#<- that is my talking tag but trying to think of a music themed tag for my fics

[max-nico]

Sonic has been called an "overprotective big brother" over the years many times. Not his fault that Tails is small, impressionable, and reckless. He's known the kid since he was a toddler, if anyone else had been around that long they would understand too.

Or at least he thought they would, but it seems he was wrong because his own two best friends–Amy and Knuckles–are the ones who call him overprotective the most. This is a huge betrayal on their part, especially when they bring up valid points like Tails' intelligence and skill, because how could he disagree. Sonic has the coolest, most awesome and amazing, little brother ever. 

With that being said, Sonic is pretty sure he has the right to interrogate the little fox this time. He's like 90% sure his panic is warranted when he sees his little brother load and cock a very real and deadly gun. Because that kid is 9. He is 9, and he is putting on his watch and his plane gear to leave, and for some reason he needs a weapon wherever he's going. Sonic thinks he has a right to exercise at least a little big brother privilege here, honestly it would be negligent to not at least question him. 

"Hey bud. Whatcha up to?"

Tails' ear flicks toward him as he packs a few things into the Tornado. "You remember that hard drive that GUN thought they stole from me, but I actually knew they wanted it so I lowered a few of my defense systems so that they could grab it and leave me alone?"

The answer is no, Sonic has no recollection of that happening at all. Though he supposes it's his own fault for only half listening when Tails was talking. He's really gotta break that habit.

"Sure do." Sonic lies.

"Well, I actually have a little bit of data on there that I forgot to back up to another hard drive since I didn't think I needed it, so I'm going to go get it."

"And you need a weapon for that? Why don't you just ask Shadow?"

Tails finally turns to face Sonic, floating down off the Tornado and in front of Sonic. He stands with his hands on his hips, leaning just a little into his personal space. He takes the chance to absentmindedly scratch behind his little brother's ears, making him push his head into his hand.

"I did, actually. He's the one who told me to bring some weapons, he said he wants to help me improve my stealth techniques."

"Huh, and he didn't even bother to text me about it." Sonic huffs. It comes out playfully, but he won't deny being a little peeved that Shadow didn't message him. Tails is a genius and can make his own decisions, sure, but he's also not even in double digits. Sonic is literally his guardian, he feels like he should've been consulted about this. "I find that quite rude."

Tails smacks Sonic with one of his tails. The fur gets trapped in the small quills on his face, which makes his brother giggle.

"Then how do you find that, hm?"

"I find that the person who did it has another thing coming."

Sonic is so gonna fill his pillows with quills and shaving cream again. The fox constantly complains about not being able to get his quills out of any furniture, but he also got his fur stuck on Sonic's face, he figures this is pretty good retribution.

"Sure I do."

This is what Sonic means. Where did his wholesome brother go? Ignoring the fact that he has been a little menace since they first met, this is obviously team Dark's fault. Their devious ways are corrupting his little brother, who has obviously only learned nice things from him, like dad jokes and spindashing.

Tails has been constantly hanging out with team Dark for a few months now. After spending time with Rouge on Amy's last birthday he seemed to acquire a sort of childish fascination with them. Honestly, Sonic didn't really see it as a bad thing at first. They got Tails to spend more time out of his lab, and they always seemed to take care of him so Sonic had no qualms as long as Tails was having fun.

Then the habits came. Habits that Sonic had managed to completely purge a couple years back. Sure, he's not building bombs willy nilly anymore (as far as he knows anyway), but a few weeks ago Tails showed him the Empire nuclear launch codes just because he could.

Just yesterday they were having a conversation about a grocery store in station square. Amy had apparently told him that the cashier was kind of rude, so he asked if she wanted him to "blow up the entire store". She laughed and said no thanks, but when Sonic just shook his head at him Tails had the audacity to say "he'll make sure there's no one in it", as if that was the problem with what he said.

Sonic will not claim to have clean hands. He will not say he's never killed anybody on purpose or on accident, but is it so much to want to spare his brother from the same fate? Sonic still has nightmares over things like that, and even if his little brother is joking, he just can't find it in himself to laugh.

It's obvious Sonic will have to talk to Shadow and Rouge soon, he would talk to Omega as well but the robot honestly just does whatever he wants. Sonic can respect it. He cannot, however, respect Shadow and Rouge teaching his kid brother bad stuff, like how to get away with murder and other things of the like.

"I'll be back before you know it, Sonic, I swear!"

It's obvious Sonic has just missed most of the one sided conversation Tails was just having with him, he zoned out again. Damn it.

"And I'll have my communicator on me so if anything goes wrong, you'll be the first to know! I'll stay safe, Shadow will be with me."

Tails says that as if it's any comfort to Sonic. He may trust Shadow with his life but he does not trust him with children. He's sure Tails will come out physically unscathed, but mentally? This is going to be a trainwreck.

Sonic sighs. He already knows he won't be able to convince him not to go, at least not in the small timeframe he has, so he just pulls the kid in for a hug instead. "Call me as soon as you're able, okay?"

"I will, promise!"

"And if you're not back and not answering in 24 hours, I'm coming to find you myself."

"Yes, Sonic." Tails says, pulling away.

"And I'll give Shadow a piece of my mind if I have to, you know I will."

"I'm leaving now."

"And so will Knuckles and Amy!"

"Goodbye!"

"Remember what I said about calling!"

"I can't hear you anymore!"

Sonic smiles as Tails starts his plane, the kid will be fine, he knows it. After all, he's sure Shadow and Rouge know the consequences if he's not.

woe, the brothers be upon ye I wrote this in like two sittings and its barely been edited, I'll probably put this on ao3 later after I've looked at it again lol. you're welcome to hit me up in my dms or askbox, but if it's a request I would prefer my ask box lol. Remember you have to be nice to me forever and ever and ever if you decide to talk to me btw

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #shadow the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction #sonic fic #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #wsatw #sonic and tails #sonic #tails and sonic #tails #tails the fox #sonic and shadow #team dark #i have the mic #<- that is my talking tag but trying to think of a music themed tag for my fics #you're welcome to give me ideas if you have em #this is adhd sonic the hedgehog propaganda btw #posting things to tumblr gives me stomach ache but here I am stomach ache and all

[thepastdied]

No Filter

eddie munson x fem!reader FLUFF

18+ because some sexual themes. Overall, just fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Eddie is drunk and whiny because he's jealous of Steve. Not my gif. Would have tagged if I knew.

part 2 out now

A heavy arm clad in leather slumped around your shoulders.

You turned your head and were met with your alcohol reeking best friend, Eddie.

"Well helllllloo there, pretty girl. Come here often?" He winked at you, eyes hazy and body swaying.

"Eddie, this is my house." You laughed through your nose and wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

Music thumped throughout your house, and people were scattered in each corner. You weren't necessarily popular, but it was you and Eddie's idea to throw a party so he could make some quick cash. With the help of King Steve, of course. Seeing how he was already drunk, he must have already made his rounds. Unfortunately you had to work and didn't arrive until around 9 pm, about 3 hours into the party. Eddie was absolutely wasted and probably was on something else, too. You never knew with him.

"Steve.. the fuck is in this?" You took a sip of your drink and cringed. He laughed and shrugged, taking a sip and mirroring your reaction.

"Huh." Eddie huffed next to you, eyes narrowing and darting back and forth between you two.

"Should we whip together a new punch? May have put a little bit too much rum in this one." Steve pinched his thumb and pointer finger together, taking a couple steps back in the direction of your kitchen.

You were about to follow him when Eddie's arm tightened around you, leather squeaking against your shoulder. You looked at him quizzically when he let out a whiny groan.

"Eddie.. What's up? Do you feel okay?" He pulled his arm off you so that you could face him.

His cheeks were flushed and eyes hooded as he gazed down at you.

"Jus' want you to stay with me 's all.." He clumsily placed a hand on your waist and pulled you toward him. "You always gotta be aroun' King Steve… hmph." His lips turned down into a pout.

Your brain short circuited and you stared at him trying to piece together what's making him so mopey. Of course you were often around Steve. Though he hasn't asked you out yet, there was definitely something going on between you two.

You nervously laughed and gripped the front of his leather jacket as he stumbled back a bit. Your head was getting fuzzy yourself and you wished you were able to think a bit clearer.

"I think you should take a rest, Eds.." Your eyes trailed around the living room, pushing him toward the half empty sofa.

His fingers tightened on your waist as he was about to sit down and you pulled yourself from his grip gently. His lips turned down even more and he slumped his shoulders before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

"Fine. Go with your new boyfriend 'cause he's just s' cool with his cool hair and his cool coolness." He waved you off as he dramatically crossed his arms like a kid and huffed.

"Stop being a baby. I'll be right back." You gave him a deadpan expression and stuck your tongue out, tapping your shoe against his before going into the kitchen.

Steve was sitting on the counter with his arms crossed, various bottles of liquor, mixers, and other drinks littered across your island table.

"Soo.." He kicked himself off the counter to stand beside you, eyes scanning over all the ingredients.

"Is Eddie alright?" He itched the back of his neck as his eyes peeked through the doorway to where Eddie sat, still grumpy but now playing with a glowstick that someone left on the coffee table. Him and Steve were friends, actually, but he was so blasted that he was letting his feelings show a little too much.

"He's fine.." You laughed, shaking your head. "Such a big baby."

You both made the new punch and talked about random stuff, almost an hour passing before Eddie waddled in the kitchen.

"You two lovebirds done yet? I'm thirsty." He leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, seemingly a little less drunk than before as he scowled at Steve.

You gave him an annoyed look at his comment before filling a cup and handing it to him, which he just took from you and set it on the counter.

He stared at Steve with his tongue in his cheek before kissing his teeth and grabbing his cup before disappearing again.

You opened your mouth to call for him as Steve put a hand on your shoulder.

"You should uh.. go check on him." He nodded his head toward the door.

You clenched your teeth as you weaved in and out of people. You were pissed, to say the least, because it felt like you were babysitting instead of enjoying the party. It took you almost twenty minutes to find Mr. Crankypants laying in your backyard. You trudged over to him, fists clenched by your sides and the water bottle you were holding crunching in your grip.

"Eddie, what is wrong with you?" You looked down at him, crossing your arms.

His eyes left the stars and met yours, widening as he stuck an arm up and pointed at you.

"Ah! My favorite star just appeared!!" He yelled, hand flapping in excitement.

You struggled to keep the scowl on your face, failing miserably as Eddie beamed at you, laughing at himself.

You sighed as he stood up, dusting himself off and eyes looking into yours fondly.

"You okay?" You stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm.

He let himself fall forward and stuffed his face into your neck, arms clenching around your waist.

"Woa-"

"Miss you, sweetheart.." He mumbled, lips brushing up against your neck.

"You're the one who ran off, silly." You hugged him tighter.

"Y-yeah but…" His voice cracked and you pinched your eyebrows together.

"Don' go with him, please." Eddie stuffed his face further into your neck when you tried to pull away.

You'd never been this close before, aside from his side hugs.

"What are you talking about, Eddie." You whispered.

He sighed, hot breath warming your throat. You pulled back and looked into his eyes, waiting for an explanation.

"Uhm.." He furrowed his eyebrows and puckered his lips.

"What're we talking about?" He quirked an eyebrow up. "Too much vodka-"

You rolled your eyes and pinched his cheek.

"Eddie. You don't want me around Steve." You blurted out, patience wearing thin.

His mouth opened and closed, lips turning downward and eyes glazing over with tears. You gasped and put your hands up.

"H-hey, it's fine- we don't have to talk about it." You hurriedly tried to change the subject.

He bowed his head down and sniffled as a tear rolled down his nose. Your heart sank when you tried to grab his hand, his whole body shrinking away from you. You said his name again but he only shook his head, huffing as more tears came out.

"Jus' wish I had a chance 's all." He hiccuped and angrily wiped his face with his sleeve, hair covering his face from your view. "- don't know how t'do this sorta thing like him." Another sniffle escaped him as he stepped further away from you.

The lump in your throat grew as you realized what the problem here was. He liked you and didn't want you to go with Steve. You mentally slapped yourself for being so blind to it.

You hopped forward and grabbed his hand, pulling him back toward you and walking further into your yard, away from the several nosey eyes that were in Eddie.

You pushed his hair from his face, all wet due to his tears. He felt so embarrassed, confessing his feelings in this drunken state. But he just couldn't control what came out of his mouth. This wasn't planned. He never intended to tell you, was going to let you be with Steve because he knew deep down he was better for you. His low self esteem was what truly kept him from actually asking you out.

Your own eyes watered when you saw his tear stained face. His eyelashes soaked with fresh tears, face red and puffy. He took a deep breath and swallowed the saliva that collected in his mouth before lifting his hand to take a sip of his drink.

You giggled when his eyes quizzically looked at his empty hand and head turned to see his cup empty on the ground. His eyes met yours again, pinching at the corners as he lazily smiled at you. You handed him the water bottle you'd been holding.

"I think we should talk about this when you're not drunk, okay?" You leaned your head forward to peek under his curtain of hair that he suddenly flicked in front of his face.

"Mhm.."

"But… don't be sad. We are on the same page here, okay? I.. I won't go to him. I know what you're trying to say." You gently whispered and sighed in relief when he simply nodded back.

You pulled him into a hug and he hummed as he let the water bottle fall to the ground, his heart hammering against your chest.

"Look so pretty tonight.." He mumbled as his arms snaked around your waist, lower than they had been before.

You felt tingles run throughout your body due to both the tone of his voice and the path his hands were on. Eddie's palms smoothed over your lower back as he pulled you in more, if that was even possible.

You hummed and thanked him for the compliment, your face feeling hot.

"-always look s'pretty. But never seen you in a dress like this before.." Your lower belly began to feel hot as his lips brushed against your neck while he talked. He could have moved his head so his chin was resting on your shoulder. He knew what he was doing.

"T-thank you, Eds.." You gulped and his eyes shot open, smirking as he continued moving his hands.

"Hmm.. love it when you call me that." You could feel his teeth in your neck now, mouth fully on your skin as he spoke.

Your breath hitched when he placed the most gentle kiss behind your ear, lips barely touching your skin as they trailed down your neck and placed another peck before he sloppily began to mouth at the flesh there. He panted as he nibbled and kissed messily all over your neck, the night air feeling cool against your wet skin.

"E-eddie." You breathed out.

Eddie grunted and laughed when you tugged on his hair, pulling his head back. Your face felt like it was on fire and you were grateful it was dark.

"S-sorry." He snorted out a laugh nervously and started to shimmy off his jacket, getting annoyed when it got stuck on his arm. " s'hot out."

Your chest raised with each breath as you watched him. How the fuck could you even allow yourself to go out with someone else after the one you truly liked confessed to you? And he went at your neck like a fucking vampire-

"Mmm.. miss you." He croaked up at you, his voice weak from when he had been crying.

You blinked down at him to where he was now sitting, arms reaching out to you.

"Please don' go back to him." He pouted again and a laugh bubbled in your throat as you sat next to him.

"Well how am I supposed to after that?" You wiped a hand over your face and sighed.

He stared at you, eyes struggling to stay focused on yours when your neck was so visible.

"Need to do this side too-" He quickly scooted so his body was pressed against yours and latched his lips onto your neck, sucking the skin between his teeth and letting his tongue dart out.

"Eddie!" You gasped loudly as you pushed him away and laughed incredulously, slapping a hand over where you know a hickey is.

"Don't… don't tell me there's a mar-"

"Uh-huh there's mos' definitely a mark." He snickered at you and clumsily made his way onto his feet, eyes filled with lust as he watched you lick your lips and squeeze your thighs together. His legs stumbled a bit as he didn't have you to hang on to and he looked toward the house. Fuck, he was so hard.

"Gotta piss- be back in like.. fifteen." He held up 4 fingers.

You stifle a laugh and nod, wanting him to leave so you can fan your face. You were fucking sweating.

" 'f I wasn't so drunk… hmph." He put two fingers down out of the four he still had up and made a V, sticking his tongue out and obnoxiously laughing when you covered your face at the gesture.

" 'm actually going to jack off, I lied-"

"Eddie! Can you please leave!!" You laid on your back and covered your face, still laughing.

"Alright alright, sorry- no filter right now, sweetheart."

Your friendship will definitely never be the same.

Next part (18+) ->

updated 5/5

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fem!reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #drunk!eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddiemunson

[wishmemel]

cherry blossom springs, ft. fushiguro megumi

synopsis: megumi's oblivious to a lot of things. he's just never seen or lived. not really, not like you do. the sky is blue, the grass is green, and you’re sunshine. but what is he supposed to do with that and when did he get so lucky to be able to call you his? tags: megumi x f! reader, non-curse au, megumi’s pov, established relationship, fluff, characters are in uni (2nd year?) but have known each other since high school, sanrio lover! reader as always, reader is a spring baby cw: i don't think there's any! wc. almost 1.2k posted: 08/03/24 a/n: i've had this in my drafts forever, just felt iffy posting it since the word count is so low and it doesn't exactly come off as a story :(( but then i thought it was too poetic not to and it'd be a shame if no one else saw megumi the way i do so enjoy!!

Your pinky is interlaced with Megumi’s and even though you’re here—at your class, where you’re supposed to be—he’s reluctant to let go.

He’s only just found you, how is he supposed to let go so soon?

The two of you pause outside the door, locking eyes with each other shyly.

Megumi’s gaze softens, his tone hesitant and cautious, as if he’s still afraid that you’ll turn tail and reject him. “You’re… you’re my girlfriend, right?”

You blink at him, then giggle a little in response at his insecure question. “Duh, of course. What, you want a kiss to make sure?”

He’s already protesting, eyes wide, ears red, but you plant a quick kiss on his cheek before he can say anything, and he just watches, dumbstruck, as you wave goodbye at him, still giggling to yourself, before heading inside the classroom.

He blinks, dazed, and wipes his cheek, staring at the pink lipstick smeared on his fingers with a stupid smile.

You chatter off about your classes and he nods, pretending to listen while he’s captivated by the sight of your lit eyes and your bright smile. The high pitch of your excited voice is music to his ears and he's convinced he must’ve been unable to hear before he met you.

It’s like seeing love take form in a person. He can’t help but be drawn to you, and, more than that, he’s still dazed, head spinning from trying to wrap itself around the mere idea that you were his and he was yours.

He can call you his girlfriend now. He can talk about you all he wants without feeling guilty or self-conscious about the idea. He can hold your hand like this in public, your thumb softly stroking against the back of his hand in ways that make his heart race. He can stare at you like this for hours, enchanted by what you’re saying and not have you question him because you’re his girlfriend and he can look and no one’s going to stop him.

Is this what love is?

He can never tear his eyes off of you—things that should be embarrassing, he finds endearing. He has the urge to stare at you all the time and he’s always resisting the urge to reach out and touch you, even in small ways, even a little, like brushing the hair out of your eyes or making you pause so he can wipe away a stray eyelash. You have this way of keeping his face constantly hot and red—he’s always blushing and it’s so humiliating, but it feels like love.

He swears he can see little hearts floating next to your head when you speak to him, and it’s like all your words come out as music, lyrics that wrap around his head and go through his ears like some kind of alluring song he can never get enough of.

He sees Hello Kitty themed things and immediately thinks of you, wondering if you’d like a keychain that he spots on a student’s bag or some large sunglasses on another—all so ridiculous and shameless and so utterly you.

He finds it senseless how you don’t care about anyone else’s opinion, how you flaunt your style and your likes. He finds it ridiculous that he’s stopped caring the longer he’s with you too. But why look at anyone else, why think of anyone else, when you’re right there?

You’re his sun, the centre of his universe—life without you would go back to being dark and gloomy and unbearable.

You tap his shoulder. He flinches.

“Megumi,” you giggle enchantingly. “You’re not paying attention to me.”

Has he ever stopped?

“Come on, we’re going to miss our next class!”

Spring brings with it cherry blossoms and it seems like you can’t get enough of the beautiful pink flowers that decorate every corner of campus.

You love spring for more reasons than one—it’s your favourite season and you love to see the blossoming flowers, always stopping in awe to point out each new bud to him with buzzing excitement. He finds it contagious, he can’t help the smile that twitches at the corners of his mouth.

When the two of you are apart and he’s missing you, he sends you pictures of the pink petals fluttering to the ground to remind you that he’s always thinking of you. You send him selfies of half your face in class, barely concealing the wide smile that you bear.

Before your dates, he plucks flowers from the courtyard of your university, late at night so he won’t be caught, and brings them home to colour coordinate into blooming bouquets tied with white ribbons. But when he shows up he never tells you where he brings the bouquets from and you never ask, though you must have noticed the coincidences.

Instead, you have on your brightest smile, this tender look in your eyes that says, for me? you did this for me? every time and it makes it so worth it that he forgets the bleeding palms and the thorn scratches and the hours he spent coming up with arrangements until his eyes started mixing up colours.

Spring brings with it your birthday and you haven’t said a word about it.

He’s sure you think nothing of the event—he wonders how you’ve spent it in earlier years—but he’s determined to make it everything you want, gaudy heart balloons, tacky surprise party, and all. Even if he hates such events. There’s nothing that isn’t worth sacrificing for you.

You're always giving—you insist on paying for his meals when the two of you go out together (though he never lets you), you're the one to initiate any physical contact between you and him, and it's because of you that the two of you are able to talk through your problems (because lord knows Megumi is the type to remain silent and ruminate over such things.) For once, he wants to take the first step, he wants to give you something that'll light up your face. More than just "seeing him smile" like you claim. Something satisfying and worthy. He's sure he'll come up with something in time for your special day.

Spring brings with it rain and it means, more often than not, that you two forget your umbrellas at home and have to run to classes on the other side of campus. Still, you’re always laughing beside him as he uses his jacket as a cover, and he finds his head whipping at the sight, trying to take you in as much as he can.

You see him staring. You laugh harder. You tell him to look ahead before he trips and falls.

He thinks it’s too late, but he’s afraid to say that out loud.

Spring brings with it blossoming, blooming love like the flowers you adore and the growing smile he can’t wipe off his face.

Under the cherry blossoms, Megumi thinks he could love you like this forever. This is his third spring loving you, but it can’t be his last. He wants to make sure this love continues forevermore.

comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fluff #jjk x reader #jjk megumi #fushiguro megumi #jjk imagines

[kykyonthemoon]

Moonlit

You're on the mission to approach a target at a banquet, and that's all it takes to drive him crazy.

🌻 Rafayel/Xavier/Zayne x F!Reader Tags: R16+, suggestive theme, MDNI, possessive, marking and biting, no established relationship This is a request by Xuanlinhh. A/N: This is my first time trying out something like this for L&D, as I don't usually write fic with suggestive theme. So I'm curious to know how I've done with this fic. Feedbacks are always appreciated. After so many titles, I decided to choose "Moonlit", since the moon represents illusion, fear, hidden things. These are the scenarios where he shows another color of his to you. Thus, in all three scenes, there are moonlight all over the place.

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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

Your eyes widened when you saw the dress draped over your cotton blanket. It was long past the ankles, the shoulders were slightly bulging and hanging down to reveal the collarbone. The dress consisted of many layers of pastel pink and purple. In the afternoon sunlight, the sequins and pearls attached to it seemed to shine.

“Does he really want me to wear this?” It was a murmur to yourself. The dress was too exquisite, too expensive, too... much at least in comparison to what you would often put in your wardrobe. You did not need to become a princess, just a normal evening dress to blend in and complete the task assigned to you.

Being ignorant about high society or lavish balls, you had asked Rafayel for help. You never expected him to send you such a gorgeous dress.

Indeed, as he predicted, you became the focus of the party as soon as you arrived there.

Each party guest had a mask. Yours arrived in the same color scheme as the dress and was encrusted with opulent pearls and jewels. You wondered why Rafayel was making you look quite distinct. However, you shouldn't have had any reason to doubt him at all when your target moved toward you on his own initiative.

The target of this mission was a high-class profile from another city. Even though you tried your best to focus on the mission, you still wondered if Rafayel came here, or just his work.

The banquet area was adorned with paintings by Rafayel, so it was hard to look at them and not think about him. Had he made it in yet? Would he abandon you here, trapped in a conversation with a stranger?

Using the skill of pretended intimacy in order to obtain information was something you had learned from your training courses. You put a hand on the target's, smiling and talking as if you were fascinated by him. After getting the information you needed, you made an excuse to leave, but it did not appear like things would finish so simply.

He grabbed your wrist and roughly pulled you back to your seat. You shouted, but the music and laughter drowned you out. You aimed at the middle of his face and was about to throw a punch, only to have an arm wrapped over your shoulder and holding your back.

“It seems like this lady doesn't want to be here anymore.”

You knew right away that voice, and that scent were as familiar as a field of wild roses. You turned around and saw Rafayel standing next to you. His hand held your shoulder to help you stand up. Suddenly your heart was filled with joy to see him.

Your target still refused to let go, but when he realized Rafayel's face was not covered by the mask, he knew that was someone he could not meddle with.

He said something to Rafayel in a foreign language and then walked away. You looked at Rafayel, grateful:

“Rafayel…”

Before you finished speaking, you were tugged out of the banquet room by him.

The quiet garden was awakened by the footsteps of two people. From behind, you couldn't see Rafayel's face, only his broad shoulders covered in a dark-colored tuxedo with sequins. You had the strange impression that he was furious. Perhaps it was his pressure that caused your wrist to get crimson. He guided you through a labyrinth of plants and stone sculptures.

“Rafayel.”

He only stopped when you called his name, but still did not turn to look at you. You stepped forward to observe him. You took a step forward to study him. A frown could be seen plainly on his forehead as his face pouted.

“Rafayel? What's the matter?"

His gaze grew gloomy. His hand holding yours tightened even more as he pulled it up to touch his cheek.

“…”

His abrupt movement confused you. He buried his face in your palm, took in a deep breath and gave you a bite.

“Rafayel!”

You let out a cry of surprise instead of agony since the bite was rather faint. He took advantage of your vulnerability to wrap his arms around you, forcing your body to touch his.

His lips placed on your palm a kiss where it had just been bitten, then slid down to your wrist. You made an unsuccessful attempt to flee. He gave you another glance, or rather studied every strand of lace and fabric of the garment that embraced your upper body.

“I made a terrible mistake sending this dress to you. Too graceful. Too desirable…”

The moon, round like a silver disk overhead, provided the sole light in the labyrinth. Rafayel continued to rub his face on your hand, his face appearing and disappearing in an instant.

“He touched you here…” Rafayel whispered. He kissed your wrist and palm again, fiercely like a storm.

“You… What are you doing?…”

Your heart beat was so incessant. It might have been an overdose of alcohol that caused your arms and legs to feel so weak. Rafayel let go of your hand, just to rub his head on your shoulder. His fingers sank into your hair, causing your mask to fall off. You caught his heavy breathing close to your ear, his breath caressing your uncovered neck and collarbone.

“What about here?”

Rafayel asked, then he bit your neck, causing your body to squirm in agony.

“N-No! Rafayel!”

You tried to push him away, but the more you resisted, the more Rafayel tightened his hold on you. His lips sucked into your ear.

"Here?"

“I… I was just talking to him… That's all!”

"Good." He said, leaving your neck covered in crimson kiss marks. Moist. Burning. Exposed under the moonlight. "You won't be touched by that filthy hand ever again. Not in the slightest... I promise it."

A crazy thought suddenly crossed your mind. You had never seen this side of Rafayel. It frightened you, and also invited you to explore further.

“What... are you going to do?…” You asked in a daze. With your head whirling, you sought to Rafayel's powerful arms for support.

“With him? You shouldn't be worried about that guy. What you should be worried about is the things that will happen to you right now.”

“Rafayel, you—!”

He nipped you on the neck, then planted another kiss where he could hear your nearly deranged heartbeat—deeper beneath your collarbone.

You took deep breaths. Rafayel straightened up and gazed down at you, euphoric in his arms. The bite marks and kiss marks were intertwined like a work of art he had left on you. Similar to the garment you were donning, they served as a reminder to others that you belonged to no one, but him.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

The melodious music led the couples back and forth according to a set pattern. Every step, every movement was perfectly planned. Only eyes were not so easily controlled.

Yes, you had been looking at that man in the white attire ever since the music started and you were escorted to the center. His hair as bright as starlight at night stood out in the ballroom. And no matter where he was, you would find him in a blink. Even with the silver mask covering half of his face.

And, he also looked at you. There was a hint of sorrow and a tinge of rage in his eyes. Did you delude yourself like that? Or was he really looking at you and wishing that the person each of you were guiding through music was the other?

Carelessly, your heel stepped on your partner's foot. You said in embarrassment:

“My apologies… How clumsy I am.”

The man said there was no problem, and you continued dancing. This was the target you must approach for the day's mission. You turned back to face Xavier. He was also leading another person in the dance. Another target.

Due to the importance of this mission, neither you nor Xavier must show any negligence. But in the midst of this lavish masquerade, what you wanted the most was to leap into Xavier's arms. You could dance until dawn, if it was with him.

You forced the stray ideas out of your mind. You needed to focus. Extremely. You turned back to your dance partner, who did not seem to notice anything unusual. You pulled him closer and your hand on his shoulder slid down slightly.

A grin came across his grim mask to greet you. You caught a glimpse of the other side, Xavier's face tightening. Almost at once, his dance partner intentionally fell into his arms.

Fortunately, you had a mask on as well. Otherwise, your unpleasant glance would be visible to everyone in this room, including him.

You leaned your head slightly on your partner's shoulder. But you still kept an eye on Xavier. He was also observing your every move. Every time the other girl became close to Xavier, you did the same thing to your dance partner. This was supposed to be a mission, but it ended up being such a ridiculous competition.

One more dance and you got what you needed from the target. You made up an excuse and sneaked out onto the balcony alone. The starry sky loomed above you, and the aroma of flowers and grass bathed in night dew calmed you down. You removed your mask and set it on the railing. At that moment, a powerful hand was wrapped around your waist and gently squeezed.

You were startled. But immediately, you realized that the hand belonged to Xavier. He was approaching you from behind. He approached you from behind. His breath, which carried the delicate aroma of wine and cinnamon, breathed into your hair, before gradually sliding down the back of your neck, sending you slight trembles.

“Xavier?…What are you doing?…”

The mask he was still wearing tapped against your bare back exposed to the moonlight, causing you to shiver. Gently, Xavier laid kisses on it.

“Xavier!…” Your body was slightly bent, but his hand on your abdomen held you up. His other hand was around your neck, stabilizing you in that posture. A series of hasty kisses covered your back and shoulders. You bit your lip, waiting for him to speak while silently relishing the heated sensation radiating from the places where his lips met.

A little later, the hand holding you eased somewhat. You took that opportunity to turn around to face Xavier.

You could tell, even through the mask, he was hurt. He did not say a word, just looked at you like a puppy abandoned in the rain. You let out a soft sigh, wrapped your arms over his head to remove the mask. You pressed your palm against his cheek.

“Why did you do what you just did…” Your cheeks flushed, and you were certain that your back was now coated with traces of his. Xavier drew you back into his arms, grasping your hips once more.

“This mission…” He paused for a moment. “It's really too much for me.”

“Don't you like it, dancing intimately with such a beautiful girl?”

The scene of him holding someone else in his arms was enough to upset you. But it went both ways to Xavier, who was not able to hold his feelings any longer. To your surprise, he lifted you up and placed you on the railing. You felt guilty for unintentionally triggering Xavier's fury.

"I don't enjoy it one bit." Xavier replied bluntly. “Because, there is only one girl I have my eyes on in this universe and she is right in front of me.” His chilly fingers moved from your hip to your shoulder, then your neck. “I don't want anyone else to touch her.”

Before you could say anything, Xavier clasped your lips in a passionate kiss, sending your head spinning.

“No one else… but me…” Xavier whispered in very short pauses, then buried himself again in your embrace and scorching kisses.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

The high society banquet in Linkon City was truly a remarkable event. You also prepared meticulously for that day, as your latest mission needed you to meet a target at that party.

You had done quite well during the first two hours of the event. You looked graceful in a luxurious, tight-fitting black velvet dress, with long sleeves and a thigh-high slit. You spoke, laughed, drank, and danced with your target, and everything went perfectly until you noticed a familiar figure standing in the corner of the room, observing.

The guests were all wearing masks, and from such a distance, you wondered whether you were wrong. He would dislike such events. But you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched, attentively, by someone you knew well.

After completing the mission, you sneaked out through the path least noticed. Your feet hurt from dancing too much in high heels. So you pulled them off and wandered barefoot across the calm garden at night. The dew-soaked grass made your feet chilly, but it also provided a soothing and delightful feeling.

You sat and settled by the fountain. You removed your mask and threw it on the grass next to the shoes. Your feet had begun to swell. You stretched them out, placed your hands on the fountain, and elevated your face, allowing the silver moonlight to beam down on you as you felt relaxed and relieved after finishing your work for the day.

The sound of shoes treading on the grass jolted you awake. When you opened your eyes, you saw a figure standing between you and the moonlight, clothed in a flawlessly fitting black tuxedo. That was who you had suspected all along.

“Zayne?”

You called his name, and he took off his mask.

“It's really you!” You exclaimed, happy and astonished. "I didn't think you would attend events like this."

Zayne's face hardened, indicating seriousness. He examined you thoroughly, from your somewhat unkempt hair to the garment that clung to your body, displaying your curves and the bare thigh beneath it. He gently leaned down, one knee resting on the grass. His chilly palm touched your ankle, startling you.

“Z-Zayne!”

He gave you a glance, implying that you should remain still. His large thumb brushed over the irritated skin on your leg. Cool and comfy, as if being iced. You knew it was Zayne using his Evol.

“Seeing me here, are you surprised?”

You nodded; all words had vanished once Zayne touched you.

“I was invited. If I hadn't come, I probably wouldn't have caught you doing—"

He left the sentence incomplete without glancing at you.

"Caught me doing what?"

"…Nothing."

He tilted down and focused on rubbing your feet with all the gentleness that made you feel both comfortable and tickled.

“I think… my foot is fine now.”

Despite the fact that Zayne's Evol should have kept you cold, your body began to heat up. You were about to alter your posture to sit up straight, but he grabbed your ankle.It appeared so little in his massive, covered in scars hands.

"Be still." He whispered quietly. "Where do you want to go with feet like this?"

"I… have to go back to HQs to report for today's mission…" You made up an excuse. As soon as you left the banquet room, you sent all of the information to the headquarters.

"Mission? Is that the reason why you were intimate with that guy?”

Zayne gazed into your eyes. His face did not exhibit much expression, but his eyes were perplexing. Could it be that he was uncomfortable when he noticed you being close to someone else at the party?

Having hit the nail on the head, you pushed forward. You slipped your bare foot forward until it reached his chest.

"Maybe. But that man was really interesting. He's a doctor, too. Strangely, I was more interested in speaking with him than with some other doctors I knew."

Zayne's expression worsened. His hand shifted from your ankle to your foot, gripping firmly.

"Don't mess with me."

A giggle escaped your so red lips. “Or else? What would Dr. Zayne do to me?”

Zayne frowned. He gazed at your foot, which was still on his body. He softly stroked it and said:

"You're drunk."

"It seems so." You laughed again. Your toes started moving purposely against Zayne's chest. He grabbed them and to your surprise, he placed a kiss on the middle of your feet.

“Zayne!?”

You were so bewildered that you almost fell into the fountain. Zayne grabbed your leg and swiftly positioned his other hand behind you to support your back. Suddenly being so close to each other sent you a panic attack. You sensed a fresh scent like snow and wood emanating from his body. The sound of your heart beating was so loud that he could hear it clearly without a stethoscope.

He glanced at you for a minute before carefully returning to his former posture. His hand left your body, leaving you a little dissatisfied. As if reading you, he leaned forward again. One hand clutched the base of the fountain, exactly near to your hip, and almost immediately, you heard the sound of the water freezing, followed by silence. His other hand kept your leg tight to his torso. Long fingers caressed your calf and thigh. You trembled at the cold he delivered, but it was promptly followed by a tingling sensation throughout your body.

"Do you really like talking to him more than me?"

Zayne asked quietly. The hand that was sliding down your thigh came to a halt at the end of the dress's slit and then tightened, prompting you to cry out unintentionally.

Seeing your helpless reaction and crimson cheeks, a satisfied smile appeared from the corner of Zayne's mouth.

“I guess what you mean to say is, no.”

"You…"

You could feel Zayne's heat wrapping around your legs, in the place where your skin was exposed to the moonlight, then running all over your body. You sat still so he could continue to draw close, his lips gently brushing the corner of your lips provocatively.

“Now you will have to bear the consequences for teasing me.”

#heart hunters series #mdni #character x f!reader #fanfic #fanfiction #love and deepspace fanfic #zayne #rafayel #xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace rafayel #rei #homura #seiya #li shen #shen xinghui #qi yu #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #zayne x you #xavier x you #requested #lad requested #lad #l&d #otome #minors do not interact

[house-of-lovin]

safety net

Tara Carpenter x F!Reader

masterlist | over (1) | love language (2)

Summary: Tara Carpenter loved playing games with you. (inspired by safety net by ariana grande ft. ty dolla sign)

Warnings/Tags: toxic!tara, clueless!tara, mature language, implied sexual themes, mentions of violence and trauma.

Note: as promised THE LAST PART (woohoo😮‍💨) this was seriously a lot of fun and became a bit of a writing exercise using songs as prompts and trying to piece them together into a storyline. Thanks for all the comments, reblogs and feedback. They are so appreciated! Let me know what you guys think! <3

Word Count: 3.4k+

“You’re staring, again.”

Tara snaps her gaze back to the book on the table, ignoring her friends’ smug smiles. “Why don’t you just go up to her and apologize?”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me, trust me, I’ve tried.” Tara rolls her eyes. 

It’s been two weeks since that night at the party and you have been ignoring Tara. You spent the rest of spring break working at your uncle’s shop, avoiding the friend group, sans Mindy because you couldn’t exactly avoid someone you lived with. Tara attempted to give you space the following days and then reached out to you in hopes that you could talk and sort out the situation. Tara doesn’t want to lose you as a friend. 

“I’m not gonna apologize for something that wasn’t my fault, Mindy. Just because she caught feelings doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. But now she’s ignoring me?” Tara scoffs, “Well, some friend she is.” 

“God Chad’s right. You two are clueless.” Mindy’s nose wrinkled.

“She knows where to find me when she’s done being stubborn.” Crossing her arms, she glances back at you. You were sitting across the quad, on a bench surrounded by your other friends; laughing and talking, unfazed by Tara’s brazen staring. 

How were you not seeing her shameless looks?

She swallowed the pitiful lump in her throat as she continues to observe your carefree nature. 

“Weren’t you begging me to tell her to call you back like a week ago?” Mindy objected causing Anika and Quinn to snicker as they listen in, not bothering to pretend like they weren’t eavesdropping.

“Begging is a stretch,” She mutters weakly, picking at the corner of her book.

“Tara, why can’t you just admit that you want to be with her?” Quinn ponders, genuinely confused as to why you two are playing hopscotch around one another. Everyone could see how madly in love you two are.

It genuinely puzzled the friend group as to why it’s taking this long to get you guys to stop playing games.

They just wanted to see their friends together and happy, definitely not because of the growing bet pool. And not because it was getting increasingly expensive to wager in the bet the longer it ran because you two refused to acknowledge the clear feelings you have for each other. (It was starting to burn a sizeable hole in their wallets)

The brunette shakes her head defiantly, “We’re just hooking up.”

“You’re not acting like you guys are just hooking up.” Anika counters, “actually, you guys act more like a couple than me and Mindy sometimes.”

“No. We don’t,” She frowns.

“Yes you do and it’s gross,” The aforementioned girl interjects. “No one should be cuter than me and my girl.” She wraps an arm around Anika, leaning in to lovingly peck the girl’s cheek. 

“Y/N’s always bringing you coffee when you study with us at the library, even though her class is on the other side of campus.” Anika comments.

“She always loses on purpose when we play card games just so you can win,” Quinn adds.

“She laughs at all your lame jokes and obscure movie references – there’s no way you enjoy Suspiria as much as you say you do,” Mindy stated.

“Hey!” 

“Dude, she has a Spotify playlist titled with your name and heart beside it.” Mindy throws her hands up, feeling a bit fed up.

“Doesn’t mean anything, we share music all the time!”

“Tara, Y/N literally takes care of your plants when you complain about forgetting,” Quinn objects.

Tara’s still feeling persistent. “That’s not true.” 

Her dying plants have been on the mend these last few weeks and it’s definitely because she’s been paying more attention to them; placing the potted plants in a better area for sunlight and watering them more.

Quinn shoots her roommate a pointed look, “You were over-watering them, Tara. Y/N had to come over and change the soil. Did you even notice?”

No, Tara didn’t even notice. She was shocked at how much went over her head as her friends continue to list all the little things you do that, apparently, she’s been too blind to see. She glances back at you as you’re talking to a girl; smiling, unbothered. She recognizes her from her creative writing class – Tara didn’t know you two were close. Close enough for the girl to wrap a hand around your arm and lean into your ear something that the Carpenter can’t make out from the vast distance.

Tara’s eyes slither into tight fissures as she watches the random girl continue to make herself comfortable on you. Eventually, whatever she felt she had to whisper so close was over, but not before the girl planted a kiss on your cheek unsuspectingly. The Carpenter watches as you slightly jump from the contact, then eventually grant her a shy smile – the same smile you reserved for her. 

Tara feels an unpleasant drop in her chest because, for the first time since moving to New York, she allowed herself to finally feel everything she’s been burying.

It was suffocating, making her want to claw at her throat to get rid of the nasty sensation. Regardless of how much she swallowed in an attempt to get rid of the feeling, it only grew larger as it ached; begging to be acknowledged. Hastily, Tara stands up, gathering her things.

“Where are you going?” Her friends' questions were left unacknowledged as she footed it, not really sure where she was going; all Tara knows is that she had to get away before her friends see her break down. 

In her haste, Tara misses your concerned eyes tracking her disappearing figure.

●●●

Tara is choosing to ignore the world and her problems.

After that conversation with her friends, she ran home, plopped into her bed and hid under the covers for the remainder of the afternoon. She put on her favourite horror movies, hoping it would distract her from her thoughts of you. But her efforts proved to be fruitless. You tormented her thoughts regardless of how desperately she tried to drown them out. 

So, she sat there until bright blue skies turned navy and drove herself mad thinking about you.

Trust came sparsely for someone who was violently attacked by a deranged murderer. As much as Tara tried to push through the past and live as if nothing happened, it plagued her in her daily life. It revealed itself when a phone rang too loudly, near kitchen knives, or in dark areas – there were just certain experiences that were tainted by the memory of Ghostface. 

But then you showed up. She remembers opening the door to her apartment and there you were, standing behind Mindy with a $15 bottle of champagne and a poorly-wrapped throw blanket for the old couch to celebrate the Carpenter’s housewarming party (an attempt at some normalcy) with a shy smile and Tara was hooked. 

No matter how much she tried to distance herself, echoing sentiments that it’s a bad idea to get involved with someone so soon.

You lured her in, anyway.

It was in your tenderness that you had Tara wrapped around your finger.

Normally, the Carpenter would be annoyed with someone treating her like she was made of glass, but when it came to you; she knew it wasn’t out of pity. Your gentleness was welcomed with open arms because for once in her life, Tara finally felt like she didn’t have to be so brave all the time, at least, not when she was around you. 

She didn’t have to pretend her life was as put-together as she made it out to be. 

Because for once, someone had finally made her feel like she is worthy enough to stay for, to care for, and maybe to love. And that was terrifying because all anyone in her life had ever done is let her down and leave – Sam, her mom, her dad, Amber. So she kept you on a tight leash; taking control and leading. Never letting you close enough to see how she really feels about you. But there are cracks in the unsturdy walls she tries to put up, she’s not perfect. How can she resist you when you still willingly chased after her regardless of what she’s put you through – and how even through her harshness, you never lose your gentleness with her.

You create real balance and peace within her (not the fake one, she’s desperately fronting) and to someone who’s only known chaos and instability – that’s terrifying. So sue her, for being a little scared.

So, yes. 

Right now, Tara is ignoring everything around her because that realization is too big a burden to deal with.

She has her legs pulled up to her chest, the fuzzy blanket you gifted months ago, wrapped around her shoulders as she watches the TV from the couch; not really paying attention to the film. Her eyes begin to burn the longer she stares at the blue-lit screen causing a painful sting to her pupils. 

A terse knock on the front door startles her making her blink at the sound. 

Everyone was out for the night; Sam at therapy, Quinn at a hookup’s house and her other friends, all off doing their own thing. She wasn’t sure who could be at the door at this time. Cautiously, she stands to silently walk to the door – the pads of her naked feet connecting to the wooden floor litter goosebumps on her skin. Standing on the tips of her toes, Tara looks through the peephole.

She sees you shifting on your feet, glancing over your shoulder – looking unsure if you should even be there. 

Tara feels a pit forming in her stomach, but moves swiftly to unlock the door, opening it. 

“Hey.” She says softly, palm wrapped tight on the doorknob in an attempt to ground herself.

“Hi.” You rub a hand on the back of your neck.

“What–what are you doing here?” Tara sees you flinch, mistaking her tone for malice but you’re answering before she can correct herself.

“Mindy said you needed my help.” You drawl as if confused. 

Tara shares your confusion, brows drawing together. “I… don’t need help?”

You shake your head, clenching your jaw tight, “God dammit… I think she set us up.” 

“Oh.”

Rolling your eyes, “Yeah, oh. Look, that’s my bad, I’ll deal with her. You can go back to… doing whatever you were doing.” 

Tara sees you eye her attire glumly; an oversized shirt that covered her bare legs; assuming the worst. Her eyes immediately widened like saucers, grabbing your arm before you could leave. 

“No! That–that’s not–I’m home. Alone.” She clarifies. The word ‘alone’ taking a special raised and rushed tone. 

You scoff, pulling away from her, “good for you.”

“Can we talk?” Tara calls out, she can’t let you leave yet – despite her previous decision to ignore you and ignore her feelings. The longer you stood across from her, the more she realized just how much she’s missed you these last few weeks.

“No.” You continue to walk down the hall.

Tara grows desperate, running after you and grabbing your arm again to stop you from leaving. The concrete floors were rough on the soles of her feet. “Y/N, please.”

You turn, ready to yank your arm away from her grip but her watery eyes halt you; sympathy bubbling lowly in your chest and you curse inwardly at how easy it was for her to lure you back in. 

“Can y’all shut the fuck up? Some people are trying to get some sleep!” A voice interrupted, it was her neighbour, peeking his head a couple of doors down to yell at you two. He pops his whole body out when he sees Tara’s revealing figure, shooting her a lewd smile through his cigarette-tainted teeth,  “Oh hey, there.”

Tara feels you turn in her hold as your face drops – jaw clenching as you glare at her sleazy neighbour (who was at least in his late 40s judging by his greying hair) “Go back inside unless you wanna get fucked up and stop looking at her.” 

He stares back for a few seconds, debating if the challenge was worth his time. You move her behind you with a tug of an arm; blocking his view of her. Tara knows it's the wrong time but she couldn’t help but move closer; inhaling your familiar perfume. “Man, you’re not even worth my time.”

You wait until he shuts the door before facing her again, muttering under your breath. “Creepy motherfucker.” 

“Go back inside before anyone else comes out here begging for a show.” You tell her, lightly pushing her back to her door. But her hold on your arm tightens, “Not until you come inside and talk to me.”

You sigh, looking around the hallway in an attempt to buy yourself some time before you eventually gave in – tugging her inside the apartment.

Only once you were both inside did you pull away from her grip; Tara’s arm falling limply by her side. You look at her expectantly, “Well?”

Tara remains unmoving and silent, She curls into herself, leaning against the back of the couch just staring at you

You grow annoyed at her silence, running a hand on your face, “Tara you begged me to talk…” 

Still nothing from the Carpenter; she isn’t sure why she can’t say anything now that you’re standing in front of her. Maybe it was because she wasn’t ready to confront you and her feelings but as you stood there, about to leave, she knew she couldn’t let that happen. She wasn’t sure when she would see you again, this was the closest you’d been around her in the last few weeks. 

At this point, she was acting on pure impulse and heightened emotions.

“Unbelievable…” You mutter, grabbing the doorknob. She can feel practically feel the sharp snap in your patience as you try to leave, again.

“I don’t get you.” 

That stops you in your tracks, making you turn looking confused. 

“What?”

Tara begins to shake her head.

“I mean, I don’t get you… Like, why are you still here? Jesus, Y/N, you’ve been ignoring me but you still came here cause you thought I needed help. Even after all the petty shit I’ve been doing with those guys to fuck with you and after the party” She grabs at her hair; roughly tugging on it. “And even after all that, you still chase after me. Why!”

“Because I love you.” 

Tara inhales a sharp breath at your admission and how carelessly easily you said those words. Your brows furrowed like you looked genuinely confused by her question, it has Tara scoffing in disbelief. Unsure how you can still give her genuineness even after everything she’s done, she doesn’t deserve it.

“No, you don’t, you can’t. We’re just hooking up, it was just sex.” She denies, but a fog of tears is beginning to cloud her eyes. Even through the haze, she can see you approaching closer, holding a cautious hand out. 

“Maybe I am just a hook-up to you… but I didn’t just catch feelings for you. I’m not just falling in love with you, I already fell Tara. More like, I dove head-first without a life jacket,” You take the moment to chuckle dryly.

“And yeah, that wasn’t part of the plan but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself I didn’t tell you that there’s someone that wants to wake up and fall asleep beside you every day. Someone that wants to show you that maybe this time you don’t have to be so afraid to let someone in.” You shake your head, looking down for a brief moment of insecurity but you regain the passion in your eyes as you connect gazes.

“So, look me in the eyes and tell me that I’m just a hookup, and if you do. I’ll leave you alone – for good.” She desperately blinked away the tears as she attempts to meet your eyes to tell you that you are just a hookup, it is just sex, she doesn’t love you too. But when she meets your eyes, she sees tenderness again and suddenly her knees are buckling under her.

Her body doesn’t meet the ground like she expects it to. Instead, you grabbed her, wrapping a firm arm around her waist as you held her weight up. She can hear distant mutterings of comfort being whispered in her ear but nothing registers as she realizes that she’s starting to sob uncontrollably. 

“Baby…need you to breathe… ‘gonna make yourself sick.” 

She couldn't hear anything around her until her face is being pressed into soft fabric; clawing at it, in a desperate attempt to self-soothe. She’s having a panic attack. 

“Tara… Please, baby, you have to breathe–” You beg but Tara can’t hear you properly.

Nothing works until she feels you wrap her in a firm hug, still leaving her enough space so as to not feel suffocated. One arm around her waist, the other hand wrapped around her neck, as you rub soothing lines on her clammy skin. 

A few moments of silence pass until Tara feel the pressure in her chest ease as the ringing in her ears subsides. She gasps for air against your chest, coughing as a burning ache in her throat develops. The rubbing of lines on her neck turns into firm pats on the back as Tara continues to cough through her tears.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You shush her. Eventually, her coughs turn into occasional sniffles and deep breaths as you run fingers back up her hair comfortingly; giving her all patience she required.

“I’m sorry,” Tara says once she pulls her head off your chest, keeping a tight grip on your clothes.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Your eyes softened as you ran the pads of your thumbs to wipe away at her tear-stained cheeks.

She shakes her head in your grip, “Yes, I do. Even now, you’re still treating me so well. I don’t deserve it.” Her voice turns into a broken whisper as she finally allows herself to be vulnerable.

“Oh Tara,” You said so tenderly, “You deserve the world, baby. You’re amazing.”

“No, I’m not,” She shakes her head, beginning to pull away from you, not wanting to hear your words and how genuinely you believed it. 

You tightened your grip around her waist, preventing her from moving. “Yes, you are, if only you can see yourself the way I see you. Oh, Tara, you don’t even realize it. You amaze me, you make me want to be a better person, that’s what you do to me, that’s what you make me feel. Not the other stuff you’re saying.”

Shaking your head, passion raging in your eyes; eye contact with the smaller girl unwavering, “The way you care for everyone around you, and how you carry yourself despite everything you’ve gone through… Baby, it’s amazing to watch you be yourself. I know, I know… After Amber, it’s hard–” That makes Tara’s eyes widen, unaware you knew about her and her late friend. 

“–to trust people but, if you just gave me a chance and spared me an ounce of trust to let yourself fall… I promise I’ll be under there waiting with a safety net.” 

Tara examines your eyes, there was no ounce of dishonesty in them. But that’s to be expected, you’ve always been genuine with her, always up-front, and calling her out on her shit – with love. It was one of the things that made her fall for you. Where everyone around her treats her like she’s a porcelain doll, letting her get away with whatever she wanted – you stopped her, but always in a way that was more so loving and protective rather than overbearing and smothering.

The thudding in her chest begs for reprieve as her heart craves to be moulded with yours. Her heart wants to know what it was like to beat in tandem with you, to finally allow herself to be caught instead of trying (and failing) to hold herself up all the time. 

As Tara’s body caves in on herself, she pulls you down by the neck, unable to hide the content sigh that leaves her lips when your mouths meet in the middle. The kiss was sweet, passionate and firm; it poured out all love that words could never capture; where the tool of language proved to be invaluable in expressing her feelings. 

“I trust you…” Tara whispers when she pulls away, unable to school the smile breaking across her lips. You giggle, making her smile wider. For once the heaviness in Tara's chest feels bearable with you in her arms. 

No other words were exchanged as you two attempted to meet again for a kiss only to bump noses and miss because you two were beaming so wide.

●●●

happy reading!

:)

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #scream #scream 6 #scream vi #jenna ortega

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Just had the wild realisation that I can write whatever I want here. This is a thing that I am allowed to do. I can scream into the void. I don't have to tag my posts. Grammar is a social construct. It doesn't matter who's listening. The people I love and who love me will talk to me posts or no posts. Someone's going to read this and smile. Even if it's just me.

I can watch only the finales of shows to see their happy endings. I can eat cornflakes in the afternoon. I can go into bookstores just to creepily stare at the hardcovers of Victorian literature. I can write meticulous notes for subjects I'm not studying, and highlight it to Pinterest perfection. I can tell people I want to bite them out of sheer love. I can write long emails to my friends about weird slippers that remind me of them.

I can tell you that it's been a hot year, the hottest one to date, and that April hasn't seen a single drop of rain fall onto the earth. But it's hanging in the air, making it heavy with moisture and that relentless, relentless heat. It's muggy and the swamp theme I chose for my bullet journal couldn't be more appropriate. I can tell you how I keep singing that song in my head, Corner Of My Sky, the one whose music video has Michael Sheen wrangling with an occult toaster. "The rain, the rain, the rain, thank god the rain."

I can tell you anything I like. I can tell you that I'm afraid of being forgotten, that I've always longed to be famous, that I have a hard time not caring about every single little thing. I can tell you that I'm ace and I'm afraid that no one will ever love me the way I need them too, even if I love them the way that they need me to. I can tell you the nightmares have gotten better, but they're still there, they don't seem to want to leave me. I can tell you that I'm so much more ill and broken than I dare think about. Because I am afraid that if I start thinking about it, I shan't stop, and then it will become everything. And I don't want it to be everything. I can tell you that. I can tell you that I have beautiful memories, too, not just the fear and the loss and the anger.

I can tell you that I'm a performer, an entertainer, and I love making people laugh. I'm more comfortable on stage, where people are already listening, than trying to go up and make conversation to groups of strangers. I can tell you how wonderful it feels to have been able to speak to so many people all around the world, to have them know me, to listen to me, and to listen to them in turn. I can tell you that I don't know where to draw the line sometimes, I'm never entirely sure when I'm joking, and the act easily becomes a second skin. I can tell you all of that.

I can tell you all the things that I used to tell myself in letters sealed in envelopes addressed to Future Me. And it won't matter, and it does matter, and it's all so fucking absurd. It doesn't make any sense at all. Does it? I don't know. I can tell you that I don't know very much at all. Knock knock. Who's there? No one. No one who? No one who matters. Knock knock. I haven't been able to walk around for a month. This room is an oven and I'm being slow-cooked, broiled into a little Asmi pie. I read fanfiction yesterday after a long while. That was nice. I think it's really cool that you all know me. You do know me. Sometimes better than I know myself. I can tell you that.

I can tell you the truth. I can tell you I love you. And that to be seen and to be known is a gift that I will always be grateful for. I can tell you that you don't have to listen. But if you do, then hi! Nothing makes sense. Let's sit in the nonsense for a while. I have biscuits. Would you like one? I'm very human. It's one of the things that gets me so easily hurt. Maybe it happens to you too. I can tell you that my plant Crowley is surviving, unlike the others did. I can tell you that maybe you and I are, too.

It's 8:02 in the morning. I might just eat breakfast now. It does seem like the thing to do. How weird and wonderful that is.

#unravelling rambles

[lunarwritesthings]

☆— The Unfortunate Move —☆

Paring: Edge x Gn!Reader

Fandom: Wwe

Request: No

Summary: When a move in the match goes wrong, but no one realizes until you haven't moved since being pinned. What happens when your tag team partner and friend realizes and drops everything for you?

A/N: This doesn't exactly take place in a certain year, besides being after Edge got his neck injury.....I also may have left the ending open incase people want a second part. 👀

Life can change all too quickly, one minute you can be in the match of your career the next minute you can be unmoving on the matt. Then next thing you know your waking up in the hospital with a broken neck. However let's start for the beginning.

The title at stake, the crowd at their feet, and the moment to take home the crown. The sign you've made it to the top. It's one of the most important matches in a wrestler's career.

The match was going well, I had the upper hand and I was so close to winning. My tag team partner and good friend Edge was standing ringside, watching in a mix of awe and excitement. He had been helping keep control, by cheating a little...hey we're heels! Cheating is one of many ways we win.

Out of nowhere it all went wrong and the match was falling apart. After a mis-step by my unlucky opponent, I was thrown off balance and landed awkwardly on my neck. A collective gasp could be heard from the fans at the sight of my landing.

The world looked fuzzy to me, I was trying to process what happened. Once I started to piece together what happened, I started to freak out. I couldn't move, my body felt like it was made out of bricks.

It's hard to focus on the sounds around me, however i could faintly made out someone's theme music then Edge talking but I couldn't understand what he was saying.

The fan watched in horror as they realized something wasn't right. I failed to move from where I had been pinned. I was going in and out of consciousness. The silence from the fans finally got to Edge. He looked around until his eyes landed on me. The mic he was holding was thrown to the side.

After a few seconds, my vision cleared up a little bit. I could now make out a face of someone a few inche away from mine. At first, I thought it was just an illusion. But then I looked at Edge.

He had a confused and concerned look on his face. His eyes were wide open, and his eyebrows were raised slightly. “Are you alright?” His voice was gentle yet full of concern. As the adrenaline faden from my body the real pain from my neck finally hit.

It was becoming more difficult to think straight, and my vision was becoming blurry. My breathing was becoming more shallow, and it felt like I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer.

I could tell that Edge was looking at me with genuine concern, and my head started to feel like it was spinning. The pain from my injury was almost too much to handle. Before I knew it my vision had gone black.

As I slowly come to, realizing that I'm in a hospital bed. my vision is still blurry, but I can see Edge sitting beside me, a small smile on his face. He looks relieved to see that I've woken up.

"Thank god you're awake," Edge says softly. I tried to speak, but my throat is still extremely sore and dry from my injury, making it difficult to talk. Edge leans in closer, his voice full of concern, "How are you feeling?"

I try to sit up, but Edge gently pushes me back down. "Take it easy," he says. "You've been through a lot." I notice that he's still smiling, but I can tell there's more he wants to say.

"I need to explain what happened," Edge continues. He looks over at me, his eyes filled with concern once more. This couldn't be good. Edge takes a deep breath and looks back at you, his eyes still full of concern.

"Your injury is similar to the one I got." he says. I remember that incidents, and the matches that sent Edge into the hospital after suffering a broken neck.

"It's a serious injury, and it needs to be treated carefully," Edge continues. "I need to make sure you're ok. I'm not leaving your side until I absolutely have too." I was heartbroken. Just as I was about to reach the top, my career is over. My dream was shattered.

Edge stares at me, his eyes full of understanding and sympathy. "I know this is hard, but it's important that we take good care of this injury. We can't rush this process. There will be ups and downs, but we'll get through this together."

Edge offers a comforting smile, and I find myself smiling back. The atmosphere is becoming lighter and more optimistic.

Me and Edge continue to have a discussion about my injury and how to properly manage it. Edge encourages me to rest and take it easy, and I nod in agreement. As I'm talking, Edge's face softens and he smiles gently.

"We'll get through this," Edge reassures me. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." I smile back, feeling more and more reassured by Edge's presence.

Maybe my future hold a return to the ring, but for now I'll focus on healing and having Edge by my side to help.

#wwe imagine #edge wwe x reader #edge wwe #wwe fic #fluff #wwe x reader #edge wwe fluff #edge x reader #adam copeland

[toffeeanddragons]

10 Fandoms, 10 Characters, 10 Tags

Thank you so much @idle-brit for tagging me!This was lots of fun :) 💖

My tags: @delyth88, @elymusplant, @galaxythreads, @chemical-processes. No pressure to answer, of course :)

1. Loki (MCU)

As much as I love everyone on this list, there is absolutely no competition for number 1. Loki has been my favourite character of all time for nearly 6 years now (because clearly the best time to join someone's fandom is after they've just been murdered), and is showing absolutely no signs of being replaced anytime soon. I have a Loki blog, for god's sake. The brodinsons are my favourite relationship in any kind of media, ever. I love them so, so much. Loki's a million different things and feelings, all at the same time, all fighting with each other, which makes for a wonderfully complex and nuanced character. Also, he's hilarious. Look at that eye roll. This is a man who hates his life, which makes me feel better about mine. Thanks, Loki.

2. Klaus Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy)

As will become obvious throughout this list, I love me an emotionally traumatised crazy person. Klaus is that. One of the characters who makes me laugh the most, ever, show-stopping dress sense, and a bucketload of unresolved trauma which goes largely ignored by Klaus, the other characters and the narrative itself? It was love at first sight. Their banter with the other characters, especially Ghost Ben (rip) is one of my favourite aspects of the show. Here's to hoping that Klaus won't be getting the Allison treatment in season 4!

3. Pippa Fitz-Amobi (A Good Girl's Guide to Murder)

I binge-read the entire AGGTM series earlier this year, and instantly fell in love with it. Pip is one of my favourite protagonists ever. Impossibly clever, compassionate, obsessive, badass, and a teensy bit unhinged. What's not to love? I would die for her. I'd say that I'd kill for her, but I think she's got that covered. I think she's written in a very realistic way, firstly as a genius 17 year old girl who doesn't really know what she's getting into, and later as a haunted individual who wants to stop investigating but can't. The way she politely knocks on people's front doors to dig up their traumas, accuse them of murder and all-round ruin their lives is everything to me. She is my blorbo. I am so, so excited for the show to come out, and I'm sure that Emma Myers will do a wonderful job as Pip!

4. Katniss Everdeen (The Hunger Games)

One of the best-written characters, in one of the best-written series ever. Reading from her perspective is such a delight- she's endlessly suspicious of everyone around her, constantly on survival mode, trusting very few people and relying on exactly no one (to begin with, at least). She's a random teenage girl, from the poorest district, and she wins the Hunger Games. She's so mentally unstable that she has to be sedated, and still she's made to be the face of a rebellion. She's rude, and kind of unlikeable. She adopts all the weakest tributes, at risk to herself, knowing that they won't win. She's doomed to fail by the narrative. She's the it girl of 2010s dystopian YA fiction. Jennifer Lawrence is an amazing actress, who does a beautiful job portraying the depth and conflict of Katniss in the films. The themes and social commentary of the Hunger Games is one of its (many) strong points, and I am so so glad that people are talking about it again, because it is my favourite book series out there.

5. Mitchell Pritchett (Modern Family)

I have no idea what to say about this man, I just love him. He just like me fr. What an icon. Impeccable music taste. I've started saying, "no my god" now, and nobody understands what I'm talking about. Even in a sitcom, my favourite is the one with issues that he refuses to talk about or fix. The episode where he's trying to hide that he dressed up as spiderman makes me cry-laugh. Claire's speech at his wedding makes me just cry. He's not a perfect man, but he's certainly better than everyone else.

6. Shin Tsukimi (Your Turn to Die)

My favourite cringefail loser! I said Katniss was doomed by the narrative in a metaphorical way. This idiot is actually doomed.

No but in all seriousness, I do really love him. Before the beginning of the game, he was just a relatively normal young man- but, when confronted with the inevitability of his own death, he made himself into a monster to survive. He has a violent vendetta against the local badass teenage girl, who is traumatised as hell already and does not need Shin chipping in as well, thank you very much. I love his relationship with Kanna, his biological sister; how he uses her, manipulates her, and still cares for her so much that he dies for her with a smile on his face in the Emotion route. Conversely, in the Logic route, his actions are a direct cause of her death, and I just love how much YTTD hates siblings. I hope that his past with Midori is explored more in either a mini-episode or the final part of the game, because I find it sooo interesting. I'm super excited to see whether he actually has no chance of survival, or whether he makes it out, against the odds, on one of the routes. He's a bit useless, so I won't get my hopes up.

7. Rue Bennett (Euphoria)

I think it goes without saying that Euphoria has its issues, lol. Sam Levinson is an idiot. While a lot of the show (especially season 2) feels shallow and like it doesn't care about its characters, Rue's storylines always have heart and depth and I am so invested in her arc. It's no wonder that Zendaya won 2 Emmys for this role, because her acting is phenomenal! Rue feels so real to me, in the way that she's trying so hard to stay sober but she falls down and relapses time and time again. Recovery isn't linear, but she's getting there, and I adore her with all my heart. Her relationships with Lexi, her mother, her sister, and her sponsor, Ali, are my favourites, and the healthiest for her, in my opinion. Her brief friendship/ romance with Jules may have kept her more solidly sober than anything else in the show, but Jules (understandably) cracks under the pressure of Rue's mental health, and can't be there for her. Rue needs to heal for herself, which she appears to be doing at the end of S2.

8. Max Mayfield (Stranger Things)

Duffer brothers, please just let her be happy.

Despite only being introduced in Season 2, Max has, in my opinion, had the best character development out of everyone on the show. Her growth from someone standoffish, rude, and uninterested in the group (maybe I'm being a bit harsh. She was, like, 12) to someone who is willing to risk her life to help her friends and Hawkins means so much to me. The scene in "Dear Billy" (S4, Ep4) where she escapes from Vecna remains my favourite in the whole show and will probably be burned into my brain forever. Her relationships with Lucas and El are very sweet, and some of my favourites in Stranger Things. Her final line in S4, after all her struggles over the season, being that she doesn't want to die literally breaks my heart. I hope she gets some degree of a happy ending in the final season. She was my first profile picture when I joined this hellsite, and I love her a lot.

9. Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables)

The shenanigans that this girl gets up to never fail to make me laugh. The bit where she accidentally dyes her hair green and then has to hack it all off makes me feel awful for her, but. it's hilarious. Sorry, Anne. Her friendship with Diana is so sweet but also so funny to me because they really are the most chaotic duo of the 1880s. The scene where Anne accidentally gives her alcohol instead of fruit juice is so mortifying but so, so funny. Amidst all of the insane situations that Anne gets into are a lot of really heartwarming moments and relationships. Matthew and Marilla adopting Anne, even though they wanted a boy, because she's so endearing and alone in the world is probably what made me who I am today. I still haven't gotten around to watching Anne with an E, but I've heard it's amazing. I look forward to watching it when I have the time :).

10. Daphne Blake (Scooby Doo)

My first ever favourite character! Another one who I don't have a tonne to say about. She's an icon, she's a legend, and she is the moment. She has done nothing wrong, ever. She knows martial arts, so watch out.

Honourable mentions: Thor (MCU), Finnick Odair (The Hunger Games), Gretchen Weiners (Mean Girls), Jake Peralta (Brooklyn 99), Maurice Moss (The IT Crowd), The Eleventh Doctor (Doctor Who), James (The End of the F***ing World), Ali Abdul (Squid Game).

If you read all of this then thanks, and have a great day!

#loki #klaus hargreeves #pippa fitz amobi #katniss everdeen #mitchell pritchett #shin tsukimi #tua #agggtm #the hunger games #modern family #yttd #i post for once #instead of just blabbering on in the tags #tag game #thanks again for the tag! :)

[hwaightme]

"Your fan, _____" Series Masterlist

Hello there <3 welcome to the mini masterlist for this series! All works collected here are around the theme of what would each member be like as your fan and how that develops into a heart-fluttering romance! In general, the bullet-style fics are sfw, fem!reader unless stated otherwise, and done in two parts. Below the cut you will find the general disclaimers as well as additional information for each member, and links to the fics! Happy reading, and any and all likes, reblogs and asks are always welcome, thank you so much <3

Suggested order: Jongho, Yunho, Mingi, Wooyoung, Hongjoong, Yeosang, San, Seonghwa

GENERAL DISCLAIMERS:

These works are fictional and for entertainment purposes only, and do not reflect the people mentioned in them as individuals.

All works and moodboards have been created by me, and reposting is strictly prohibited.

Themes covered may be triggering for certain audiences and/or inappropriate for minors. This is why I keep the body of the works below the cut, and try my best to do extensive tagging and warnings. If you see something that does not sit well with you, please dni, and if I missed a tag lmk immediately.

👘 Hongjoong: (part 1) (part 2)

pairing: hongjoong x fashion designer!reader warnings/tags: language, radio shows, reader is goth, goth subculture, a bit of mutual pining, seonghwa aries rage, san is sus, jealousy, DRAMA(rama), hongjoong is starstruck, reader has her own fashion house/brand, photoshoots, brand collabs, demon line boutta act up

🛸 Seonghwa: (part 1) (part 2)

pairing: seonghwa x nerdfluencer & physicist!reader warnings/tags: language, SCIENCE, astrophysics, may the force be with you, scientific formulas, lego obsession, yunho driving, hongjoong jealousy and fatigue, seonghwa just wants someone to be a nerd with

📺 Yeosang: (part 1) (part 2)

pairing: yeosang x talk show host!reader warnings/tags: language, yeosang lowkey writing fanfics, manhandling, wooyoung attacks, roommate gathering, mc yeosang, reader is a late night talk show host, exo and txt appearances, wooyoung has connections everywhere, yeosang always has a plan even when you think he doesn't

🎮 Yunho: (part 1) (part 2)

pairing: yunho x game developer!reader warnings/tags: language, reader is a dev, coding/gaming is life, wooyoung knows, yunho as a gaming enthusiast, introversion, social anxiety, implied depressive episode, business friend playing wingwoman, flirting in chat, reader is oblivious, yunho wants to be noticed, gaming dates, ateez have potential as twitch streamers, yeosang is a legend, mingi is best homie

🍰 Wooyoung: (part 1) (part 2)

pairing: wooyoung x baker!/cafeowner!reader warnings/tags: maybe language, a tad suggestive, ateez chaotic energy, wooyoung what are you watching boi, e-girls mention with yunho hints, time to vacuum the lawn to catch gossip, ateez wingmen, wooyoung falls fast, reader and wooyoung are both flirts, cooking, baking, mention of food/eating

🎤 Mingi: (part 1) (part 2)

pairing: mingi x rapper!reader warnings/tags: language, reader is an underground rapper, mingi is totally starstruk, producer hongjoong energy, activism, criticism of music industry, dark side of idol life, hongjoong-ah instead of hyung, yunho is supportive friend (TM), mingi being a rebel, sneaking out, potential rap battles incoming, reader with that mic drop

💬 San: (part 1) (part 2)

pairing: san x interpreter!reader warnings/tags: language, simping, hopeless romantic, linguistics, interpreter/translator reader, duo bird terrors, ateez wingman alliance, concerts, public speaking, job stress, slow burn, falling in love hard and fast

⚽ Jongho: (part 1) (part 2)

pairing: jongho x footballer!reader warnings/tags: jongho falling fast, you are a football prodigy, hongjoong lowkey is a wingman, jongho hiding feelings, sports, football, cute romance, overall wholesome vibes, jongho is an undercover athlete, yeosang seizes opportunity, hongjoong is in on the secrets, sports, football, cute romance, secret relationship, seriously in love, overall wholesome vibes

Your fan messages:

[ 1 ] - Jongho, Yunho

[ 2 ] - Wooyoung, Mingi

[ 3 ] - Hongjoong, Yeosang

[ 4 ] - San, Seonghwa

#masterlist #fluff #ateez fluff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez san #ateez yeosang #ateez jongho #seonghwa #hongjoong #jongho #wooyoung #yeosang #mingi #ateez au #ateez imagines #yunho #san #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #kpop writers #kpop writing #kpop scenarios #hwaightme #hm/your fan series

[whitefoxgirl]

🦊Culture Shock🐰 A (possible) Jungkook Series

Summary: Jungkook starts a podcast with his best friend who is a foreigner to discuss different topics they were shocked culturally about.

Author's Note: Hello my beautiful readers! I am back! I graduated from university which is why I have been M.I.A! I am uninspired so that's why I haven't updated the Namjoon series. I was gonna post that I am accepting requests, however, whenever I post about it something happens.

Author's Note PS: If you guys would like, I can make it a series, but if it doesn't get any engagement I'll just leave it as it is. It's based on what I think my interactions which JK would be if we were best friends (very delulu of me, but, we all are a little). If you'd like to be tagged, interact with this. I am tagging people who reblog, but if you wish to be tagged comment or simply reblog and I will add you :)

Pairing: Jungkook x BFF!Reader (not dating, just two best friends)

Fandom: BTS

Warnings: Mentions of sex, cringy, full of crack moments.

Genre: Fluff, crack.

Word Count: 1.5k

Next Episode

[PODCAST INTRO/THEME]

Jungkook: WOOOOO! That's a good intro! 여러분! 안녕하세요!

🦊: *giggles*

Jungkook: If you don't know, I'm Jungkook from BTS.

🦊: and I'm Y/N!

Jungkook: This is a good project.

🦊: I honestly thought it would never happen.

Jungkook: Really?

🦊: Well, it's just... *trying not to laugh* You always go live whenever you want, so I thought you wouldn't do it because it would be obsolete.

Jungkook: Yeah, but my fans get more of me this way.

🦊: Oh my god!

*both laugh*

🦊: Very narcissistic.

Jungkook: We all are in a way.

🦊: Purr.

Jungkook: *snickers then laughs*

🦊: So, why did we do this?

Jungkook: Okay, so, I'm Korean an-

🦊: *chuckles*

Jungkook: *chuckles* *in between chuckles* I'm Korean, but Y/N is a foreigner in Korea.

🦊: Very "Emily in Paris"

Jungkook: *long pause* No, "XO, Kitty".

🦊: EW! *laughs*

🦊: Do I give koreaboo vibes!?

Jungkook: *deadpan/trying not to laugh* Yeah.

Jungkook: OKAY! Let me get back to it. As we talk more and more, we kind of noticed that there are some things that we tell each other that kind of shock us.

🦊: Right and it was very entertaining to other people to listen to us talk about these things, and honestly? I need to pay my college debt.

Jungkook: I- okay, we can talk about that off the podcast *laughs*

🦊: I will DECLINE ONCE AGAIN if you offer to pay for it.

🦊: *in between laughs* LET'S NOT TALK ABOUT MONEY!~

Jungkook: Yeah, we don't want a frenemies incident.

🦊: They were iconic though.

Jungkook: It was very culture shocking, we can talk about that in another episode.

🦊: For sure. Today's episode is about~

Jungkook: Musiiiiiic! *sighs smiling* I love it!

🦊: Okay, before that! I nee- Okay, WE need to-

Jungkook: Oh! I forgot about that!

🦊: I can tell. So, just because we started this podcast, it does NOT MEAN I WANNA DATE JUNGKOOK!

Jungkook: *laughs away from the mic* *gets close* I don't wanna date you either.

🦊: No! This is for real! People will-

Jungkook: Start to ship up and stuff.

🦊: Which, no. Please.

Jungkook: Yeah, and again, just because we have a podcast and they're with me, it does not mean that we're dating or fucking or-

🦊: EW!

Jungkook: *in between laughs* Stop!~ I have to be serious!~

🦊: *giggles*

Jungkook: *trying not to laugh* Or give you guys the opportunity or-*clears throat/gets serious* right to go to their socials and bully them. We're friends.

🦊: And even if we're dating.

Jungkook: Yeah, no. Please, just spread love and positivity.

🦊: yeah...

🦊: So, *claps hands* MU.SIC!

Jungkook: I wanna go first!

🦊: Go for it, dude.

Jungkook: *smiles* So, here's the thing.

🦊: *laughs* Oh my god, I know what you're gonna say!

Jungkook: Y/N likes a ton of different music and they are very knowledgeable in a lot of cultures.

🦊: *gets embarrassed* Stop.

Jungkook: So they have a lot of things to talk about.

🦊: Such a Pisces *laughs*

Jungkook: *in between laughs* Yeah!

Jungkook: So because of that, they showed me reggaeton music, and OH MY GOD.

🦊: *laughs away from the mic*

Jungkook: *gets closer to the mic* This music, makes "WAP" by Cardi B look like a baby.

🦊: For sure!~

Jungkook: I remember the first time you showed me the translation of it and I was like "뭐야!?! 이거 허용되나?!"

🦊: *laughs*

Jungkook: I remember the song too, it was "Delincuente" by Tokischa.

🦊: His Spanish is cute.

Jungkook: *long pause* Who?

🦊: YOU!

Jungkook: Oh *snickers* Stop. Okay! It too-

🦊: It was shocking for you.

Jungkook: For sure. The first lines were "Tokischa, you fuck or not?". I was-

🦊: *smiling* Clutching his pearls.

Jungkook: Like a church 아주마.

🦊: For sure.

Jungkook: And it got like worse over the course of it.

🦊: But like was it REALLY shocking?

Jungkook: *hums thinking* Well... It's not shocking but it was surprising.

🦊: Explain, sir.

Jungkook: Well, it was the openness of it. Like, her talking about how she wants to be filled with "milk".

Jungkook: I'm doing air quotes since I know you guys can't see. That they have to be quiet, that she's horny, that he should put it on her ass and coochie.

🦊: *laughs* NOT AT YOU SAYING COOCHIE!

Jungkook: *giggles*

Jungkook: My fans are gonna hate you

🦊: They'll think I'm corrupting you but in rea-

Jungkook: We're both pretty fucked.

🦊: Very in tune with our sexuality.

Jungkook: Yeah, that's why I wasn't SHOCKED, but I was surprised by the lyrics.

🦊: You know that's a trend?

Jungkook: What is?

🦊: People, Spanish speakers, show their parents the song to get their reaction.

Jungkook: That was lowkey me.

🦊: *giggles* It was, I should have recorded it!~

Jungkook: The first time you showed me the song, I didn't understand it because I didn't know what it said so I was like *singing* Ella quiere bicho!~ BELLACA!

🦊: *laughs loudly*

Jungkook: I was saying... VERBATIM "She wants dick! SHE'S HORNY!"

🦊: *in between laughs* 근데 귀여웠어! You have a cute accent in Spanish.

Jungkook: *gets close to the mic* *voice lowers* You flirting with me?

🦊: *sighs/groans* 아니야...

Jungkook: So, that was my~

Together: CULTURE SHOCK!

Jungkook: *laughs* That was so cringy! We're never doing that again!

🦊: Listen to us do it in a few minutes.

Jungkook: Yeah.

Jungkook: What about yours?

🦊: My culture shock in music?

Jungkook: Yeah, I'm curious.

🦊: *hums thinking* It wasn't the music, but it was the CULTURE around it.

Jungkook: Ooooooh!~ Controversial! Are we gonna get canceled?

🦊: *in between laughs* Our first aND last episode.

Jungkook: *in between laughs* Every Korean person will want to kill you after this.

Jungkook: I know what you're gonna say.

🦊: *smirks* Say it.

Jungkook: Out loud, say it.

🦊: *gasps* I thought you would sa- Forget it

Jungkook: The "House of Dragons" one?

🦊: Yeah.

Jungkook: But, twilight is more quotable and iconic internationally.

🦊: Oh! For sure!

Jungkook: Anyways! Yours is idol culture.

🦊: Yeah, but not like you being an idol.

Jungkook: Right.

🦊: It's like... Fans feeling entitled to you and your body and just everything about you.

Jungkook: 응응

🦊: Like even with your solo-

Jungkook: Oh god!~ *giggles*

🦊: Fans were like *whisper yells* "He's gonna kiss her! Who does she think she is?! There's gonna be sexual dances with women like with Jimin! ". It was... *long pause*

Jungkook: Yeah, it's a lot.

🦊: It's obsessive.

Jungkook: But, you were a fan like that too.

🦊: *gets close to the mic* Lower. Your. God. Damn. Voice.

Jungkook: She was obsessed with-

🦊: PLEASE DON'T EXPOSE ME!~

Jungkook: *laughs* Okay, I won't.

Jungkook: But you were like that.

🦊: Yeah, but I was 13. I've seen 20-year-olds act like that over idols and it-

Jungkook: It gives you the ick.

🦊: For sure.

Jungkook: But the way I see it. It's like they love you SO MUCH that it manifests itself like that.

🦊: Yeah but, there needs to be boundaries.

🦊: Like liking someone is okay, but they are their own person, and if there's no chance then just accept it.

Jungkook: Yeah, but you're manifesting-

🦊: Stop!~ He's gonna listen to this and I don't wanna say it out loud because then it doesn't happen~

Jungkook: Can I just say? He likes you too.

🦊:....

🦊:....

🦊:....

Jungkook: Like, in the way you like HIM.

🦊:....

🦊:....

🦊:...

Jungkook: *singing* CULTURE SHOCK!!

*both laugh*

Jungkook: Our producer is telling us to wrap it up.

Jungkook: 같이 먹어러 가자.

🦊: 콜!

Jungkook: Tell us in the comments if you want us to continue the podcast.

🦊: Yeah, I have the next topic already if they want us to continue.

🦊: You guys should tell us to continue since JK spend a lot of money on the equipment.

Jungkook: I'm taking 5%

🦊: *laughs*

Together: He takes that 5%~

🦊: JINX! You owe me a soda.

Jungkook: *sighs in defeat*

🦊: *laughs* Now he can't say bye until he gets me a soda

🦊: Anyways, support the podcast. Follow us!~ Stream "Seven" and... *long pause*

🦊: okay, un-jinx~

Jungkook: AND! Tell us what you would like for us to talk about.

🦊: Purr

Jungkook: Watch us become a tea podcast

🦊: Iconic

Jungkook: Is it?

🦊: You like to gossip so...

Jungkook: Well! It's because you made me this way *laughs*

🦊: *in between laughs* For sure, he minded his business until we met. Now we just gossip about things happening in the industry.

Jungkook: The Jeongyeon and Jimin tea.

🦊: *gasps* ARE YOU CONFIRMING?!

Jungkook: I'm not confirming NOR denying.

🦊: *laughs*

Jungkook: Okay, 먹어러 가자, 배고파

🦊: 응, 나두!~

Jungkook: Send us love!~

🦊: Love you guys!~

Jungkook: 안녕히 게세요!~

🦊: Nos vemos en el próximo podcast!~

#bts scenario #bts scenarios #jeon jeongkook #jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #bangtan boys scenarios #bangtan boys #jungkook podcast #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fluff #jungkook crack #bangtan boys imagine #bangtan #bangtan boys scenario #bts x y/n #bts x oc #bts x reader #bts x gender neutral reader #jeon jeongguk #bts jung jungkook #bts jungguk #bts jungkook #bts kim namjoon #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #kim namjoon

[444ctrl]

Tattoo Me / Eren Jaeger (Yaeger) x Black fem! Reader

Tags: Mature themes, sex, squirting, head (f and m receiving), p in v sex, tattoo artist Eren, black reader, +18, possessive! Eren, Jealous! Eren, Clingy! Eren

Word count: 2.8k / not proofread

“I can’t do this anymore!” You stared at Reiner. “What do you mean you can’t do this anymore?” “JUST THAT!” He let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry Y/n but I can’t fake this anymore. I don’t love you.” My face scrunched, “but this isn’t fake… it’s real.” He laughed, “you think THIS is real?!” He pointed at you then him. “No it’s never been real. Not for me anyway. I love Pieck.” I stared blankly at him. “What the fuck Reiner! How could you cheat on me?” You started to feel your eyes burn. “Don’t fucking cry. It doesn’t matter if you cry because I’m done. Don’t follow me or contact me. I'm going to pick my stuff up when you aren’t home.” On his way out he slammed our… my door. I felt the tears start to gush out of my eyes. You loved him and you know he loved me.

“Girl, you need to get it together!” Your friends wiped your tears away. “I’m trying, it's just we were together for 2 ½ years.” Kiana gave you a hug while Mari finished your makeup. “I’m done!” You looked at your friends and they squealed. “YES! You look good ash!” You turned to look at yourself in the mirror. You were so happy with your makeup and hair. You turned around and hugged your friends. “I love you guys so much!” “Aw it’s nothing anything for you boo.”

You and your friends were ready to go and you all looked perfect. “When we get to this club Y/n you have to talk to someone! You're gonna get some tonight!” Kiana clapped at Mari’s declaration. You laughed, “I will, I promise.”

The music in the club is blasting. Your mood automatically changes as soon as you walk in. All of you walk to the bar and get a drink. The first round was bought by a man and his friends. He was cute but he looked too old for you. “Y/n you see that guy over there he’s checking you out.” You turn your head and see a beautiful man with long brown hair and emerald eyes smiling at you. You look at your friends then hop out of your seat. “Well girls I gotta go.” One of your friends smacks your ass as you walk away and yells “you got it, girl”. He smirks and looks down at you. “Hey gorgeous.” You blush slightly, “Hey.”

You have had another drink by now and you two are talking and flirting. “I’m so glad your friends convinced you to come otherwise I wouldn’t have met you. You’re so beautiful it hurts me.” You laugh trying to cover up your nervousness. “You’re so cute, Eren.” “You are too darling.” You felt your clit pulse. “You want to go back to my place? It’s not that far from here?” You look up at him and nod. He puts his hand on your lower back and starts to walk to the exit. “EREN!” You both whip your heads around and look at this very short blond girl with an all gold dress and silver heels on. He mumbles under his breath. “what the fuck to you want Lana?” You look at him and then her. Omg… I’m some niggas side piece. TF. You try to get out of his grasp but he only clings onto you harder. He looks at you and makes sure to hold onto you tight. “WHY TF ARE YOU HERE WITH SOME BLACK BITCH! YOU’RE WHITE!!” Your jaw drops and you got free from Eren. He doesn’t even respond to her but runs after you. You run in the ladies room and text your friends to help you ASAP. Eren is banging on the bathroom door. “Y/n let’s talk! I swear it’s not what you think it is.” After sitting in the bathroom for 5 minutes Eren stops and Kiana speaks through the door. “It’s just me Y/n.” You open the door with tears running down your face. She gives you a hug and silently walks with you to the Uber where you meet Mari.

ONE WEEK LATER

You were out on a date with this man who said if you ever wanted to go out just hit him up. Well you did and now you two are downtown walking and finding things to do. “I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo.” He stopped and looked at you “bruh me too… ik of a tattoo shop one block away we should go.” You smiled at him, “Yea let’s do it.”

As you walk in, the smell of lavender and eucalyptus hits you and it smells good asf in here. “Hi, how can we help you today?” “We would like to get a tattoo.” She nodded, “Ok well if you fill out these forms we will get the space ready for y’all!” You both take the paperwork and fill it out.

You hand her back the forms and you two start to talk about what tattoos you want. You get called first and meet your tattoo artist. “Hi my name is Jean and I will be your tattoo artist today.” You talk for a little bit about how you don’t know what you want so he can do whatever he wants and wherever he wants. He asks you if he can put the angel number ‘444’ on your butt since it’s been popular in the shop and you say it’s fine. After he prepped you there was a knock on the door. He opened the door and stepped out. You heard whispering but couldn’t move to hear unless you wanted to get prepped again.

What’s happening outside the door:

“What is it, Eren? I’m about to tattoo a client.” “No tf you aren't, I am. You can take a break now.” Jean stares at Eren. “Why are you so pressed about tattooing my client?” “Jean it’s none of your business I just need to do it instead of you.” Jean laughed, “Eren I’ve known you since we were little. How do you know my client?” After a moment of silence Jean laughed even harder. “Oh is she that girl that you have talked about every night since last week. The one that gave you a hard on but left because that crazy bitch that used to stalk you was racist. well I’ll be damned. She’s fine asf so I get it but she’s still my client.” Eren punched Jean, “don’t look at her that way ever and it’s my shop and you work for me so I’ll do this one. I’ll even give you the commission I don’t want it.” He sighed, “Alright just letting you know she said she doesn’t care what she wants or where she wanted it so I prepped her for what’s been most-” Jean was interrupted by Y/n’s date. “I’m sorry to interrupt but is Y/n in here? Before Jean could answer Eren asked “Who are you?” The guy smiled, “I’m Y/n’s date.” Eren clenched his fist. Who tf does she think she is getting a date in less than a week when I’m still thinking about her. Jean finally answered, “yes she’s in there and he’s about to do her tattoo.” Eren nods, “I am.” “Ok thank you.” He smiles and walks to his room to get his tat. Before Jean could finish Eren walked into the room and closed the door.

Omg he’s finally back.

After 35 minutes I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Hey darling, your tattoo is done.” You snapped your neck around and looked into the man’s eyes. “OMG! WHY ARE YOU HERE?! WHY ARE YOU TATTOOING ME??!?” He smirked, “this is my shop darling.” You felt like you were stuck in a nightmare. “Want to see your lovely new tat?” “Sure.” He tells you to stand up and look in the long mirror. You look at Eren first seeing him admire his work. Well it must be good. You look down and see in beautiful cursive.

E. Jaeger

Your jaw drops and for the first 5 seconds you couldn’t make a noise. But after that you absolutely screamed. “OMG! WHAT THE FUCK?!” You turn to him and all he is doing is smirking. “You think this is fucking funny!?!” “No, I think you look better now. Perfect even.” You pull down your skirt and pick up your bag. You try to walk out the door but he stops you. “Nah you aren’t leaving me again.” Your eyes start to burn and water. “No no no darling you’re too pretty to cry.” He cups your cheek and caresses it. “Y/n since last Friday I’ve thought about you everyday and night. Not just sex but your personality too.” You feel a tear drip down the side of your cheek. He kisses it away and starts to kiss you all over your face and down the side of your neck. He whispers in your neck, “Y/n leave that man.” You moan quietly and it makes Eren want you more. He needs you and he knows you need him. “I can’t…” that made him angry. He knows you can and you want to but you are too nice and perfect to leave someone no matter what. “You will… do it for me baby.” You accidentally touch his print. He can’t take it anymore. He needs you. Now. He lays you on the table and pulls your skirt up. You clenched your thighs together. “No darling, I need to see you.” You slowly spread your legs and he just stared at you. “Eren don’t stare at me too long. It’s embarrassing.” “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about if I’m just looking at my favorite piece of art.” He took off your panties and put them in his pocket. “Eren you can’t keep those.” You don’t need them darling. Whores don’t need panties.” You gasped and bucked your hips in the air. “See you’re a whore. But remember you’re my whore.” He pulled you closer to him. You pussy right in front of his face. You’re so beautiful. You’re perfect for him and no one else. His tongue goes straight to your clit. He's flicking his tongue brutally, not letting up on you. You feel yourself getting close. You moaned and tried to clench your legs to not feel so much. His hand holds your thighs all the way to your sides making you feel everything. He’s brutal, not let up at all your head shoots back and your back arches. “Fuck!” Your orgasm is so long and so hard you feel like you’re floating. “Eren stop, I can't take it anymore.” You feel a second orgasm coming but this one feels different. “FUCK! I’m gonna pee, Eren stop!” He keeps going and at the last second before you let everything go he bites down on your clit. You moan so loud and buck your hips up into his face. When he pulls back his face is all wet with his bright smile. “I didn’t know I could do that…” He goes back down one more time to lick up all of your juices from your pussy. You reach for his zipper but he steps back. “Not now baby. I think your date is done with his tattoo. Remember to show him your tattoo. I think it makes you look absolutely gorgeous.” He wrote his personal number and Instagram on a business card. “For when you want to go out for real next time.” He helps you stand up and sucks on your neck before walking you out to the lobby. He waves to you and your date before you both walk out.

THE NEXT DAY

You rang the doorbell to Eren’s apartment. He opened the door and let you in. “You look so beautiful, baby.” “You look good too, Eren.” He pulls out the chair for you and then makes your plate. I made spaghetti with garlic bread and pesto chicken. “That sounds so good!” He smiled at you knowing good and well he found your instagram after you first met and found out your favorite food.

After you both ate you watched a sexy romance movie. He was paying attention to the film when you creeped over to him and now have your hands on his zip. He grabbed your wrist before you could go any further. “Are you sure you want this?” You nod your head completely sure of your decision. You unzip his pants and pull them down. You palm his print and he groans. You rub him from the outside of his underwear. “Fuck Y/n don’t tease me.” You rub his tip from the top of his underwear. You are a little intimidated by his size. He’s bigger than your ex and he was pretty big himself. He bucks his hips into your hands. “Baby hurry up please.” You pull his underwear down and his dick stands up straight. You immediately lick his large vein on the side of his dick. You aren’t even sucking him yet and he feels like he’s about to cum. “Shit…” He pushes your throat down so far you gag. “There you go baby, that's what I want to see.” He guides you up and down his dick he’s trying his hardest to control himself. You pull all the way back, “Eren you don’t need to hold back I can take it.” He shifts his body to where he can fully thrust into your mouth. His first thrust is hard and it catches you off guard but the second one is worse. He caressing your cheek as he fucks your face like he hates you. “You’re taking me so well… My pretty girl loves my cock.” You nodded slightly. “Stick out your tongue for me.” You do as he says and you cums on your tongue. “Let me see my cum on your tongue.” You stick out your tongue and then you swallow. “That’s my good girl, you knew exactly what I wanted.”

You take off your clothes, sitting on his legs with a condom in your hand. He laughed, “is this all you came for? A good fuck?” You shake your head and try to put the condom on him. “That one’s a little small baby. Now you're underestimating my dick size, wow that really hurt my feelings.” He pulls out one from his pocket and puts it on. “Remember I’m an XL baby. You’ll need to know for next time.” Your stomach tumbled a little bit. He laid you on the coach on your back. He had his tip at your entrance playing with your clit. “Fuck me already.” He glared at you for a second then rammed his hips all the way into you. You gasped at the feeling of him inside you. The look on your face almost made him cum right then and there. He pulled back and thrusted into you so hard and fast you felt like you were gonna squirt again. “It’s t-too much Eren.” You put your hands on his abs to try and stop him. He grabbed both of your hands in one of his and held them above your head. “Nah you wanted this. You wanted my dick so that’s what you are getting. Fucking slut can’t even take what she wanted.” You squeezed down on him. “You can’t cum until I say.” Your body did everything it could to slow him down but he couldn’t be stopped. “FUCK! Omg Eren you fuck me so good.” He smirks, “who’s fucking you rn?” “You!” Your face scrunched up, “say my name.” “Eren!” He grunted aggressively, “Louder.” “EREN!” “Fuck I’m gonna cum. Cum with me Y/n.” He used his other hand to rub your clit and overstimulate you. You both came at the same time and moaned in each other's mouths.

You were limp on his couch. He walked to his kitchen to get you some water. He sat down and moved you on top of him. He gave you some water and you happily drank it. “Y/n look.” You looked at him and he showed you his new tattoo.

[Your first initial.] Jaeger

Eren: I literally love this girl even though I haven’t known her that long. I need to marry her rn.

Y/n: This man 🫣. YALL I NEED HIM SO BAD. Love of my life frfr.

I know that happened fast but Eren is clingy asf. Mans wants to marry her ASAP now! Anyways thank you for reading.

#anime #ao3 #fiction #eren x reader #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren jeager x y/n #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #smut #reader insert #anime fanfic #possesiveness #possessive #possessive Eren #jealosy #jealousy #jealous eren #clingy Eren #fanfic #romance #poc writer #aot smut #aot x y/n #Spotify

[petrichor-idyllic]

OPEN WOUNDS

Alright, alright, I just know people are gonna get mad at me but I'm having Maze Runner burn out, and the requests I have are throwing me through a loop right now lmao. (Requests are still closed.) So, I thought I'd write something different to get me out of my hole- my own idea. Yeah, I know, Petri writing their own original plot? Mad.

Hope I've got at least one OBX fan in my audience.

MASTERLIST | JJ MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Fem! Reader x JJ Maybank. Enemies to lovers.

You and JJ have a tense relationship - you always have. But, both of you coming from rough home lives, you've both resorted to the Chateau and John B as your saviour. Neither of you talk about it, but you know more about JJ than you let on. Though, tonight is the night. With John B out with Sarah and JJ's dad out of town, you finally have the Chateau to yourself - until things don't go quite as planned.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, themes of physical abuse, generally depressing subject matter, no depiction of actual violence just the aftermath but still trigger warning for abuse. Also some friends references.

Ah.

The sweet relief of silence.

Between yours and JJ's bickering, the constant string of girls flooding through the Chateau, the parties, the drinking and John B's terrible music taste - the Chateau is normally a chaotic bundle of angsty teenagers. But not tonight.

Tonight, John B is on a date, Pope and Kie are at their respective homes, and JJ's father is out of town, resulting in him going home for his own peace. Probably, because he doesn't actually want to be stuck in the house with just you.

But that's fine by you.

You're not really sure why you and JJ hate each other so much. You swear blind that he started it, but he says otherwise. You were childhood friends with Pope, and JJ with John B - so when John B befriended Pope, you both just ended up tagging along. Now, you're a certified Pogue, and you're close with everyone, even Sarah.

Apart from JJ.

John B says you're just too similar to get along, Pope thinks it's because you're both too stubborn, Kie reckons it's because there's some underlying tension you both refuse to admit. But it doesn't really matter why, in your opinion.

And Kie is clearly wrong.

Though, when shit hit the fan at your place and you decided to seek refuge at the Chateau, you kinda sorta forgot that JJ was there for the same reasons.

You've tried, okay? You have tried to get along with him. To make things less awkward, if just for the sake of the other Pogues more than anything else.

But it just doesn't work.

JJ knows how to push your buttons, and no matter how calm and collected you try to be, most of your interactions end in an argument.

But not tonight.

Because he isn't here.

You lay, spawled on the couch, wearing a long worn band tee as a dress as you scroll through your phone, an episode of friends playing on the TV in the background. You think it's the one where Chandler gets handcuffed to a filing cabinet - but you're really not paying attention, nor do you remember the actual name of the episode. You mindlessly dive your hand into the bag of potato chips resting on your stomach, laughing at some TikTok Pope had sent you.

Between work, school, and arguing with a pretty surfer boy, you very rarely get time to actually just chill out and relax. You've not even bothered to get up and turn the lights on, the thin shine of the moonlight and the electronic flicker from the TV being the only things stopping you from walking into something when you eventually stand up.

Not that you intend on standing up anytime soon.

Things are going well. You might even be able to have a shower without JJ thinking he's hilarious and stealing your clothes. Or maybe even listen to music without him blasting his own music even louder.

Life is good, sometimes.

Just as you're smiling to yourself about how good your evening is, the door is violently yanked open and then slammed again, scaring the shit out of you.

"Jesus!" You jump, looking over the back of the sofa, it's too dark to make him out properly, but his trademark red cap and locks of blond escaping his choice of head wear give you a pretty good hint. "Maybank? The hell? Aren't you meant to be at home for once?"

You're too angry that he's interrupted your pleasant evening to realise that he's in clear distress.

"Fuck off, (Y/N)." He spits, leaving you in a state of shock. That's blunt and forward, even for him.

"What-?"

"Leave me alone." He says sharply, going into the spare room where he sleeps and slamming the door.

You sit there in a bubble of confusion for a couple of seconds before huffing and returning to your original position on the couch. "Whatever."

Your peace only lasts a few seconds as you hear a loud crash from inside the room. You sit up, silently, grabbing the remote and turning the TV off to see if you heard that correctly.

There's more crashing and banging as undoubtedly JJ has some kind of rage induced meltdown. That's when your phone buzzes. You open it, reading the message:

Pope

I thought Luke was out of town???

You

Huh???? He is??

Pope

I just saw him???

Went to the corner store and he was smoking outside

You

????

I thought JJ said he was gone for the week??

Pope

Is JJ at the Chateau??

I can't get ahold of him

You

Yeh

Burst in about five minutes ago

Pope

Can you check on him for me

You

Are you fr rn?

Pope:

Pls

You groan, tossing your phone to the side as you stand up. You stop in your tracks when you realise that the noises have stopped. The house is now completely and utterly silent.

Which is somehow more concerning.

"Oi, Maybank, you good?" You half-shout, earning no response as you pick up your phone from the sofa - just in case you have to call John B or Pope in a panic.

You get no respond, slowly walking towards the room. "JJ? Hey - you okay?" You knock on the door.

"Leave me alone." JJ's voice breaks as you hear his voice through the door, and you feel your stomach sink.

You don't particularly like JJ, sure, he's like, the hottest man you've ever seen, and he is genuinely kind of funny sometimes. That doesn't matter; you don't like him.

But you can empathise with him. And he's Pope's friend.

And it doesn't take a genuis to put the dots together about what's happened.

"JJ." You sigh. "I'm coming in."

To your surprise, he doesn't respond, so you slowly push the door open.

The room is a mess, clothes are scattered everywhere, a lamp's broken, the bed sheets are a mess and the pillow is across the room, slumped against a wall. It looks like he's thrown anything he managed to get his hands on. JJ sits on the floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, he stares at the floor, one hand in his messy blond locks, the other resting on his knee, red cap in his hand.

He doesn't look up as you walk in, his hair hiding his face along with the dimly lit room. Silently, you move, walking to sit next to him. You leave enough distance between you to make neither of you uncomfortable.

"I told you to leave me alone." He mumbles, not even looking at you.

You hesitate for a second, sighing.

"...my step dad was an asshole. When things got bad, I'd lose my shit and scream at anyone who got too close, screaming about how I wanted to be on my own. ...But, all I ever really wanted was for someone to push past all that and act like they cared about me."

JJ doesn't move, or even look up, so you keep talking.

"You can hate me, and tease me, and throw shit, and say you hate everyone and this whole shitty island and whatever you want to say to get it out your system - I get it. But I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you, Maybank - so suck it up."

JJ is still silent, but his hand falls from his hair, loosely resting on his knee as he finally looks at you. You look at him out of the corner of your eye, and try not to visibly react.

JJ already has a black eye forming, a cut on his cheek and blood smeared under her nose. There's also blood staining the back of his hand, probably from wiping his nose.

"... you gonna put our petty differences aside for five minutes and let me fix that?" You ask; reacting dramatically or with pity is just going to piss him off even more.

JJ hesitates, but eventually nods, sighing. "Alright... but I don't wanna talk about it."

"I wasn't gonna ask." You stand up, offering him a hand, that he doesn't take, before he brushes past you and out the room.

That's about right.

He sits on the sofa as you get the appropriate means from the first aid box. You walk back to him, looking at him for a second before you step forward and touch his face for him to look up. He immediately flinches, pulling himself away, making you huff.

"Dude, I've gotta touch you if I'm gonna help you." JJ mumbles something you don't quite catch, but he lets you lift his face. You lightly dab under his nose, wiping the blood away before moving to the cut on his cheek.

He hisses as you press an alcohol wipe to his cheek.

"Sorry," you mumble.

"Could've warned me."

"Figured you wouldn't be such a pussy."

JJ simply rolls his eyes at this as you continue to nurse to him. Then you grab some glue strips, pressing down on one side of the cut and pulling the skin up to reach the other, tightly holding the cut together so it leaves less of a scar.

"Why are you helping me?" The question catches you off-guard, making you look him in the eye.

And you suddenly become very aware of how close you are. JJ isn't the goofy kid who always had a tooth missing and dirt on his clothes that you grew up with anymore. He's objectively gorgeous - there's a reason there's a seemingly endless amount of girls in the Chateau when he's around.

His bright ocean blue eyes lock with yours, and for a second, you understand. You understand all of those girls you judged and made fun of for falling for the blond's charm.

I mean look at him. How could they not?

And now is the worst moment to realise that.

You stand between his legs, bodies close, you're only wearing a thin lounge shirt and JJ's hands rest on his open legs, almost like he's fighting the instinct to put them on your waist.

You clear your throat, ripping your eyes away from his hypnotic gaze. He notices the shift, raising his eyebrow as you finally answer his question.

"I think I've already explained that."

He shrugs. "Yeah, I guess, but, like, you don't have to do this. Ain't you meant to hate me?"

"I only hate you because you hated me first."

"I didn't."

"Did too."

"Whatever." He pauses, eyes following your every move as you brush hair out of your face, grabbing his jaw.

"Stop moving."

"It hurts."

"Cope."

You place another gluestrip on his cheek. He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly shuts it again, making you curious. "What?"

"What, what?"

"You were gonna say something." You hook a finger under his chin, angling his face so you can see what you're doing better.

"No, I wasn't."

"Alright, fine - you weren't then."

The silence around you becomes more tense, and then JJ sighs. "I don't- I don't actually hate you."

You pause, looking at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"I mean, you're annoying as shit," he continues, "but... you're the only person that seems to be able to put up with my shit. So... yeah, yanno."

"So... you don't hate me?" You pull your hands away from his face, and he shakes his head, shrugging before running his fingers through his hair.

"No... you help around here - I mean, the Chateau would be trashed if you weren't around, and you help Pope out. And, I mean, he cares about you, for some reason, so you can't be all bad."

You scoff at this. "Yeah, yeah - you'll need some ice for that eye." He rolls his eyes in response as you return to the kitchen, bringing back a bag of frozen peas, which he presses to his eye as you finally sit down.

"It's cold."

"Is it really?"

"Ha ha." He fake laughs. "What were you even doing, anyway?"

"I watching TV and enjoying a peaceful evening."

"Sorry to ruin your evening." He says sarcastically.

"It ain't your fault." You respond, not quite sure where to go from here but you can't quite meet his eye either. It falls quiet again.

"...thank you."

He says it in such a whisper you think you're actually losing your mind at first. "What?"

"I, uh," he rubs his face. "I said thank you. You... you didn't have to do this. The others... When I- when..." He sighs. "Normally, they just leave me to it. They don't get it, they don't understand."

"They don't, not in the way you want them to, but they understand that you're going through something horrible. And they don't wanna make things worse. And you tell them to leave you alone and avoid talking about it - people can't help you if you don't let them, JJ." You say, your voice becoming softer as you finally look at him.

"You managed." He responds, watching you carefully. You don't really want to have this conversation either.

"Yeah, well, I'm stubborn." You joke, earning a snort and him dropping and shaking his head, his hands falling to his lap with the bag of peas.

"Yeah, you can say that again." He pauses. "Mind if I join you with your little marathon? I've got nothing better to do."

"What?" You scoff. "You want to willingly spend time together?"

"Yeah - fuck it, why not? It's been a shitty day, I'm not sure even your annoying-ass could make it worse."

"Ah, well, I'm sure I can find a way." JJ grins at your sarcastic comment, picking up the remote and flicking the TV back on. "Friends? Seriously?"

"What? It's good."

"Ehh, is it, though?"

"Just 'cause you have no taste."

"Rude. Well, what would you rather watch?"

"Uh, Two Guys and A Girl?" You blankly look at him. "You don't know what that is, do you?"

"No-"

"'Course you don't."

"Just 'cause you're a film freak." You sneer.

"Just 'cause you're uncultured." He retorts, then sighs. "It's another nineties sit-com. Only has two seasons."

"That probably means it's bad."

"Shut up. Ryan Reynolds is in it."

"That doesn't mean it's good."

"Uhh, yeah, it does."

You continue your dumb bickering, even though you do ultimately continue watching friends - JJ even laughs at some of the bad jokes. It's... weirdly nice.

You're not sure if it's just because you've become painfully aware that you're attracted to him, or if you guys are just trauma bonding, but it's almost fun.

"Ross is such a dick. Rachel deserves better." You chuckle at his comment, rolling your eyes. Then, after a moment, you speak.

"Oh, Maybank?"

"Yeah?" He responds between mouthfuls of potatoe chips.

"You don't need to thank me."

He pauses, glancing at you. "Yeah, I know - but I still will."

You nod, a small smile on your lips. "Well, you're welcome then."

○□○□○□○□○

"Guys! Guys!" John B rushes out the Chateau the next day as Kie and Pope carry booze and cups for plans of a kegger that evening. "You gotta see this."

"Huh? See what?" Kie blinks at the boy as she climbs out of her car, adjusting the bag she's holding full of paper cups. She'd lectured Pope for trying to buy plastic ones, which had condemned her to having to carry them.

"What are you talking about?" Pope raises an eyebrow.

"Shhh! Keep your voices down!" John B whisper-yells, making them exchange puzzled looks. "Come on. Come on!" He summons them to follow him, in which they shrug at each other as they follow him inside.

"Dude, what's going on?" Pope hisses, his tone low as John B leads them into the living room area.

John B puts a finger to his lips, then points at the couch. Kie and Pope exchange another glance before walking around the sofa.

"Holy-" Kie starts before John B dramatically shushes her again.

On the couch, you and JJ remain. You're not sure when you fell asleep, but you did.

You're both still sat up, your head resting on JJ's shoulder, his arm loosely around yours as his head rests on top of yours. You're almost snuggled into the crook of his neck, your knees pulled up and slighting resting on the edge of his lap.

"Should we wake them up?" Pope asks. "Psst! Guys-"

Kie slaps his arm. "Don't you dare. They're gonna get along even less when they wake up - let's just enjoy the peace whilst it lasts."

John B smirks and nods. "Yeah, come on, let's head to the Boneyard and start setting things up. They'll catch up later."

The trio walk out as quietly as they can, leaving you two to your slumber.

Kie's right; when you both wake up, you're going to be embarrassed and probably angry at the other. But right now, you're blissfully unaware.

The bag of frozen peas defrosts on the table, and even though JJ is clearly hurt, he's been taken care of, and seems content.

Yeah, so, I'm providing content no one asked for. This is my blog, let me live.

Lmao, in all seriousness, I figured writing the start of a potential crush could be cute for a change and it's nice writing for another one of my favourite boys, who isn't Minho.

I know this isn't my demography, but I'm tryna make my masterlist look less empty.

Anyway, I hope at least one of you enjoyed this :))

#🌿 petri obx jj maybank #🌿 petri writes #🌿 petri writes obx #🍃 petri obx #obx imagine #obx x reader #obx netflix #obx #obx fic #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank obx #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj x reader

[katebeckets]

the tortured poets department

i have thoughts!! surprising, right?? this is for anyone who cares to read them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Before you read, note that this is going to be critical of things, so let me just start by saying I have loved and listened to Taylor since I was 8, so none of it is said lightly or without careful thought (in fact, this took me absurdly long to write). Most of the issues I have are very near to my heart, actually, so I've spent a lot of time thinking about it. If you don't want to read criticism, then just don't read more. DISCLAIMER that I did my best, but not even this fully captures the nuance I feel able my own opinions lol I recognize the other sides and points, I really do. I hold many conflicting opinions.

The short version is I will always love her music and her voice and she is capable of writing absolutely gorgeous lyrics (dare I say poetry?). I don't tend to think too much about the sound of it because if I like the sound, it's all I really care about—maybe it sounds the same as other stuff, but if I like that other stuff, I don't really care about whether she branches out or not. I think it's great and interesting when she (or anyone) does, but I also don't like change so it doesn't matter to me the way I know it matters to some people. That's just me!

What gets more complicated for me is the narrative, themes, and general trends that have been more prominent the last year or so, and that's what the rest of my thoughts are. It's me enjoying the music while also being acutely aware of all the grief tangled up in it because of how much less connected I feel in many ways.

Side note: this got soooo much longer than even I expected and it still just scratches the surface! so if you decide to read, 1. thank you, and 2. I'd love to keep talking to you. 🤍

———————————————————— 💭

I am an overthinker (shocking!) and will for sure be annoyed that I can't think of each and every thing I think about this album, but this is what comes to mind right now. Some things that have stood out to me more and more with each release:

a tendency to write self-aware lyrics that, in trying to be self-aware, betray somewhat of a lack of self-awareness

a frustration with never growing up that she expresses while also not realizing the way she is complicit in that and her own refusal to grow up

considering herself the victim, particularly after "overcoming" the accusations that she always plays the victim

venturing more boldly into the territory of serious mental illness/suicidal ideation/mental health treatment despite demonstrating a fair amount of ignorance regarding those things in the past

fame going to her head (in the sense of her becoming further and further out of touch) and the entitlement in a lot of the more immature attitudes that come across in these songs

self-awareness: for me, the first example that comes to mind is Anti-Hero: "it's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me." It's a claim at self-awareness because she's poking fun at the fact that she knows people always say "maybe she's the problem." The reason why it feels to me like it exposes a lack of self-awareness is because she explores it mostly as a criticism to overcome and not a valid point of self-reflection. @jakeperalta's tags on her post explain it better than I do. Yes, there's an issue when you reduce every feeling to "well maybe she's the problem," but part of growth is admitting that maybe you are part of the problem and coming to terms with the fact that there is often some inevitable truth to that statement—and being willing to work on it. This example is from Midnights, but I think it ties into the next point.

immaturity/never growing up: I actually think these first two sections are just two parts of one section, but it's easier to read this way anyway. There are lots of references to not growing up on this album, the first that come to mind being "So High School" and "teenage petulance." Maybe it's just me, but as a 34-year-old woman, I wouldn't want to be feeling "so high school." I mean, as a 25-year-old, when I talk about feeling like my high school self, it's usually because I'm recognizing how limited my judgment and self-awareness was in high school (despite all the therapy and my efforts to be self-aware in high school). And I am aware of my own bias here—I absolutely hate the football game days because I didn't even like watching people act like that in high school, but at least they were high schoolers—but I do think part of what we've seen is Travis allowing her to be more immature and take less responsibility because that's also where he is at. Obviously I don’t speak to it with any authority since I don't know what happened in the relationship, but based on her behaviors and what I know about Joe (which is VERY little), I kind of get the feeling that part of what she didn't like about being with Joe is that he pushed her to grow. "Your integrity makes me seem small," etc. etc., but not in an “I want to grow” way, but not liking that feeling because she shouldn't have to feel small just because she wants to be able to only do what makes her happy. Just looking at the difference in her behavior and the fact that it seems like she's stopped trying to learn (Miss Americana-ish), it seems like she very much resents the responsibility that comes with being such a famous person and mainly considers herself a victim of her fame.

victimhood: to an extent, yes, she is a victim of her fame. No one should have that much fame and power, and of course she didn't sign up for it in this way. But wanting to have the kind of influence and reach that most artists desire is intertwined with fame. There isn't a way to separate it (in an ideal world, maybe, but that isn't what we're dealing with) and it's something that, to some degree, artists do sign up for. And I think she resents that she's expected to take any sort of responsibility for anything that she doesn't want to do, in a very, "but that's not fair!," teenage petulance kind of way. She even says in Sweet Nothing that "I'm just too soft for all of it." We're all too soft for all of it, but that doesn't mean we get to ignore it. It bothers me that she doesn't seem to feel any sort of responsibility to use this giant platform to do better. Everyone is aware of her influence, including her. I think that's part of the grief. No, it is not her job to use her platform for good, but I thought that it was something she valued and something she wanted. The other line that really stuck out to me was from Cassandra: "They say what doesn't kill you makes you aware, what happens if it becomes who you are?" You may be a victim of what doesn't kill you, but if it becomes who you are, that's not their fault. It reminds me a bit of the exhaustion of living with mental illness. For me in particular, it affects my relationships in a very fundamental way, and there are days that I sob because I am exhausted of things that are so normal being so, so difficult for me... but even though I didn't ask for it and it's not fair that this happened to me, it's still my responsibility to understand how my issues affect how I show up in relationships. It's still my problem, even though it isn't my fault that it's my problem. And if you're lucky, you find really beautiful people who are willing to help you and see that it's not their responsibility, but they want to make it easier for you—I recognize how lucky I am to have some people like that, but it never makes it anyone else's problem. If they decide one day it's not their problem, the truth is that it isn't (and then there's a more complex conversation about what you want to do to preserve a relationship). This is also very connected to something about Kate Beckett/why I identify with that character, and I can touch on that if anyone wants to know, but I don't really have cohesive thoughts about that prepared (it makes more sense if you already know the character). This also goes to other things, like her being upset that people always focus on who songs are about while ignoring the part she played in feeding that culture (like with secret messages).

mental health: this goes to a bigger discussion of how we turn to celebrities who are HIGHLY unqualified to have opinions on things for guidance (the nuance of the above discussion about using your platform), but the more she ventures into the discussion of mental illness, the more upset I get by some remarks she has made in the past. And yes, people grow, she may not feel this way anymore, but nothing in her behavior gives me any reason to believe that she doesn't still have this attitude. This is one that I know I have to be careful of because of how personal it is for me (I've been placed on a 5150 "danger to self" hold and I am a therapist), but one interview that has always made me so upset is that one where she talks about how she's never been to therapy, then ends it by saying "I feel like we just had a therapy session." She has said multiple times how she has never wanted to go to therapy when she has her mom, who already knows everything about her. And that is highly irritating to me because 1. that's why she's your MOM, not your THERAPIST, and 2. there's already so much stigma and apprehension around therapy and many people feel this way, so to have someone like Taylor Swift validate all the people who say "I'd rather talk to someone who already knows me" or "so and so is my therapist" is unbelievably frustrating. There's a reason it's unethical to treat people you know—that isn't therapy. And I think I wouldn't be so bothered by it if she didn't speak about it with such authority, like she knows what she's talking about when what she's saying shows that she doesn't (edit: this is specifically in regard to therapy, not mental illness. I am highly aware that anyone can be mentally ill). The other thing about this album is that it does seem to be an album about loving people with mental illness, and I've already seen a lot of interpretations that simply feed the narrative that people with mental illness are unlovable and mental illness is the reason people mistreat you (particularly the discussion about her lovers being blue all the time). And the issue with that is it's already a common misconception among people with mental illness, that their mental illness is an excuse or reason why they don't treat people right. It's disrespectful to the people who recognize that they have a mental illness that affects how they interact with others and choose to try to overcome it. I'm all for honest discussions about mental illness, but it's so disheartening when it happens on such a large scale and some of the loudest voices are people who don't know enough to know how to (at least try to) do no harm.

fame: I'm not really going to go into it because this has already turned out way longer than I meant for it to, but also because I feel like it's already been touched on. For me, it's the conversation about her feeling she should be able to just do what she wants. I think we all feel that way, but because of her fame and the fact that she's just about untouchable (as shown in how she came back from being cancelled), she can just tune everyone out. But one example was how uneasy I felt about this album being announced at the grammys. For one thing, it's not a fan-voted award, so even if it should, it doesn't feel the same. And regardless of your take on award shows, I do think it showed a level of insensitivity to the other artists who haven't won a bunch of grammys to decide that she would announce a new album at the grammys. Because even if she had a backup plan and said she didn't plan on it, the truth is that, to decide to have a backup plan, you did have to count on it happening, at least to an extent. You had to feel it was likely enough that you wanted to have a back up plan just in case, but it probably would go the way you wanted. To me, it just felt so... disrespectful. Because for many other artists, it doesn't happen more than once. (not to mention the many other things happening that got completely overshadowed, like Annie Lennox calling for a ceasefire)

So if you read all that... I don't even know what the point is at this point. These are just thoughts that, to me, don't feel right to simply ignore. I know there's an argument that you can enjoy music without enjoying where it came from, and it's true to an extent, but I also think part of the music is where it comes from. So... I don't know. Do with that what you will. And if you are reading this, I love you (I can't believe you're reading this).

#ttpd #tswift #low key mutuals you might not want to read this

[ynbabe]

Lockwood & Co. Incorrect quotes, pt.6

Before Lucy 

Y/n: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free: pouring river water in your socks! Anthony: Why would I do that? Y/n: It’s quick, it’s easy, and it’s free!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

*The Squad is eating dinner* George: Can you pass the salt? Anthony: *throws Y/n across the table*

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

George, after Anthony did something stupid: You should have realised, Anthony, if Y/n didn't kill you, I would have.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: When will Ted himself...finally show up to the talk? Anthony: The final boss. George: You guys know TEDtalks stands for technology, entertainment, and design talks, right? Y/n: I will not let Ted hide behind these lies any longer!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Anthony, in love: How do you do that? Y/n, after having done something dumb: I'm fearless. George, having introduced the idiots and now regretting it: When we were kids, I saw you run from bees. You flailed around and tripped over a chair. It was both hysterical and sad. Y/n: I'm mostly fearless.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: My aesthetic is "would be sentenced to the chair by DEPRAC."

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Who hurt you? Anthony, always on the edge of a mental breakdown: *snorting* What, do you want a list? Y/n, pulling out ALOT of iron/silver weapons: ...Yes, actually.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Anthony: Why would you think any of this was a good idea?! Y/n: Probably because I’m a dangerous sociopath with a long line of violence. Anthony: Oh... George, from across the room: *from across the room* I don’t understand how you keep forgetting that.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: It’s not gonna work, I’m not a snitch. George: Fine, let's try something else. Tag a friend you recently committed a crime with. Y/n: Lmao, @Anthony.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Anthony: I hate you. Y/n: Well, according to this picture I drew of us holding hands, that is untrue.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Anthony, after a fight with Y/n: The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was changing her name to Y/n.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n, grave-robbing: I’m going to hell. Anthony, there for a case: Probably. Y/n: I'll pick you up? Anthony: *nodding* Carpool.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Anthony, pissed : Y/n! I thought you were dead! Y/n, back after running away for a year: No, just in deep cover. Anthony, about to lose his mind: ...But it was an open casket. Y/n, little scared now: It was very deep.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Hold on, I can explain! Anthony: Really? Can you now? Y/n: I can if you give me a minute to think of a convincing lie.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Since Lucy

George, trying to joke: Hey, Joe said he's coming over this afternoon. Y/n, expecting a ‘delivery’: Cool. George: Do you know who Joe is? Y/n: JOE MAMA! Anthony, not even looking up from his phone: Damn, that backfired.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n, just back home: Do you cook? Lucy: I made a cake once. Anthony: Yeah, it was good. Lucy: Really? Anthony: Don’t make me lie twice, Luce.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n, back from sneaking around for state secrets: Anthony! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover. Anthony, pissed at her: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Anthony: For most of human history, vehicles had automatic collision avoidance and could even take you home if you were asleep or drunk. But then we got rid of the horse. George: You complete moron. You stupid fucking idiot. "Cars would be better if they could bite and shit" – that was you just now, dumbass. George: "Wouldn't it be cool if cars could piss? Wouldn't it be cool if cars could fuck?" Fuck off. Y/n: It would be cool if cars could fuck. Lucy: We... We still have horses.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Anthony, to Y/n, since they’re sharing a room,: I'm leaving for the weekend, so I hid 100 dollars in your side of the room for food. Clean your side and you will find it.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Lucy: It’s funny how well you and George get along. Didn’t they hate you at first? Y/n: George hates everybody at first. It’s their way of reaching out to people.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: I just found out from Lucy today that when I ‘died’ and George threw my weapons in the grave, Anthony said, “You should aim one at the coffin to be sure.”

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: I give up. I am so tired. George: Get the emergency supply! Lucy: *carries Anthony and throws him in front of Y/n* Anthony: *smiles* Y/n: AND I AM BACK BABY, LET’S GOOO

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #lucy carlyle #George Karim #lockwood & co #x reader #lockwood x reader

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Adoration

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem. Reader

Summary : You and Aemond have gotten married, and are off for your wedding night. How will it go for you both?

Themes : Soft | Slow burn | Smut

Warnings : Aegon trying to be a loathsome cad | Height difference | Kissing | Foreplay | Oral (f. receiving)| Dirty talk | First time |  Penetrative sex |

Word count : 5.4k  words

Minors DNI | 18+

Translation: 

Kēlītsos - Kitten

This is the final one-shot of three separate fanfics, this time featuring Aemond. I’ve changed several things, and I hope you all enjoy it. 

Want to be tagged? Want to know the reader request rules? Read all here

All eyes were on you and your husband, some staring so intently you could feel holes being burnt into your back.

The prince, on the other hand, seemed to pay the gawking no mind. He kept one arm firmly around your waist, holding you as close to him as possible as the two of you made your way around the floor, your right hand snug in his left. And so small, compared to his. The prince was so tall, towering over you, your head not even reaching his chin. He had barely uttered a sentence the entire time, save for the vows he said in front of the High Septon.

And you had been warned about it. Aemond was a private man they said, given to few words. You were warned of other things too, that the prince preferred books and swordplay and solitude to anything else. You even experienced some of it, the silence, the guarded looks, the respectful distance. You sighed, determined to make the best of your circumstances.

“Are you alright?” He asked suddenly. “Is something troubling you?”

You had caught the king leering, his eyes half-filled with anger, his fingers white at the joints, and stiffened. “Nothing, husband,” you swallowed, hoping not to offend by complaining about his brother. For good and for ill, Aegon was kin, after all. “I’m fine.”

“Please do not lie to me,” Aemond whispered as his gaze skimmed over the floor, looking for the source of your sudden discomfort. When he caught Aegon staring, in front of his own wife no less, he ground his teeth. Aegon was never one for subtlety, he thought with disgust. “And do not fear my brother. Aegon is coming nowhere near you.”

How was that even going to be possible tonight? “But the bedding ceremony…” You had heard of this strange Westerosi custom and dreaded it. The thought of that lecherous king coming anywhere near you made you dread it even more. 

“I did away with it, made it clear that I won’t subject you to such a humiliation. And as my mother would tell you, I did it in the least polite way imaginable.” Aemond leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Why do you think the king looks like he’d swallowed a live toad?”

His confession made you gasp, then giggle. “You threatened the king?” you tsked and whispered. “Very bad form, husband.”

Aemond’s eye twinkled, a rare thing with him. “You’re wrong, wife. I didn’t threaten the king. I just… educated him on all the things that could go wrong as he went about his day.”  

That was the end to further talking as others joined the dancing. The two of you continued to sway to the music, wrapped in a bubble of blissful silence. Aemond’s thoughts circled to what was to happen later when the two of you retired for the night.

He kept thinking of that night over a decade ago when Aegon thought it fit to take, no, drag him over to the pleasure house. The woman in question was skilled and showed him many things, but Aemond never truly cared for it and just wanted the night to end. He never went back, only ever kept one bedmate and no more. He turned to you, doubt plaguing him, worrying him. He prayed to all the gods who would listen that he didn’t ruin tonight. For now, though, he would content himself with running a thumb over your fingers, rubbing his hand over your back as the two of you danced. He swallowed when you leaned into him, his heartbeat roaring in his ears when you tucked your head under his chin.

You took a steadying breath when you felt his thumb rubbing over yours. Aemond was called a monster by many, ruthless and vengeful, yet here he was, being gentle with you, putting an end to something you knew you weren’t going to look forward to. But did that mean he’d be considerate in other ways as well? You heard the stories, of how some husbands took their pleasures without care or consideration, like the king, but would Aemond be like them? Or would he be different?

“What are you thinking about, wife?”

You look up at him, stunned by him talking again. “I,” you licked your lips nervously, heat blooming in your cheeks when his gaze drifted to your mouth. A thousand excuses flashed before your eyes. “I was thinking about…” do not lie to me, he’d insisted. You sighed, deciding to be truthful. “tonight. A-after the feast, I mean.”

Aemond focused on your lips, and how they moved with each word. “I was thinking about it also,” he somehow managed, his gaze moving up quickly. “But there’s no need for you to worry.” His gaze slowly drifted to your lips again, his mind haunted with visions of your mouth opening under his. “I won’t hurt you. I promise.”

"I will hold you to that," you mumbled tartly, your hands flying to your mouth when you realized what you said. "Forgive me, husband, my tongue got the better of me, and--"

Aemond took your hands back into his as a new dance started. "Please don't fear me," He pleaded softly. "Many people already fear me, my wife shouldn't be one of them."

The prince is bound to have some goodness in him, you were reminded of your mother's words, the ones she told you when your parents first talked to you about the engagement. Try to see it.

Stopping the bedding ceremony, asking you not to fear him, promising to be gentle with you. Were those glimmers of the goodness you were asked to seek?

A hand gliding over your back startled you and made your head reel. A sound blew out on your next breath, soft and dreamy, something between a whimper and a soft sigh. Aemond melted when he heard that dreamy sigh. He wanted the feast to end and for everyone to leave. Between you arriving in Kings Landing and everything turning into a flurry of wedding preparations and heavily chaperoned outings, he didn't have a chance to truly be alone with you, and he was counting the minutes to do so.

                              ✵✵✵

There were speeches.

Followed by the finest Arbor wines.

Followed by more speeches. One such was a particularly long and boring lecture from the High Septon. Several guests came close to nodding off. When your eyes grew heavy, your head started to droop, and you muttered quietly, "Now I know why people call him warm milk." You could have sworn Aemond chuckled under his breath.

“That’s probably the kindest thing people have called him,” he mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear, making you smile. 

Finally, it was over, much to everyone’s visible relief. 

Then, a large, elaborately decorated cake had to be wheeled into the feasting hall. You take in the sight of the cake as it is brought over slowly, inch by inch, trying to figure out how much such a confection would have cost. Clearly, the royal family had spared no expense for the ceremony and the feast. "To remind everyone who is in charge," you had heard one guest mumbling to another. "Especially those who supported the blacks."

The hint seemed to have been well received, judging by some of the looks in the crowd.

You went forward with Aemond to cut the cake. Again, you had to place your hand in his, as he held out his sword. Dark Sister, the one he won after slaying Daemon Targaryen, in a battle that nearly cost him his life and the life of his dragon, Vhagar. The sword was light, clearly made for a woman. Ripples in the blade seemed to gleam and then grow darker as if they were absorbing the surrounding light. There was magic here, and the blood of countless souls. You shivered. "Don’t be afraid," Aemond whispered. "It’s just a sword."

You wanted to roll your eyes. Just a sword, he says. Right.

The blade came down, and the cake was cut. Aemond’s hand seemed to warm over yours, keeping your grip steady as steel bit into soft cake. You would have relished eating as much cake as you wanted but you couldn't do it. The cake meant the feast was about to end, and the two of you would depart for your wedding night. Still, you made yourself eat a slice as all eyes were on you. Aemond toyed with his, moving pieces about with his fork, his eyes darting around the hall. He seemed to be as nervous as you.

Aemond looked around, waiting for the cake to be served and for the feast to end. He caught you eating, daintily gliding your lips over the pads of your fingers, picking up cake crumbs and bits of icing. Seven help him, but the very sight of you doing it made him dizzy, made him crave your lips on his. When the Master of Ceremonies signaled an end to the festivities, Aemond was the first to stand up. 

"Come, wife. It is time," said Aemond, as he helped you out of your chair. You take his hand, your palm going cold and clammy out of nervousness. There was a reassuring squeeze as if telling you everything was going to be well. When you turned to him, you could have sworn Aemond winked. 

The king stood up with the rest, abruptly left his table, and made his way toward you both. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Otto Hightower quickly jumping out of his chair and making his way over. 

"Brother," Aegon smiled brightly for everyone's benefit, but you weren't fooled. You could still see anger in his eyes. He wasn’t pleased with being denied, that was obvious. "Congratulations again on your nuptials."

Aemond put himself in front of you, trying to block Aegon’s view. His sword arm inched towards the hilt of Dark Sister. "Thank you, brother." He forced himself to respond, his words dripping with ice. "For your wishes."

Aegon, now resorting to a leer that made you shrink back, did not attempt to leave. "I hope you’ll be staying here, in the Red Keep?"

"No." That was one thing that pleased Aemond, saying no to Aegon. "On the morrow, I’ll be taking my bride with me to Driftmark."

The seat of the now-extinct House Velaryon. Aemond had been given lordship over it after the war. Having repelled Myrish and Tyroshi attempts to overtake the island, he’d proven himself worthy of the title.

"You're taking y/n and leaving?" Aegon hissed indignantly. "What the fuck for?"

First the leering, now this. "Why does that concern you, your grace?" Angered by his brother’s lack of respect towards their sister and you, Aemond took a step forward, forcing Aegon back away. The king wilted when the white-hot need to murder burned in his brother's eye. You rushed to Aemond's side, wondering if it was wise to intervene and potentially create a scene.

In the end, Otto saved you from making that choice by quickly coming between the two brothers. "It doesn’t grandson," he smiled grandly, desperate blue eyes resting on his second grandson. "His grace is merely being curious, that is all."

“Curious, mmm. Interesting choice of words though, don’t you agree...” Aemond turned to his grandfather, trailing off when Otto looked at him as if begging him to stand down. Everyone was watching, Aegon especially, and with scheming eyes. Not wanting to leave you exposed or vulnerable, Aemond ground his jaw and composed himself. By tomorrow the two of you would be on Vhagar’s back, flying to your new home. Aegon would never come to Driftmark for he loathed life on the island, and Aemond had little interest in life at court. "Of course, grandfather," he said. "We will bid you both goodnight."

As you walked away you caught snippets of Otto Hightower giving a quiet but sharp dressing down to the king. “So the rumours are true?” Unable to help yourself, you asked when the others were well out of hearing. “Your grandfather is the only person who could truly control your brother?”

Aemond just sighed in defeat. So much for their efforts in concealing the miseries of his immediate family. “I’m afraid so,” he said, as he escorted you from one corridor to another, up stairways, and through different rooms. There was no point in hiding such things from you. You were his wife now and bound to hear more as time went on.

The very notion filled you with dread. “Then what happens, husband, when Lord Hightower dies?”

Aemond had considered the possibility of the realm falling into chaos once his grandfather has passed on and he had no interest of sticking around and cleaning more of Aegon’s messes. Within a week of your arrival in Kings Landing Aemond started making plans, to take you with him to your own country the moment Otto Hightower’s body was put into the ground. “Let’s just hope the king follows him not long after.”

                            ✵✵✵

Aemond’s chambers were airy, with balconies that opened to the sea. The air here smelled subtly of salt. 

You walked out and looked out into the night. Under the light of a full moon, you could see a large hump on the adjoining strip of the beach. There was a low, deep, rumble, the hump went up and down as if it were breathing. "Vhagar," Aemond said, almost startling you. "She finds it harder to wake up now."

You could hear it, the faint tinge of sadness in his voice. Vhagar came into life when he was older than the others, a dragon only a few had been able to claim. Vhagar was far too old now, too slow, her fighting days well and truly behind her.

"Fighting Caraxes weakened her, left her with wounds that never truly healed,” Aemond looked on fondly at the beast that had carried him throughout the war. "The Maesters are giving her three more years. Five, if we’re lucky."

"Just three years?" The last living connection to the conqueror and his sisters, the last true war dragon, snuffed out in three years. "And will she be strong enough to take us to Driftmark?"

"We have to use her. Otherwise, the old lady will never let me hear the end of it if I leave her here and she has to follow me to Driftmark." Not wanting to think about Vhagar’s demise, Aemond went back inside and got a fire going to steady his jangled nerves. "But enough of that. Why don’t you come inside, mmm?"

There were butterflies in your belly when Aemond took off his boots and removed his rings. You gulped and went in, walking towards the four-poster bed, your hands working on the clasps of your dress. You felt his eye on you, watching your every move. Aemond could tell you were nervous by your fingers struggling with the clasps, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He came over, his hands gently pulling yours away. "Let me," he said. 

You stand still, your cheeks burning, as your dress loosens around your body. "You’re still frightened," Aemond murmured. "Why?"

You had been trembling despite your efforts to calm your nerves. "I—I’ve never been with anyone before and…"

"No handsome stableboy stealing your kisses? No," He cut you off and ground his teeth, as a sharp pang of jealousy stabbed him in the gut. "Dashing sellsword winning your favours?"

How it pleased you so, seeing him worked up like this. You felt tempted to say yes, just to see what his reaction would be like, but you stuck to the truth instead. "No." 

"But you’re Myrish," said Aemond, as he undid the last of the clasps. His hands then moved up to slip the dress down your arms. Goosebumps spread over your skin when his hands glided down your exposed flesh. "I thought your people were – freer – so to speak, with their affections."

"Not all of us, no." You stepped out of the dress that had now pooled around your ankles, your body only covered in a thin silk shift. "And I have heard of your," you remained motionless once more, this time as large hands reached back to undo the braids and coils in your hair. "Reputation."

Aemond arched a brow, his violet eye glinting in the moonlight. “My reputation, wife?” His eye gleamed as a braid came loose, and there was a soft ping, of a clip hitting the ground. "And what kind of reputation is that, mmm?"

"That you’re a kinslayer." More braids and coils came undone, allowing your hair to flow freely around you. "That you’ve done terrible things during the war."

Aemond let his fingers curl around your hair. How many nights had he lain awake, dreaming of all the times he could run his fingers run through your hair. "The gossips are right, wife. I am a kinslayer, a murderer.” He turned around, so you could undo the single braid in his hair. Having to stand on the tips of your toes wasn’t easy, but you did it. Aemond closed his eye when your palms glided over his shoulders. He swallowed, counting the minutes till he could feel your hands all over his body. "I've killed more people than I could care to count during the war. Cursed by the gods, that’s what I am. I’m vengeful, always carrying a grudge, always wanting to settle debts against those who wronged me."

You trembled when he turned to you again. "But I could be just your monster," he whispered as he took off his coat, and his tunic, leaving his chest bare. "If you let me."

The large pink scar that covered most of his torso was hard to miss. A burn no doubt, a parting gift from Caraxes and the Rogue Knight. Temptation came over you. You let your hand glide up his chest, your heart thrilling when Aemond whispered don’t stop under his breath. "Just my monster?" You asked, your cheeks flushing again when Aemond removed his belt and threw it to the ground. 

"Not just your monster." He shook his head, curling a finger under your chin, tilting it up. Aemond, thinking it best not to remove his eye patch on the first night, dithered on what to do next. Should he lean in and kiss you? Should he scoop you up and carry you to bed? Or perhaps he should loosen his tongue and tell you all the things he had wanted to say since he first saw you. "I wish to be so much more to you."

"Oh?" You grew nervous when he turned you around and moved your hair to one side, so he could undo the lacings on the back of your shift. "L-like what, husband?"

“I wish to be so good to you.” You calling him husband, how Aemond enjoyed hearing it. "I could be your shelter from the storm." Aemond pulled out the last of the laces and slipped a shoulder strap down your arm. His arms hooked around your waist, and hands callused by years of fighting and dragon-riding rested over your tummy. "To be the sworn shield that strikes down all who try to hurt you." 

It felt like your bones turned to water when Aemond pressed his face against the nape of your neck, brushing his nose over your skin. He worked on the other shoulder strap, gradually loosening your shift until it slid down to your waist. “I want to be your island of peace,” Aemond mumbled as you stood perfectly still, your nervousness slowly crumbling to dust when soft kisses pressed against your skin, warming it wherever they landed. “Even when the rest of the world is falling apart.”

 “W-what else?” you hummed when his fingers curled over your belly. You couldn’t see it, the flash of need in his eye when he held you flush against him. You could only feel him, how his body trembled with every breath he took, how warm his skin felt against yours. How good would it feel to surrender to him, you thought, as you closed your eyes and tilted your head to the side. "Tell me more. Please."

Aemond’s tongue loosened even more and he didn't care. If he couldn't confess to his wife then what was the point of being married? “I want to love you. To worship you.” Your eyes flew wide open at the revelation. Everything he just told you was a revelation, but this both shocked and pleased you. “I want you to come to me,” Aemond whispered, his hot breath against your ear sending tingles up your spine. “With everything. Your dreams. And your fears. And your lusts.”

You collapsed into him when he cupped your breasts, his fingers gently playing with soft buds that puckered under his touch. His name rolled off your tongue in a gasp.

Oh, that was all he ever wanted to hear that night and every night after that. His name, rolling past your lips.

Aemond kept touching you, letting his hands glide all over your stomach, the cleft between your breasts, your arms, before moving to your breasts again in slow, teasing caresses. Heat pooled in your core, warmth spread all over your skin as those large hands caressed and squeezed, as his lips latched onto the crook of your neck, gently sucking at the soft flesh.

Feeling you go lax in his arms, your body open to all that he was doing, proved too sinful and enticing for Aemond and he gave in, his hands pulling down on your shift, yanking it past your waist until it fell to the ground, gathering around your ankles in a puddle of fabric. You were so small next to him, he could picture himself carrying you to bed and easily tossing you around as he had his way with you, but not yet. Not until you were comfortable with him and trusted him completely. “I am yours, kēlītsos,” he crooned against your neck, your trembles intoxicating his senses like a heady drug. “All that I have, and all that I am, is yours.”

With that, he whipped you around and dragged you in for a kiss. Your head reeled, your lips yielding to his, soft purrs rising from the back of your throat when his tongue slipped past your parted lips, eager to savour the warmth of your mouth. “As I’m yours,” you heard yourself murmur between kisses. “Now and always, husband.”

Aemond groaned into his kiss. He could already feel it, the arousal in his loins, his body overcome with the need to take all you were willing to give him. When your arms wrapped around his waist he walked you backward, not stopping until you were right up against the bed. “Get in bed,” He cooed, his hands going to work on lace cords. “And lie back.”

You moved up to the pillows, your eyes never leaving his. Aemond peeled off his breeches, a smile tugging at his lips when you blushed furiously and looked away. “Look at me, kēlītsos,” Aemond said gently, as he made his way to you.

Your lessons in High Valyrian had been so few, your grasp of the language so weak. You knew only the basics, Kēlītsos being one of them. Kitten, it meant. “Why do you call me that?” You croaked when he hovered over you, his thighs pushing yours apart as he settled between your legs. “Kēlītsos?”

“Because I want to,” Aemond let his hand glide up your calf, along the inside of your thigh, his breath shuddering as his palm skimmed over soft, supple skin. He knew your body was soft, he felt it while dancing, but he didn’t think it would be this soft. "Does it displease you?” Fear overtook him. Had he made a mistake by calling you that? “I- I could say something else if you like.”

And there had been your family, warning you not to anger him tonight. Oh, if you could only tell them, how their fears were unfounded. “I- I don’t mind,” you trembled when his fingers, callused and hardened after years of fighting, drifted up your belly. “Really.”

 Aemond smiled, really smiled, his entire face lighting up with pleasure. “Good. Then that is what I’ll call you then. But when we’re alone, yes?”

“Yes...” the rest of your answer was cut off when his lips found yours, slow, drugging kisses that robbed you of the very air that you breathed. Your fingers found their way to his hair, to soft locks that seemed to slip through like water. His lips were so soft, his tongue wet and warm as it traced over your lips, his teeth sharp as they gently grazed your lips, leaving them bruised and puffy and you aching when he pulled away. Wet kisses skimmed over your chin and glided over your throat. When you groaned and arched your back he grew bolder, his lips moving lower, leaving a wet trail over your ribcage, your belly, moving along your hips, the insides of your thighs. “A-ae-mond,” you groaned, your fingers scrabbling for purchase against the sheets when his mouth moved to your center, his tongue flicking gently on your wet slit.

The prince moaned when your legs moved over to his shoulders, when your hands got all bunched up in his hair. He massaged your thighs as his tongue pressed deeper into your throbbing pussy, delighting in your babbling, your desperate pleas. An arm moved over to your abdomen and pinned you down even as he pressed his mouth even deeper into your cunt, savouring the very essence that was you. When you bucked your hips he growled and rubbed his thumb over your clit, whimpering, "Let go for me. Please let go for me."

Everything about him shocked you, from his tenderness out there in the hall, to his fire in here, in bed. You felt foolish for being afraid of him, for thinking he'd treat you the way he treated many others. Aemond had been wanting you to trust him, to share pleasure with him, and you could see yourself being genuinely happy with him. All sense of timidness deserted you and the air was thickly peppered with, “more aemond… right there aemond… harder aemond… aemond please.”

"Fuck," Aemond growled when you bucked into him again, when your legs clamped down over his shoulders as if not wanting him to move. He grabbed onto your thighs, discretely looking over at you. Seeing you arching your back, your eyes fluttering with each spasm that rippled over you, shook him. Never had he felt such hunger for a single person, not even with Alys, and Alys was the closest he had come to care for someone. This was different. No, he decided. This wasn't just different, it was so much more, something much stronger, the kind only poets wrote about. He mumbled in High Valyrian, words he'd never dreamt of saying to anyone. When you were safely situated in Driftmark, he'd tell you what they meant. 

Aemond then felt it, the slow coiling of your muscles, the growing trembles in your thighs. You were close, so close. 

No, he thought. Not tonight. Tonight he wanted you to first cum on his cock.

“Not this way, Kēlītsos.” Aemond pulled away and cleaned his lips with the edge of the sheet. He kissed his way back up to you, groaning when your legs slid open and rested against his thighs. He kissed you, his lips gently pulling at yours, purring when you sucked on his tongue. His hands held your hips steady as he drove into your center, his cock slowly stretched your slick walls. 

It hurt. You were prepared for it, but it still hurt. Aemond did his best to distract you, kissing you senseless, not giving a single word of complaint when your nails dug into his shoulders as he sank his full length into your aching cunt. The moan that followed when he claimed your maidenhead was deep and throaty. You felt wave upon wave of pleasure, and not just by your velvety walls clenching around his throbbing cock. You were now his wife in every way.

Kisses drifted over your eyelids as he hovered over you, giving you time to adjust to his presence inside you. “Are you comfortable, Kēlītsos?” Aemond brushed back your hair, his gaze filled with concern. “Do you want me to go on?”

You managed an eager nod,  ignoring the pain, the discomfort. “Yes.” You hooked your legs around his waist, savouring how full you felt with his cock inside you. “I’m ready for this.”

There was the barest hint of a smile. You closed your eyes and jolted when he moved, his thrust sending shockwaves and dragging out sharps gasps out of your mouth. As he began to rock back and forth, the pain slowly gave way, discomfort slowly gave way, pleasure slowly replaced all else, and all you could manage was to moan and mewl his name.

Aemond helped you up and had you straddling his lap as he pressed himself flush against you. This was so much better for you. Your hands reached out, touching, caressing, trying to match what Aemond was doing to you. Feeling your naked flesh against his, your nails raking down his back, your palms gliding over his scar, overwhelmed him. “You like this, don’t you, Kēlītsos?” He rasped into your ear. “Riding the dragon?”

Something about the way he said it aroused you greatly, made you crave to hear more. “Y-yes. I d-do.”

He chuckled breathily as he settled into a pace and rhythm you both liked. When Aemond was not telling you of the things he wanted to do to you, he was kissing you. And when he was not kissing you he let a hand glide over your body, grabbing onto your breasts, thighs, and ass, leaving bruises in its wake. You could only cling to him as he brought you closer, your walls pulsing all too intensely around his cock. “D-don’t s-stop,” you plead even as you arched into him. “P-please… p-please d-don’t stop.”

Aemond pushed you back into bed and quickly propped himself on his hands, slamming his hips, grinding them against the insides of your thighs, the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the air. You managed to hold onto enough focus, your hips driving back to meet his thrusts, your feet scrabbling for purchase against his back. Your hips kept driving back, not stopping, and your muscles coiled tight like they were about to snap. You push back one last time, and those coiled muscles shattered, the world skidding to an immediate halt as your orgasm ripped through you.

 Aemond felt it, heard it. Your body trembling violently under his, his name blowing past your lips in a half-moan, half-cry. He was far from done and growled, “Hold on Kēlītsos, hold on.” He thrust harder and faster, as his body plunged hard and plunged deep, barely holding on for a few more seconds. When he came it was with a deep, final thrust and an even deeper, satisfying grunt. He kept still while his seed continued to spill into your womb.

You swallowed as your heartbeat slowed and the world slowly started to come into focus. You hear the curtains rustling with the night breeze and the popping and cracking of firewood in the hearth. You felt Aemond moving, his weight shifting as he slowly collapsed next to you. He was exhausted, his chest heaving, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He reached over, pulling you to him, his hands brushing off the beads of sweat that had started to form over your skin. Exhausted but replete, you make yourself comfortable in the crook of his arm. “This night went better than I dreamed, husband.”

Incredibly relieved that he hadn’t ruined this night for you, that he hadn’t messed up the start of his marriage, Aemond cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing your jawbone. His kisses were now soft, and tender. “Anything for you, Kēlītsos.” 

#aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #fanfiction #writeblr #aemond #house of the dragon x reader #one shots #aemond imagine

[respectthepetty]

Get To Know Me Tag

thanks for tagging me @telomeke and @dylogpenchester

Do you make your bed?

Yes, so my ass doesn't hop back into it!

What’s your favorite number?

3-6-9, and I blame Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz for that. "TO THE WINDOWS, TO THE WALLS!"

What is your job?

English teacher/instructor/professor, so I beat my ancestors' oppressors at their own game!

If you could go back to school, would you?

Lifelong learner, so I've never left school. Collecting these diplomas like Mariah Carey collects number one singles (with ease and unbothered).

Can you parallel park?

Yes. One-handed. While the other hand holds my cell phone, my tea, and the snack I'm munching on.

A job you had that would surprise people?

As a long-time vegetarian, it would surprise people that my first job was selling meat. Had no idea what any of it tasted like, but I could sell it and make gross men feel uncomfortable while doing it.

Do you think aliens are real?

I went to the UFO Festival during the 75th anniversary of the Roswell incident. What do you think?

Can you drive a manual car?

Do I know how to operate a stick? Only because I like saying it that way.

What’s your guilty pleasure?

I do not feel guilty about my pleasure.

Tattoos?

Heavens no! I'm afraid of needles. My ears aren't even pierced. But I love to admire them.

Favorite color?

YELLOW!

Favorite type of music?

I love all types of music (pop, country, electronic, rap, reggaeton, norteño, y todo), but I'm hella mad at how brief songs are today because I need four more minutes of GloRilla and Megan Thee Stallion saying "I don't wanna be saved, don't save me [. . .] You ain't my daddy. I'm not your baby"

Do you like puzzles?

Like trying to figure out where some people get the fucking audacity? Or who the fuck they think they're talking to? Yes. My favorite kinds of puzzles.

Any phobias?

It used to be the dark, but I embraced the darkness (aka I went to therapy)

Favorite childhood sport?

Playing? Softball (fast-pitched, not so much). Watching? Soccer.

Do you talk to yourself?

Who else would I talk to? God? Los santos? My ancestors? They don't need this smoke.

What movies do you adore?

Clueless, Pan's Labyrinth, Stardust, Esteros, A Walk in the Clouds, Wildhood, Another Gay Movie, The Best Man for this scene alone

Coffee or tea?

Tea. Coffee is burnt beans and taste like the ashes of Mother Nature. I wrote what I wrote.

First thing you wanted to be growing up?

Ms. Frizzle because her outfits were on theme, she understood the assignment, and she was never caught slacking. She is unmarried, has a Ph.D, an Ed.D, works in education teaching S.T.E.M., and has a pet lizard. I don't just want to be her; I want to be with her.

#get to know me #ask game #I will never tag #it makes me feel like I'm picking favorites #I could never #Youtube