close, and take a few deep breaths. you feel so uncertain and overwhelmed with this weird unknown tension lingering between you and vince, and you're scared having sex with him last night did the complete opposite of what you hoped for. you're scared that vince doesn't view you as anything more than just a stranger - a body he's been moving around for years and disregarding because he's got no real connection or feelings for.

with the sex last night, you had the impression that it would act as that changing factor you've been searching for for years. this christmas seemed to be the very top of the tall mountain you and vince have been chasing each other up for years, pushing at one another to see who would be the first to break that climb - but now you think you may have fallen backwards instead of coming down the other side with vince beside you.

"are you okay?" vince steps into the room, the floorboard that sits directly under the doorframe creaks from his weight. when you were younger you hated that floorboard, it made for sammy and you to sneak out very hard, and most of the time it was the reason you'd just stay home instead of going out and partying with the senior boys team back in high school.

"no, i'm not okay - what are we doing?" your hands fall, and the pure exhaustion of dealing with your own scrambled thoughts is seemingly catching up to you. you feel like complete jello, even more so than after last night - your nerves about this whole ordeal at an all time high. "why do you hate me, vince? what did I do to make you hate me?"

vince is confused, naturally. he walks further into sammy's bedroom, closer to you. "you think I actually hate you?"

a mixture between a disbelieving laugh and a scoff forms in the back of your throat. "you're not giving me many reasons which tell me that you like me, are you? and no, fucking me against the bathroom counter really doesn't count as a good reason, at all." maybe your latter comment was uncalled for, sure, but your head is still reeling with a jumbled collection of thoughts and insecurities, that you really don't care.

vince runs a hand through his hair, his fingers almost frantic like he's not sure what to do with them. he licks his bottom lip gently, and he slowly looks around your face. you feel yourself wanting to blush - needing to blush - under his intense gaze, but you don't allow yourself to get flustered. vince sighs gently, and his brows dip in disappointment. "I don't hate you, y/n - I could never hate you." vince is disappointed in himself for treating you so poorly to the extent of which you thought he hated you - that was never his intention.

"then why did you act like you did?" your bottom lip trembles with emotion, and you hate that feeling. you don't want to seem weak or affected by his behaviour, even if it has made you upset - especially if he's about to tell you that you mean nothing to him...again.

vince sighs gently, his large eyes swimming with a hundred different emotions of his own. "because i'm a dick...and I was confused and maybe even a little scared." he pauses, swallowing his nerves as they begin to creep up his throat. you still look unsure, so vince continues. "I would act a certain way around you because I didn't know how else to act - or what to do. anytime I was mean or rude or acted this nasty way towards you it wasn't because I didn't like you, it was because I liked you too much. every petty comment, look or action was a bad attempt at me stopping myself from kissing you."

you inhale sharply, "what?"

"back in high school I was confused by my feelings for you. god, y/n I was constantly thinking about you and everything you did- it was consuming me. I thought nothing could happen because you were my younger sister's best friend...so when I kissed you at that party and I felt my feelings intensify, I pushed you away because I was scared." he takes a step closer, now in arms reach from you. you watch him curiously, intently listening to vince's words.

“so I would be mean and act like that kiss meant nothing - that you meant nothing because I let my pride get in the way. I thought I couldn't get hurt if I was the one who was hurting you - that turned out to be bullshit. I hate what i've done to you and how I've acted towards you. this christmas was the first time I let myself love you the way I always have and - can you please say something here because i'm totally freaking out.”

you blink once....and then twice. you're sure your mouth is opening and closing like a fishes would, but you're not even focused on that right now. the shock confession from vince is the only thing you hear - the only thing you've ever wanted to hear from him and he just said it. you blink a third time, "why did it take so long for you to say that?"

"you had a boyfriend - you were dating my old friend and you seemed happy. I didn’t want to jeopardize your relationship by being selfish and telling you how I feel...even if seeing you with evan killed me."

you nod in understanding - it makes sense, it's starting to all makes sense. although, you still can't be too sure. if vince is telling the truth, which you're pretty positive he is just based on how distraught and flustered he looks standing here now and telling you this - but there is one lingering comment that hasn't left your mind since the christmas tree farm, one that you need clarification on. "what did you mean by the real me?"

vince sighs - not an irritated or angry sigh, but rather like he knew the question was coming. "the real you means before you needed to put your guard up around me - before I turned into a complete idiot and you turned into a stranger. I meant it in the most sincere and positive way, and the comment stemmed from my own guilt and actions...i'm so sorry, y/n. for everything."

"evan was right," you start quietly, your voice still timid. "all that hating each other stuff wasn't believable. vince i've loved you since you moved here and i've never stopped."

he exhales in visible relief at your confession and for the first time this christmas morning, vince touches you, gently taking ahold of your warm cheeks between his palms as he cradles you in his hands. his thumbs stroke your cheeks soothingly, a much needed comfort you've been needing from him. "seriously?"

you nod against him. "seriously...and i'm sorry too."

"you don't need to apologize to me." vince is interrupts you softly, the beginning stages of his usual smirk tugging at his lips. "you've never done anything wrong or unwarranted that makes me deserve your apology, okay?"

"okay." you sigh.

vince smiles and slowly, his thumb moves down your face until he's gliding over your bottom lip. it's swollen from you constantly biting it, as well it's bruised from the pressure of his kiss last night. he gently pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb and the he leans down towards you open mouth and kisses you.

your lips pops back into place as his thumb releases it, and it immediately morphs around vince's mouth to complete the perfect kiss. this kiss is different from the one last night - even from the one many years ago during 7 minutes in heaven. there's no rushing or uncertainty, and the way your lips mold together and pass over one another is nothing but magic.

you sigh pleasantly against his mouth, pulling him impossibly closer by his hoodie. you can feel vince smile against your lips, the feeling of you so desperate and pleased as you slip your hands under the bulk of his sweatshirt and run along his bare skin, is the best feeling vince has ever felt - you are the best thing vince has ever known.

"are you guys coming downstairs or what?" johns voice is teasing as he calls up the stairs, and you can practically hear the knowing smirk just through his tone.

"yeah, stop making out and lets open these damn gifts." sammy sounds farther away than her dad, like she's still sitting on the couch as she calls for you and her brother.

you and vince pull away from one another, slightly breathless but grinning. "she's your sister." you brush past him, gently poking him in the side as you pass by.

immediately, vince grabs a bowl of your wrist and pulls you back towards him. it has you squealing slightly, letting yourself be pulled back into his embrace effortlessly. "she's your best friend" vince brushes the tip of his nose along yours, giving you a soft eskimo kiss.

your face scrunches at the tickly sensation. "yeah well, your sister and my best friend is going to kill both of us if we don't go back downstairs."

vince groans and reluctantly releases you from his tight grip. after all, if sammy is irritated with you both for holding up the present opening, could you imagine how mad she'd be if vince fucked you on her bed. you giggle slightly at the thought, walking out of sammy's bedroom and back down the hallway.

just before you can make the descend back downstairs, vince pushes up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he whispers in your ear. "I love you." to further his point, he kisses your cheek, sending butterflies loose through your entire body.

you will always love vince dunn.

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[heyhihellosworld]

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

Carlos Sainz x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Smut, feeling guilty about sexual thoughts, age gap, I think that's it?

Notes: Heyyy, Carlos??? Hope I read this request right! Probably changed it a bit. This is more from Carlos perspective than anything else

Request Don't know if you are taking any requests or not, but how's best friend brother's with Carlos Sainz when suddenly having ons with the reader and Carlos been wondering how having her in his bed

Pt 2 here

Carlos breathed in the familiar hot air as he stepped out of his car and onto the gravel of his family home. He had finally touched down on home ground and planned to spend the majority of his summer break here.

He smiled to himself as he watched the big house and the green grass. He loved this house, he loved their summers and he was excited to spend some down time with his family.

Ana and y/n should be there already, Blanca maybe but she could also arrive later. His parents weren't home, he knew that already but they would come in an hour or so.

Someone was home at least judging by the open porch door and small talk coming from the other side of the deck.

Carlos walked over the grass, trying to see who was there but he opted to take in his bags first. He had just stepped into the big hallway when he saw a figure from the big window. Ana was there and.. who was that? All he could see was a beautiful woman, hair moving in the wind and a beautiful figure on the deck. Carlos swallowed before moving away, it was rude to stare.

Who was that? Was that.. no it couldn't be Y/n, could it? But who else would be here to stay for the summer. It was always Y/n.

Carlos' mind ran on high speed as he tried to process who else it could be because this was certainly not the Y/n he remembered. No, last summer you had been this, very cute sure, but nerdy little girl who had barely graduated school and was now working at the downtown café whilst studying in university.

You had always been sweet and cute but he had never ever seen you as attractive. No this, this was surely someone else. Maybe one of Blankas work-friends. It could not be you.

Carlos forced the thoughts away as he marveled into the house, his house. It was hot, summer and he was settling for some downtime before the next part of the season began, that was the focus he reminded himself of.

He opted to start on food, eyes flickering back to the garden to try and get a look at whoever it was out there but they had disappeared from the kitchen view. Maybe that was for the better actually.

"Carlos!"Carlos flinched at the sound of his name, too deep in thoughts to realize someone had entered the open kitchen from the patio-doors in the living room.

He turned around with a wide smile as he recognized your voice opening his arms to hug you which you welcomed with a giggle.

His face fell however when he looked at you after you had stepped away. What the fuck had happened over winter?

The before young, teenage-looking girl had really grown into a young looking sure, but gorgeous woman. Face more mature-looking, smile as captivating as always and your body. Carlos had to force himself to look at your face as you were dressed down in only a small skirt and a bikini-top from having been sunbathing and swimming all morning.

Fuck it was you, how?

He quickly averted his eyes from your body to look at your face

"Hola Y/n" he smiled warmly as you hugged him in greeting. "We thought you came but we didn't see you" you smiled as you watched the counter top that was filled with ingredients. "Sorry, I planned on going out but..."

That Ana came out was perfect timing because Carlos had no idea how to finish that sentence. "Carlos! Why didn't you come out to greet us?!" she scolded as she wrapped her brother into a warm hug, Carlos stuttered, what he wanted to say, or the reason for it was not something he wanted to say at all so instead he shrugged. "I was about too" he said instead , ignoring the look Ana gave him and the food on the counter.

Ana dropped it quickly, the excitement of seeing her brother taking over the weird behavior and she soon proceeded to ask him a million questions but it was all like usual with the Sainz siblings.

You were happy, content in stretching out on the sofa and listening to their chat during the evening and when the night came you gladly welcomed the soft bed in the Sainz's guest room.

-

Carlos wanted to hit the person of his family that had suggested a boat day. He loved being on the boat and he loved being with his family and the boat was a tradition in your summers. You used to take the boat out to a small little island only an hour away and spend the day swimming, laughing and grilling before going back home in the evening when the light had already gone away and the city lights illuminated in the water.

However the only thing he could concentrate on all day was you in your tiny little bikini that barely left anything to the imagination. If he was realistic it was a normal bikini, but it was still tiny and he could barely keep his eyes off of you.

When you had been exiting from the water with your hair drenched and dripping with a huge smile on your face he had stared so long that Blanca had hit him in the back of the head with a scolding look and Carlos had coughed, looking away feeling guilty.

It was a nice day, the sun grilling your skin and everyone was happy that summer had finally arrived. Carlos' parents grilled over the open fireplace as everyone settled down, chatting lowly and laughing.

He enjoyed it, laughing and joking with you and his sisters, chatting with his parents. Swimming in the hot sun. It was a great day but when the time came and you decked the boat and walked up to the villa Carlos felt like he would snap off the tension in his body.

-

He still couldn't really grasp it, couldn't grasp how attracted he suddenly was to you.

He groaned as he collapsed down on his bed, his head in an awkward position against the headboard. He let out an annoyed groan and flopped down in an ungraceful movement.

He felt annoyed, tight like a string as he tried to sit more comfortably. He was hard in his sweatpants and that annoyed him more than anything else. He felt ridiculous, like a teenage boy watching a pornmagazine for the first time. All this for only a little bikini, it was ridiculous but he couldn't help it, couldn't make it go away.

He closed his eyes, groaning when the only thing he saw in his head was just in that stupid little bikini. He couldn't help it when his hand crept down his body, his mind telling him it was wrong but the satisfaction he felt when he finally wrapped his hand around his cock pushed away all those thoughts until the only thing he could think about was dirty dreams.

At first the pictures were more okay, if there were something like this in picturing his sister's younger friend while jerking off.

It was you, in that bikini you had stropped around in all day, your smile and your elegant figure. Then it was your lips, then it morphed into your lips wrapped around his cock and from there on he was screwed.

He pictured how you would look as you sucked him off, he could picture the look in your eyes as you would’ve licked over his tip, he could almost hear the sounds you would make as he pushed your head that slight bit further.

He pictured laying you down on his crisp white sheets, pictured how he would pull your legs apart, could hear your moans in his head.

He could almost taste her on his tongue, see her face contorted in pleasure. His mind wandered further and further away from reality as his hand moved up and down his shaft. He would feel guilty, he would feel so guilty afterwards but right now, at this moment he only felt pleasure and his thoughts only added to his arousal.

It was wrong, he knew it, but he didn't feel it. It felt fucking amazing, the pictures, the imaginition he had made him harder than he'd been in a long time.

He pictured your face as he would fuck you, imagining how hot you would feel around him, how tight you would be. He pictured the sounds you would make as he made you orgasm, the picture stuck in his head as he finally released with a long groan, head falling back as the relief finally washed over him.

Only then did the realization hit and he felt disgusted over himself. The cum on his skin added to the sick feeling in his chest. It was not normal. It was disgusting. Jerking off to Ana's best friend who was many years younger than himself just because he'd find out she'd been growing curves. He felt a tight feeling in his stomach, like he would need to throw up. He hurried into the bathroom and jumped into the shower like he was on fire.

His skin was red where he had roughly scrubbed the cum of his skin and he felt slightly better when he dressed in clean clothes and shook the water off his hair. Maybe it was okay.

The guilt however came back full force once he saw you on the sofa with Blanca, gossiping and laughing. He had to look away to swallow the lump in his throat that had formed.

-

You were sprawled out in one of the outdoor chairs next to Blanca in the hot sun. You had just been taking a dip in the ocean and was now drying up on the big deck of the Sainz's house.

"Do you think Carlos has anything against me?" you asked Blanca randomly, noticing the way she jerked up in her chair to give you a wild look.

"Que?! Carlos loves you silly" she waved you off. Summer at Sainz, anything with the Sainz's had been always consisting in your life. You and Ana had met in kindergarten. She was two years older than you but somehow you had stuck together throughout school and then throughout adulthood. You had spent every summer since then here, in the amazing villa with her family. You had traveled with them, watched Carlos's races, you had been a part of them forever so maybe you understood her wild look but still. It had felt like something was bothering him these first couple of days. He had been acting slightly... stiff around you.

"I know... I don't know why but it's just.. he has been so awkward with me, barely spoken to me alone" you shrugged and Blanca hummed. "I think Carlos is having a bit of a crisis" Blanca grinned as she leant back in the soft chair

This time you sat up to give her a look. "What do you mean? Is something wrong with his racing?"

Blanca laughed and shook her head with a huge grin on her face. "No, not about racing" she calmed

"I think little Carlos is having a crisis about how gorgeous you have become" she smiled before adding "You have always been gorgeous, but over the winter..." she made a face expression as if to express the change and you giggled, it was true. You had matured in your body a lot over the winter, felt more comfortable, more secure.

"I don't think that's it though" you hummed, waving it off. Carlos was a formula one driver, he could basically chat up and model he wanted, and have the most gorgeous girls. He had many options, he would never choose you, his sister's friend.

"I think it is, I've catched him staring a bit too long and often. And every time I catch him with a slap on his head he looks extremely guilty"

You giggled at that, leaning back into the seat "I'm pretty happy with that reason to be honest" you smirked at Blanca who shook her head with a grin on her face "Watch it"

-

The next few days were fine, he still got a semi everytime you walked around in your mini bikinis and those shorts that showed all of your ass but he tried to control himself, felt he succeeded okay.

It was on the fourth day he snapped again. You had been taking a walk from the restaurant you had eaten at and stopped to buy ice cream and take a dip in the ocean.

You were yet again wearing only your bikini top and those tiny shorts that felt unnecessary to even have on because they didn't hide anything in Carlos's mind. Your hair was once again wet, dripping down your back and then it was the ice cream.

He knew it was just in his head, but it felt like you were provoking him, licking the tip of it in such a way he almost wanted to moan.

When he came back home he immediately walked up to his room and into the shower. He couldn't stop the images of going wild. Once again you were on the floor looking up at him with those big innocent eyes and licking the tip of his dick just as you had been the ice cream.

He could feel the tip of your tongue, could hear the small sound you surely would make at the taste of his precum that was pearling at his tip, he slid his thumb over it, imagining it was your tongue and he moaned loudly. He gripped his cock harder, slowly moving it down, imaging it was your mouth sinking down on him. The picture was so hot he jerked in his hold.

He sped up eventually, eyes closing to savor the filthy imaginations that were playing in his mind, like a slideshow. He could feel your touch, hear your voice and see you. It was all too much and he soon came over his hand, for the second time thinking about you.

He sighed as he let the water run down his body, cleaning him up and he let his head fall back against the tile. Maybe it was what it was. He would move on eventually, not get hard at the mere sight of you. It would be fine.

Carlos didn't fight it anymore, there was nothing he could do about his body's reaction. He sighed deeply and shrugged to himself. He lost the battle and he was really fucking attracted to you. Maybe that was just how it was now. 

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 292

“Oh I am blaming all of this on you T,” one of the beings in the summoning circle groans, burying their corpse-pale head in clawed hands as their white hair flickered. 

“Me? Excuse me, I wasn’t the one to accept the summoning!” another being protested, hood hiding most of their face save for molten-gold eyes and glittering runes or code on dark blue skin. “I was trying to figure out how to convince PK to change our schedule to include more sleeping, so don’t look at me, look at S!” 

“Well I didn’t accept it,” the only girl-sounding one scoffed, her crown of thorns seeming to writhe and bloom in her black hair for a moment. She crossed her arms, narrowing green eyes just a few shades darker than the white-haired one. “Maybe talk to whoever decided to summon us?” 

All of the sudden the cultists and heroes were being peered down at by a trio of… honestly whatever they were, because they didn’t seem to be the “Infinite King” the cult had been attempting to summon. Actually, they kind-of-maybe looked like kids… Which probably meant their parents or caretakers wouldn’t be too pleased. 

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Daedalus (Aegon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: On the eve of Aegon’s coronation, both of you disappear. Your mother imagines a thousand scenarios. But were you really abducted by him or is it a simple coincidence?

Warnings: Pretty mild. Aegon. Some mentions of marital rape (Viserys, we are looking at you) Mature language. Infidelity (Poor Helaena) Fluff.

A/N: My first Aegon fic! Whoever manages to catch all my Greek mythology references will get a gift ;) Try to claim it in the asks, replies or reblogs.

“THE INVENTOR IS trapped.” Helaena says, sitting down by your side with her doll. She drops it to the floor as if it means nothing, and you hurry to pick the babe up. You cradle the doll in your arms and give it a toothy smile.

Your Lady Mother sighs. It’s a long-suffering sound. You are too young to understand the why, but she is looking at Helaena in a weird way.

“Why don’t you go get dressed and ask your maids to take you to the courtyard?” She asks, tapping your head with a gentle finger. You jump up, overjoyed. You have been begging your Lady Mother to go out for ages! Your twin, Aemond, is always allowed out of the nursery, but for you, it’s a rare luxury.

In your excitement about finally going to see what he does when he is not visiting, you forget about Helaena’s words.

The maids pick a pretty green dress, that looks like a miniature of the ones your mother wears. You feel really pretty in it, so you give a few spins, shrieking with laughter at how the silk skirt opens up like a flower in full bloom.

Helaena blinks from her place on the floor.

“I am scared.” She says, tugging on your mother’s skirts. “There is a beast beneath the floorboards.”

Your mother’s gaze shift from you towards Helaena. Her face twists.

“It’s fine. There is nothing there.”

You stare at yourself in the mirror, and pretend you are a Queen, too. You puff up your small chest, and push your shoulders back.

“I want to see my knight.” You say, placing your hand inside one of the hand of the maid. The woman smiles, indulgently.

Your mother laughs.

“Of course.” She gives her blessing, carefully tracing the Seven Pointed Star on your forehead. “Aemond and you are just like your uncle Gwayne and I used to be.”

“Why is he not here?” You ask her, full of youthful impertinence. You cannot fathom why your Uncle Gwayne is apart from Mother, if they are like you and Aemond. Your twin and you can never be parted, for you are two halves of a whole.

“Because, sometimes, girls are sent away from their families, to start a family of their own.” She explains, brushing your hair back.

“I will not! I will stay with Aemond.”

Your mother sighs. She looks between Helaena and you.

“The maiden will be taken.” Helaena mutters, a chubby fist coming to grasp your skirt. You pull away.

“Run off!” Your mother orders. “Before I regret it.”

So you do. Your maid takes you to the courtyard, where Aemond is training. She gestures to Ser Cole, to notify him of your arrival, and the knight bows his head in acknowledgement. You change hands as fluidly as silver dragons do.

Ser Criston is careful to prop you up a set of stairs, from where you can safely observe what your twin is doing. At eight summers, you are a quiet but cheerful girl, who doesn’t dare stray from what she knows.

The trips outside the nursery are novelties for you. As you grow old, you will come to realize your mother was frightened by Helaena’s odd behavior, and didn’t want to let you out of her sight for very long in case you turned out like her. But unlike your siblings, you are no dreamer and you are no dragonrider.

You will build wings of your own, one day. But you do not yet know that, do you?

Currently, you do not dare stray away from the perch the ever watchful Ser Criston has placed you in. You like Ser Criston. He is a knight, and wears your mother’s favor each time there is a tournament. You find him very handsome, and like the idea of your mother having a protector on him.

Your own protector is Aemond. He says one day he will grow into a knight and slay all those that mock you for not having a dragon. You love your brother. He has kind eyes, and steady hands. He never minds playing dolls with you.

He is now busy playing with his own dolls, though. You feel a bit confused because you would never treat yours like that. He hacks at them with his sword, whacking them so hard some straw starts to come out of them. You frown.

Aemond will later tell you these are not dolls, but rather practice opponents, filled with the righteous fury boys get when accused of acting like girls. You do not know what is so shameful about it.

As you watch him, oblivious to the rest of the world, a heavy hand falls on your shoulder, making you jump.

“So mother finally left you out of the nursery, huh?” A boy, older than you and Aemond, ruffles your hair. You squeak, trying to get away. You had sat still for nearly an hour for the maids to braid you a crown like the ones your mother wore. He isn’t going to ruin it.

You take pride in imitating mother. You wear her slippers, sometimes, and practice your curtsies until they look just like the graceful drop she does when you see the King. One day, you will perfect them, but for now, your tiny knees and short legs don’t quite allow it.

“Prince Aegon!” Ser Criston interrupts, rescuing you from the older boy. “Leave the Princess alone! Come, you and the other… Princes are late.”

You stare at the boy with interest. So this is Aegon. Your older brother, the one that never bothers with visiting the nursery. Your mother and grandsire speak of him in hushed tones, and Aemond is much more open about his disdain. He is meant to be a rowdy boy, forever teasing him.

You get the feeling he might be one of the boys that Aemond intends to slay when you are older. You are not too sure why Aegon would mock him for not having a dragon. No one mocks you, and you don’t have one either.

“Is Helaena coming too?” Aegon drawls. He doesn’t seem much enthused by the prospect. Probably because he thinks girls are icky. Aemond has told you so, especially when you want to cuddle.

You pout. No one is paying attention to you, Aemond too focused on his exercises and Aegon and Ser Criston carrying a whole conversation over your head.

“No, Princess Helaena is…” But whatever Ser Criston is about to say is interrupted because two brown haired boys are running in, carrying their swords. His face sours, twisting in the same way mother’s does when Helaena says something strange. “You are late.”

“Hello!” The bigger boy says, stopping in front of you. He has dark eyes and hair, so different from your siblings and Ser Criston. He looks a bit like mother, actually, and it makes you jealous. “You are Aemond’s twin?”

The mention of your beloved brother brings you out of your sulk.

“I am!” You are proud of your older brother. So much, you do not even mind being known as his twin. He is an accomplished prince, and very nice to you.

“She does have a name.” Aemond steps in, setting down his sword. Always your protector. “And it should be Princess to you.”

“I am a Prince too!” The boy is very cheerful. The notion makes you frown. You do not know a Prince or King with dark hair, but you have heard in Dorne there is a royal family who has it, so maybe he is from there. “Will you stay to watch us train?”

“I came to see Aemond.” You explain, meeting his eyes over this other prince's head. Your brother gives a smug little smile. “I’ll stay if he does.”

“In that case, can I have your favor, my Princess?” The other prince asks you, face serious. Ser Criston looks like he is tasting something bitter. You aren’t too sure why.

“This is not a tournament. Now, if we may begin…”

“Oh, Cole, let the boys have their fun.” The tallest, hugest man you have ever seen, says. He appears to have just entered the courtyard, and you watch, amazed, as he squats next to you. “Aren’t you going to be a little heartbreaker when you grow up?”

He boops your nose, making you giggle. You find you like his eyes.

“Of course you are here, Strong. Late, too.” Ser Criston looks even more annoyed. Aegon giggles. Aemond continues hacking at the doll. You wonder if you asked, they would let you try. “I am not bringing the Princess to practice again if the boys can’t focus.”

That makes you sad. You wish to come back, especially because you had never thought the world outside your nursery could be so fascinating. There are foreign princes, and giants, and knights, and Aemond. You have to know more.

“It’s not her fault.” The giant defends you. You decide that you like him already. “Prince Jacaerys is just curious. Let’s indulge him. You favor, little lady, to your knight?”

You giggle. The thought of giving your favor is an exciting one. You will be just like mother with Ser Criston, even if this is no real tourney!

“Are you serious?” Aegon asks, to no one in particular. “This is foolish.”

You check your pockets, but you have nothing beyond a few dust bunnies.

“I don’t have a ribbon. Or a handkerchief.”

“Here.” The giant says, and very delicately cuts a strip off your sleeve. You watch in amazement as he twists it and turns it into a ribbon. He presents it to you with a flourish.

“You cannot do that to the Princess!” Ser Criston intercedes, picking you up. He places you against the wall. His face is angry. “Enough!”

Suddenly, a guilty thought strikes you. Aemond is still hacking at his doll, shoulders set in a tense line. You came to watch him, not this boy. You have to support your twin.

“Ser Criston?” Your voice is small. You fear upsetting the knight further. “Can we give half my favor to Aemond?”

Aegon looks at you. He steps closer, and examines your face as if you are a particularly interesting creature.

“Why would you want to give your favor to him?” He complains. “He doesn’t even have a dragon, and he is at most four feet. Not much for a knight, is he?”

It angers you, how he dares make fun of your twin. Aemond suffers deeply the lack of a dragon, just as you do. Your jaw clenches, baby teeth clanking together with how hard you grit them.

“He is mine.” You turn towards Aegon, words failing you to convey exactly how much you support and root for your brother. “I am sure he will win.”

Something passes in Aegon’s eyes. Something like the look Aemond gets when there are talks of dragons, or the one you used to get when thinking of spending time outside the nursery and lessons. But it only lasts a second, and then he is tugging on the strip of cloth that has been cut from your dress.

“One for me, too. Wish me luck, sweet sister.”

“THE CITY HAS been turned upside down, my Queen.” Ser Criston says, frowning. “There is no sign of them.”

Alicent collapses in her loveseat, her knees falling to hold her. Her poor, precious girl. The one more like her, the kindest one. The perfect half and companion to Aemond.

Aegon had taken you, in an unexpected show of wickedness. Oh, that devious Aegon. She would say the crown had gone to his head, but he had barely had time to learn of his father’s death before fleeing the Red Keep.

It was all her fault. If Alicent had been firmer, if she had put a stop to his transgression earlier, he would not have dared abduct you. But she had been too lenient, excusing his deviance in his Targaryen blood, and refused to act when she found him touching himself in windows, or fondling the serving girls.

Oh, but to take such liberties with one’s sister! Oh! He would have never dared, had she not encouraged the match with Helaena. It was no wonder he had turned towards you, and thought himself with the right to take. Alicent herself was to blame. She should have never allowed it.

She lifts her hands to her temples, massaging them.

“Good Gods, what will we do?”

Where are you? Where has he taken you? Some coin is missing, and so are some of your cloaks and dresses. Your wretched brother, impulsive as he was, had planned this to the detail.

The clothes suggested something long term. Permanent. Alicent can’t bear the thought. What depravities does he plan to subject you to? Is he beating you? Threatening you? Keeping you bound? Her mind is driving her mad, imagining scenarios upon scenarios, each worse than the last.

“I think we should inform the Lord Hand.” Ser Criston hesitates. Alicent understands it all too well. Her first instinct had been running to her father. With his resources, he was bound to find you faster than the ragtag team of Ser Criston, Aemond and her. But then, she had thought of what he would do when he had his hands on you.

What is a Princess to a King? What is a girl to the Iron Throne? Her father had already answered that question once, and Alicent had suffered greatly for it. He had been willing to risk her honor to place her sons on the throne. He would torch yours if it meant sitting Aegon in that ugly chair.

She had always thought she was sparing you, by keeping you unmarried. After seeing Helaena’s misery in her marriage to Aegon, and her own torture at Viserys’ hands, she had hoped to save you from that same fate. Things would have been so different if she had married you off.

You would be safe. Either in a castle far away from King’s Landing, or under your twin’s watchful eye. Aemond had grown into a violent man, a terrifying one, but remained loving towards his sisters. Aegon would have had better luck stealing you from the Cannibal than from under his vigilance.

It was all her fault. If she had married you to him, you would be here, with her. If she closes her eyes, Alicent can see you still. Sitting on the windowsill, humming a catchy tune from Volantis. Mending your brother’s shirts alongside her. Laying with your head on her lap, talking about the latest developments of the Citadel.

But instead, you are the Seven know where, being brutalized by your older brother. On your hands and knees, or with your head shoved in a pillow, crying as he does as he pleases with your body and unable to run back home.

“Has Aemond found out anything?” Alicent asks Criston, as he offers her a handkerchief. She had not realized tears were leaking down her cheeks. Embarrassed by her display, she wipes them angrily.

“The Prince… The King is not at his usual haunts. Prince Aemond offered to scour Essos, but I fear…” The knight looks clearly uncomfortable at the thought. Alicent understands. If Vhagar is seen over Essos, both continents will know something is amiss. Not to mention, the essosi won’t take kindly to dragons in their sky. Some wounds are too fresh to be truly forgotten.

“We won’t be able to keep it concealed if we do.” Alicent purses her lips, trying to find a suitable solution. When she comes up blank, she decides she has no other choice. They are wasting precious hours already, precious hours Aegon might be using to brutalize you, or to take you further away from House Targaryen’s influence. “Inform the Lord Hand. Tell him the King has taken his sister, and that both Prince Aemond and Princess Helaena will scour Essos.”

“But that means leaving the Red Keep unprotected!” Ser Criston protests. Alicent stares at him. She had known that the succession issue might turn into war for quite some time, but she cannot bring herself to care about it now. The threat of Rhaenyra seems far away, not quite real. A villain from a storybook. It’s much different from the actual threat on your life. Aegon.

Alicent had never thought she would have to fight her son to spare the rest of you. You, from dishonor. Helaena, from the embarrassment and shame. Her grandsons, from the rumors that will sure surface.

But it has come to this. And let it be known that when Alicent Hightower goes to war, she does so in bright-green flames. There is no hiding, no pretense. She will send her best soldier, and sniff Aegon out like the dog he is.

“If Dreamfyre is left behind, it’s the same as if she goes. My daughter is no warrior.” She is referring to Helaena, but deep in her heart, she knows neither of you are. Alicent is frightened by the thought of you breaking and her finding you too late to stop it. “Perhaps, both dragons will find them faster.”

“The Lord Hand will not…” Ser Criston says, uncomfortable. Alicent shakes her head. Despite his help all these years, he is no parent. If he were, he would realize that it doesn’t matter, whether Rhaenyra decides to burn Westeros to the ground or take the Red Keep. Alicent only cares about her children’s safety.

“I do not care. We will bring them back.”

Ser Criston makes a face.

“Perhaps it would be unwise to say that the King took his sister. We do not know if she…”

Alicent sees red. Does he dare deny it? Does he dare place the blame on your shoulders?

“The King took his sister. My daughter is a dutiful young woman, just like her twin. I will not have you drag her name through the mud!” She shrieks, slamming her hand down on the table. “How dare you!”

It’s a universal truth. Kings are born with grasping hands, and the thought that everything is theirs to take. And when you are a woman, no matter how modest, you cannot escape their attention once you are set in their sights. Alicent had tried once, to escape a King’s notice. But his hands had been too big, and she so small, and he had grasped at her, squeezing until she was unable to move.

Ser Criston looks concerned. He takes the verbal lashing without complaint, even if his eyes tell her he disagrees. But Alicent knows the truth, and it is enough. He is not a woman. He is not a mother. His opinion doesn’t matter.

“Of course.” Ser Criston bows his head, and begins to exit the rooms. “I’ll inform the Lord Hand, my Queen.”

The platitude sounds empty in her ears. Man that he is, he is no longer concerned with your honor but Aegon’s. Your grandfather will be the same. They will destroy your reputation only to save his.

It won’t happen again. Alicent thinks of Viserys’ hands, grasping her hips. Of how she had cried, forced to engage in acts no maiden should be exposed to. Of how she had to keep quiet, carry this great shame of hers because it was her King who ordered it.

But Viserys is dead. Alicent won’t be silent any longer. She grasps a lantern, and her sturdiest boots, and begins to patrol King’s Landing herself.

They will say later that the Queen dowager walked a thousand days and a thousand nights, searching for her daughter. And that she never stopped lighting the candles on your windowsill, not even when Queen Rhaenyra took the Red Keep, not even when the Prince Aemond was vanished after telling her upsetting news. When asked why, her words were simple.

“So she can always know her path home.”

THE WEDDING FEAST is not as grand as the one celebrated when your older sister married, but it is to be expected. Aegon is not heir to anything, regardless of your mother and grandsire say.

You had watched the whole ceremony from one of the benches inside the City’s Sept. Aemond had sat by you, tenderly holding a few handkerchiefs, just in case you started bawling. Most of them have been used by your mother, but you thank his gesture regardless.

There is not much to cry about, truly. Aegon and Helaena are nothing like the pictures of happiness mother described to you when talking of newlyweds. In fact, as Aegon changed Helaena’s cloak, she looked ready to bolt. And he looked miserable.

“Do you think we will marry too?” You ask Aemond, quietly. Ever since he has claimed Vhagar, he has grown more serious and brooding, shedding the last of his childhood innocence. He is a bit terrifying, now, which you think is wicked.

Your Strong nephews no longer mock him so easily. You are all the more glad for it. He would make a worthy husband, capable of protecting you. Or so mother says.

“If we are ordered to.” He answers, squeezing your hand. His face contorts into a strange mix of unbearable fondness and disgust. “Is it such a bad prospect? I heard talk of betrothing you to a Lannister.”

That had been your grandsire’s suggestion. Pawning you off for gold. Literally. At ten and two years of age, you were considered a comely maiden, with the regal Targaryen hair and none of the strange habits of your older sisters. It made you quite a commodity.

“Better a dragon riding husband than a lion of the Rock.” You smirk at Aemond, voice pitched low enough no one can hear you. “We could ride on Vhagar and find out if the world is flat or a sphere, as some Maesters say.”

The thought is enticing to you. A life spent learning the mysteries and secrets of the world that surrounds you. Getting to see far beyond the walls of the Red Keep.

Once, your prison had been a nursery. Now, it was a labyrinth made from red stone.

“I want more glory for my life than being a traveler. I want to leave fame and memory when I die.” Aemond complains. “Besides, the Lannister marriage may do you some good. You would be a Queen in everything but name. A much more secure….”

You shush him before he can say it. Your mother sits on his other side, absorbed by the wedding taking place, and ridding Aemond of the handkerchiefs he had brought for you. It would do no good to point out her failures when she is already that emotional.

Still, Aemond’s words linger around the two of you, silence charged. Marrying a Lannister would be a more secure position than the one afforded to Helaena.

“I like you better.” You finally say, before your mother can notice the lapse in conversation between the two of you.

“I suppose, if I had to… I rather it be you.” Aemond sounds still a bit disgusted by the notion. You know it has less to do with you, and much more to do with his inability to admit he has emotions. Knowing that trying to wrangle an admission of fondness out of him is useless, you decide to focus on the new couple.

“They don’t seem as comforted.” You point out, watching them exit the Sept hand in hand. Helaena is deadly pale, probably at the thought of consummation. You think if it were you marrying Aemond, you wouldn’t be as worried as she is. Being a twin means your built is pretty similar, so he cannot make cruel jokes about your appearance without insulting himself.

Aegon, though, seems much more cruel.

“Yet again, they are not us. We are closer.” Aemond takes your hand and helps you get up from the bench. The two of you wait patiently for the Sept to empty a bit before trying to make your exit. If you have one thing in common, it is that you both despise crowds.

“Wouldn’t that make it harder?” Because you think of having to muster up arousal to bed Aemond, and suddenly, the thought of marrying him doesn’t seem as palatable.

But before Aemond can answer you, probably making a mockery of your sentimentality and your inattention to your lessons, your grandsire interrupts you. He waves a hand to both of you, enthusiastically, as if you were about to run off.

Aemond and you exchange a glance. Your mother stops sniffling.

“What are you two youngsters up to?” He asks, as he reaches you. He gives each a little shove, and you grit your teeth not to let your annoyance show. “Come, to the carriages. You must attend the feast.”

“We know, grandfather. Aemond was escorting me.”

“Of course, young Aemond, ever the dutiful brother.” Your grandsire claps his hand on Aemond’s shoulder. “And you, my dear, the spitting image of your mother. Some could learn from you.”

He gives a glance to the entrance of the Sept, but the couple has already departed. You eye him in suspicion. Otto Hightower never says things without a reason. He must want something.

“Well, it is no matter. You should sit at the newlyweds' side tonight. Perhaps you might curb your siblings' impulses.” And there it is. You fight the urge to roll your eyes. It would be unladylike.

“It shall be done as you say.” Aemond says, and begins leading you to a carriage. He helps you up, careful not to let your puffy green skirts track into the mud. You are wearing a new dress, cut similarly to the ones your mother wears. You have recently flowered, and are enjoying the novelty of wearing grown up styles. The two of you settle across your mother and grandsire.

The night goes downhill from there. Aemond ends up seated next to Helaena, his intimidating figure helping ensure she doesn’t run and no one tries anything funny during the bedding. You end up next to Aegon, with the difficult task of stopping him from getting drunk.

You had heard once a story about a man condemned to roll a giant rock up a mountain, only for it to fall back down when he was reaching the top. The memory feels fitting. You imagine he must have been as miserable as you are. As soon as you snatch a goblet from Aegon’s hand, he is reaching for another.

The mummers are boring, the same old spectacle seen in all Westerosi weddings. A play about the Conquest, with a man who looks nothing like the Conqueror as the male lead. With how loud the musical parts are, you cannot even converse with Aegon.

So when you are at the edge of your wits when it comes to methods to stop him, you gesture for a servant to bring you parchment and a quill. Aegon pauses his drinking, if only to observe what are you trying to write during a wedding.

The note is simple, and prompts a scowl out of him.

Stop drinking. You are embarrassing Helaena.

For a second, it seems like he is going to ignore you. Then, he yanks the quill out of your hand, and messily scribbles.

Mother, you mean.

You have to lean in to write on the parchment, since he is childishly refusing to let go of it. Your eyes meet his. It strikes you, then, how young he looks, despite being the eldest. He has one of those faces, round and sweet, just like your mother’s. When he smiles, half drunk, he reminds you of a deviant cherub.

In a year’s time, you could be welcoming your first nephew. Aegon looks barely out of childhood himself. Even Aemond looks more grown up.

Her, too.

Aegon notices you are studying him, and looks away, uncomfortable. He still replies.

Why do you think I do it?

There is no longer any space in the parchment, so you take out a fresh one. You pen with careful letters, trying not to waste as much space as you did with the previous one.

Do you ever feel like you need to run away from everything?

All the time, sweet sister.

You stare at the words, feeling like you have discovered something you cannot yet name. But before you can match the intuition to an actual concept, someone is calling for the bedding, and Aegon stands up, mask firmly on. He makes a show of it, leering and hooting, much to Helaena’s discomfort.

The moment of vulnerability is lost, and all that is left is the note you hold inside your clenched fist.

AEMOND IS TASKED with finding you, a task that enrages him and fills him with pride in equal parts. He is torn between the hash feeling of your betrayal, of your abandonment, and the fact that he has been tasked with something of such importance. Finally, time for him to prove his worth.

But oh, your betrayal stings. It’s not like he is surprised, having known that you intended to travel the known world, but he is bothered that you didn’t seem fit to inform him. Aemond is the other half of your soul, after all.

At least you had taken Aegon with you, removing an obstacle for his path to the Iron Throne. When he caught up with you, he might forgive you only for that. He had the best motive, after all. Protecting his sister was an honorable excuse to save him from the title of Kinslayer.

With Aegon dead, he would force you to wed him, saving you from dishonor. It would be your punishment for leaving. Aemond would enjoy your enraged face as you were forced to sit with him on the Iron Throne. Unlike Aegon, he didn’t want to bed you, but he enjoyed annoying you for sport. Nothing would annoy you more than being forced to be Queen.

His sweet sister. His milk and cream sister. Aemond had been so worried at first. He had bought on Mother’s crazy theories, thinking you were abducted against your will or whisked to a pillow house in Lys, like it had happened to that Swann lady a few years back.

Then, he realized the absurdity of it all. He had checked the dragonpit first when sent to pursue you. Sunfyre was gone, and Aemond had known this had been your plan all along.

Truly. How foolish Mother was, to think you, Aemond’s other half, could be subdued by Aegon. You were not Helaena. You were made of sterner stuff. Pure Valyrian steel.

Besides, he had heard all about how you needed a dragonrider to take you around the world during your childhood. You had proposed it to Aemond plenty of times. If anyone was abducted, it was probably Aegon. In a strike of brilliance, you had strengthened your beloved twin position and got to take the vacation you had been moaning about ever since you knew how to talk.

His biggest clue about it had been the lack of clues left in your wake. The escape had been too well planned to be born out of Aegon’s head. No dragonkeeper recalled unchaining Sunfyre, yet it was clear someone did because dragons don’t take flight on their own while chained.

No key was missing. No one saw anything the night the two of you vanished. Aemond decides to check Flea Bottom, but he already knows that no trace of you will be found there. This has your fingertips all over it, and even if it didn’t, Aegon was too devoted to you to take you there. He was no Daemon Targaryen, no matter what your mother thought.

This is how he knows it: A secret he has kept for years because it had suited him to do so.

When both of you had been four and ten, your mother had taken you to visit Daeron in Oldtown. Since neither you nor her were dragonriders, Vhagar had been left behind. The journey had taken weeks, almost an entire moon. And there was, of course, the three moons you had spent there, exploring your mother’s childhood home.

The months of the road had changed both of you. During that time, Aemond had actually needed to begin shaving, if he didn’t want to walk around with three miserable hairs on his chin. He had also hit a growth spurt, shooting up like a weed, and his shoulders filled.

In contrast, your changes had been much more dignified. You had stayed the same height, a fact he had used to mock you for ages. Your hips had filled, and you had suddenly grown teats.

The night of your arrival, you had been upset. There had been a mix-up, and the dress commissioned for you to wear on the welcome feast had been made to your old measurements. You had not been able to squeeze into it, and had cried ugly tears in Aemond’s bedroom, refusing to leave because you had gotten fat.

Your mother had solved the problem, of course. She had dug out one of her old dresses, belonging to her mother before her. It was a black one, sequined and embroidered in such a manner it emulated the flames of Hightower. You were enchanted. Called it a priceless heirloom, and danced the night away.

The dress had elicited mixed reactions. Your father and grandfather had both stumbled, as they were seeing a ghost. But Aegon? Aegon loved it.

You had turned into a woman, and looked and behaved so much like mother….

He had been unable to keep his eyes from you during dinner, salivating over you despite having his lady wife next to him. Helaena had been uncaring, not particularly interested in what Aegon did. She had done her duty, having birthed him babes already.

Helaena had been happy to see you, and told you all about the collection of bug-embroidered napkins she had been making for you in the meanwhile. Perhaps your excitement over getting a gift from your sister, prompting you to chatter endlessly with the couple, had been what confused Aegon.

Aemond had kept a careful watch on his brother, noticing that for once, he seemed to be drinking little. A measly two goblets, when usually, he took four. Instead of gorging himself on the drink, he had been gorging himself in you.

His eyes wandered all night. Drinking in your new teats, still blossoming for you were just a girl. Your pretty arse, thanks to the days spent riding horses to get back home. And he had thought himself entitled enough to do the unspeakable.

You had gotten up so you could pass the bread to your mother, when Aegon glanced at your prone form, and gave you a hearty slap on the arse.

The noise had resonated in the hall, making everyone freeze. You had started crying immediately, embarrassed, while Mother berated Aegon. Helaena and Aemond had exchanged a look, both too stunned by the display to speak.

The rest of the guests watched, before laughter rang across the silent hall. It was Daemon, lifting a cup to Aegon. The other guests followed in the merriment, laughing at the fondling you had just received.

Your face had crumpled. More tears fell, face red from public humiliation. It was a feeling Aemond was intimately familiar with, and couldn’t stand to see in his beloved twin’s face. You gathered your skirts and fled the hall, your perfect night ruined.

Aemond had lunged then, grabbing his brother by the collar.

“How dare you dishonor our sisters so!”

But Aegon was standing already, and running after you. He was a tad uncoordinated from the wine, but managed to catch up, Aemond hot on his heels.

Oh, when he got his hands on him, he was going to kill him, Aemond had thought. Daring to pursue you to humiliate you further!

You were huddled in an alcove, hands pressed to your mouth to muffle your cries. At the sight of you, Aegon had looked like someone had struck him.

“I… Apologies, sweet sister… I…” Aemond had never heard him stammer such, much less apologizing for his deviant behavior. He had even leered at Helaena during his own bedding, by the Seven! “I confused you with a serving girl and I…”

You had looked at him, eyes full of betrayal. It was how Aemond imagined he must have looked just before he had lost his eye. You had not spoken a word, shoving both of them in favor of running off again.

Aegon had never touched another girl after that. No longer servants were being dismissed from the Red Keep, with small cups of Moon Tea. No longer Helaena cried because he had visited her drunk. Even the whoring had gone down to reasonable levels.

It was why Aemond doubted you were in as much danger as your mother thought.

YOU BEGIN TO spend more time around Aegon. After that upsetting night, you had chosen to believe in his apology. It hadn’t been as bad, really. Just a spank, that had blown out of proportion when your uncle had laughed.

Your mother had noticed that Aegon had reacted to your consternation in a manner he had not to her scoldings over the years, so she had asked you to keep an eye on him. You find out it is no hardship. He cannot anticipate your every thought like Aemond, but it is expected. He is not your twin.

He is much more fun, willing to engage in any silly games you come up with. Aemond no longer has the patience for them, but Aegon does. Or perhaps he is just feeling guilty. You do not particularly care, as long as you get a companion.

You sit next to him at meals, and ask him to join you for tea in the gardens daily. He stops complaining about there not being any wine after the first moon of your routine. Exercise and sunlight do wonders for his mood, too.

Your newest game consists on slipping him notes during the day, exchanging them in the corridors as you bump shoulders and pretend not to know each other, or tucking them in the pockets of his doublets. Aegon even slips you some back, into the pockets of your cloaks.

You love it. You feel like you are partaking in some sort of courtly intrigue. Exchanging secrets while no one looks, carrying a conversation no one is privy to. You should burn them afterwards, Aegon says, to make it more real, but you find yourself holding on to the notes and saving them.

You will show them to Jaehera and Jaehaerys when they are older. Perhaps the twins will develop a secret language of their own, like Aegon and you. Or perhaps they will become more like Aemond and you, twisted mirrors of each other. Whichever they are, you are sure they will be great. The coin flipped right with them, you can feel it.

Aegon waits patiently for you to tire of playing spies, like you do from all else. You do not have a good track record, with a short attention span and an overeager imagination. You have ceased in your attempts to learn to play Cyvasse, invent a card game, and implement a new communication method using kittens. You had even attempted once to train a bird, but had grown frightened when it started bringing you rats as presents. This, too, shall pass.

He is mistaken. Three moons go by, and you are still at it.

“Isn’t it a bit silly?” He asks you, when it's clear you weren’t going to tire of the game soon. “Passing me messages as if we are spies, when you could just speak to me?”

You cannot explain to him the secret thrill you get every time you see him, the swooping feeling in your stomach when he appears in the hallways and calls you his sweet sister. Much less, how at night you lay in bed, and hold the notes tight against your chest, close to your heart.

How you reread the jokes and the compliments, and imagine him next to you, speaking them into your ear.

It's wrong. Aegon is a married man. And yet… Yet. You have always been the perfect daughter, mirror to Aemond in your dutifulness. A pious lady, respectful of the Seven and her elders. You can have this small thing, surely.

You cannot voice it. He would find it odd, he would no longer want your company. So instead, you give him a secret, coquettish smile. It’s an expression you have seen on your half sister’s lovely mouth, when she bends men to her will. You have stolen it, sharpened, made it deadly.

“Indulge me, brother.”

And Aegon looks at you, and his breath catches. It’s only for a second, but it feels like an eternity. You hear it, the pause of his even breaths, his pulse quickening. You would know him by heartbeat alone, this brother of yours.

“You are a child.” Aegon complains, after clearing his throat.

“Yes. And so are you.” You poke him in the ribs, forcing him to jump to avoid you. It makes you laugh.

“I am a man grown.” Aegon argues, trying to sound dignified.

You pause. You remember your mother’s words, asking you to guide him onto the right path. He is just a boy, underneath it all. Young, foolish and hurting. No one has ever paid him attention, so he acts out to obtain it.

Aemond and you resort to other, more unconventional methods. Both of you do everything right, and pretend not to need anyone.

To this day, your father hasn’t noticed either of you.

But perhaps, you can help him. Give him what he requires and help your mother too.

“I will believe you when I see it. Whoring, drinking. That is not what men do.” You scold, softly.

“Daemon does.” Aegon’s brows furrow, as if sensing a reprimand. You can tell that if you do not hurry, he will sour to you as he has to your mother.

“Does father? Grandsire?” You challenge.

“I do not want to be like them.” He confesses. You take his hands in yours.

“Neither do I. But if we wish to be different, we need to be sober.” And while Aegon looks unhappy, he still squeezes your hands back. “I need you to be.”

He has to do it for himself one day, but for now, he can do it for you.

HELAENA AND AEMOND give chase for days. Their mother sends them in the same direction, but with opposite instructions. While Helaena is not supposed to venture too deep into Essos, Aemond is supposed to scour the farthest Free Cities.

Their meeting date is two weeks into their travels, in the last of Helaena’s destinations. Volantis is as colorful as it is beautiful, and Aemond finds himself fascinated by the sights. He has to agree with you, the world is full of wonderful places just begging to be seen.

Helaena has stationed Dreamfyre at the edge of the city. She comes with a few trusted guards, while Aemond travels alone. He doesn’t need protection when he has Vhagar.

“No success?” He asks her, as he dismounts. They do not dare go further on dragonback, as to not upset the citizens. Starting a war with the Free Cities is the last thing they need right now.

“I heard a rumor.” Helaena says, sliding off Dreamfyre’s back as if it were nothing. Aemond marvels at it. Despite being so ungraceful on land, Helaena looks like a true queen on dragonback. Like she belongs here, and not like she walks a path between realms that would be unfathomable for any man. “About a silver girl and her gold dragon.”

“What do you make of it?” Aemond asks her, hoping she will speak plainly. He also hopes she is not hurt by the news. He was never good at comforting people.

Helaena isn’t the most affectionate of his siblings, but she loves in her own way. Aegon is the father of her children. Some love might be there. Any woman would be furious to hear her husband has run off with her sister. It’s an insult so low, Aemond wonders how she is keeping herself together.

“The rats won’t come for us now.” She answers him, cryptically. Her expression is calm. If she is bothered by what her siblings have done, Helaena doesn’t show it. “Best to keep them there. They can’t touch them there.”

“Who is they, Helaena?” He prods, gently. His sister doesn’t answer. She pets Dreamfyre and gets that faraway look she sometimes wears, when a picture it’s forming in her mind and she can’t quite express it.

Aemond remembers a story about a seer, cursed to walk the earth sprouting prophecies no one believed in but that always ran true. He wonders if dragon dreams are a curse of their own, making those who see the future unable to communicate it.

“I want to find them.” He pleads, holding her by the shoulders. “Please, Hel, this is important.”

Helaena looks at him. Or through him. Aemond doesn’t know. What does she see when she stares at his features? What threads of fate do the Seven weave for him? Helaena can probably read his tapestry, but she would never tell him.

She takes her time, examining his features in search of something. Her shoulders slump under his hold.

“Spare them their chains, Aemond.”

So Helaena knows where you are. They. Aegon and you. But this time, it is not that she cannot tell him. It’s that she won’t.

“Just to see them.” He lets go of her shoulders to grab her hands instead. Helaena’s hands are cold and clammy under his. Aemond knows physical contact bothers her, but he cannot help himself. He needs to know. There is a hunger in him, gnawing at his bones, consuming his flesh. It might devour him alive, if he doesn’t make sure you left willingly. “Will I succeed?”

“The maiden no longer walks alone. The King has taken her. Now she is a Queen, and feasts in a garden full of delights.” Helaena squeezes his hands. Do you understand? Her eyes seem to say, do you understand what I am telling you?

Solve my riddle. Figure it out. For I cannot, I will not tell you more.

Aemond knows this story too. About an older man, who nobody loved, who takes a younger woman and makes her his Queen.

“Did she go willingly?” Aemond asks her because the versions of the story vary, and he doesn’t exactly know which one she is referencing.

Helaena smiles at him, full of pity. Poor man, who understands nothing.

“You may walk out of the Seven Hells, after seeing the one you love. But you will turn back.”

Aemond stares. Helaena climbs back up on Dreamfyre and departs, leaving him standing there.

YOU LAY IN the gardens, feeling sun drunk. Your cheeks are red from the heat. The grass is staining your dress, but you do not care. The warmth feels so good against you, so nice and inviting. Your eyelids drop. Resting your eyes for a few minutes can’t hurt, right?

“Again?” An amused voice says. You open your eyes to look at Aegon. He carries two goblets in his hands.

“It’s so warm.” You mutter. You don’t question how he has found you. Earlier this morning, when you slipped him a note, you mentioned you would be in the gardens. In the Red Keep, immense as it is, that could mean anywhere. But you always find yourself under the same trees.

Your spot, as Aegon calls it. You like it because the trees are positioned just so as to protect your eyes from sunlight, but not the rest of your body. You can read without being blinded, but also nap in the sun.

“Mother says princesses shouldn’t tan.” He sits beside you, handing you a goblet. It’s full of cold water. “You are not some commoner working the fields.”

“Mm.” You mutter, still sleepy. You understand cats so well, sleeping under the sun rays. You wish you were a cat to nap all day in a windowsill and be hand-fed morsels. That sounds like a great life.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Aegon sounds amused, and it’s then you realize you didn’t share those thoughts with him. Did you spoke them aloud? “Yes, you did. Get up, you are getting heat stroke. Drink your water.”

You obey him, sipping at your goblet. The coldness from the water helps you clear your head, and notice that your face feels hot, and your chest is red.

“Not again.” You complain, tucking yourself more into the shadow the tree produces. Aegon simply watches you, a smirk on his lips. “Mother will murder me.”

“I warned you.” He laughs at your expression, a petulant mix of a pout and a scowl. “Drink. I want to teach you a card game while you cool down enough to be presentable.”

Aegon aids you drink from your goblet, careful to not let the water spill. He tucks your sweaty hair behind your ears. Meanwhile, you marvel at how much he has changed, during these years.

He is still undeniably fun, much more than Aemond or you. But he is no longer drunk all the time, and spends his time trying to get you to lighten up and learn new diversions. You like this version of Aegon, who calls you his sweet sister still, but whose face has lost the bloated look alcoholics have. He looks healthier, hair thicker, dark circles less pronounced.

You have been trying to make him work on his tan. He refuses. Your serious nature has not rubbed on him, but he is healthier and treats you with the utmost kindness.

“I would like to learn how to bet.” You tell him, confidently. Truth is, you want to go for another ride on Sunfyre. He has grown just enough to carry two riders, and you miss flying. Aemond no longer takes you in Vhagar, more focused on martial exercises.

If you manage to win a bet, perhaps you can claim a ride on Sunfyre as your prize. Aegon is wary of taking you again because last time, mother had caught you and scolded you until your ears were ringing.

“Betting, sweet sister…” Aegon sips from his goblet, giving you a half smile. “It’s an art one cannot learn in one afternoon. Depends on the game you are playing.”

“An art? By the Seven, I never knew Flea Bottom was full of artists! Someone should tell Daemon, for he has been a real patron of the arts and never knew.” You say, tone flat.

Aegon snorts so hard, the water comes out through his nose. You laugh.

“As I was saying, depends on the game. With cards, you look at them, but if there are cocks involved…” His tone turns lecherous. You gasp, outraged. You are not a prude, but dirty jokes still embarrass you. Were it not by how sunburned you are, you are sure a blush would already be present on your face.

“Um, hello, as in the animal!” Aegon tells you, as if it were obvious. There is a telling little dimple in his face, though, one he gets when he is fighting laughter. “Get your mind off the gutter. What would mother say?”

“Oh.” You say, eloquently. Is he being serious? He has not burst out laughing yet, so he might be, and his amusement could be out of your dirty thoughts. You feel even worse. Perhaps your mind is really in the gutter.

“Those, you choose carefully. Look for the bigger. The girthier…” You shriek in indignation, not allowing him to keep speaking. You hate being so gullible. He always gets you.

“Shut up! I thought you were being serious!” You tackle him, beginning to tickle his sides. When the two of you stop laughing, Aegon places his arm for you to use as a pillow and you curl into him. The two of you nap under the trees the rest of the day.

He has found out a better way to get drunk by the end of the afternoon.

ALICENT IS AT the end of her tether. She hasn’t slept in days. Every time she lays down, she imagines the terrible violations you must be being subjected to. Her poor girl, forced to submit to her deviant brother’s whims.

The pictures in her head won’t let her sleep. They remind her of another young girl, barely of age, taken by a Targaryen King. Being summoned, asked to lay still and spread her legs. To bear it with a grin. To sacrifice herself for the good of the realm, for her family.

Her honor, broken. Her sister believing her a whore. Warming the bed where another bleed.

A dutiful daughter. A dutiful wife. A dutiful whore. Nursing him by day, working over him at night, until her thighs hurt, and she thought, is this what being a Queen is like? She had not felt Queen of anything, except the Seven Hells.

Whore, mother, daughter, wife. It makes no difference. Girls, all over the world, were just vessels for men. Even Princesses, even Queens.

Despite Aemond’s reassurances that you are probably fine, and that Aegon would never hurt you, Alicent cannot stop herself from worrying. Aemond doesn’t know what she does, after all.

Deep within her heart, to take to her grave, she carries a secret. A dark secret. One Aemond is not privy to. Alicent doesn’t dare tell him, either. It would mean further stain on your honor, and more anguish to your twin.

It’s better only she knows. This way, it’s her burden alone. It will not drag you down, or worry your siblings. Safe within the confines of her mind, the secret cannot hurt anyone.

Inside Oldtown, there is the Hightower. In the highest tower there is, next to the powder used to change the color of the flames atop the beacon, is another box. The box has three locks, and a chain wrapped around it, for good measure. It’s made of pure valyrian steel.

Inside the box, Alicent keeps the secret: She had caught Aegon kissing you once.

It had been shortly before your father’s death. You had been helping with the preparations for receiving Rhaenyra and her sons, overseeing the cleaning of the locked rooms. Alicent had tasked you with the responsibility, and you, her brilliant, dutiful girl, had not disappointed.

She doesn’t remember why she had been looking for you. Perhaps, to ask you about where you intended to place the babes, if in the old nursery or in the rooms set aside for their parents. She does remember it had been early afternoon.

The door had been open, so Alicent had not knocked. Alicent had entered Rhaenyra’s old chambers to find your brother crowding you against a wall. Aegon held you in a passionate embrace, his hands helping themselves to your hips and buttocks.

Your dress was bunched up around your waist, and your hips darted nervously from side to side, surely trying to avoid his touch. You were yowling like a kitten, hands pushing on his shoulders.

Alicent heard your distressed cries, your twitchy little movements, and saw red.

“How dare you!” She screamed, uncaring if someone else heard her. Aegon jumped away from you as if your touch burned you.

You had wiped your mouth, face red.

“Mother… I… I am so sorry…” You were so ashamed, so small, and you had reminded her so much of herself it hurt her. The nights where her father ordered her to go to the King, and she couldn’t refuse. How she had been told fighting wasn’t ladylike, that she had to submit to men, let them throw her around as if she were a thing and not a person.

It filled her with rage. It made her want to scratch Aegon’s eyes off with her own nails. Throw herself to the floor, and scream loud and never stop.

“Don’t say a word, my love! Aegon, how could you!”

It was anger, and pain, but also guilt. Guilt, because she knew what Aegon had been up to with the serving girls. Because Alicent had encouraged him to see his sister as a woman, and not a simple sibling. Because she had taught you the same things that she had been taught, that you weren’t to resist or fight, that you were to bear it all with a grin.

Her poor, poor girl. If she had given you a sword, would you have defended yourself? Screamed? Pushed him off?

But instead of a shield and a sword against the world, she had handed you a mirror and forced to make your peace with it. Only Alicent was to blame.

“Mother…” You tried again, tears coming to your eyes.

“Go to Aemond. Now.” Alicent had ordered. She had then berated Aegon until he confessed everything was his fault, and slapped him for his attempt on his sister’s virtue.

She wished she had gelded him, then. A King with no heirs would have been one of the usual tragedies, just like girls being hurt were. None would have merited more than a footnote in the history of Westeros.

YOU ARE COMING of age, and the whole realm is celebrating. Twins are unusual, and the royal family being blessed with two pairs in two generations merits some celebration.

Both Aemond and you have managed to survive until adulthood, a marvel on itself. Sometimes, it felt as if you wouldn’t make it. Especially Aemond, after claiming the biggest dragon in Westeros and losing his eye. You worried about your twin, sometimes.

As always, you embrace the frivolity with gusto. You commission a gown for the occasion, and dance with every single person attending the feast. Not even your father had been spared, holding you close and swaying to the music before growing too weak.

Your grandsire, despite his objections, had been dragged into the merriment too. As had Daemon, your nephews, your twin, your brothers, your friends, and your sister. Twirling in the makeshift dance floor, you had been the life of the feast, allowing Aemond to quietly brood.

Everyone was enchanted by the beautiful princess, and her joyful manners. There was already talk of how lovely a bride you would make, and how happy your future Lord Husband would be with you by his side.

But you wanted none of it. You had started to develop conflicting feelings for Aegon, and wished to untangle them first, before thinking of marriage.

In truth, you didn’t imagine a life outside the Red Keep, one where you had children and stayed in the same place forever, even in death.

When you dared to dream, you always saw yourself on dragonback.

When Ser Martyn Reyne asks you for a dance, you do not hesitate. You agree to let him twirl you between the tables because he is a friend of Aegon. Even if you do not like the way he smiles at you, like he wants to eat you whole.

It is then you hear it and your smile freezes.

After you dance, you go get a refreshment, and noticing you haven’t danced with Aegon yet, you approach the group he is with. Ser Martyn is also there, well on the way to being drunk.

“And I swear, your sister has the prettiest teats in the Seven Kingdoms!” He bellows, before burping.

You cannot see Aegon’s expression from where you stand. His back is turned to you. The other men have not noticed you yet, so you creep closer. Has he gone back to his old ways? Your heart feels like it’s breaking, but you need to know. Especially if these new feelings are what you think they are.

He had started kissing you, recently. But you cannot tell if this is just a game to him or if it is more. You cannot risk it. You have to know. Your childhood infatuation with him has grown teeth, nails, and become a monster that threatens to devour you. He is a married man, but the heart doesn’t know of vows or Septons. It only knows of want.

“Bet she is a little freak, just like your brother. I know her cunt must be so sweet, too. Princesses are meant to be.” This is Eddard Waters. You know he is one of your brother’s friends, and even more boisterous than the others.

“And you intend to sample her, then?” Ser Martyn asks him. You make a face. As if you would let any of these fools between your legs.

“You know what they say… The wettest the cunt, the…” But whatever rude thing Water was going to say is lost because Aegon punches him in the face.

It’s glorious. It’s ridiculous. Your brother fights like a commoner, slamming the wine jug on his friend’s head. A brawl breaks out around you, more people jumping in trying to separate the Prince from the knights, as he screams, bites and trashes.

“My sister is off limits!” He screams, fiercely. Aemond materializes by your side, tugging you away from the fight that has ruined your nameday feast, but you stay there.

Even as he throws you over his shoulder, and gets you out, not hesitating to unsheat his sword to get you to safety, you stay there.

Looking at Aegon holding his knuckles, probably having broken them. He has never been good at fighting.

Looking at Aegon, standing up to his friends for the first time in years. For you.

It strikes you then, standing in the middle of the Hall, as if it were lighting. You love him. You love him.

Love. You love him, and it changes everything.

How can people speak of love as a choice, when in reality it is an arrow that strikes you, lighting hitting you in the middle of a storm? When it roots you to a spot, and shatters all your bones? Choice. As if. You do not choose Jaehaerys, you do not choose your Daemon. You do not choose the rain that will soak you to the bone as you leave the hall.

WHEN AEMOND FINALLY finds you, you are holding to Aegon’s hand as the two of you stroll through a market in Braavos. There, your features aren’t as recognizable.

He sees it, then. Not with his eye, but with his heart. Out of all the possibilities, he had been right.

The silver girl, with her golden dragon. Spurring him up, higher, faster, further. And while wax melts, dragons do not burn.

You look happy. There is a playful smile on your face, when you tug on Aegon’s hand and force him to run, Aemond hot on your heels.

He vows to remember you as you are, his fierce, brave twin. Your ferocious grin as you disappeared into an alleyway, twisted towards a gate, whistled loudly.

“Tell mother I chose to run. Not Aegon.”

And then you are running towards Sunfyre, Aegon helping you mount. Aemond, having not dared bring Vhagar inside the city, doesn't follow.

He has to inform his mother. She refuses to believe in his words, thinking he is doing her a kindness, fabricating the story of a couple in love, of a runaway Princess.

But with the clarity of death, she decides to visit your rooms one last time. Despite her aches and pains, and the recommendations of the Maesters.

The eve before Queen Alicent’s death, something compels her to get out of her bed and search your old rooms. The pain doesn’t let her sleep, tortures her at night. Her own mind is a labyrinth that traps her, filled with monsters that will kill her.

The first one reads:

Everything is as you had left it. In this place, no time has passed. And beneath the bed, in a box, she finds it. The tale of your romance.

Do you ever feel like you need to run away from everything?

Underneath your elegant scrawl, Aegon’s chicken-like letters answer,

They say she died of a broken heart, in her old age. But perhaps, and just perhaps, knowing the truth set her free.

All the time, sweet sister.

[sparklingblu]

Eroverse

Pt.4 - O, Death

ft. Lisa & Shuhua

You can't stop screaming.

Even when you were a kid, you have never been a big fan of slides. They make you want to puke. Seems like it still haven't changed because as you spiral down this endless glowing tunnel of light, you can feel your lunch trying to escape from your stomach. Further worse, the tunnel twists and turns at every few seconds so your body get tossed around like a volley ball. Thankfully, the walls aren't solid. They feel more like trampolines, catching and tossing you each time you make contact.

Kazuha is a completely different case though. She has her eyes closed and looks almost peaceful, like this is just a regular occurence to her. She has her arms wrap around her knees, her hair floating upward from the fall.

You have no idea where you are headed to. Sure, Kazuha has saved you from the ruins of the city but who can say she doesn't want to kill you either? Maybe she has just let Yeji suffer so that she can take her time killing you. What if she's leading you to an even worse place?

And the mysterious 'He' all these idols keep talking about. The one who has given you the strength to defeat Eunbi. The one Yeji hates so much. From what Kazuha had said, they seem to serve him. Is he also an idol replica? The leader of all those clones?

Your thoughts are cut short when the tunnel turns steeper and your body rolls a three-sixty degree. A few more seconds of this and you are gonna be rolling in your own vomit. If it's even possible, the tunnel is glowing brighter. Perhaps, a sign of nearing the journey's end. You close your eyes because you don't want to see black spots for the rest of your life.

The last thought enters your mind. The upside down pentagram that has filled you with strength. The mark, Kazuha and Yeji had called it. And your cock that can now be used as a subsitute flashlight. Not really a good idea.

The lust you have felt is almost inhuman, like you can just use any female in your sight for your pleasure. It has been the only thing in your mind until the mark has disappeared. It makes you feel special yet afraid. You nearly lost your dick because Yeji wants the mark gone. There can be more people (or creatures) like her out there with the same intention. Is it a price worth paying?

Suddenly, your mind goes blank as the tunnel empties out into a wide opening.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

For once, you are not lying on a flat surface or tied up in a chair. The material beneath you feels soft almost cottony. You can just sink into it forever. You take a few deep breath to calm your churning stomach and when your heatbeat becomes normal, you sit up, opening your eyes.

You are not in the midst of an apocalypse or a boxing ring. A good sign. However, that doesn't make the scene around you any less unusual. You are in a penthouse suite, the kind of place only the richest of the rich could afford.

At your back, a smart TV playing the 1968 version of Romeo and Juliet takes up most of the wall which curves into a corridor that leads further in. On the pedestal near the tv sits a bust of a young girl with a laurel wreath on her head, the kind you see in museums. Facing the pedestal on the other side of the room is an island kitchen, painted pastel pink. Everything on the counter screams diabetes which includes jars of chocolates, sweets and lollipops. The air smell sickly sweet like decaying flowers. You won't be surprised if Willy Wonka walks in right now.

The walls are made entirely of glass, giving you the perfect view of New York city skyline. Then you blink and the scene shifts into the sandy dunes of Egypt with the pyramids. Another blink and you are staring at the lush green trees of the Amazon. Not the craziest thing after all the crazies you went through.

"Not on my couch, Kazuha! How many times do I have to tell you?"

Looking down, you find yourself seated in a couch that looks suspiciously like it's made of some sort of fur. Instinctively, you stand up. Whoever the owner is, they don't seem too happy with your arrival. Turning back, you see Kazuha emerge from the corridor, followed by the owner of the voice.

"Oh, you can just buy another one. It's not like this is your first"

"This is a limited edition!"

The guy behind Kazuha gives you a forced smile like he's trying so hard not to get mad. He looks no older than 25 with wavy blonde hair and a drowsy expression on his face. He also has a bathrobe wrapped around his body so it looks like he has fallen asleep in the bath tub. Walking to the kitchen counter, he plops a candy into his mouth from one of the jars.

"Welcome, Michael" He bites down on the candy with a loud crunch. "Or should I say chosen one? "

For some reason, his voice sounds strangely familiar.

"You summon me here?" You ask.

"You can say that. It wasn't my initial plan though. But well, I can't complain" He shrugs.

"Who are you?" Not the most important question but the first one that comes to your mind.

"Questions immediately huh? Can't blame you though I have kept you in the dark for so long" He unwraps a chocolate bar and takes a bite. You don't want to be this dude's teeth.

"Wait, are you the one...?" You suddenly realize why he sounds so familiar. It's the voice that has appeared in your first two quests.

"Eh eh eh" He raises a hand to cut off your words. "I like to introduce myself in a bit of a mysterious way"

"Why can't you just tell me your name? And I still have a lot of questions left"

"Patience, Michael" He chomps down another large piece of chocolate. "I will explain everything to you, trust me"

"Ok, go on?"

"Well, I'm quite the famous one. You see me at least once a year. Actually, all you humans have some kind of connection to me"

If he's a celebrity, you are pretty sure you haven't seen him before. And all you humans? To you, he looks very human so it would be quite hard to believe if he's something else.

"No idea"

"Oh, come on" The guy scowls, wiping off the chocolate around his mouth. "Think again. There's even a song about me"

You think as hard as you could but nothing comes to your mind.

"Still no idea"

"Dude, I expect you to be smarter than this. Look around you, this room is already giving me away"

He's definitely not Willy Wonka but there's nothing else you can associate with this fancy expensive room.

"Can't you just tell me the answer already?"

"Listen to me" He clears his throat and starts singing. "I gave a second chance to Cupid. But now I'm left here feelin' stupid"

You quickly cut him off because if you hear one more second of his god awful voice, your ears are gonna start bleeding.

"Cupid? You are Cupid?"

The guy grins contentedly. "The greeks called me that but I prefer my roman name 'Eros' "

When you hear the word Cupid, all it comes to your mind is the image of a winged baby in a diaper holding a bow and an arrow that you see in Valentines day decorations. Certainly not some sweet toothed blonde.

"You don't look like him"

"Like a baby in a diaper? Oh, please" He grimaces. "If I meet the guy who starts that idea, I'm gonna strangle him with my bare hands"

You still have a hard time believing this dude is the god of love but you decides to go with the flow.

"The one who sends me on all those quests, that's you?"

"Absolutely. It takes quite a while but finally, here you are"

"I don't understand"

Eros pours water into his mouth from a jar. You feel bad for his dates.

"For a long time, I have been searching for the owner of the mark"

"That mark on my-?"

"Yes, the one on your pelvis. You possess the mark of Asmodeus"

"Ass what?"

"Asmodeus" He corrects. "Only a single person is chosen by the mark every few millenniums. Today, it made its first appearance"

"So I'm special or something?"

"You are far beyond special, Michael. You have the power to....what do you humans call it again? fuck any being in this whole universe"

"In english please?"

"Let me ask you something, do you believe in gods?"

His question leaves you baffled. You are not a regular church member or the type who prays before sleeping. The only times you remember god are the times you scream 'Oh my god' when you slip and fall.

"I have never given much thought to the subject"

"Let me ask you a different question then, what do you think gods look like?"

"I don't know. In white robes and long moustaches?"

Eros chuckles. "Ehh they still depict us like that. Actually, no. Look at me, I'm a god. What do I look like?"

"A human?" An obvious answer yet it sounds stupid.

"Correct" Eros snaps his fingers. "Gods take on the form of humans. Well, our branch of gods at least"

"Hold on" You stop him before your hair is set ablaze from all the new questions that have filled your brain. "Gods are real?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Ero asks. "I know it's hard for you to believe but we are very much real"

You are still not convinced. For all you know, this guy could be some mentally ill millionaire who likes to cosplay gods.

"Oh, you need some proof, I see"

Eros snaps his fingers and suddenly, you are hovering above the ground. You want to scream but you can't. It's like someone have stolen your voice.

"Is it enough proof?"

You nod desperately and Eros snaps his fingers again, sending you sprawling on the hard floor. Trying not to groan from the pain, you stand up slowly.

"Ok, so you are a god. And I have the mark of Ass whatever. What about all those idols? They aren't real, are they?"

"Oh, far from it" Eros answer. "But they are the perfect replicas"

"You created them?"

"Oh, no. That's their own choice. And that takes us back to the old topic. What kind of human forms do you think gods take? Not everyone can be as handsome as me, right?"

You are not sure if he can be called handsome with his choice of fashion but you keep your mouth shut.

"Just....humans?"

Eros shakes his head. "You are not wrong but let me elaborate. Since the dawn of time, the gods have changed into many forms. Those bearded drawings you saw of us? They are our oldest forms. But as times change, we change too"

He chugs down more water from the jar, sending some spilling across his robe.

"We takes on the forms of the most famous figures through history. Cosplaying, like you humans say. It makes us feel perfect. Then when the 21st century comes, a great change happens"

Eros pauses for a moment just to raise your curiosity. Then he continues.

"The idols. No one have ever been as close to perfection as them. Sure, there are some remarkable ones like Helen and Cleopatra but they are nowhere near as perfect. All the goddesses went crazy, taking on the form of the ones they think are the most perfect"

"All the goddesses? What about the gods then?"

"Us males aren't much of a fan. We still like being Alexander or Tom Hanks, or just a random handsome guy like me"

"Then all those idols I met, they are goddesses?"

"Well, no" Eros contrasts. "Let's just say the others follow the trend. They wanted to cosplay too"

"The others?"

"The gods aren't the only beings that exist along with humans. Monsters, sorcerers, you name it. For the idols you met, they are cherubims, my servants"

"Cherubims? Like angels?"

"Sort of. Yes"

You don't know if you should be glad you have been fucking angels all those time. You hope it doesn't have any side effects.

"They don't seem too fond of me"

"Why do you think I created the 'Ero' app in the first place? It's a test. I send quests to all the possible candidates of the mark through the app. Most don't wake up after the jump, the rest face a worse fate. But you, you survive all of them"

"Thanks. I nearly get my dick cut off"

"That's not my fault. You see, for the quests, I create small dimensions and put a cherubim in each of them. I call those dimensions the 'Eroverses'. Pretty cool, right?"

You don't know how naming everything after your first three initials is cool but you are not gonna argue with a god.

"Most of my servants don't complain. But well, some rebels and Yeji, she gets mad at me. She destroyed one of the Eroverses and kidnaps you there. But it's all for the better because it awakens the mark"

"One last question, you lent me strength when I was with Eunbi. Why?"

"Let's just say you are very promising. I don't want you out of the game early"

Most of the questions you have had on your mind has been answered. However, it doesn't make you any less confused. You feel like a restricted area of a brain has been unlocked. An area that should have never been opened.

"So, the gods are real and they are idols and I have the mark of Ass whatever. Now what?"

"I have a proposal for you" Eros's tone has the slightest hint of slyness. "Be my apostle"

"Come again?"

Eros sighs. "You are pretty dumb for a writer"

"Hey, being a writer doesn't mean I know everything"

"Anyway, what I want to say is, work for me"

"No thanks, I don't want any more idols trying to kill me"

"Listen till the end. I can give you anything you have ever want. Sex? Money? Luxury? In return, you only need to vow your loyalty to me"

"And what exactly I need to do for you?"

"You have the mark. I want you to utilize it to do my biddings"

"I don't get it"

"Just consider it as more quests. Not as easy as the last ones though"

Is this guy joking? You were playing with your life all this time and he thinks it's easy. If he considers those quests easy, the next ones might be a thousand times worse.

"There's one condition though" Eros continues. "You have to stay here with me. You can no longer go back to your old life"

"And where exactly is here?"

Eros gestures towards the glass wall, beyond which now lies Venice with its canals and boats.

"Everywhere and nowhere" He explains. "Consider it an alive building, constantly shifting from one place to another. You know, I don't like beauty being confined in one form"

His explanation doesn't exactly answer your question but you focus on the more important matter. Eros's proposal sounds intriguing. You can stay here, work for him and acquire everything you have ever dream of. The downside is that you will always be on the brink of death. The reward is high and so is the risk.

Or you can say no and go back to being an ordinary unsuccessful writer. There's no downside here but no upside either. And you are not even sure he will send you back if you turn him down. That guy is looking at you like an exotic animal. So, you make the obvious choice.

"I'm in"

Eros looks like he's going to pass out with joy. "I know you would accept it. See, Kazuha? I told you"

Kazuha, who has been silent all this time simply shrugs.

"Glad you are happy"

Eros rub his hands, an ugly grin plastered on his face.

"Well, we will discuss about your quest tomorrow. For now, I want you to rest. Lisa?"

From the corridor, another idol emerges. Lisa, the member of blackpink. After seeing the way she's dressed, you instantly start to get hard again despite fucking Yeji's brains out just a while ago. Lisa's perky tits are covered by a metallic bra and her skirt isn't doing its work properly because it consists entirely of metallic beads that expose almost all of her round ass.

"Yes, my lord?" Lisa asks, walking towards eros. You caught a glimpse of her trimmed pussy as the beads sway and dance.

"Take Michael to room 3" Eros orders. The jar of candy on the counter is nearly empty now. He should have been the god of diabetes, not love.

"Of course" Lisa gestures you to follow her and you oblige. However, your eyes are glued to her bare ass. If she has not been worldwide famous, you would have thought she's a stripper. Maybe this version of her is. You just want to reach out and grope that thai ass. It tempts and tempts you with each step she takes. But after finding out those idols are actually angels, you have become more thoughtful.

Lisa leads you through the corridor which soon opens up into a large circular hall with an enormous marble statue of Eros in the middle, a young man with two large wings sprouting from his back and the iconic grin on his face. You are starting to hate this guy even more.

"This way" Lisa walks towards one of the many doors that that line the walls of the hall. The number 3 is carved onto its wooden frame. She simply touches the door and arcs of light spread in all directions. The next moment, it's unlocked.

"This is the room you are gonna be staying in. If you need anything, there's a telephone on the desk. Just call 001"

"Alright"

Lisa bows and leaves, giving you one last view of her toned ass beneath the beaded skirt.

Your room is nothing less luxurious than the rest of the building, a suite with a seperate living room and a bedroom. It contains every possible items that can entertain the human's mind. It's oil and water compared to your old apartment.

As you enter the bedroom, your eyes are blessed by the view of the Victoria Falls beneath the dying sunlight through the glass walls. Why travel the world when you can do the same thing here?

The queen size bed is already beckoning you to crash out but you decide to take a shower first. You start reflecting on everything that have happened today as the cold droplets of water run down your body. In a day, you have went from a broke writer to an apostle of a god. You wonder if anyone will miss you after you disappear without a trace. Maybe Russell would. But he might just be the only one. You have always been a loner and it would be no surprise if no one notices your disappearance.

The important thing is you will be living the life you have always wanted. Just with a few catches. You instinctively touch your pelvis, remembering the mark. For now, it doesn't have any weird burning symbol. 'You have the ability to fuck any being in this whole universe' Eros has said. Now, you are not sure if it's a really useful ability. On second thought, invisibility or even flying would have been better.

However, you are too tired to be wrestling with your own incompetence because the exhaustion is starting to creep up your body slowly. As soon as you have changed, you throw yourself on the huge bed and fall asleep.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Your dreams aren't as comforting as your bed.

You are back in the ruins of the greek city, tied up to the chair and your pants pulled down. Both Eunbi and Yeji have surrounded you, a gladius in each of their hands. A smile creep up from the corner of Yeji's lips as she raises the sword.

"This time no one's gonna save you"

Eunbi follows suit, raising her sword and bringing it down to your mamba. No burning symobls appear. No Kazuha to save you. You are done for real this time. As the sharp edges land, you scream.

"What's wrong?"

A voice snaps you out of the nightmare. You gasp and open your eyes. Your whole body is drenched in sweat from the aftermath of the dream. As your heartbeat returns to normal, you start feeling a warm sensation in your lower body.

Looking down, you find your pants pulled down but not to cut your dick off this time. Lisa's face hover just a few inches from your morning wood, a string of drool connecting her lips and the head.

"Did I scare you?" she asks.

You shake your head. "No, just having a nightmare"

"Shall I get back to work then?"

"Sure"

Lisa immediately dive back on your cock, taking half of your length into her mouth in one swift motion. While she's bobbing up and down, her tongue assists by twirling around your leaking slit, collecting your precum.

She's still wearing the same outfit as last night and she has raised her ass, giving you the view of her toned buttocks beneath those beads. You still can't fulfill your goal to grope her ass but the way she blows you is enough to diverge your attention.

There's no doubt she has experince. It's evident from every single move that consist in this mind blowing work of hers. She makes sure that her lips trace every single throbbing vein, swallowing more of your cock with each bob. The gagging sound that accompany her movements do nothing except fuel the lust inside you. She would look up from time to time, her eyes asking you if she's doing a good job and you reply with moans and groans.

Just as you are thinking about closing your eyes, Lisa devours your whole length, taking it down her throat. Another groan escape your lips. There's no way you are going to miss the view of her nose pressed against your pelvis now. The idea of closing your eyes have been thrown out ofthe window.

She holds the position for a few more seconds before releasing your cock from her warm cavern with a loud 'pop'. With drool seeping down her lips, she looks like a vixen rather than an angel, a naughty one at that.

"Are you feeling good, daddy?"

Your cock twitches at the mention of your new name. You are amazed at the wonders a simple word could do to your body. Or either you are just being a hopeless pervert.

"Yes, very"

Lisa smiles at your compliment and reward you by taking you into her mouth again. This time, she makes sure your tip hit the back of her throat with each bob. Her saliva spills like a waterfall onto your bedsheet but that's the last thing you care about right now. Eros can pay for the housekeeping.

Just to get a change of sight, you turn your head to the window. The snow covered mountains and the cozy little houses of Greenland glitter under the rising sun. But they can't capture your attention for too long because glaciers aren't as captivating as the scene unfolding between your legs.

Lisa's pace remains unwavered, solely focused on using her oral hole as a tool for your release. She hold on to your thighs for support as she gobbles up your cock like a popsicle far more tastier than all those sweets Eros have. Her tonguework remains as impressive, licking up any part she could whenever your length exit her throat.

This might just be heaven, you thought. Getting head while you travel the world in a skyscrapper. You could put up with all those bullshits Eros is up to if you can stay like this forever. Even death starts to seem like a worthy risk.

Even with all the effort you are putting in to hold back, Lisa's blowjob is sending you to the point of no return with each passing second. The sight of your cock covered in her saliva and that raised ass of hers proven to be lethal as you stary feeling the tug in your stomach. As your cock throbs harder, you warn Lisa.

"Lisa, I'm gonna cum"

Lisa pulls you out of her mouth to speak, momentarily denying your release.

"Where do you want to cum, daddy? Into my mouth or on my pretty little face?" she asks as she strokes your cock just slow enough to hold back your flood gates from breaking open.

"Let me paint your face"

"Of course, daddy"

Lisa starts stroking your cock with both her hands, twisting and turning every single inch. Her drool acts as the perfect lube, smoothing out her movements. The coil inside you unravel and soon you are emptying your balls onto Lisa's face, jets after jets of cum landing on her face. Most of it make their way onto her nose. Some spread our across her cheeks and a few drops landing on her eyelids.

Lisa collect the genetic fluid with her fingers, sucking on each of them while her eyes bore into yours.

"Mhmm, it's so tasty" Lisa says as she licks up the last of your cum. "Thanks for the meal, daddy"

"Yeah, no problem"

Lisa stands up and stretches. It's hard to believe you just cummed because her stripper outfit is filling up your balls again with a new supply of semen.

"Daddy, you should clean up. Lord Eros is waiting for you"

"Sure. I will come"

Lisa bows and leaves, her hips swaying from side to side. You make a mental note to grope that ass at some point. You get out of the bed, heading to the bathroom to freshen up. You should use that jacuzzi when you don't have an appointment with the god of love. The wardrobe contains every luxury brand one can think of and they fits you perfectly. You decide to go simple with slim jeans and a shirt (Gucci, by the way) and head to the living room where Eros is waiting.

The music is the first thing to greet you. "My heart will go on" blasting at full volume. It's as if Eros can't help proving he is indeed the god of love. It's overkill in your opinion.

The song stops as soon as you enter and Eros turns to you, smiling over the straw of the juice cup he's drinking from. This morning, he's dressed in a toga which is too big for him that it's drapping and pooling around his legs. Seriously, this guy needs a fashion advisor.

"Morning, Michael!" Eros greets as he finishes up his morning dose of diabetes. "Did you sleep well?"

You remember the nightmare but you decide not to tell him. "Yeah, I'm fine"

"You must be hungry. Kazuha, bring him breakfast"

Kazuha walks from the kitchen counter, holding a tray. She's still wearing the same dress. Do angels even change?

"This is Eros's idea" Kazuha says as she hands you the tray and as soon as you take a look you understand what she means. A cup of coffee and a slice of chocolate cake which looks overbaked lies in the tray. Your name is spelled in whipped cream on the plate of watermelon slices. You instantly lost your appetite.

"Hey, it's cool, right?" Eros asks.

You have to hold back the urge to comment on his definition of cool. "Yeah, very cool"

"See, Kazuha? You should start appreciating my ideas more" Kazuha, who seems already used to this just remain silent at Eros's words.

"I will explain you about your quest while you eat" Eros gestures at the tray of food.

You takes a sip of the coffee, which seems like the best option. Surprisingly, it tastes just like normal coffee. Thank god Eros doesn't make it cool.

"I need you to steal an object" Eros unfolds his palms and a hologram of a corinthian helmet pops off, the kind the greeks wore in wars. It seems to be made of obsidian, cracks spreading across its black surface.

"This is the helm of Hades" Eros explains. "And I need you to retrieve it from the underworld"

Suddenly, the coffe tastes like lead.

"Underworld?" you ask. "Like hell?"

"Not entirely but yes" The hologram in Eros's palm grow larger, the helmet now the same size as the real one. "This helmet has the ability to turn its wearer invisible and possesed by Hades, the god of the underworld. Your task is simple. Enter his realm, get the helmet and get out"

The quest is anything but simple. Your last three quests have been based entierly on sex and even then, you have near death encounters. You survive this far because luck has been on your side. But stealing something a god owns is a totally different case. You don't even know how the mark can helps you here. You are sure flashing your cock at a male god wouldn't do the job. Even if it does, you want to throw up at the idea.

"Oh, not to worry. You won't meet him" Eros answers your thoughts. "He's away for business"

That's a relief. There's no way a mere mortal like you can go up against a god.

"But there's someone else you will meet" Eros tone turns malicious. He looks almost happy. "You have to go through his wife, Persephone"

"Pussy what?"

"Michael, can you not misehear things with certain body parts for once?" Eros sighs. "Persephone, the goddess of vegetation. The queen of the underworld"

The goddess of vegetation sounds a lot less scary than god of the underworld. But still,a god is a god.

"So, what do I do?"

Eros unclasps his palm and the hologram disappears. "Hades keep his helm in a safe, which can only be unlocked by a spoken password. Apart from him, only his wife knows it"

"I doubt I can charm her into telling me"

"Then fuck the answer out of her!" Eros says it like its something so obvious. "Use the mark!"

"How? I don't even know how to activate it. It takes someone trying to end my bloodline to activate it the last time"

"That's a matter you have to figure out"

"Even if I do, the underworld isn't a tourist spot. How do I even go there?"

"Excuses, huh? Good thing I have it all planned out" Eros pulls out a flask from beneath his toga. "Easy, you have to die"

You almost spit out the coffee. "You are kidding, right?"

"No?" Eros tilts his head like you just speak in a language he doesn't understand.

"Come on..."

"Only dead people go to the underworld so you have to die"

"Can't you just transport me there? Or you are a god, you can just go in and grab the helmet"

"It's not that simple. I can go to the underworld, yes. But there's no way Persephone will tell me the password and Hades will find out. And if I just send you there, you will be alive and they will quickly sense your presence. Trust me, you don't wan to be alive there"

"Isn't there any other way?"

"Sadly, no. But I have a way to bring you back after you complete the task" Eros pulls out a small vial from his toga again. He shakes the vial to show you the yellow liquid inside. "Drink this and you will be back to life"

"It sounds easier said than done"

"Kazuha will explain you the rest of the details"

Kazuha waves her hand and a map replaces part of the glass wall.

"This is the underworld" Kazuha starts explaining the regions of the place you will soon be going to and you have never focused more in your life. As Kazuha finishes, whatever hope that remains in you has been lost.

"It's impossible" you groan.

"It is. But that's what you do Michael. You remove the 'im' in impossible" Eros's encouragements sounds more like a joke.

"What if I don't make it?"

"You will. I trust you. So are you ready?"

You are totally not but you nod.

"Excellent! Lies on the couch"

"Isn't it a limited edition or something?"

"This is a special ocassion"

You sink into the soft material, heart already racing with fear and excitement. Eros removes the cork from the flask, offering it to you and then he suddenly puts it down.

"God! I nearly forget" Eros fishes into his toga and bring out a silver coin. You wouldn't be surprised if he pulls out a car next.

"Put this under your tongue. Your ferry fees"

You put the cold piece of metal into your mouth. It tastes sour somehow. Eros put the vial in your pocket. Can the object even follow you to the afterlife? You have no choice but to trust him.

"And we are all set! Now.." Eros bring the flask to your lips. "Drink"

You takes a sip of the liquid, which tastes like a combination of ketchup and sewer water. You expect your insides to start burning but there's no pain. Eros shuts your eyes with a wave of his hand. "Goodnight"

A drowsy feeling overwhelms you. It can almost be mistaken for sleepiness except that you can no longer move your body. If this is death, it's not so bad. No more thoughts form in your mind as your consciousness drift away bits by bits.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Dark. Inky. Murky.

All of these words are perfect for describing the underworld.

As you wake up slowly on the shore of black sand, the first thing you notice is the gloom. It's hovering over the place, giving it a permanent dreadful atmosphere. But that's just the start of things that suck the joy out of your heart.

All around you, humanoid shapes litter the shore. Then you realize they are actually humans, or what used to be humans. Most of them wear a solemn expression on their faces, wandering around aimlessly. Their bodies are see through, like those spirits you see in movies. Their outfits range from the Victorian era to modern day designer suits. The majority of them are adults but you spot a few children. In short, it's a crowd of hopeless souls.

Looking down, you find yourself in the same condition: see through. Beyond the shore, on the bank of an inky black river, a cloaked figure sits on a boat. Charon, the ferryman of the dead; Kazuha had explained.

You walk to the boat and Charon looks up. He's a scraggly old man with wrinkles all over his face. "Payment?" he demands.

The coin Eros has given you is no longer under your tongue but you found it in your jeans pocket and hand it to the ferryman. Charon takes the payment with his gnarled fingers and grab the oar. "Get in"

As the boat drifts slowly away from the shore, something unexpected happens. Some of the souls on the shore start to run towards the boat, their lifeless eyes glimming with enthusiasm. You start to panic but Charon simply swaths away the hitch hikers swimming across the black liquid with the oar. He doesn't seem fazed in the slightest bit.

As boat makes it way to the other side with the speed a snail could outrun, you think about suggesting Hades to buy a faster vehicle. A motorboat wouldn't be impossible with all those riches he has underground.

After an eternity, you finally make it to the other shore where the harder part of your quest starts. As soon as you get off, Charon rows back to the opposite side, leaving you on the beach of the same black sand.

Before you rise a towering wall of obsidian which stretch off as far as your eyes can see. A path leads to the opening in the middle of the wall but it isn't left unguarded either. Hovering over the queue of souls that pass under its belly is the largest hound you have ever seen. If the sheer size of the monster isn't intimidating enough, its three heads do the job; their mouths opened to reveal fangs that can snap a plane in half. For the finishing touch, its black fur fits perfectly with the surroundings. This dog literally screams 'underworld'.

You reluctantly get behind the line of souls, pouring into the inside of the wall. According to Kazuha, beyond it would lies the judgement pavilion, where the death will be judged and sent to a suitable place depending on how they have lived their lives. Your quest requires you to take a different path after getting inside the walls. And even if you are judged right now, the result wouldn't be pretty.

As the queue gets shorter and you approach the walls, your kneels start to buckle. You have been able to hold back your fear till now but after hearing the agonizing screams that ring out from the fields of punishment, you start doubting yourself.

To start, you only have the slightest idea of where you are heading to and even if you do get there, you have to interrogate a goddess with your dick. Part of you also wonder why Eros needs the helmet. If it's for decoration, the thing radiates pure darkness and isn't exactly to his taste. Nevertheless, you have come this far and the only way is onward.

A horrible stench tickle your nostrils and that's when you look up and find yourself under the belly of the beast. It would have crushed anything alive to pieces which you luckily aren't. The souls disappear into the wall one after another and soon, you are at the front of the line. Two skeletal guards in combat armor have barricaded the entrance by crossing their spears and you have to look away from their hollow eye sockets before you get the urge to turn and run.

"Elysium!" A judgement is passed from inside the walls and the guards uncross their spears, allowing you entry. A pebble path lies the way to the tall marble pavilion. Another path curves to the right, leading deeper into the underworld. The path to Hades's palace. The path you have to take.

But the task proves harder than you thought with the skeletal guards lining both sides of the way. There's no way you can try to sneak or run away. Luckily, you have one last trick up your sleeve. A gift from Kazuha.

You pull out the pocket watch from your jeans and turns the winder. As soon as it turns a 90 degree, the clock shatters to pieces. For a moment, nothing happens. The guards watch you with quizzical expressions. Then they freeze. Everything is still. Time has stopped.

Kazuha has said it will last about 10 seconds but you are not taking any chances. You push through the guards and run down the path to Hades's palace. Fortunately, there aren't any guards this way. Maybe Hades like to have some privacy. Nevertheless, your speed does not waver, trying to get as far as possible before those guards can find out what have happened.

At your right lies a dusty plane filled with dead trees, their branches crooked and leafless. The fields of Asphodel, where the souls who deserve neither paradise nor punishment are sent to. Souls similar to the ones you have seen at the other side wander the place aimlessly. However, they look...dimmer, fading in and out of place. To you, this endless roaming doesn't sound any better than the fields of punishment.

The place at your left is a completely different story. Crystal clear water encircle an enormous island with sandy shores and palm trees. Architecture from different eras occupy the inland. You can hear the faint sound of music and the smell of spices. Elysium, the paradise for only the most worthy souls. You spot a few souls, who are glowing unlike the others you have seen, dancing on the beach. This seems to be the only place free from the gloom of the underworld.

You have no time to envy though, as you move forward, the obsidian palace of Hades starts to come into view. This building is something out of a gothic nightmare. With its numerous towers and the huge sets of iron doors, it seems to absorb any light that dare comes near.

You stop to catch your breath from all the running you have been doing. Luckily, the guards still haven't found you. But it's nothing to celebrate because there's one last obstacle in your way. Guarding the palace's door are the two biggest skeletal warriors you have ever seen, each weilding an axe. You wish the pocket watch haven't shattered to pieces. If it have just one more use, you might be able to get pass those giants.

You try to come up with a plan. It's impossible to charge head on. You don't have anything that can be used as a weapon and you will be sliced to pieces. And even if there's a weapon, you doubt you can do much against those huge guards. Maybe you can try distracting? But how?

You are too distract drawing up something to infiltrate the palace you make the mistake of leaving your back turned for too long. The next thing you know, a blunt object have landed on your neck with so much force that you fall to your knees. Before passing out, the last thing you see is the permanent grin of a skeleton.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

At this point, you are already the epitome of passing out.

It can't leave you alone even when you are death like seriously? Here you are, making your way all through the underworld just to be knocked out at the last possible moment. That's partly your fault for being reckless but still, it annoys you.

Luckily, the headaches and the pain that usually follow those black outs isn't there this time. Maybe the dead can't be hurt. That doesn't make it appealing though. You would be perfectly fine with being a normal mortal.

"I know you are awake. Stop acting" A shrill voice forces you to open your eyes, finding your hands and legs tied to bed posts by green curly vines. The dim lanterns that line the walls illuminate the circular room made of the same materials as most of the structure in the underworld; obsidian. The thing that stands out the most, however, is the fresco of people getting tortured in various methods painted on the ceiling. If you want to have nightmares every single night, this room would be perfect.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" You locate the owner of the voice to your left. Shuhua, the member of (g)i-dle, stands propping to a bedpost. Her pearly white skin contrasts the black silky dress she's wearing, with a thigh slit to showcase her voluptous legs. She might look exactly like the idol but you know better.

"Persephone?" you ask.

"Oh, I'm flattered. Most people only know my husband. But drop the formalties. It's Shuhua"

You thought humans are obsessed enough with kpop but it seems like the gods are the biggest fans.

"A runner, huh?" Shuhua'a sharp fake nails trace across your chest and that's when you realize your clothes are gone. Speaking from experience, it's not really fun to see the bedsheets through your body. "I can tell you are not ordinary. That little trick you did to those guards. Tell me. Who are you?"

She doesn't seem to be aware of your real plan, which is good news. If you can just stall long enough and get your mark to activate somehow, you might have a chance.

"Michael" you answer.

"You know that's not what I mean" Shuhua's nails travel down to your stomach, drawing circles lazily. "Why do you come here?"

"I die. Would there be any other reason?"

"True. You are dead. But you wouldn't run all the way to my palace if you are just 'dead', will you?"

You fry your brain trying to come up with a logical answer without revealing the truth. But as usual, it fails you at the most vital moments.

"Trying to be silent?" A nail digs in to your pelvis, making you groan at the sudden burst of pain. Then another follows suit and you groan again. Seems like your theory about the dead being immune to pain is wrong. You don't bleed but the pain is ver much real. After all her five nails are planted in you, you are nearly shaking from the torment. Yet, you keep your mouth shut.

"Hmm, not bad" Shuhua extract her nails from your pelvis and you exhale in relief. "There's still plenty of other ways to break you though"

You start imagining the worst torture methods throughout history. If the gods have been around since the beginning, Shuhua would definitely have some knowledge. However, what she does next surprise you.

Shuhua lets a strap of her dress fall from her shoulder then the other, exposing her upper body. You have to avert your gaze from her tits not to get hard but fail as you can feel the blood starting to rush to your dick. The last time you are hard and tied up, the consequences haven't been so pretty. And now you are in the same position again.

Shuhua undo the rest of her dress, revealing her skin inch by inch as she slowly pulls down her dress. Being the pervert you are, your gaze land again on her cleanly shaved pussy and that gets your mamba springing right up.

Shuhua doesn't summon any blade to cut off your dick though. Instead, she gets on the bed, landing her feet on either sides of your head. "Let's see if you can still stay silent" Shuhua gives you a cold smile before lowering her ass right on your face.

You instantly lost your breath(not that way) as her hips comes crushing down on you and her legs straddle your head, giving you no room to escape. Your nose is squeeze between her buttocks, depriving you of of oxygen. Instead of strangling you, she's choking you with her ass. And another discovery. You can still choke if you are dead.

At first, you panic, shaking your body to find a way to escape despite the vines holding you down. Then you remember. There's only one thing to do if a girl sits on your face.

You starts to explore between her legs with your tongue though it's hard with her ass obscuring your view. After a few tries of licking her supple flesh, you finally find your target. As soon as your tongue comes in contact with the moist velvety slit, you dives in, tongue fucking her pussy. Shuhua lets out a moan and shift her hips a little from your sudden ambush, giving you a breath of air. As her ass presses down on your face again, you start licking frantically, tasting every inch of her goddess pussy. Either from pleasure or the urge to interrogate you farther, Shuhua's legs squeeze your head harder.

The pressure leaves your ears ringing but your task at hand is too important to care. Your tongue travels upwards,landing on her clit. Shuhua writhes as you give her sensitive bud a few licks before going back to her slit, which is now so wet you can literally glide on it. The lack of oxygen becomes less and less of a problem as Shuhua sway her hips the longer you take in everything her goddess pussy deliver. And her legs that once squeeze your head are now shaking so much they forget their initial job.

Shuhua isn't even hiding it anymore. Her moans reasonate around the room with every slurp and lick. To be honest, she acts like she does this to draw information from you when all she wanted was for someone to eat her out. This goddess is just one big slut. Your fear starts to drain from your body as you gain the upperhand in this game of ass and tongue. And you decide to make it an impossible one for her to win.

You abruptly stop the movement of your tongue and Shuhua's moans are left half formed. It's risky, yes. She could have just crash yout face with her ass again and choke you. Or......?

"Why....why did you stop?" Shuhua's voice is hoarse from all the moaning. The edgy tone replaced by one of lust.

"I thought you are interrogating me" You mock.

"Yes, yes I am"

"Then why did yoy ask me why I stop? Aren't you supposed to choke me?"

You have her cornered. Now, she can either admit she's a slut or give up on the pleasure she so desperately craves.

"I'm going to. If you don't continue" she threatens and you have to admit it scares you a bit but you pushes on. It's now or never.

"Really, though? You are the one who's on cloud nine after I tongue fuck your hole. Tell me, Shuhua. How long has it been since someone makes you cum?"

"Nonsense! I have plenty of ways to...relief myself. Now get back or else-"

"Or else what?" You cut her off. "You are just a slut who have no one to satisfy the urge of your slutty holes. Or is Hades not fucking you enough?"

"My husband is very busy.." She answers. "He doesn't have time for such luxuries..."

And that confirms your thoughts. The queen of the underworld is just one horny whore.

"You take me here just to fulfill your fantasies, didn't you? You are desperate enough to let a dead stranger in your room"

"No, that's not.." Shuhua protests but her lips betray her, letting out pants and moans as you swipe at her clit one single time with your tongue.

"Now, I'm going to make an offer. Admit you are a slut and I will give you what you need. Or you can deny it and be a horny bitch for eternity"

Shuhua is silent for a moment. Then her voice returns.

"Fine....I'm a....slut" Her words drops to a whisper.

"Can't hear you down here"

"I'm a slut" she finally admits and the deal is sealed. You have revealed the true face of this seemingly cold goddess. But being a man of your words, you would keep your promise.

Shuhua lets out an earth shattering moan as you feast on her pussy once again. The only difference this time is that she's no longer blocking your airway with her huge ass. Not that you mind though. Nevertheless, you tackle her most vunerable spots with each swipe of your tongue and Shuhua can do nothing except writhes and moans.

You really wish your hands haven't been tied up. That way, you would have been able to feel those silky thighs and allowed to take in more of her taste. But you gotta work with what you have and put in every effort to make this goddess cum.

You turn you attention solely on her clit, rapidly circling and teasing the spot with your tongue.

"Yes, just like that. Fuck my pussy with your tongue. Don't stop"

Shuhua thanks you with more carnal groans and moans. And from the way her legs are trembling non stop, you realize her end is near. The knowledge leads you to devour her pussy like there's no tomorrow and Shuhua's pleas to you not to stop are unnecessary because you don't plan to. Not with how sweet this goddess taste.

"Fuck. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum...fuckkkk"

A waterfall erupts from Shuhua's hole, showering your face with her squirt. You keep on licking her moist hole, trying to prolong the orgasm as long as possible. Shuhua lets out a few more jets of her nectar into your mouth then she goes limp, her moans now replaced by pants.

Her pussy is still hovering over your face and you have to fight the urge not to dive in again. You don't want to break her completely just yet. You still need something from her.

Shuhua finally gets off the bed, stuggering to a chair with her shaking legs and plop herself down. She lets out a few more pants then look up at you with the cold expression earlier.

"You are an idiot" Shuhua says. "I have used you. Now you are mine to do whatever I like"

The only thought on your mind? You are very very fucked. Sure, she has admit she's a whore and succumbed to pleasure. But there's one thing you miss. She'a a fucking goddess. And apparently, that's not a metaphor.

"Now, tell me who you are and who sent you. Or else..."

Shuhua twirls a finger and more vines start to creep up your hands and legs. They make their way down to your thorax and abdomen and in a moment your neck will be covered too. The goddess of vegetation seems to be as powerful as any other gods and it's your fault that you underestimate her.

"Wait!" You yell before those long curly things choke you and this time, it wouldn't be as pleasant.

"Yes?" Shuhua eyes you like a trapped animal, an amused smile on her lips.

"I will tell you.."

"Go on"

"I come to..."

You stop as the familiar tingle of adrenaline starts to emerge from your core. It gets stronger withe each passing second until the only thing on your mind is lust. No other emotions matter. The vines wrapping you turn to ashes in a second as a golden aura envelopes you. On your plevis, above your rock hard dick is the red pantegram, the mark of Asmodeus. Once again, a dead threat have activated it.

"It can't be..." Shuhua eyes widen in panic, backing off to a corner of the room.

"Oh, it is" You say with the grin of a mad man as you walk off the bed to her. "And I will show you"

Shuhua unfold her palms and more vines slither up your legs. But as soon as they touch your aura, the green things burst to flames. You are invisible.

"Back off!" Shuhua threatens. "I will kill you!"

"Oh, but I'm already dead" More vines go up to flames around your feet.

"If my husband knows-"

You close the distance between you and Shuhua, gazing into those eyes filled with terror.

"Maybe he will. But right now, there's no one to save you"

Shuhua starts to call for help but you are quicker, sealing her mouth with your palm.

"Not so fast now, hmm? I still need to teach you a lesson"

You grab Shuhua from the waist, throwing her onto the bed like a rag doll. With the strength the mark gives you, such a task is not impossible.

As you approach her, Shuhua attempts to kill you again with those vines but as usual,they disintegrate as soon as they touch the aura. Will she ever learn?

You get on the bed, looming over Shuhua who lays sprawled out. Not being able to use her vegetation abilities, she strikes you with her nails but you grab her wrist just in time.

"Seriously?" You ask as you pin her hands down. "Is that all you got?"

"You bastard!" Shuhua curses. "You will pay for this"

"You talk too much" You capture her lips with yours, restricting any more curses from coming out.

Finally, you plunge your cock into her already moist slit, enticing a moan from her which is quickly muffled by your lips. The only sounds she will be making are the slapping sound of your dick against her cervix.

You start out slow, giving her lazy thrusts to get accustomed to the size of your cock. The feeling of her walls tracing every inch of yours is phenomenal, the way a goddess should be built. However, her juice coats your pole, adding friction with each thrust until you are pistoning into her at full force.

Shuhua's juicy thighs jiggle and you wouldn't have missed the glorious view if it's not for the fact that you have to keep her mouth shut. Shuhua is still trying to resist. A vine or two try to strangle you from time to time but of course, that has little to no effect. The mark wouldn't allow anything else to stop you from fucking this goddess's brains out.

You release her lips for a moment to let her breathe. As soon as her lips are free, she curses again but her breath hitches as you pull out and bury your dick all the way to her cunt.

"What is it again?" You ask as you give her another forceful thrust that reaches her womb.

"I-" She begins but her words get cut off again as your cock hit her womb once again. "Fuck-"

"That's more like it" You praise her, putting her into a mating press position and pounding her hole with all your might.

Shuhua no longer threatens. You stare at her lust filled eyes, far gone with the way she's getting fucked thoroughly. Her tits bounce rapidly from the pace and you can't help but give each of those heavy melons a squeeze each. It's not everyday you get to fuck a goddess and you decide to make the most of it.

"Yes, pound my pussy..don't stop" Shuhua mutters dreamily, her mouth gaped open just like the way her pussy open up for your cock. Realizing she needs all her hole stuffed, you shoved four of your fingers into her mouth, which she eagerly licks and tastes.

"Fuck. You are such a whore. Who would have thought a goddess would be no different from a hooker, huh?" You ask and of course, she can't answer. Not with how her holes are full. But the way her eyes beg for more is enough answer.

"Slut, turn around" You order and she instantly gets into a doggy style position, putting her huge ass out for display. You spank her baby making hips a couple of time again before you thrust into her again. This time into a different hole.

"Fuck!" Shuhua's yelps in surprise as your cock make its way into her tight asshole. Her walls clench down on you hard but the makeshift lube of her pussy juice ease the pressure.

"Tell me Shuhua, have you ever done anal before?" You ask as you buck your hips to fit into more of her tighthole.

"No..no..fuck!" Shuhua curses again as your cock reaches a new depth. Her ass has swallowed most of your cock by now and its taking in inch by inch with each thrust.

"Oh, am I taking your ass virginity?" You ask as you bury your whole length into her ass, her skin rippling when your cervix meets her ass.

"Yes....god!" Shuhua screams as her ass give way to the invading object, molding to the shape of your cock. After a few more pumps, there's no longer any constriction and you are given free rein to mount her.

The cold vengeful goddess is no more. What lies beneath you is nothing but a mere sexdoll who have succumbed to her own animalistic urges. Her only purpose to be fucked through and through by your invading cock.

The power you feel is unrivaled. Sure, most of it comes from the mark of Asmodeus or whatever, but there's nothing better than to see a goddess who have try to take your life fall victim to your cock. She's not the first and she wouldn't be the last.

You pull out your cock to watch her gaping asshole, clenching on nothing as if begging for your cock to enter again. After this session, you are pretty sure she wouldn't be able to live without having something stuffed in her loose hole. For now, you fill it up with your cock once again and she moans in delight, fingers gripping the bedsheet.

As you start hammering into her ass again, the funniest thought enters your mind. Shuhua is no different from the people being tortured in the fresco above. You being the punisher and her sin being a horny whore. Maybr that's just your horny mind speaking.

In underworld terms, you continue to torment her, stretching her out even more that your cock now only feel the friction against her walls. No more tightness. No more clenches. She has been loosened up completely.

You are drowning in victory and rapture, you nearly forget the very reason you died for. You scan the room and spot a large metallic safe in one corner of the room. To your surprise, it looks just like a standard safe, the only difference being the way to open it. It has no keyhole or knob, just one black spehere embedded on the surface. Before the bliss of Shuhua's asshole can cloud your mind again, you ask her the question.

"What's the password to the safe?"

"Wha- what?" Shuhua answers through clenched teeth.

"The password to the safe, bitch" You give her a forceful thrust, tensing her body up.

"I...I can't-"

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No, no-" She begs immediately.

"Then tell me the password"

"It's 'password'"

"Are you kidding me?" Your palm lands on her smooth skin with a loud smack.

Shuhua groans in pain, which is just another word for 'pleasure' to her. "No, I swear. The password is 'password' "

You nearly burst out laughing. It seems the goda are no different from humans when it comes to humor.

"Good girl" You praise. "Now, I'm going to reward you"

Even the mark has its limit. The rush of energy that push you to keep going is getting weaker along with your limbs. And most of all, your balls are aching for a release. You can't stall any more even if you want to.

"I'm going to fill your asshole with my cum, slut. Take it all"

"Yes, yes! Fill me up! Give me your cum!"

After a few more hard thrust, you finally unload into Shuhua's tighthole, shooting one spurt of cum after another. If goddesses can break their vocal cords, Shuhua's going to be the example soon as she moans at the feeling of her asshole being filled up to the brim. You pull out after emptying all your seeds into Shuhua. The mark has faded and the aura is gone. Your mind and body are left exhausted.

But there's no time to rest or cuddle. You have a quest to finish. Leaving the broken goddess on the bed who's still make no other sounds except pants and groans, you rush to the safe where the helmet is kept.

You are neither a burglar nor an engineer but Eros has said it's opened by a spoken password so you try the only option. 'Password' You say the password (yeah, it's cringe) to the orb in the middle. The black ball begins to grow untilit has consumed the whole safe into its surface. Then, the orb splits into four sections, revealing the helmet inside. You must admit, this is a pretty sick way to open a safe.

As soon as you grab the helmet, hundreds of footsteps like a marching army start to echo from beyond the door. After the hearing the clink of armours and weapons, you realize the guards have probably heard the screams of Shuhua.

You go around the room frantically, searching for your clothes. Luckily, Shuhua has left them in a pile on a table and you fish around your jean pockets for the vial in panic. To make things even worse, loud bangs start to reasonate from the door and the chatter of limbs and ribs. You have at least 10 seconds before the army of skeletons crash into the room.

You finally located the vial and remove the cap, pouring the yellow liquid which taste no different from water into your mouth. And that takes up the whole 10 seconds. The door breaks open and the horde of skeleton enter the room and you are still daed, standing there butt naked, holding the helm of Hades.

The guards look confused at first then charge you. You mutter a curse at Eros and before the spear of the first skeleton make contact, every molecules in your body break apart and you dissolve into nothingness.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

Don't ask you how you feel. Because you don't know how to describe it. It would be same with asking someone to describe what nothing feels like. Well....it feels like nothing.

You find yourself on the bed, back in the room at Eros's skyscrapper. Naked but no longer see through and most importantly, alive. Beyond the glass, a light rain drizzles over the casins of Las Vegas. You don't really feel like testing your luck right now.

A chime rings from the bedside table and you turn to find your phone opened. Miraculously, it has no more cracks and looks as good as news. The top of your pink lockscreen (seriously, Eros?) is occupied by a single notification from the 'Ero' app. But this time it's not a quest. The message from Eros leaves you dazzled.

"Welcome back, Michael. Ever dreamed of taking a goddess's virginity?"

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(Yeah, turn out we are fucking gods)

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt. 2)

"You said you're going to ask questions, then can we ask questions?" Superman really tries to be polite here because, first, he was raised by Kents and, second, Jazz and the whole interdimensional police thing looks non-hostile. At least now.

The redhead nods, "Sure, ask away, I'll answer everything I can." Then, she notices Batman reaching to touch the green shield and makes a soft, warning noise, "Ah, sorry, please don't touch it. I can show how it works later, but it's not meant to keep you out. It's to keep everything else in."

Batman reluctantly puts his head down and turns to her.

"Elaborate."

The sci-fi ship in the air makes a loud hissing sound, like compressed air being released, and the bottom part of it slides open. Jazz nods in the direction of the now open ship.

"You know what they say, it's better to see it once than to hear it ten times."

There are three humanoid figures standing in there. All of them are mostly monochrome, black and white clothes, starkling white hair. They look like one adult and two children, but it's one of the kids who raises his hands to his mouth and yells so loud everyone in three miles radius is able to hear him:

"Step away from the shield, please, shit's about to get real!"

None of the heroes move, but Jazz does take a few steps away. Wonder Woman, after a moment of hesitation, follows her example.

A mechanical voice comes from the ship itself, "Countdown to the breach. Five... Four..."

On 'three,' all three of the monochrome figures step out from the ship. But, before any of the heroes have time to worry, they all float in the air, undeterred by gravity, and the ship door closes behind them.

The countdown reaches 'one'. And in the next moment, it looks like the hell breaks loose.

Countless giant vines shoot out from the portal up, reaching for the ship. True to what the red hoverboarder said, they are very much toothy, every vine splitting in two and attempting to bite the ship like some twisted idea of scissors.

None of them reach it.

The oldest of three kids claps his hands, and a wall of raging fire descends on the vines, throwing them off. In the next moment, the trio falls apart, flying through the lovecraftian mess of carnivorous plants with practiced ease, the younger ones using what looks like icicles and little storms.

"Who are they?" Batman asks Jazz, following the youngest one's - the only girl among the three - movements as she creates a strong gust of wind with a wave of her hand. None of the vines or attacks get past the shield, though.

"My siblings," the girl answers, pointing her hand at the oldest one, "That's Dan. He's the most violent. One time, he destroyed our original world, but that timeline doesn't exist anymore." She then points to the girl, "That's Dani, the youngest. She rarely joins the crew lately. And she is actually a clone, but at this point, most of us have been cloned once or twice, so it's not a big deal anymore." She then points her finger to the last one, a boy that flies past them quicker than a lightning, freezing everything he touches, "And this is Danny. He is the most powerful one. Technically, he could have just ended the fight with one Wail, but kids like to have fun. Also, they don't get to show off their elemental powers a lot, so they are mostly being dramatic for you."

She says all this so easily, just like a matter of fact, and it is at this moment that the members of JL realize the sheer power of whoever these people are. When she casually told them she bested Superman, it could have been written as a coincidence, a joke. But this?

Dan growls as one of the vines scratches his shoulder. He bleeds green, but it's only for a second before both the wound and the suit knit themselves back together. This is not just a simple accelerated healing, it almost looks like a miracle.

"Oi, brats, I'm done with show off, get out of the way!" He yells at the other two, and Danny and Dani quickly follow the order, flying closer to him and behind his back.

"Cover your ears," Jazz tells the heroes around her, and puts her helmet back on, as Dan takes a deep breath and screams.

It hurts even those who follow Jazz's advice. Batman feels like his eardrums are about to be shattered for the lack of better word. But the vines like the sonic attack even less - most of them subdue and pull back inside the portal, and the rest is dissipating like they are being burned from the inside out.

And then, just like it began, the scream - the wail - stops. The silence feels deafening after the end of it, but slowly, the sounds return, and the JL watches Danny flying down to the center of the portal. He puts his hands on the surface of it, and for a long moment, nothing happens.

And then the Pit starts closing up.

Or, no, it is Danny who absorbs it, the green flowing up through his hands, his veins that start glowing the same green. His eyes become the same toxic color, with no whites and no irises, just glowing green all over, and his hair shimmers like stars.

A few minutes later, the portal is gone, like it never even existed, and Danny plants his feet on the ground and stretches, like one would do after a good rest.

"Oof, that was nice!" He turns to the other two, who are still up in the air, "Do you want some?"

Dan flips him off before going back to the ship, but Dani floats down to him and extends her hands out.

"Sure. I like getting it from you better than from the portal itself anyway. Gives it a sparkling taste, like Sprite," she chuckles. Danny takes her hands in his, and the green glow slowly makes its way through their joined palms, now flowing through the girl’s body.

"What are they?" Flash whispers, horrified, but Jazz hears it nonetheless and turns her head to him, taking her helmet off once again.

"That is not a very appropriate question," she chastises and smiles at their faces, "But it's okay, I get it. They are ghosts. Or ectoplasmic entities, or halfas, or highly liminal beings. Or, if you want a very simplified version, they are dead kids who are enjoying their afterlife a little too much."

"Dead?" Batman zeros on the word, snapping his eyes at the girl. She smiles, and for the first time, it doesn't look human. Her teeth are too sharp, her grin too wide, and her eyes are suddenly not just teal, but neon bright and glowing, with vertical irises.

"Most of us are dead in one way or another. And I do not mean it in a metaphorical sense."

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

What I'm thinking is they have a whole system going on. Amity Park generally resides in the Realms, but from time to time, they decide they want to go on a vacation, as a whole town, and they pop into existence on one of the Earths. They don't really care for the universe or dimension they end up in, as long as it is more or less peaceful (as in, no active wars going on right where they pop up), has sunlight and nice weather.

The GIW is taking care of legal things - imagine US government reaction when a whole ass town just boom, starts existing in a place where nothing existed before? So GIW does all the paperwork and discussions. Also, they are doing their basic research on the dimension they end up in, for science purposes.

I'm thinking Vlad is still a mayor of Amity. And sometimes, when a particular dimension is rather annoying, he straight up possesses the authorities because he hates official talks and couldn't care less for morals if he tried for a week. The GIW scolds him, but don't really say no. It's not a good solution to the problem, but hey, it works.

Meanwhile, Fentons are doing ectoplasmic research. They scan the dimension for troubles, basically, looking for natural portals and ghosts causing ruckus. Jazz is almost always the one who does the talking to the heroes native to the dimension - she is the one who has the most patience and social skills. Jack is in charge of transportation and Maddie is the head of biological, ecto-biological and other species research. Tucker is the tech specialist, of course - he is the sole reason why Amity has wi-fi wherever they go. Val and her father are, kind of, protectors? Security? But for the whole town, yeah. They do have GIW agents as subordinates.

Dani is not always living in Amity, she travels the Realms most of the time, but she joins when something interesting happens. Dan is, like, on an eternal probation period, GIW and Fentons keep an eye on him, but he is one of the heavy hitters for when shit goes down.

Danny is living his best life, he is mainly the protector spirit of Amity, but he also gets to protect all the dimensions from ghosts! He helps anyone and everyone - one day he is working with Val on defenses for their main ship they use to travel inside dimensions, and the next day he is joining Maddie in her studies of new species found.

Oh, I forgot Sam. She is probably the one responsible for the magic stuff - mostly everyone else focuses on scientific aspects, but she is the one to research on occult things.

| <- prev | next -> |

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

In Sunday's chapter the madame mentioned that Aemond brought girls from the brothel to the fortress for his pleasure, you could make the reader one of those girls but she is a virgin and it is her first job

This took so long to write, but I was so invested in the story that it almost got to 3k...oops. I hope you enjoy this Aemond smut <3

Warnings: 18+, smut, virgin!reader, (brief) mention of child prostitution, prostitution, oral (m receiving), p + v

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

As soon as you stepped into the pleasure house for the night, Madam Sylvi collected you. She had been waiting for you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed her to the back saloon, fearing the worst. You wondered if there had been a complaint from a customer and if you were about to be fired.

‘’Scrub your body with a sponge and change into this,’’  she said, handing you a muted blue dress that tied at your neck. ‘’You will be working outside the house tonight.’’ 

You frowned, confusion washing over you. ‘’Outside the house?’’ you repeated. 

Whoever this customer was, he must be paying the Madam a lot of gold pieces to have girls brought to him because when you got hired, the Madam was clear about not going home with the customers. It was strictly forbidden. 

She nodded. ‘’A special customer. He used to come here regularly, but after a recent event, he now requests to have girls brought to him. It minimizes the risks of indiscretion.’’

You swallowed hard. You had been working at the pleasure house for a week and were only doing smaller services. A nervous feeling bubbled in your stomach. You knew that one day you would be required to expand your services, but you didn’t think it would be outside the safety of the house. What if this customer was violent with you? 

Madam Sylvi gave you a soft, reassuring smile. ‘’Worry not, child. I trust this customer to take good care of my girls. You will be well-paid and well-fed.’’

Once you were ready, you and two other girls were escorted to the gates of the Red Keep. A guard in armor was waiting for you, and walked you in silence through the winding corridors of the castle that you had never seen before. You kept your gaze low and walked quickly, intimidated by the impressive beauty of the keep and the royal quarters.

The guard stopped in front of two large doors. He knocked, and waited for a moment. One of the doors opened and a man ushered the three of you into the room. His hair was dark, not white. He must be at the service of a figure of the crown.

‘’Stand in line for the Prince Regent,’’ the man said.

The Prince Regent? The name sent a shiver down your spine. You had heard whispers about him, but never saw him in person. Like all Targaryen men, he must be of an alluring beauty. 

The door opened again and you all straightened your posture as Prince Aemond walked in. He was tall and dressed head to toe in black leather. An impressive sword was sheathed on one hip, a dagger on the other. He looked imposing, fierce, and insanely beautiful. 

‘’The girls have arrived, Your Grace. The Madam has sent her finest ones.’’ 

Aemond glanced at the three of you, standing in the middle of the room in your light dresses. ‘’Thank you, Ser Phillip. I will see for myself.’’ 

He moved past the first one, too plain faced for his liking. The girl was hurt by Prince Aemond’s rejection, but she tried to conceal it. You wanted to tell her that she looked good regardless of what the prince thought, but decided against it. You’ll offer her comfort later. Maybe you’ll both need it. 

The second one had large green eyes and nipples so dark you could see them through the thin fabric of her dress. Aemond glanced up and down, and then spoke in a monotone voice. ‘’Turn around.’’

The girl complied, and turned around on the spot. Aemond circled her, like a shark circling its prey. He was cold. Completely emotionless. He reached out to touch her, feeling the smoothness of her skin, looking for imperfections. 

‘’How lovely is she?’’ he said to Ser Phillip. 

‘’Very lovely, Your Grace.’’ 

Aemond pulled the tie of her dress behind her neck, causing the blue fabric to fall and pool down at her feet. The girl gasped softly, not expecting the prince to disrobe her. He reached to grab one of her breasts, her tan skin contrasting with his. 

‘’Do you like my breasts, my Prince?’’ the girl asked, a little too confident that he would pick her.  

‘’Not really.’’ Aemond retracted his hand. 

The girl’s face fell, but he didn’t care. 

He slowly walked towards you. You were terrified. Aemond had been quick to dismiss the two other girls. You didn’t notice any major flaws on either of them. He was extremely picky, or he was looking for something specific.

You tensed under his gaze, his single eye watching you like a cat with his prey. He studied your curves, your face. He took you in slowly. He seemed to like what he saw, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up like the last girl. 

‘’Turn around,’’ he commanded.

You obeyed, turning around slowly. He took in your backside, the shape of your hips. Unlike other girls at the pleasure house, you weren't gifted in the hips area, but Aemond didn't seem to dislike it. He reached out to touch the skin on your lower back. His fingers were long and elegant, and surprisingly gentle. He caressed up your back, pulling your hair to the side with his other hand so he could carry on to your neck. His touch sent shivers through your body. You felt like prey in a cage, and he was the hunter.

Your shoulders trembled slightly, and Aemond noticed. ‘’You look scared, little one,’’ he whispered.

‘’I’m sorry, my Prince— I mean, Your Grace.’’ You bit your cheek, cursing yourself. 

Technically, your title was not wrong, Aemond was still a prince. However, as he was acting as the regent in the stead of King Aegon, ‘Your Grace’ was more appropriate.

Behind you, Aemond smirked. He enjoyed the effect he had on you. ‘’Take the others and leave us,’’ he ordered Ser Phillip. ‘’Use them for yourself if you wish. I care not.’’ 

The man bowed his head and took the two other girls out of the room, leaving you alone with the prince. 

 Once the door closed behind Ser Phillip, Aemond stepped closer to you and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. ‘’You are a sight for sore eyes,'' he whispered, his one eye looking at yours.

His words left you flushed and stunned. You have been called beautiful in many degrading ways since working at the pleasure house. It was nice to hear true compliments. 

‘’I was disappointed with the Madam's girls tonight. All plain faced and overused. I remember my brother wetting his cock in the first one when I was a lad.’’

She didn't seem older than eight and ten, she must have been very young when she started working at Madam Sylvi's. 

''But you,'' Aemond said, letting go of your hand to lift your chin and gently force you to look up, still holding his gaze. 

You were so captivated by the prince's piercing eye that you didn't notice Aemond moving closer. His hand, firm and deliberate, slipped behind your neck, deftly tugging at the tie that held your dress in place. Before you realized what was happening, your dress slipped down your body, pooling silently at your feet, just as it had with the second girl moments before. 

The sudden chill of the room made you shiver, a cool breeze from the large windows brushing against your now-exposed skin.

Aemond ghosted a hand down your neck and over the goosebumps of your chest, watching your nipples turning into peaks invitingly. ‘’You must be a delight to fuck.’’ His palms covered your breasts, weighing them in his hand, kneading them.

‘’I…I would not know. I’ve never laid with a man.’’

Aemond raised a brow at your admission. ‘’Never?’’

‘’Never.’’

‘’How is it possible?’’ he asked. ‘’You work at Madam Sylvi’s pleasure house.’’

‘’I’ve only worked there as of recently. I used to be a baker, but with the False Queen’s blockade, we no longer get food in the city. The place was forced to shut down.’’

You were brief in your explanation, not wanting to bother him with smallfolk problems. It’s not what you were here for. The Madam warned all her girls about speaking of your private life to customers. 

‘’I apologize on the behalf of the crown, although my half-sister is to blame.’’ 

You gave him a nod, accepting his insincere apologies. He was probably taught to speak courtly and politically. ‘’That is kind of you, Your Grace, but I am not here to lament about the smallfolk’s misery.’’ You batted your best innocent eyes. ‘’What does the Prince wishes me to do?’’

Aemond brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. ''Get on your knees and that sweet mouth open wide.'' 

You knelt down and looked back up at him, waiting for another command. He took his time removing his sword belt and unbuckling his leather doublet. You pleasantly took awareness of the absence of a tunic under. 

He reached to unlace his breeches, pulling them down to his thighs and revealing his heavy, half-stiff cock. It was long and thick enough to make a tear drop between your legs. 

''Open wide, little bird,'' Aemond commanded, jerking himself to full hardness before feeding his cock to your awaiting mouth.

You wrapped your lips around him, bobbing down a few times to get him wet and slippery before grasping the bottom of his shaft and swiping your tongue over the slit at the head. Everytime you did this, the customers would moan loudly. 

But it didn't have the same effect on the prince. He stiffened, his jaw clenching, and pushed you down his cock by the back of your head. You were under his command tonight. You'll do what he wants. 

You continued bobbing your head up and down his length slowly as drool slipped past your lips and down his throbbing cock. The image was filthy and beautiful at the same time. You took him deeper, causing him to twitch in your mouth, and stopped before it hit the back of your throat. A quiet moan escaped your lips, his grip in your hair tightening. 

He released into your mouth with long spurts and quiet groans. You tried to swallow all he was giving you, but some ended up dripping down your chin and to your chest, painting your breasts with drops of thick white royal seeds. 

When he was finished, you pulled back and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.  ‘’What does His Grace wishes now?’’ you asked, looking up at him, waiting for his next instruction. 

He motioned for you to stand, a smirk tugging at his lips when he saw his seed on your body. He reached out and smeared it over your nipples. ''Go to my bed and wait for me.''

You nodded and walked across the large room, perceiving the bed in the distance. The sigils of House Targaryen were embroidered on the tapestries behind the headboard. You stared at it for a moment, then heard some shuffling, letting you know Aemond was approaching. 

Quickly, you hopped on the large bed and sat in the middle. 

Your jaw almost dropped when you saw him coming at you, fully naked. He was lean, but not too skinny, his muscles rippling over his body with every move. His chest was pale, and completely bare. 

Everyone says Targaryens are closer to gods than to men. You've never been a believer, but, with a body like his, Aemond Targaryen must have been crafted by the gods.

You tore your gaze away, looking down at your lap. ‘’I did not know how you wanted me…’’ you said, fiddling with your fingers.

Aemond lifted your chin. ‘’That’s alright. I’ll guide you.’’

He pushed you back against the sheets and settled between your legs. His hands felt along your skin, leaving more goosebumps behind. Except this time it wasn't because of the cool wind, but Aemond's simple touch. 

The prince looked down at you; rosy cheeks, bouncy breasts and soft thighs with enough meat to grab. He kissed between your breasts, and continued down your stomach and hips, pulling soft sighs from you as he got closer to your cunt. 

Was he like this with every girl that came to the Red Keep? 

Your question died on your tongue as his thumb pressed delicately against your clit. No customers had ever succeeded in finding it, forcing you to fake pleasure when they fumbled around. You pushed back against his thumb, wanting him to do it again. Aemond obliged, moving in motions you had never tried in the privacy of your bed before.

It was not allowed to kiss, but you didn't protest when his mouth crashed on yours. Your hand found way to his jaw, pulling him closer as he kissed you slowly. You were so enthralled by his lips that you barely noticed the two fingers that ran through your folds, prodding at your tight entrance.

You felt a slight uncomfortableness when his fingers slipped inside, your walls clenching around his digits. With how tight you felt, Aemond was looking forward to sinking his cock and pound into you. 

After a moment, he pulled you knees up, and a loud gasp escaped your mouth, your eyes squeezed shut suddenly as you felt him slowly pushing his cock deep into your walls. Your hands clenched in his hair and clawed at his hard chest, feeling like you were being teared open from the inside. 

You whimpered from the pain and scrunched your face, but Aemond didn't withdraw or pause. He continued pushing into you until he was buried to the hilt, causing you to gasp with wide eyes when you felt him hit something deep within you. 

He looked down at you, softly grazing your cheek with his thumb, then pulled out, watching your expression when he thrusted back in. His movements were steady and slow, getting you used to all the new sensations going through your body. He remembered when he was a young boy, his first time laying with a woman was a lot.

Aemond leaned down to kiss your neck, one hand still holding your knee up while his other grabbed one of your breasts, rolling your peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. You moaned under him, praising his name and clenching around him as you snaked your arms around his shoulders, needing to anchor yourself. 

It was a pleasant change from what he did with the other girls, but slow sex was a dangerous zone. 

When it became too emotional for him, the prince moved you on your side and took you from behind. He did not let you time to speak before he hammered his hips into you, his heavy balls loudly smacking against your ass every time. The new position had you gripping the sheets, feeling something burning in your lower stomach as he picked up speed with his hips, going faster and deeper until you both reached the edge and your orgasm erupted. 

You made a sound as Aemond pulled out of you, but didn't move. You couldn’t. Your thighs were still shaking from your orgasm and your head was dizzy. So you looked up at the ceiling until your body recovered. 

You didn’t know how many hours had passed since you arrived at the castle, but you were completely exhausted. You will have to walk back to the city soon…unless the prince wanted to fuck you again. A smile curled on your face. You had sex with a Targaryen prince. Better. The Prince Regent had taken your maidenhood.  

Your thoughts got interrupted when Aemond rolled off the bed and stood. He grabbed a black silk robe with dark blue embroideries, and covered his naked body. 

‘’Come,’’ he said without looking back at you.

You followed him through the room, feeling his seed dripping down your inner thigh and leg. You should be embarrassed, but you secretly liked it. 

You stopped in your tracks when you saw a table with a whole feast set up. It was not there when you arrived in the room, meaning someone must have come in while you and the prince were— Red crept to your cheeks, mortified. 

You had not heard the door being opened nor the servants coming in with the food. There was lamb, mince pies, and even honey cakes. Madam Sylvi had not lied when she said you would be well taken care of. 

‘’Help yourself,’’ Aemond said, holding a small honey cake between his fingers. ‘’I assume you have not dined.’’ 

Your stomach was famished. You had been surviving on thinned soup and fish for weeks. The meat and the honey cakes made your mouth water. You missed the sweetness of pastries. 

You took a plate, but before you could start filling it with food, Aemond spoke. 

‘’The tea in the cup is obligatory. To…avoid unwanted bastards,’’ he explained, his eye pointing to a dark cup containing moontea brewed by the maester.

—

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[pricelessemotion]

poltergeists for sidekicks | E.M.

summary: [2.3k] the kids drag eddie to the halloween store where you happen to work.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, pining, eddie being a lovestruck idiot, r wears big prescription glasses and is described as having messy hair

a/n: happy halloween! here’s something i’ve been working on for ages just in time for the end of spooky szn! xoxo

masterlist

Eddie doesn’t hate Halloween. 

He used to love Halloween. He likes autumn. He likes watching the leaves change colors. He can appreciate the novelty of a hot apple cider and a hay ride. Hell, ever since he was old enough to go trick or treating, he reveled in it. Free candy and all he had to do was put on a costume and say three magic words? Sign him up. 

As he got older, he started to like Halloween for a slightly different reason. Don’t get him wrong, he still liked the free candy, but he liked the excuse to be someone else for a night. He liked how he could throw on a Michael Meyers mask and go door-to-door and be greeted with glee and sweets. 

It does a funny thing to a kid’s self-esteem, being treated better when he’s wearing the face of a fictional serial killer. 

Now, though, Eddie Munson is decidedly too old for trick or treating. He’s resigned himself to spending the holiday like it was any other day by spending the night in his room, playing guitar, and coming up with new campaign ideas. 

Which is exactly what he was doing when three freshmen started pounding down the door of the trailer demanding entry. Within moments, they are practically on their hands and knees asking, nay begging, for the older boy to take them to get last-minute Halloween costumes.

“Aren’t you guys too old to go trick or treating?”

“This is why we need to go to the store! If we wear masks, no one will be able to tell how old we are, hence extending our years of candy collecting.” Dustin explains, matter of factly.  

Eddie sighs, leaning back into the sofa, steepling his fingers together. “What’s in it for me?”

The three boys huddle together, conspiring in a manner that is not dissimilar to the way they plan their counterstrikes during Hellfire. They nod in sync, turning around so that Lucas is standing front and center, flanked by the two other boys.  

“That one girl you like is working there.”

Eddie remains stone-faced, quipping sarcastically, “That’s very specific.”

Mike lets out an exasperated groan, threading his fingers through his hair before yanking at the ends in frustration. “Y’know, the weird one. Coke bottle glasses, messy hair, always holding a book?”

Lucas’ eyes widen. Dustin smacks Mike on the chest and the hollow sound rings out through the empty trailer. They all start talking over each other, with two of them berating the third for A. being insensitive and B. expecting a good outcome from said insensitivity. 

Eddie wants to make a comment that your hair is not messy, it’s actually more voluminous. Besides, his hair is messy and he likes to think it makes him look badass. The glasses comment was a little unfair. Sure, the frames are a similar shade to the iconic green of the bottles of Coca-Cola. But the magnification was endearing, leaning more towards doe-eyed than bug. Unfortunately, Eddie did not consider that while he was observing you, someone might’ve been observing him. 

The assurance of your presence is how Eddie ends up here, parked outside of a hardware store turned seasonal shop. He’s helping his friends. He’s supporting a local business and therefore contributing to the local economy! You being here is just a bonus.

A bell rings above them as he swings open the door, the motion setting off a scratchy pre-recorded cackle. He’s gotta hand it to whoever is running the store. They’ve gone out of their way to transform the dingy overhead fluorescents and worn-out linoleum into something that actually resembles an eerie boutique. 

“Welcome in! I’ll be right witch you!” Your voice lilts out from the depths. 

You appear out of the darkness, expertly weaving under fake cobwebs and pushing aside fanciful drapes that have no doubt been strung up precariously around the store to add to the ambiance. You’ve got a witch’s hat on, tall and black and pointy, which further explains the pun you greeted them with. 

“How can I help you?” You smile brightly, adjusting your glasses. 

The younger boys barely spare you a glance, just a chorus of we’re good! before running off to the other side of the store, where all of the costumes are located. 

You barely blink at their rudeness. Whether that’s indicative of your experience in customer service or due to your generally sunny disposition, Eddie isn’t sure. You turn your smile and magnified gaze at him, “What about you?”

Eddie startles only slightly. He begins to peek over his shoulder as if there’s somebody else in the mostly deserted store that you could be talking to. What about him?

“Oh, I don’t need anything. I just came here with–” He gestures vaguely in the direction that the boys wandered off to. “The little shits that left me in the dust.” 

You bark out a laugh, a small smile settling on your lips. “It’s sweet of you to help them out.”

Eddie only blushes in response, murmuring a quiet it’s nothing, scratching the back of his neck like he might find a switch that’ll make him remember how to talk like a normal human being.   

“Well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

You pick up a clipboard and a pen and start leisurely strolling down the decor aisle, making inconsequential markings on the paper. Whenever you come across gaps in the shelves you reach back into them, pulling the products to the front edge with a concentration that is quite adorable. 

He’s definitely staring by now. Feigning interest in a skull-shaped candy bowl, Eddie scrambles for something, anything to keep the conversation going. “I’m surprised you’re not busier.”

“You just missed the afternoon rush.” You say, straightening a pair of plastic tarantulas that have gone askew. “Not too many people came today, though. I guess they realized that it’s so close to the holiday that the shelves would be picked over.”

“Really?”

You shrug, “I think by October 30th, most people figure if they’re gonna dress up, they’d rather just pull together something from their closets than spend money. We’re actually busier the day after Halloween because everything gets marked down and people want cheap candy.”

“Makes sense.” He nods. “So, I take it you’re a big fan of Halloween?”

Your smile is apprehensive as if you’re not sure if he’s making fun of you. Your fingers brush the brim of the witch’s hat. “What gave me away?” 

He falls into step beside you, clasping his hands behind his back and puffing out his chest. “I just had a feeling.” Then, feeling much braver than usual, he adds, “I like your outfit.”

You look at him again, clutching the clipboard to your chest. For once, your eyes are leaning more towards bug-eyed. The black velvet dress has draped sleeves and a skirt that swishes with every step. Orange and black striped tights protect your legs from the inevitable chill that comes with October in Indiana. “You do?” 

“I do.” He insists, “It totally adds to the magical vibe. If you told me that you were an actual witch and this was just something you do to pass the time I’d one hundred percent believe you.” 

All apprehension has slipped off your face, replaced by a genuine smile that cracks open his chest. “Thanks…” You trail off.

“Eddie.” He supplies. 

“Well thank you, Eddie. I’d tell you my name but I’m guessing I don’t have to.” You say, rubbing the plastic name plate on your chest. 

Eddie does know your name, but it isn’t because of your name tag. He was far too proud to ask around for your name, and far too afraid of rejection to ask you himself. He’d been lucky enough to get a library book right after you. He’d pulled the weathered paper from the slip, seen your name at the bottom of the checkout card, traced the loopy letters with the pad of his fingers. It had definitely been more than a little pathetic. 

Eddie coughs, clearing his throat, trying to maintain any semblance of nonchalance. “Do you have any plans for Halloween?” 

Your face slowly lifts from the clipboard, twirling your pen between swift fingers polished in a deep burgundy. Directing your gaze at him, you peer through dark lashes and Eddie’s never been more thankful for the inventor of coke bottle glasses. The magnification allows him to see the spark of intrigue dancing across your pupils. 

“I was just gonna stay home. Maybe help my mom pass out candy.” The implication of the last sentence seems to hit you. You look down again, scrunching up your nose. Eddie finds it endearing how your first instinct is honesty rather than anything else. 

“Cool. That’s cool,” Eddie says in a manner that is decidedly uncool. He fiddles with his rings before shoving his hands into his pockets. “Actually, I was wondering if—” 

Suddenly, Eddie feels stupid for getting lost in your eyes and not paying attention to his surroundings. Maybe then he would’ve noticed how the linoleum got ever so slightly softer under the soles of worn-out boots. He would’ve seen the cloaked figure looming in the alcove, waiting for some unwitting soul to step on the pressure plate.

Unfortunately, Eddie did not see any of those things. The poltergeist, or ghost, or whatever the fuck it is swings out. He stumbles backward, releasing a shriek that is so high-pitched, that he wonders if he should start tapping into his upper range. Maybe it would add more texture to Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night sets. 

Instinctively, his arms fly backward, as if to protect you. He stumbles right into you, and he’s sure that if you didn’t grab his waist from behind, you would’ve fallen right over. Unfortunately, the movement has both of you careening back into a shelf, sending bags of overpriced candy and shitty Halloween decorations tumbling to the ground in a cascade of all things creepy and corny. He quickly spins around.

“Shit, are you–”

“I’m so sorry!” 

“I should’ve warned you–”

At that moment, chests heaving and hearts racing, you both seem to realize that your hands are still grazing Eddie’s waist. You spring apart, scrambling to clean up the display, haphazardly grabbing the fallen items and placing them back in their rightful places on the shelves. Among them is your hat, another casualty of the calamity. 

“I should’ve warned you,” You say again, slightly out of breath. “That thing nearly scares me to death every other day.” 

“It’s fine. I should’ve paid attention to where I was walking. It just added to the whole spooktacular experience.” He picks up the hat from the floor, dusting it off. “I think this belongs to you.” 

You give a bashful smile, but instead of putting the accessory in your outstretched hand, he gingerly places it on top of your head. Your glasses have slid down your nose from bending over to clean up his mess, and his thumbs gently push the joints of the frames until they’re sitting in their rightful place. 

“There,” He punctuates his statement with a resolute tug on your hat, making sure it’s securely on your head. “Perfect.”

You preen at him, eyes sparkling, before you cast them down at the floor. Dustin comes running around the corner, closely followed by Mike and Lucas. All of them are carrying armfuls of miscellaneous Halloween supplies, obviously alarmed at the clamor, but not alarmed enough that they didn’t take their sweet time coming from the opposite end of the store. Eddie takes advantage of your bashfulness and distinctly shoots them a look that says get the hell out of here. Dustin’s eyes dart between the two of you before they widen and his mouth forms a small oh. He sends Eddie an exaggerated wink, walking backward in order to not interrupt the private moment, dragging his two friends along with him.

“Thanks,” You smile at him. “For protecting me. I know who to bring with me if I ever want to walk through a haunted house.” 

He gives a lopsided grin, “My pleasure.”

“Ahem.” You clear your throat, “Anyways, what are your plans for Halloween?”

This is it. This is the moment that Eddie has been waiting for since he put down his guitar and his notebook and opened the trailer door. 

“That depends.” He clasps his hands behind his back, jutting his chin up in the air. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I get off at four.” 

“The Hawk is doing this continuous horror movie marathon. Maybe you would want to go?” Eddie’s fingers are practically vibrating with excitement. He nearly forgets the most important part. “With me? I mean— Only if you like horror movies, I just figured because I’ve seen you walking around with that Stephen King novel. NOT that I’ve been watching you or anything!”

You let out a small giggle. The fact that you’re laughing and smiling is a good sign, even if it is slightly at his expense. He decides to lean into self-deprecation, hoping it’ll seem more charming than desperate. 

“I’d say I don’t scare easily, but I think we’d both know that’s a lie by now.”

You scribble something near the bottom of the paper on the clipboard, delicately folding it and ripping it off before placing it in Eddie’s palm. 

“Well, I’ve heard horror movies are less scary if you have someone to hold your hand.”

It doesn’t even matter that a ghost animatronic essentially acted as his wingman. The note with your number on it sits heavily in his pocket, thumb tracing over looped ink. Even though it’s cold as shit, he embarrassed himself, and signs of the spooky season decorate every corner, Eddie has a smile that rivals even the best of jack-o-lanterns. 

As Eddie turns off towards the dirt path that leads to Forrest Hills Trailer Park, the smile still hasn’t faded. 

For once, the streets of Hawkins seem a little less haunted. 

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[jarofstyles]

For fluffy requests: how about harry and yn both had a super long hard week, and they spend friday night getting high together? or drunk/tipsy. I just love intox handsy harry so much.

Absolutely!!! I love mushy H so much.

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Warnings- they’re high, weed mention, cute as hell

——-

“Christ.” She heard the whisper as she looked over from her phone to the man approaching her. He’d gone to go grab some chips, but it was evident that he’d been distracted the moment he walked back into the room.

“What?” The word was laughed under her breath as she tilted her head up properly to watch as he placed the bowl of chips down, getting on his knees in front of her. “Oh- hello?” Large hands pawed at her knees, pulling them apart as he wiggled his way to kneel between them. “What’s goin’ on?”

Harry’s mind was an interesting place that she liked to explore, but when he was high she couldn’t anticipate what he would do or say. It was exciting, in a way, because some of his funniest moments or revelations appeared from this exact scenarios. His eyes were slightly bloodshot as they looked over her face in awe, the bated silence making her raise a questioning brow at him.

“Just…” he licked his bottom lip, sliding his hands up over her thighs. The lack of pants seemed to please him, skin to skin contact making him lean further into her space. “Don’t think you know how much I love you. Didn’t think I could love you more, n’then bam!” He widened his eyes, making her jump at the sudden loudness of the word. “Walked in here and like… swear, my heart grew. Like the grinch or… Oscar the grouch? Whoever the fuck, they’re both fuzzy, green and grouchy, but. It hit me in the stomach and it’s like…. You’re my girl. Call yourself my girlfriend t’everyone. You’re wearing my fuckin’ shirt!”

Like it was the greatest honor of all time, he preened at the vision of her in front of him. One hand slipped under the shirt to grasp her tummy while the other grabbed her hand, pulling it to lay flat on his chest. “See? My heart kicked up a storm as soon as you touch me. S’fucking crazy. You don’t even know that it does this all the time too.” If he wasn’t being so earnest, Y/N would have giggled at how amazed he was at the concept of love. It was stupidly endearing.

“I love you too, baby.” She whispered, putting her phone down so she could hold his face in her other hand. He was right- his heart was thudding hard against her palm. “Thank you for telling me. Are you… what are you doing?”

While she stroked his cheek he had shuffled forward, wrapping his arm around her back and pulling her into his body. Her at the edge of the couch and him grabbing her other hand to put it in his hair before lifting her shirt up and ducking under it. “Woah! What’re y’doing, crazy man?”

“Need t’be closer to your heart.” He mumbled, lips pressing against her chest. It was entirely chaste and she could feel the intention before his cheek pressed against it. Her hand migrated from his chest to behind his neck, the position slightly odd but incredibly sweet. Surely his knees had to be sore from the hardwood but he didn’t care, nuzzling into her as he whispered to her.

“Love your heart. Gonna take care of it like y’take care of me, n’we’re gonna have a nice lil’ life just gettin’ to grow out love for each other. Gonna make you some good food later so you’re all nourished and then we’ll take a shower, but I think I wanna take a nap here.” He sighed, eyes shut as she gently massaged the back of his neck.

“Well… if you want to nap, that’s okay, but you need to get up here. You can’t nap on your knees, baby.”

“Shh. Jus’ for a little bit. Promise, mama. M’fine. Just don’t move n’keep doing that thing on my neck. If I was in a different mood that could probably make me nut, if m’honest.”

“Oooookay. Shh. Go to sleep.” She snorted, wondering how much more he’d have smoked when she wasn’t looking to get to this state.

“Kay. Love you so much, mama. You’re my entire world n’if I dream, it’ll probably be about you. It always is.”