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justtwotired · 9 months

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“Back the fuck off.”

Summary: you and Regulus recently broke up over stupid teenage reasons. It was a really bad fight and you two haven't spoken since, though both regret your actions. At a Gryffindor house party, he spots you kissing Mathew smith, the Gryffindor seeker, who Regulus absolutely despises.

Pairing: Regulus Black x Gryffindor!reader

Warnings: swearing, kissing, fighting, a bit of sexual assault.

⬇️unamused⬇️

Regulus stands at the drinks table with Barty as they are being pure Slytherins looking around with judging and cold looks. Neither of them wanted to come to said party, but Evan -who was currently participating in a round of beer pong- insisted they went.

His eyes travel the crowd and he spots them, making him narrow his eyes. He knew she was doing it to spite him, he knew even she hated Smith, but there she was, sticking her tongue down his throat.

"Ohh, she is playing with fire." Barty seemed to start enjoying the party the moment he followed Regulus gaze. "Shut the hell up." Regulus head snapped towards him and then his eyes traveled back to the girl and that stupid idiot she was kissing.

His hands where slowly starting to roam under her clothes and that's when he couldn't take it anymore and pushed himself of the table making his way towards them.

- 15 minutes earlier -

"They are absolute morons." Y/n shook her head as she watched Sirius and James jump of the table they'd just been dancing on. "Tell me about it." Remus rolled his eyes.

She took a sip of her drink as she watched the boys make their way over to them. "Oh, their coming pretend you don't know them." Peter said and they all quickly avoided eye contact with the two boys. "Oh haha, you're so funny." Sirius said sarcastically.

His eyes fell on Y/n and they narrowed. "Boring again, I see." He said as he eyed the glass with clear liquid in her hands. "But thinking about it, I could use some water," he took it out of her hands and a horrified expression formed on her face.

"Sirius no wait-" but she was to late and he took a sip and moments later spit it out, coughing. "Y/n, you absolutely menace to society." He said handing the glass back to her.

"Are you alright, pads?" James asked laughing. "I am, but she isn't, what psychopath just casually sips straight vodka." He grimaces and James' eyebrows race.

"What? It's good, you're all just over dramatic." She said taking another sip, making Peter chuckle a bit, as he himself had made that same mistake before.

They all looked up at the sound of the portrait swinging open and watched an excited Evan and annoyed Barty and Regulus walk into the common room.

Y/n rolled her eyes, and then they landed on someone and a smirk formed onto her face. "Y/n, no." Remus said and she looked at him. "What do you mean no?" She asked.

"Regulus just walked in and your wearing that smirk? Whatever your planning, no." He said and she rolled her eyes and giggled. "It's just a bit of fun." She said, standing up to leave the couch and pushing the glass into Sirius' hands.

"Here, you can have that." She says and he looks at it in disgust. "No thanks." And puts it down.

"Smith, hey." She greats the seeker and he turned to her. "Y/n, looking ravishing as always." He said with a shit eating grin as he looked her up and down and stopped at her chest.

She would slap him in the face if it wasn't for her plan just unfolding:

Make Regulus as jealous as possible.

"I can say the same about you." She said, her words slightly slurring. Smith took a step closer, snaking an arm around her waist. Everyone in Hogwarts who had a brain knew he had liked her since fourth year, which was one of the reasons Regulus despised him, but also the other way around.

Everyone in Hogwarts with a brain also knew Smith was an actual, selfish, prick. He had a reputation of cheating, one girl even claimed he had cornered her once, but no one knew if it was true, as she had a reputation of lying.

"I heard your single now." He grinned as he pulled her closer, his breath smelled like alcohol. "It was such a shame you where with... him." He sounded disgusted at the last words.

She let out a sarcastic laugh, starting to maybe regret her decision a little bit... but only a little.

"Well, that's over now... sooo." She trailed her finger passed his white button up. She looked up at him and he smashed his lips against hers, she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Her eyes fluttered open to look around the room and they landed on Regulus who wasn't looking at her as his eyes traveled around the room, but she could see them slowly make their way over to them and she closed her eyes again as Smith tongue slipped into her mouth.

They broke apart for a moment before they kissed again and slowly his hands started to travel, one slipping into her skirt and the other under her top.

His lips detached from hers and made their way to her neck and then he whispered in her ears. "Seeing such a beautiful girl like you with a Slytherin. Tsk, I'll show you what it's like to be with a real guy." He whispered before going back to kissing her neck and his hand suddenly slipped into her panty's.

She was taken by surprise but before she could do anything about it, someone else did.

Regulus had made his way trough the crowd, pushing people aside and watching as Smith went further into her skirt and kissing her neck, it made his blood boil.

"Back the fuck off." He said and Smith looked up and grinned, taking his hand out of her skirt, and Regulus almost thought she looked relieved.

They made eyes contact and he narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you want." She said, obviously with alcohol in her system. "Indeed, what do you want?" Smith asked as he put and arm around her waste and his finger tips rested under the band of her skirt.

"I want you, to get your filthy hands of her." Regulus said with a threatening tone. "And why would I do that? Such a pretty girl, and she isn't yours anymore? I wouldn't even have cared is she still was, I had plans anyway." He laughed dryly and Y/n looked rather horrified as she questioned if that would have been against her will.

"Leave her alone." Regulus demanded and Smith smirked. "And why would I do that, she seemed to be rather enjoying me."

Suddenly, Y/n started to really regret her decision, and grabbed his wrist to stop him from going any further. "What is it baby, you don't like it?" He asked and she sighed and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Stop, I want you to stop." She told him and he huffed. "You don't tell me when to stop." He said and pulled the hand on his wrist away with his other hand.

She knew she had gotten herself in this situation, it was her own fault, but now she really wanted to get out. Suddenly he let go of her and Y/n hadn't processed the sickening crack.

Regulus had punched him right in the nose and blood was rapidly streaming out. His grey eyes fell on Y/n who stared shocked.

He grabbed her arm and then dragged her out of the common room and eventually stopped in a hallway.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked angrily. "Do you know how much worse that could have been?" He asked, he was furious as he turned his back to her.

"Honestly, Y/n that was such a stupid move! And for what? Making me jealous? Well it worked, happy now?" He turned to her as he yelled, but stopped as he watched her.

Her hands where shaking and tears streamed down her face. His features softened as he walked towards her and took her hands in his, placing a soft kiss on each of them.

"It's alright." He whispered to her and she shook her head. "No, no it's not, I'm so sorry, it was a stupid move. I didn't think it trough." She said as more tears streamed down her face and she sniffed as her nose was now full and starting to run.

He wiped away the tears with his sleeve and kissed her on the forehead. "It's alright, Ma Cherie." He whispered as he hugged her. "Come, you need to get some sleep." He said and then led her over to the Slytherin dorms.

She was sitting on his bed as Regulus took a T-shirt and sweatpants out of his closet. He hands rested on her top and then looked at her. "May I help you here?" He asked and she nodded.

"Use your words, darling." He said softly, he always requested she used words when asking for her permission to do things like this, as he didn't want her to regret later.

"Yes." She croaked out and he slowly lifted it over her head and helped her pull the clean shirt over her head. He did the same with the pants and then tucked her into his bed.

He changed out of his clothes to, and joined her, pulling her into him and kissing her forehead. "I love you, my little dove." He said and she murmured something along the lines of "I love you too." Back before falling asleep.

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shit-talker · 3 months

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The 141 have a ridiculous run of inside jokes that is continuosly ruining their lives, such as;

1.) If someone says, "You love it really," to you, you immediately have to agree with them, no matter what the circumstances. Otherwise, you lose the ability to do it back. This has resulted in many weird fake confessions, including one time in which Soap got fed up with people making your mom jokes at him and went on a rant about it. Ghost glanced at him in front of a room full of cadets and just went, "You love it really, though," and Soap almost died as he sadly nodded and replied, "Yeah, I do."

2.) If something even remotely sexual sounding is said about you, you must always say, "You're damn right I do/am/will," back. This backfired once when they were in a defreif and Price said something about Gaz "coming through the back door" and Gaz, without think, winked and replied "You're damn right I did," In front of everyone and got in trouble for mild insubordination. (The others almost died laughing as he realised what he'd done, who he'd done it to, and who he'd done it in front of (aka Price's bosses))

3.) When talking about Roach, they will always act like he's died. He hasn't, but none of them can stop the joke, and it always makes all of them crack up, even Roach. This once caused major panic, as once when Ghost was discussing their latest mission with Laswell, he said, "It was fine because Roach - God rest his soul -" and Laswell had about two minutes where she thinks Roach has dropped dead and she didn't fucking know.

4.) They will always make up bad stories for how they met Ghost, if anyone ever asks. It doesn't matter what the truth is, or who they're speaking to, when asked, all three of them will reply with some made up, overly dramatic or down right boring story on how they met. These stories ranged from Ghost, saving them from a shark attack (Gaz), Ghost selling them assorted drugs as a teenager (Roach), and most devastatingly is when Soap told a distant relative of his that he met Ghost after "finding him with my older brother, behind his wifes back" he does not have an older brother, and so there is no wife.

5.) They always reference the "Malibu incident." None of them have ever been to Malibu. Nothing bad has ever happened there, but now they've created a whole conspiracy in the British Army about a coverup that happened in Malibu. Price knows about this one and finds it endlessly funny, so he goes along with it, never directly mentioning it but refusing to deny it when someone asks. If anyone ever asks about the details of it, they just give a deadpanned look as if the other person should already know and say; "Don't make me say it." There are rumours. Like, a lot of rumours.

6.) Roach claps every time someone says, "I'll be there for you" because once he clapped at the wrong time during the friends intro and had been paying the price ever since. It doesn't happen often, but sometimes you'll just hear him clapping - not even in the tune to the friends theme. Just random clapping. If any of the others hear it, they almost always reply with "That's a fuckin' joke" in a really disappointed tone. It's confused a lot of people.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #gary roach sanderson #john price #kate laswell #they spend far too much time together #so their humour has kind of melded together to make their own goddamn language that nobody else ever understands #and they can't explain it either #because it always takes too long and by the time theyre done its not even funny #so they just look crazy to everyone #price knows about most of these but absolutely refuses to take part in them #except for malibu #because he actually finds that one funny #task force 141 #cod 141 #shit talker talks

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

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poisoned mercury | lifestyles of the rich & famous

i. lifestyles of the rich and famous by good charlotte (introduction)

a/n: introductory chapter! introducing the dynamics of the band, luke's relationship with his mom, and teenage boy antics. pre-reader and pre-chb. things will pick up quickly after this, i promise! bear with me as i set the scene :)

series masterlist | previous | next

“why the fuck am i seeing tabloids on top of tabloids with my kid’s plastered face on the front page of all of them?”

luke winced at the sound of his mom’s voice echoing through the empty event space. chris covered the bottom half of his face with his shirt, trying to hold in his laughter. may castellan was in her usual pantsuit, high heels clacking against the floor, as she waved around trashy magazines. she was furious.

“ignoring the fact that you are not 21 years old and cannot legally drink, what were you thinking, luke?” travis dropped his drumsticks on the ground, motioning for chris and connor to follow him backstage. they’d seen luke get chewed out by his mom more often since they started their world tour. as the three boys walked toward the side of the stage, may turned to them. “none of you are off the hook either. you may not have been on the front page, but care to listen to what they said about you in one of their glorious articles?”

“i would actually prefer not to, mama castellan,” chris mumbled, suddenly feeling caught. all traces of humor instantly drained from his face. luke couldn’t help but scoff, the boys always gave him shit for getting yelled at by his mom, so he was glad that this time around they were all on the sinking ship.

she dramatically cleared her throat, opening up one of the magazines. luke grimaced at the sight of him on the front page. he was sitting on the curb, his sunglasses askew, with a girl awkwardly patting his back. he doesn’t even remember this. may shot daggers at chris, who was cowering behind his mic stand, “bassist of poisoned mercury, chris rodriguez, was photographed away from the band when he was caught outside smoking something that wasn’t a cigarette, if you catch our drift. hopefully, his habits don’t catch up to him anytime soon.”

she stared at the stolls next, “drummer and lead guitarist of the rising band, travis and connor stoll, didn’t miss out on the fun. they walked out of the club with two models, who looked like twins, along with a bottle of dom perignon before heading into their suv.”

“and my darling child,” her words were sweet but her tone was anything but. luke chewed on the peeling skin of his bottom lip, “superstar, teen heartthrob, poisoned mercury lead singer, luke castellan, had a great night as seen in these pictures. the resident bad boy had one too many, it seems, as he walked out of the club stumbling with a mysterious blonde under his arm. castellan couldn’t make it into the car and had to sit on the curb to puke his guts out. let’s hope his actions didn’t ruin his chance at a budding romance.”

may closed the magazine, arms on her hips. she waited patiently for one of the boys to speak up.

“in our defense, this was in canada,” luke tried to reason, scrunching his face up. “legal drinking age is 18.”

that was the wrong response, luke realized, when his mom’s eyes lit up in anger. she let out a breath, “you were in toronto where the drinking age is 19, which you weren’t until yesterday.”

“i did not know that the drinking age in canada varied by region. i always learn something new whenever i talk to you, mama castellan,” travis said, trying to lighten the mood. connor shot him a look, motioning for him to quit talking. may castellan was clearly not in the mood for jokes.

“i am tired of you guys acting reckless,” she roared, dropping the magazines. they fell with a heavy thud. she rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers, “your parents trusted me to take care of you guys while you chased your dreams and this is what you’re doing under my watch?!”

seeing his mom at her wit's end made luke feel sick.

“mom,” luke hopped off the stage, ignoring the sound of the magazines ripping under his feet as he landed on top of them, “we’re sorry. i’m sorry.”

“sorry’s not gonna cut it anymore, luke,” may said, shaking her head. “after this tour, you guys are taking a break. no touring, no public appearances.”

“what?” connor exclaimed, joining luke off the stage. the other boys followed, looks of bewilderment evident on their faces. “w-we can’t take a break now!”

“yeah, c’mon, mama c!” chris added, shaking his head, “we’re just getting really big. if we quit now, we’ll lose this momentum.”

“you’re not quitting. it’s just a tiny break– three months,” she cut them off, raising a hand in a stop. “we’ll release a statement to the press saying you guys will be taking some time off to work on your sophomore album so people have something to look forward to when you return.”

“okay, so that’s the cover story,” luke ran a hand through his curls. he knew that there was no winning against his mom when she made up her mind. he looked at her and spoke before the rest of the band continued their protests, “but what are we actually gonna be doing?”

“you’re going to spend your summer in montauk, just like old times,” his mom explained, voice still stern. “you’re going to camp half blood.”

“what the fuck is a camp half blood?” chris asked, plopping down on the couch they had inside their dressing room. rehearsal was cut short following the news delivered by luke’s mom.

“it’s a music camp,” luke explained, fidgeting with random things sprawled across his desk, trying to find the pack of cigarettes he hid. he really needed to clean up. “my dad used to take me there over the summer when i was younger.”

the topic of luke’s dad was a sore subject for him. his dad left him and his mom when he was 7 for some young waitress from their hometown diner. one second, he was signing up for little league with his dad as the coach; the next, he was sitting in the hallway listening to his mom cry after his dad packed a bag and left town with wendy the waitress in the passenger seat. luke hasn’t heard from him since then. last he checked, his dad was lounging beachside in santa monica with his third wife who was definitely too young for him. as far as he’s concerned, his dad was dead to him.

but he couldn’t deny that his time at camp half blood was the place of origin of some of his best childhood memories. he got his first taste of what it was like to be on stage at camp half blood; the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the pounding of his heart at the applause, the wild images in his head about what it would be like to be known for his music-- it all started at camp half blood. he was his happiest at camp, at least before his dad ruined it for him.

“is it fun?” travis asked, twirling a fresh pair of drumsticks between his fingers.

“used to be, yeah,” luke chuckled, hoisting himself up to sit on the desk. “haven’t been there since i was seven.”

“dude, i do not want to hang out with a bunch of little kids all summer,” chris groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall.

“relax, rodriguez,” luke lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke before continuing. “there’s two sides to the camp. we’ll be with the older kids.”

“oh shit, is camp half blood mr. d’s music camp?” connor asked. the name of the camp was starting to sound familiar to him.

luke took another drag, nodding, “that’s the one.”

“dude, i fucking love mr. d. he always has the wildest stories,” travis laughed, “he’s so mellow and chill now, i wouldn’t’ve ever guessed he used to be like that.”

“it was the 90’s,” chris shrugged, “pretty sure everyone was like that at one point.”

“paid off for him though,” connor replied, opening a bag of doritos. he offered a chip to his brother, who in return, snatched the bag for himself. connor rolled his eyes, reaching over to grab another one. he was used to this. “i mean being a ceo of a multi-million dollar recording company isn’t too shabby.”

luke hummed along, mindlessly, letting the chatter of his bandmates fill the air. the three boys fell into a conversation about the last time they saw mr. d at the recording studio when they were finishing up the vocals for their debut album, but luke’s mind was far away from the topic at hand. he couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment from his body. he knew the way his mom looked at him would haunt him for the next few nights.

it wasn’t like he was actively trying to disappoint her– really, he wasn’t, but he just gets so caught up in the noise of fame that he forgets how to act under the pressure. there was something about his mom breaking down in front of him because of him that tore him apart. he felt guilty. his mom didn’t ask for this life, she didn’t even want it. she was content being a suburban mom in westport, connecticut, but she gave up her comfy life to let luke live out his dreams of being a musician.

he was lucky, he knew that. not every mom would be on board with her kid dropping out of traditional high school to perform rowdy songs about teenage angst, but may castellan was okay with it because she loved luke so much and wanted him to be happy. so when poisoned mercury got a record deal with olympus records, she didn’t hesitate to drop everything and go on the road with four unruly teenagers, promising their parents that she’d take care of their sons.

sometimes, he thinks about what his mom sees when she looks at him. he wonders if she still recognized him, the him before all the fame got to his head.

he was may castellan’s little boy. the boy who used to beg his mom for chocolate chip cookies after a bad day at school, who used to knock on her door in the middle of the night wondering why he wasn’t enough for his dad to stay, and who cried when she got him his first guitar on his tenth birthday. for most of his life, it’s always just been him and his mom.

now, at 19, luke didn’t know who he was anymore. he was just going with the flow, doing whatever, doing whoever, his fame and his status threw his way. he did what any teenage boy would do in his position– he drank, he smoked, he had fun, maybe too much fun, sometimes. it’s a rockstar’s life, his wildest dreams come to life, but it was a distraction, mostly. luke wasn’t brave enough to face the music just yet, so he dove into this fantasy head-first, too afraid to look back.

except sometimes, he fucks up really badly, like in toronto, and he’s forced to deal with the consequences of his actions. one time, his mom cut the band off from playing video games on the tour bus for a month after a heated argument between the four of them caused them to cancel a show. the argument was stupid. luke was adamant that scorpions did not have the same mental capacity for understanding pain that humans do and that did not bode well with travis. rehearsal ended in a brawl because travis kept doing impromptu drum solos to drown out luke’s voice. his mom was pissed that hundreds of fans were disappointed over the canceled show and it was all because they couldn’t agree over a damn scorpion.

another time, she banned them from driving the golf carts around the venue when they crashed it into a very expensive sound system in portland. they ended up owing upwards of $4,000 for the damages and were banned from playing at the event space ever again. the four of them laughed about it when the chaos of it all subsided, and they were fine not playing at the house of hades again, but they did miss the snack bar they set up for visiting talents. chris said he still dreamt about the pomegranate juice ‘til this day.

luke can look back at the punishments over the years fondly now. in the grand scheme of things, none of it really mattered. but going to camp half blood? this was a different type of punishment.

luke didn’t want to go to camp half blood. the last memory he had of camp was not a welcomed one. plus, after what he experienced on tour, he could think of a million other ways to spend his summer months, and living at a camp with spotty cell service and designated arts and crafts time was nowhere near the top of the list.

“yo, castellan,” chris’ voice snapped luke out of his thoughts. “you comin?”

luke put out his cigarette against the wood of his desk, “huh?”

“we’re grabbing food, do you wanna go with us?”

luke hopped off the desk, slipping on his black, puffer jacket, “yeah, i’m right behind you.”

as luke was walking out of the dressing room, adjusting his t-shirt, he saw his mom talking to teddy, their publicist. they were engaged in a serious conversation, no doubt talking about the press release regarding their second album and their hiatus. luke stood in front of the door for a brief moment, a stutter in his steps, not knowing if he should interrupt.

luke pursed his lips, deciding to jog over to his mom.

“i think we should post it on the band accounts first before the boys announce it individually. it make–” may furrowed her eyebrows, noticing luke coming closer to her. she turned her body to face him. she looked much calmer now than she did during rehearsals, “hey, what’s wrong?”

luke shook his head, “nothin’, mom. i just–uh, just wanted to say sorry again.”

“let’s talk later, may,” teddy gave the two of them a small smile before walking away.

“i’m not changing my mind about camp half blood,” she frowned. “sorry, luke but i can’t have you guys running around all sum–”

“no, no, i know, mom. i-i didn’t come here to try to convince you,” luke looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling like a little boy again. “i just– uh, shit. okay, i’m sorry for toronto. it was a bad time and it’s not fair that you have to deal with the fall out of our shit. and uh– thank you for sticking by us even though we drive you kinda crazy.”

may laughed, smiling at her son, “you’re my kid. you know i’ll always be there to set you straight.”

“thanks, mom,” luke chuckled, backing away to catch up with his bandmates. may waved goodbye, making her way to teddy’s makeshift office. before luke left the tunnel, he turned around, “wait mom! last thing!”

she raised her eyebrows, “what?”

luke raised his hand in a thumbs-up motion, grinning from ear to ear, “love you!”

“i love you too, kiddo,” may replied, a hand over her heart. “now scram, i gotta clean up your mess.”

#frances writes #hermes will never beat the deadbeat dad allegations #poisoned mercury #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke pjo #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

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keyotos · 11 months

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i am absolutely in love with ur writing AND with gepard landau,, can i request a first kiss fic for him? i read your kiss the girl fic for dan heng and ITS SO GOOD!! tysm in advance, take care of yourself!

teenage dream

summary ⎯ gepard knows he can't keep these feelings to himself. gepard also knows that he can never tell you about how he feels. so, he goes to the person he tells all his secrets to: serval. serval, who told pela. pela, who is determined to set you two up. and doing so, entails a bookish adventure for you to enjoy.

tana's words ⎯ i too am in love with gepard. i feel u anon. also thank u for the kind words!

tags ⎯ matchmaking (serval and pela). first kiss. pining (this should be expected). bookish!reader. bookstore owner!reader. oblivious idiots.

IT’S EXTREMELY SURPRISING TO HEAR GEPARD frantically knocking on the doors of nevermore workshop, so serval obviously had to open the doors for him.

when he entered, gepard immediately shut the doors as if he was being followed. the expression on his face was dire; he looked as if he was chased by wolves and he was being hunted down.

“gepard?” serval asked, concern dripping in her tone, “what the hell happened?”

“serval,” gepard panted. serval was getting worried; this was all irregular behavior coming from gepard, “i need help.”

gepard never asked for help. he is one of the most self-sufficient and stubborn people serval knows. he would rather stare death in the face instead of asking someone for help.

“what is it?” serval rushed by his side, “whatever you need, i got you.”

“i think i have feelings for,” gepard sighed, palm dragging across his face, “the owner of the bookstore,” he finishes quietly.

serval’s jaw dropped. it wasn’t because of the declaration of gepard’s crush. it was that he made it sound so dramatic. serval thought that he was being tracked down and was about to be sent to the madhouse.

“are you serious!” serval shoved gepard, “i thought you were about to die or something!”

gepard recoiled at serval’s shove; his sister was stronger than most people thought, “it feels like i am! every time i’m around them my heart rate quickens so much that i think i’m about to have a heart attack. i get all nervous on the inside and i can barely think with them beside me.”

aeons, gepard has definitely fallen in love with you.

“wait⎯so, where are you gonna go from here?” serval leaned on the counter, trying to process all the words her brother confessed.

“that’s the thing,” gepard sighed again. he sounded like a lovesick puppy, “i don’t know. that’s why i came here, i thought you’d be able to help.”

“um. you are aware of my past relationship with cocolia, right? i think i’m like the least qualified person you should be asking romance advice from,” serval pointed out.

“i don’t know who else i could tell,” gepard ran a hand through his hair. this was really stressing him out.

“how about you just… tell them?” serval suggested.

“no!!” gepard shook his head distraughtly, “i can’t do that. what if they don’t feel the same?”

“then it’s not meant to be,” serval said, “simple as that.”

“but it’s not,” gepard whined. serval thought he was making this a lot more complicated than it needed to be. when she was his age, she confessed her feelings to cocolia like it was nothing. they were happy until the break up anyway.

but then it donned on serval. gepard had little to no relationship experience. the only “experience” serval remembers him having was when they were children: his friend had a crush on him and tried to confessed, but gepard rejected her.

that’s why gepard was so distressed. he had no idea how to go on with this. these feelings for you? all new. what he missed out as a teenager, he is now getting as an adult.

“tell you what,” serval wrapped her arm around her brother’s shoulder, “i’ll get this sorted out. trust me. yn will never know about this,” she reassured him.

“you just go along with your guardly duties. i’ll help you,” serval grinned. she knew that she had the perfect plan. except, she couldn’t do it alone.

pela already knew about your crush on the silvermane guard captain. every time he greeted the two of you at the book store, pela practically saw the hearts in your eyes. it was sickening and disgusting, but it was cute too.

what pela didn’t know, however, was that gepard has a crush on you as well.

serval came to pela just a few minutes after gepard’s confession. she knew that she probably shouldn’t have told pela right after the conversation happened, but serval didn’t know how else to console gepard.

“so… you’re telling me that they both like each other?!” serval slammed her hands on the counter. “and they’re both too scared to confess!?”

“that’s exactly what i said, yes,” pela monotonously replied.

you knew that there couldn’t be anything between you and gepard. it was highly improbable that you, a bookstore owner, would be able to gain the captain of the silvermane guard’s interest. it seemed like something straight out of a fictional (key word: fictional) romance novel.

so you appreciated his friendship while he was around. sometimes, as a way to become closer to the captain, you’d suggest different books to him every week. despite being on the front lines quite often, he always comes back to see you. well, he comes back for the books anyway.

serval groaned into her hands, “so what do we do? they both like each other but they literally can’t bear to admit it.”

pela smirked. she’s read enough romance novels to figure out what to do next.

“two words, serval,” pela smirked, “grand. gesture.”

gepard took a few deep breaths before approaching your book store. after his chat with serval, he's been distressed the entire day. he had these feelings for you storming all over his body; occasionally, they'd get so strong that it would feel like those feelings would overtake him.

he opened the door, book in hand, and greeted you formally. gepard couldn't help it: he was so nervous, he wasn't able to function straight.

"hello, captain gepard," you turned around. you were on a latter stacking books on top of bookshelves. originally, you thought it would be cool to have towering shelves, however you quickly learned that it was extremely impractical and difficult.

"i told you," gepard stood near the counter, refusing to slouch in your presence, "you can call me gepard."

"and i told you," you grunted, trying to reach a higher spot on a shelf, "to drop the formalities," you grinned to yourself.

gepard noticed your (potentially) perilous situation and quickly got near the end of the latter. in the case that you fall, at least gepard would be there to catch you.

fortunately, you made your way down the tall latter peacefully. as you descended, the sight of gepard holding down the latter for you made you flush. it was the bare minimum, but it still made your heart speed up.

when he reached out his hand to guide you down (it was out of instinct), you gave him a warm smile. it looked easy on the outside, but you were burning up on the inside. similarly, gepard had the same reaction. for you, he'd do anything.

"thank you," you held onto his hand for a little longer. once you realized what you were doing you quickly recoiled your hand away and apologized. gepard wished your hand was still entwined with his; he wanted to hold onto to the feeling of your hand in his. gepard wanted to trace patterns on your hands, wanted to feel every part of them.

as an attempt to dissipate the tension (it was making you nervous), you decided to ask gepard for help. "we had a busy day yesterday. a best seller recently came out; people were storming the shelves. good for my profit but not good for my sanity," you let out an airy laugh, "would you mind helping me clean up?"

realizing what you just did (asking the captain of the silvermane guards for help) you quickly added, "unless you're busy! then i'll be okay. you can leave. i'll be fine," you rambled.

gepard parted his lips, almost as if he was about to say something. how could you ever think he wouldn't make time for you? even so, he'd deploy a few other guards if you needed help. he'd make sure your needs were met as soon as possible.

he reached his arm out; his hands were close to your collarbone. then he reached back, scared of what would happen next. how silly. the captain of the silvermane guards was not scared of no monster, but of rejection of the one he likes.

"i'll stay for anything," gepard blurted. you were taken aback for a second, but then once you realized what he had just said, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and covertly pinched yourself to make sure that whatever was happening was not a dream.

gepard didn't intend to add, "anything," to his sentence. but his mind was thinking it, and then it just accidentally came out. he meant what he said though. if the bluntness of his voice didn't show his sincerity, the blush that was slowly grazing his face probably did.

"thank you, gepard," you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from beaming too hard. you had to turn away from the captain once again, for your smile at his words would be too embarrassing to show. how silly of you to act so giddy and childish at one simple word.

gepard thinks he could hear you say his name a million times, and he would never get bored. he wants to hear his name on your lips as if it were a mantra; you've said his name a few times before, and each time he swears he gets more and more addicted to the sound.

"how about i start on the right and you'll start on the left. that way, we'll both finish in the middle!" you clapped your hands together. you gave gepard a reassuring smile.

you two started on opposite sides, but how gepard wished that you two would be closer. however, there are positives to this situation. gepard can brainstorm ideas for the "grand gesture" pela and serval texted him about.

gepard already had ideas in mind. he just needed to figure out the material for them. he obviously will not tear out papers from a book; that will cause more harm than good (for you and gepard; he cares about books).

while gepard was planning, you were blushing. you still couldn't believe he actually stayed with you. surely, there are more important deeds than helping out a leisurely bookstore owner. and this was the most boring task ever: organizing books. yet, gepard was still here. and he was only a few feet away from you.

you turned back to observe gepard; you wanted to see if you had trapped him in a boring task or not. to your surprise, gepard seemed to be enjoying this. he would flip through pages of various books, spend time reading the summaries; gepard would even go as far to reading the first few pages of some books.

gepard liked to read. at first, he started coming to the bookstore to fetch some books for pela. however, after he met you, he began to adopt a newfound interest in books that he never had before. he read some of pela's books, discovered that he did not like them, and went to browse for more. that's when you came up. you thought you had talked his entire ear off that entire morning; you went on and on and on about what kind of books he would like.

you tried to ignore him afterwards; you even offered the books for free because you were so embarrassed. but gepard kept coming back. your recommendations impressed him: gepard had never met anyone who was so meticulous at their craft. and he loved hearing you talk. he loved your rambles, your rants, your reviews. maybe that was the first sign.

gepard caught your gaze as he turned around. he had the same motivation as you: he wanted to see how you were faring in this task. did you miss the proximity you had before? are you flustered as well? do you like him too?

you two were both staring at each other, thoughts racing, until you shouted, "see something you like?" to break the tension.

gepard thought the question was a taunt at first; similar to asking, "like what you see?"

"no!" he abruptly shouted, trying to hide the fact that he was just staring at you. and then he realized the real meaning of your question: he was browsing the books with such intensity. the truth was, he was trying to find your favorite books. you've informed him about them before, always on your bookish rants. he was going to use them for his gesture later on.

thinking that he now looks like an idiot, gepard tries to save himself by shouting back, "i mean⎯ yes! i do. these books are nice," he tried to cover up.

you seemed not to register his mistake, as you tell him, "whatever you want, it's on the house. for your work today. it'll be on the house for life!" you put some books on some shelves and move closer to the middle.

gepard shook his head and chuckled, "you've always given books to me for free." he put some books back and continued around the room.

"are you complaining?" you raised an eyebrow, "what if i just kept a tab on you this entire time? and you never knew?" more books get put away.

"then i'd rightfully pay you back," gepard wholeheartedly responded, "or i'd arrest you," he joked.

you mock-gasped, "for what?" you're getting closer to the middle now.

stealing my heart, the intrusive part of gepard's mind thought. he'd been hanging out with serval too much; he would never say that. gepard internally cringed.

"false advertising," he moved closer to the middle, “i don't know," he smiled to himself. gepard doesn't think he would have the heart to arrest you.

you blushed at hearing the captain lost on amendments. the captain wouldn't know how to arrest you. is this flirting? or are you reading too much into it?

you don't know if the heat on the back of your neck is from gepard's words or the sun shining so brightly on the back of your neck. you stack some more books on shelves; you've now reached the middle. you're having trouble reaching one of the shelves, but you're too lost in your thoughts to even think about that.

in fact, you're too lost in your thoughts that you don't even notice the warmth disappear from the back of your neck. your cheeks are still warm, so you are still blushing. your struggles with the tall bookshelf are lost when you feel a hand over yours.

"i'll take that," gepard quietly mumbles. it's so quiet that you didn't hear it at first.

on instinct, you turn towards him. when you looked at the position the both of you were in, you noticed that you were caged against him. you were caged against the captain of the silvermane guards. against a bookshelf.

gepard towered over you. his body was centimeters closer to fully pressing on you. his breath was fanning on your face. you could see every detail of his face from your view from below. your hands were so close to grazing his chest, so you immediately slapped them to your sides. you gulp, you start to breath quicker, and you feel like you're about to combust.

you swallowed, trying not to move. you were frozen in place as you tried not to disturb gepard. you gaped at him as he was working to organize the books, not noticing the position the two of you were in.

when gepard finished, he gave a sigh of relief. he underestimated your job: if you had to do this every day, you were probably stronger than some of his soldiers. when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by your wide eyes staring right into his.

he was breath-taken by your beauty. the look in your eyes as you look into his was captivating. gepard needed it framed. the way your lips parted made him go feral; his heart stuttered with every second he looked at you.

his arm was pinned above your head. your bodies were so close that you kept focusing on the rise and fall of gepard’s chest. the way his expression scanned yours made you want to quiver against him.

you said the first sentence, “hard work?” your tone was breathless. you were still trying to catch your breath.

“yeah,” he sighed, still not noticing the way your bodies curved into each other, “hard work.”

“did i waste your time?” you whispered. it was quiet, like you were ashamed of your actions. you looked down at his chest rather than his face.

“no,” gepard leaned in, trying to hear your voice one more time. he tilted your head up slightly with his fingers so you could look at him, “you’d never.”

silence crippled the room. it was just you and gepard, the two of you leaning oh-so-close together that your lips were nearly about to touch. a part of you wanted to lean into him; you wanted to pull him closer and closer until you were both out of breath.

but that was delusional. that was something straight out of romance novels, and your life was anything but.

gepard leaned in closer on purpose. he gave into temptation and wanted to feel your lips on his. he wanted to grab you by the waist and pull you so tightly into him. he wanted this: he wanted your kiss, he wanted your insight, he wanted you.

but with gepard, want is not something one could have. especially one like him.

“i’m sorry,” he abruptly let go, “i’m⎯i think, i have something i need to do,” he took a few steps back away from you, leaving about three feet in distance. quite the opposite from how you two were positioned a few seconds ago.

“oh,” you let go immediately. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know,” you quickly ran to the other side of the room. you wanted to hide from embarrassment.

“not your fault!” gepard shouted as he headed for the exit, “goodbye mx yn!”

you didn’t bother to say goodbye as you slammed the door shut after he left. what just happened was mortifying. the position you two were in? the way you two gradually leaned closer to each other? no wonder he ran away, you thought, you must’ve scared him off.

oh, if only you knew how wrong you were.

you didn't see gepard for a week after the incident. he hadn't come into the bookstore at all the entire week. however, that also could've been your fault: you've been in and out of the bookstore for the past week. if you faced gepard after the incident (you've dubbed), you'd probably apologize and beg for forgiveness.

but still, wouldn't he come in and leave a note? wouldn't he at least stop by once? did you scare him off that badly? the more you thought about it, the more you thought about becoming a hermit.

you'd thought you terrified him and ruined your friendship (and any future hope of a relationship) until flowers appeared on the counter of the bookstore. your assistant refused to let you know who they were from.

you bent down and eyed the pot of flowers sitting on the counter. they were your favorite color: pink. you had to admit, they were gorgeous. they looked well grown, as if these were from a master gardener. the flowers bloomed perfectly, each petal reaching out for the sun.

the message of the flowers also intrigued you. begonias are the flowers that symbolizes knowledge and deep thoughts. whoever gifted these to you must have been very observant or they wanted to be your intern.

"did someone come by asking to be my intern?" you stood up and put your hands on your hips. your lip twisted in thought. you were a bit preoccupied at the moment; the bookstore was getting exceptionally busy and (with your whole gepard crisis going on) you didn't think you were fit to be a mentor at the moment.

"no," your assistant shook her head. you leaned back on the counter, wondering why (and who) would gift you flowers on such a strange day. you already knew it wasn't gepard, due to the awkward tension surrounding the both of you right now, so you had a big list to narrow down.

"but," your assistant continued, "someone dropped off this letter with the flowers. they told me to give it to you after you saw the flowers," your assistant handed you the letter.

it was very formal, the letter. it's envelope was very extravagant, fit for someone with high standards. the stamp was still warm, meaning that this letter had been written recently. you tore open the envelope to reveal it's contents.

yn,

please do me the honor of accompanying me to everwinter cafe tonight. i would really appreciate seeing you there.

"g.l." you paused, "as in green lantern?!" you asked your assistant, wide eyes and all. "who is trying to cosplay as a superhero to talk to me? this is insane. did i owe someone a book or something? charged them extra?" you panicked.

your assistant frowned at your idiocy. who else could 'gl' entail to besides gepard landau? "what if it's the captain," your assistant urged on, nudging your shoulder.

"it couldn't be the captain," you jolted. does your assistant know? "we barely even talk," you try to reason.

"he comes in here nearly every day," your assistant counters, "if not every day, be it every other day," they sighed.

"he just comes in to look at books," you placed the flowers in a safe space in the shelves. "we don't converse as often as you think."

"you talk every day," you assistant drags on. "you're telling me that the two of you have no relations whatsoever?"

"we⎯it's complicated," you sighed, "long story short, it could never be the captain," you looked down at the plant. even if it was gepard, what was he doing? sending anonymous flowers? cryptic notes? why couldn't he just talk to you?

"you should go," your assistant encouraged, "you never know. it could be the captain or it could be another potential secret admirer."

"you think?" you raised an eyebrow. your assistant nodded in response.

you looked at the flowers one more time. though you wished it was gepard who sent them, you knew it was probably someone else trying to flatter you into taking them in as an intern. but as you stared at the begonias, no other thoughts beside gepard consumed your mind

it was late when you walked to everwinter cafe. tonight was not a particularly chilly night, but belobog's slight chill was ever present.

you walked around aimlessly, trying to walk slowly so you can prolong the sight of your "intern." you tried to focus on other things as you walked past, such as the plants and heaters surrounding the city. it's wondrous how things such as plants are still able to flourish in times like these.

as you viewed your surroundings, you saw a note placed on a lamppost close to the cafe. it read, "'i know you're working. i wanted to be somewhere...' safe? familiar? comfortable? 'near you.'

you automatically knew which book that quote was from. book lovers by emily henry. it was your favorite romance book; you've raved about it many times with gepard.

as you continued, you saw another note, "'if you saw yourself the way other people see you, you'd never doubt again.' 'how do people see me?' 'like you're the most beautiful, most remarkable, thing they've ever seen."

you must admit, you blushed a little bit while internally reading that. the only reason you blushed was that because you discussed that quote with gepard. you were talking about the 'twisted' series and how it had it's pros and cons with gepard, and this quote was one of the pros.

another read, "'who are they? the best part of my day.'"

another, "books she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives."

and the last, "'favorite word?' 'you.'"

you quickly noticed that these were all quotes from your favorite books. these are books you've only discussed and rambled about with one person: gepard. you'd never thought he would've actually read these books. let alone, you'd never thought gepard would also quote them.

with slightly more hope than before, you ran up to everwinter cafe.

"did you get my message?" gepard stood tall in front of you. you couldn't look into his eyes and it was killing him.

"your letter? yes, i did. and your flowers too. they were beautiful," you rocked back and forth on your heels.

"thank you, i grew them myself," he gave you a soft smile. you wanted to talk about how he managed to even grow such beautiful flowers, but how could you talk to him if you couldn't even look at him in the eyes? "but, did you get my message?"

you looked down at the many notes in your hand. it turns out gepard had left notes after all, "oh yes. i did," you blushed at the obvious context of the quotes. "all my favorite books."

"yeah," gepard spoke breathlessly, as if all of his air had run out after he started speaking to you, "but did you get my message?" he looked at your face for any type of indication: whether you liked him back, hated him, or had no strong feelings towards him. his eyes darted throughout your face, and the sight made you slightly flustered. he was leaning over you, and you thought you saw his eyes graze over your lips.

then it donned on you. the flowers. the letter. the sneaking out at night. the romantic context of all the quotes. the way all the quotes were from your favorite books that you've only talked about with him. the way gepard has admired and remembered every single thing about you. your stomach dropped as you realized gepard had been feeling the same things you have felt for him this entire time. your heart pounded in your chest as you finally met his eyes in the pale moonlight.

"yes," you swiftly exhaled. it was like all your hidden feelings for gepard were compacted in your chest, and when you finally breathed, they were all let out. it was like all your troubles were leaving you, "i did."

"and..." gepard trailed off, now failing to meet you in the eyes. he was terrified of your rejection; your opinion was one of the things that mattered most to him. before, he regarded it was his passion for the people, but now he recognizes that he was just passionate for you. "did you like it?"

"i loved it," you smiled; it wasn't just a soft smile this time, like the ones you've always given him. it was a big smile: loud and talkative, much like you. one smile could convey so much.

but you still had thoughts, "i didn't need all of this though," you grabbed his hand for reassurance. you were in range of his lips. you could close the gap right now.

gepard froze; your words and your touch made him tense. he was finally able to look you in the eye, having prepared himself for iminent rejection and was ready to leave. whatever you needed, he would do.

"what do you need?" gepard asked frantically. "whatever you need, i will give it to you. whether it be space or never seeing me again."

what you needed? you needed his thoughts, his opinions, his reassurance. you needed his touch on a cold night, you needed his arm around you when you were cold, you needed to feel him beside you on nights similar to this. you needed everything that he was.

"i need you," you whispered up on his lips. "right now."

and gepard swore the entirety of everwinter city heard his heart drop to the ground. he was sure that you could feel his heart pounding in his chest after you said those five words. only five words, yet gepard felt like he was going insane. he was going insane for you: your touch, your mind, your words, your entirety.

gepard removed his hand from yours for just one second, using it to tip your chin up so you could be in his view. in the pale moonlight, you were gorgeous. to be fair, you were always gorgeous, but something about tonight extenuated your beauty.

"can i⎯"

"don't even ask," you cut him off, leaning into him.

the kiss was soft and sweet at first. the feeling of your lips pressed onto his was heavenly: gepard felt ten times stronger with you than with anything else. it was gentle and tender.

but when you tugged your arms around his neck, all restraint went out the window.

gepard moved his hand from your chin to your waist, pulling you closer into him. it was bold for his first kiss, but who could blame him when you're holding onto to him so tightly?

you threaded your hands through his hair as he kissed you feverishly. his hands on your waist made you want to combust into him. you were standing on your toes at this point; if you tried to stand any taller, gepard was about to lift you up into the air.

when you finally stopped to breath, all that was left in the air was your love and the light from the sky.

"was i your first kiss?" you asked him coyly, arms still wrapped around his neck.

gepard blushed and you immediately knew his answer to your question. you stood up one more time to give him one more quick kiss.

yes, you were his first kiss. and gepard wished for more to come.

i need a week off after this fic i swear to god

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr #hsr x reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau #gepard hsr #gepard x you #gepard landau x you #tana answers: request ver #FINALS WEEK IS OVER I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #gepard

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urrockstar-xe · 3 months

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3 teen boys vs 1 pretty girl - j.m x fem!reader

posted feb 10th, 2024 10:24 pm

heres another belated v day post!! :D im working my way up guys look at me go, im running out of valentine themed songs though if you have recs and see this before the 14th pls send them to me!!

summary: John B and Pope have to help out JJ when he's under too much stress over a pretty girl, not proofread, use of Y/n.

masterlist

wordcount: 1.0k

JJ wasn’t one for romantics, never was, never will be. He’s never witnessed real romance outside of TV shows and movies, although now that he has, with his best friend falling in love, JJ still just didn’t quite get it.

Until he met You, of course, because every sweet, enchanting, and cheesy love story has to start with the player meeting the one.

The one that broke down every little wall with a soft smile and pretty eyes. The one who saves everything while simultaneously ruining it all.

At least in JJ’s eyes.

“Dude, just admit you like her” Pope’s words went in one ear and out the other as JJ groaned into the old pillow, dramatically falling onto John B’s couch. “I think he did, just not in a comprehensible way” John B chuckled, shoving JJ’s feet off of his lap.

JJ groaned once more before shifting positions and sitting up on the opposite end of JB. “I don’t know what it is, man. She comes in, introduces herself with a pretty little voice, batting her pretty little eyelashes, smiling a pretty little smile on her pretty little face.” JJ’s voice was laced with irritation, his friends just laughed in response.

“I think JJ thinks Y/n is pretty, Pope.” “No way, really?” Another round of laughter between the two boys made JJ scoff before chuckling a bit as well, he rubbed at his eyes.

JJ’s laughter ended with a sigh, “She’s makin’ me crazy.” John B smiled at his friend, nudging his shoulder. “They have that effect huh?” JB remarked, sharing a knowing look with Pope before Pope pulled JJ up off the couch.

“What am I gonna do? I mean, I gotta really wow this girl, man I mean, she’s perfect” JJ gushed as he stared back at his friend who merely smiled back and shook his head. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, why don’t you go work that out with John B and I’ll continue studying.” Pope proposed the idea as JB stood up, patting JJ on the back before nearly dragging him out of the chateau by the back of his hoodie.

“C’mon, we’re gonna make sure you get your girl by tomorrow night”

JJ and John B loaded up into the Twinkie, heading straight for the closest convenience store. JB distracted his lovelorn friend with loud music that the two teenage boys happily and obnoxiously sang along to. Once they finally pulled up to the store and went inside, John B led JJ to the aisle filled with red and pink colored cardboard, and heart-shaped candies.

“Dude, I don’t even know what kind of candy she likes,” JJ sighed, both boys scanning the wall of options. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.” John B mumbled.

“It’s all just one big guessing game-” John B got cut off by the store clerk noticing them.

“Maybank, I better not catch you stealin’ nothin'.” His gruffy booming voice caught their attention, heads turning towards the sound in sync. “Course not, Mr. Wade!” JJ waved, a small smile on his lips as the clerk shook his head and went back to his initial goal, leaving them alone once more.

JJ watched as John B grabbed one of the blue baskets and started throwing random candy boxes into it. “What are you doing?” JJ furrowed his eyebrows. “She’s gotta like at least one of these, let’s just buy it all” John B shrugged, handing the basket to JJ who turned his attention towards the box full of small stuffed animals.

JJ picked up a small cat before looking at the little dog holding a love heart. “Do you think she’s more of a dog person or a cat person?” “Which one do you want her to be?”

JJ abandoned the cat and threw the dog in the basket, just as John B grabbed a pink bag covered in white hearts and threw it on top of their Valentine's treasures.

“This should be enough right?” John B asked, earning a slightly concerned look from JJ.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the professional here? I’m just the student!” JJ followed him to the counter and helped throw everything in front of Mr. Wade.

“JJ, I don’t think people see either of us and think of the word professional.” and of course, he couldn’t argue with that.

JJ was left to his own devices the rest of the night, John B had a date with Sarah.

He did his best at setting up the bag of goodies, before deciding it was good enough because nothing would be as perfect as you no matter how much he tried.

Finally, Wednesday had come and right around the time you made it outside of your school building you were met with the sight of the Twinkie, eyes watching it as you laughed at something one of your friends said. You said your goodbyes before making your way to the old van just as JJ Maybank came out of the driver’s side and leaned on the passenger’s door.

“Thought you dropped out, JJ.” You smiled at the blond, who happily mirrored you as he approached him. “You know, gotta come back every once in a while, see how the place is holdin’ up without me.” He shrugged, earning a chuckle from you.

JJ cleared his throat, standing up straight. “I wanted to surprise you. Ask you to be my Valentine.” Your smile got softer, that sweet look on your face almost making JJ chicken out but now he was too deep in.

“So ask me,” you said softly, after a moment of waiting for him to continue. JJ laughed, shaking his head. “Right, yeah, sorry. Will you be my Valentine, pretty lady?” His voice was quieter than you were used to hearing, you couldn’t help but cover your face as you felt heat spread across your cheeks. JJ chuckled at your reaction before leaning forward just enough to remove your hands from your face.

“Whadya say?” You smiled at him as he held onto your hands, whispering now that you were so close. “I’ll be your Valentine any day of the week, J.” He smiled back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before letting go of your hands and opening the passenger door, revealing the very same bag that was currently overflowing.

“Awh, babe.” You smiled at the sight, picking up the little dog plush.

“Hope you’re a dog person,” He said, grabbing the bag’s handles so you could get in the van.

“And that you have a severe sweet tooth.”

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #Spotify

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weird-an · 5 days

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"For fuck's sake."

Jim already has a headache and apparently it's gonna get much worse. He pours himself a cup of the shittiest coffee in Hawkins and turns to the kid sitting in front of his desk.

"What happened, kid?" he asks. "Why would you do that?"

Billy Hargrove reeks of cheap liquor, trouble and the metallic smell of blood. His lip is split and he looks like he hasn't slept in a week or so.

Billy doesn't answer, just glares at him.

"Breakin' and entering is no joke," Jim starts again. He sounds as pissed off as he feels, because he still has Mrs. Carters shrill voice in his ear, calling from Loch Nora about a burglar, about her fancy neighborhood getting sullied.

"I didn't do shit," Billy protests. "I…was just…"

He falls silent, mouth snapping shout like he regrets he even said a word.

"What?" Jim probes, because there's a piece of the puzzle missing.

Billy shakes his head, lips thin.

"Should I call the Harrington's and ask if you were invited?" Jim knows he's an asshole, but it comes more naturally to him than being nice.

Something flashes across Billy's face and his tan gets drained out by miserable paleness.

"Don't call them," Billy says, fingers digging into his thigh so hard his knuckles turn white.

"So, let's try again," Jim says, taking another sip from the dishwater the station claims is coffee.

"The key's under the flower pot," Billy mumbles.

Jim raises a brow. "And you know that why?"

Billy's eyes shoot dagger at him, the way only a pissed of teenager can look at an adult.

"Steve put it there for me," he says lowly, like it's a secret, something dirty and shameful you hide under your bed. "In case I need a place to go to…"

"So, you're pals?" Jim asks, huffing a laugh in disbelief. "Why didn't you say so?"

Billy's jaw tightens.

"Nobody knows," he finally says. His fingers find his necklace, tugging at the pendant. "It's better that way."

Jim is close to crack a joke about dramatic teenagers, but Billy's blue eyes are dark and there's a sadness there that doesn't belong to someone so young.

Whatever it is, Jim gets another piece of a puzzle - but apparently they're playing Hide and Seek.

"Okay," he says after a while. He'll put a stamp on the report, saying Confidential or similar shit. "You can go."

Surprise makes Billy look softer, less hurt. "What?"

Jim shrugs. "I've heard enough. Or do you want me to lock you up?"

It's a joke, but his throat clogs up when he looks down on Billy's file and sees that the kid had already spend a night the drunk tank a few weeks ago.

"Whatever, Chief." Billy lifts his hands. "I'm outta here, then."

The kid is halfway through the door, when it hits Jim. Billy can't go back to Loch Nora right now. Mrs. Carter is probably on guard.

"If you still need a place to stay, you can sleep in the break room," Jim offers. "The couch is a disaster though."

Billy stands in the doorway, eyes wide. He plays it cool when he catches himself.

"If I don't have to drink that shit." He points at the coffee. Jim can't blame him. Although 1 am is way too late to get cheeky.

"Just go to bed," Jim grumbles.

Billy salutes him. Jim can see his shoulders sinking, his whole body a bit less tense. Maybe he'll get them donuts for breakfast.

#welcome to the jim has to take care of billy show #jim hopper #billy hargrove & jim hopper #jim hopper & billy hargrove #billy hargrove #implied #harringrove #billy hargrove ficlet

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arminsumi · 7 months

Text

SHOW-OFF

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

Love sick Suguru showing off during a basketball game to impress you, but it ends with him in the nurse's office with a bloody nose.

Note : my mind wanted to write requests but then my fingers wrote this instead... 😅

Summary : Suguru is a college heart throb that tries so very hard to grab your attention, but he finally earns it at the worst time — during an awry basketball game, when he's on the floor with a bloody nose.

Warnings : pining, fistfight, bloody nose, some angst, suggestive joke

Playme : play date

🍒 More from Jay : GETO works / JJK works / Oct. reqs open

Suguru Geto is, theoretically and practically, the guy that every girl in this college wants. He knows this. He's experienced this. He's got endless admirers. Eyes are always on him when he walks down the corridor.

So it baffles him when you don't pay attention to him. You're a challenge, and that ropes him right in.

"Haha, she walked right past you?" Satoru laughs. They're loitering in the corridor after classes.

"She walked right past me." Suguru nods, emphasizing dramatically until he turns it into a joke — but it isn't a joke, he's genuinely irked.

During class, he pouts like he's a teenage boy again, and scribbles into the margins of his notes;

私は彼女の心の片隅にもいません。 I'm not even in the back of her mind.

He's just as bad as his best friend when it comes to seeking and basking in the attention of doting girls — if not worse. Satoru is slowly weaning off the drug of popularity as he begins attending college, but Suguru is still stuck in the odd transitional stage.

There's a lighthearted basketball competition being held amongst the burly sporty boys one day, and sitting atop the bleachers Suguru spots your face. His eyes light up, he observes you from down on the court.

The squirming you do when you sit. The way your head tilts as you speak to your friend. The curling smile you make at their jokes.

I want to make you squirm when you sit next to me.

Why can't you look at me with the same adoration?

God, if you'd smile at me like that I'd fall to pieces.

Suguru's brows are furrowed so deeply that Satoru and Shoko ask if he's brooding about you again. And sure enough, he is.

"She's just sitting there." he emphasizes annoyedly.

Satoru places a comedic, sympathetic hand on Suguru's shoulder. "Don't worry, once you start bouncing balls all over the court she'll have to look your way."

"Yeah... she's gonna be completely star struck by me playing a stupid basketball game... " Suguru scoffs sarcastically. "Why the hell did you convince me to play again...?" he mutters under his breath.

Shoko hands back Satoru's glasses, "She might be into sporty guys. So give it your all, you pathetic loser." she jokes and heads off, trotting up the bleachers.

So Suguru determinedly gives it his all, never fumbling, never tripping, never mucking up his shots. He becomes a panting, sweaty mess, and in one quick moment as he's wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his forearm, he glances at you and you glance in his general direction, but not really at him.

Did she look at me, or am I imagining things?

His heart is already racing from the intensive exercise of running back and forth on a court, but the thought of you actually watching him as he plays makes his heart thump.

The sound of squeaking shoes ricochets off the walls and polished floors. Suguru loses focus for a moment, thinking hard about you as he stares at the bleachers, and then someone collides with him. He's caught so off-guard that he just topples over and his body meets with the hard floor.

"—What the fuck!"

"—Suguru? Why are you just standing around? The hell were you staring at just now?"

You and Suguru make brief eye contact and it sets him completely off balance, both physically and mentally.

Fuck fuck fuck, she's actually looking over. Why now?

Satoru helps Suguru to his feet, the whistle blows.

"Seriously, what the hell are you staring at? First Satoru doesn't pass the ball to me, now you fall over like a dainty princess—"

"Sukuna, keep speakin' to my boy like that and I'll cut your tongue out."

"Satoru, your boy is the reason we're losing; he's too busy being a fucking show-off for his crush on the bleachers." Sukuna has no shame and points in your general direction.

"This isn't a serious game, why the fuck are you getting so riled up!"

Suguru feels this sense of mortification stemming from the center of his chest as you finally, finally pay attention to him.

Oh my god. Look away. Look away. Look away.

"Sukuna, you're such a fucking cunt." Suguru spits slowly, unexpectedly.

Sukuna blinks at him incredulously. "... the fuck did you just call me?"

"I called you a cunt."

Poor boy Suguru, he's strong and capable of avoiding punches, but when he sees you coming down from the bleachers and approaching to the left at the same time as Sukuna's arm pulls back for a punch, he pays attention to you and that unfortunately results in a fist colliding with his pretty boy face.

The coach is quick to pry Satoru off of Sukuna, it's a chaotic moment.

Amidst the chaos, there's you. There's Suguru. The latter on the floor, splayed and softly groaning in pain, watching his best friend getting into a fistfight through. And the prior coming to kneel at his side, asking this half-conscious boy if he's okay.

Suguru squints at you, feels your hand reach out to wipe the blood dribbling over his lips, and falls in love in the midst of chaos.

I'm alive, but it feels like I'm in heaven staring at an angel.

You and him are deep in a moment, enclosed in a bubble that's separate from reality.

Satoru is pried off Sukuna by coach Fushiguro.

The bubble pops.

A panting, blue-eyed boy returns to his best friend, paying you a short glance of curiosity before bending down at Suguru's side like you are, "Suguru, you good?" he huffs.

"Yeah... need an ice pack..." Suguru mumbles. He sounds and looks dazed, and not just because he sustained a hit from a burly boy like Sukuna.

"Let's go to the nurse's office." you say, your voice carrying through Suguru's ears and finding a pathway into his soul.

Satoru nods, fangy teeth showing as he seethes and shakes his scuffed hand to alleviate the prickling pain across his knuckles. "Yeah, let's. C'mon, big boy, upsy-daisy."

You're make a cute attempt to help Satoru pull Suguru to his feet, even though he's a skyscraper to you.

In the nurse's office, he's just an uncomposed, love sick college boy. The complete opposite of his usual composed, nonchalant demeanor.

When he's alone with a girl, he usually knows exactly what to do with his words but with you they just fall haphazardly out of his stupid mouth, as if he's been rendered an uncouth loser in your company. In your company, up close, actually right here in your presence, in your air. Not distantly observing you in class, or as you're sat atop the bleachers, or as you walk down the corridors.

She's right here.

"Uh... so..." he begins, eager to talk to you at last.

"You sit next to me in professor Lin's class, right?" you interrupt.

He completely malfunctions. "I— y— yyyeah, I think so— I mean I do. Yeah, I do."

"Bangs guy?" you ask.

He groans and nods. You laugh.

"Yeah... bangs guy. Fucking hell, why has that become my identity in this damn school..." he rubs his eyes, then looks down at his knees.

"I mean, because you are the bangs guy." you say.

He's about to smile, then you add; "The hot bangs guy that sits next to me in class — sounds like the title of a romcom, doesn't it?" you joke.

Suguru widens his eyes, and desperately tries to seem unphased after you just flippantly called him hot.

"Yeah... haha..." he nods, voice daring to crack.

You continue your joke, "There could be a spinoff: "The hot bangs guy that stole my heart on the bloody basketball court" or something."

"These titles are getting longer..." he chuckles, avoiding eye contact.

His heart pumps harder.

Holy shit, is she flirting with me? Like, actually? That's so fucked. I'm so lucky. Oh Sukuna, thank you for making this possible, you fucking cunt.

"The hot bangs guy that banged m— no okay, I'll stop before this gets inappropriate, haha."

"Oh, I don't mind. Please, continue." he laughs properly now.

The smoothness is such an act, and you can tell; his dorkiness shines through. He's in love like a loser.

"The hhh—haha—the hot bangs guy that— that banged me." you say through giggles.

Satoru walks into the nurse's office with vending machine snacks.

"What's goin' on here?" he smirks at the two of you and flashes his eyes at Suguru.

"Just stupidity." you respond.

"Yeah..." Suguru smiles.

"Suguru... you have blood all over your lips. It's so hot." Satoru murmurs sarcastically.

"Oh, thanks babe. I'm going for the "just got beat up" look."

"Uhh... more like the "Sukuna's punching bag" look, you mean?" you joke.

"Wow! We just met and you're already humiliating me like this?"

You smile at him.

Satoru flits his eyes between you two, feeling the flirty tension in the atmosphere between you and Suguru. He decides to be the catalyst, because god knows Suguru is too hopeless right now to ask you out himself.

"So... when are you two going on a date?" he asks, wiggling his brows.

"Haha, what?" you give him a look.

Suguru laughs awkwardly and gives Satoru a look, too. A murderous one. "Yeah... what?"

"C'mon, the chemistry between you two is off the charts. I already feel like a third wheel. No, but seriously — you two are such losers for each other, you should go on a da—"

"— Satoru is a jokester, sorry. Ignore him." Suguru interrupts, feeling a flaming embarrassment in his chest.

"Ahah... it's okay." you nod awkwardly.

Satoru's eyes flicker upwards in annoyance, "Hopeless losers..." he mutters under his breath. "Can't say I didn't try."

You excuse yourself to take a sudden call, smiling at Suguru as you leave and so that's all he can see in his mind; the image of your smile.

He groans when you finally leave, and falls back dramatically on the cot. He drapes an arm over his eyes.

Satoru breaks the silence with a pitying whistle, "Dude, she's sooo not into you."

"Thanks, Satoru."

"I tried playing cupid, I really thought it would work." Satoru clicks his tongue.

"Well, sorry but you're shit at your job, Cupid. Anyways... I thought she was flirting with me for a second there... but I think it was all jokes..."

"Aw..."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I like her so fucking bad.

The poor boy replays all the scenes of your interactions with him thus far, and pauses on the moments where he thinks he was awkward. He files the best parts; you kneeling at his side, you wiping his blood off his nose, you joking suggestively with him, you "flirting" with him, you smiling at him.

"Suguru? You gonna spend your life in the nurse's office, or are we gonna go cheer your sorry ass up in Shibuya?" Satoru asks, stretching as he spoke. The afternoon light streams in through the shuttered windows.

"... yeah."

Satoru switches to a serious tone, watching Suguru move lethargically from his resting position on the cot. "I know you like her a lot, but don't get too bummed out... maybe this is just the beginning of something good."

Suguru pauses, contemplates, then rises to his feet. They open the door and leave the nurse's office.

"... or maybe it's just another thing in my life that's not meant to be..."

He looks so glum, and then suddenly his features light up when he hears your familiar voice calling his name. You're standing in the corridor, coming up to him.

"... hey, are you free on Saturday?"

His mind blanks.

"Free for... what?"

"A date?"

"Oh..."

"...?" you look at him, expecting an answer.

"Y—yeah, Saturday's cool."

You smile genuinely at him, and he snapshots it in his mind's eye.

"M'kay, I'll text you the time and place. See you tomorrow."

And then you say your goodbyes, Suguru stutters and chokes up a bit. He gives Satoru an open-mouthed look.

"No fucking wayyy..."

"Damn. You should go thank Sukuna. His magical fist made all this possible, after all." Satoru jokes.

Suguru nods, "Yeah, him and his magical fist. Hey... can you pinch me?"

"You're not dreaming, Suguru."

"I don't trust it. Pinch me."

Satoru pinches Suguru's cheek.

"See? Not dreaming."

"Wow... shit alright... oh my god... yo... I got a date on Saturday. I... OH MY FUCKING GOD." He smiles a big ass smile and does a half-spin, "I HAVE A FUCKING DATE WITH HER ON SATURDAY."

"Fucking dork." Satoru chuckles.

"A fucking dork with a date." Suguru rasps excitedly.

He wraps an arm around Satoru's shoulders as they head down the corridor, "Thanks for convincing me to play basketball, Satoru."

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

#fluff #geto #geto suguru #suguru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #geto x reader #suguru x reader #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #jujutsu geto #geto fluff #suguru fluff #suguru geto #geto suguru x you #getou x reader

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bluespiritshonour · 5 months

Text

Oh my God!

I just caught up with World's Finest: Teen Titans and I absolutely have to write this out:

First of all, I love this cover:

The thing that caught my eye: “you're grounded.”

Not the dramatic “you're fired” as if the motherfucker didn't raise that damn kid in his own damn house for YEARS.

(I know. I know. Bar on the ground, but what would you?)

Also, the anger palpable on Bruce's face and Dick's absolute disregard for it. I'm laughing here y'all. This is what teenagers act like. This is what fights between parents and children look like.

Also. Dick Grayson, I've been missing. You're back from war!

I love how curt he is. The “Get lost” hits in all the right places. We love a strongly-principled character that stands for what he believes in. With all the lukewarm Dick Grayson writing floating around I felt like walking into a coffee shop while it's snowing outside.

More of this writing, please.

I'd been waiting for this moment all through this series.

This conversation.

I compare things all the time. It might not be the right thing in every field but I think it serves well when it comes to comic books. We all have personal “canon criteria”—for example, mine are “Darwyn Cooke wrote this Bruce so I'm taking it as valid characterisation ” or “Every version of Bruce played by Kevin Conroy is valid”. (Minus Bruce Timm bullshit!)

Which was what cinched my hatred for Bruce after reading a Robin short story that Cooke wrote and alluded to Robin: Year One in it. I mean, I might not fuck with Dixon, but am I going to call even Cooke's Bruce OOC? No. It means Bruce is a jerk. Full stop.

Waid is one of the writers I respect (excluding Kingdom Come. I hate it and I can't put my finger on the why. But I just do: I hate it. I hate it for Clark. I hate it for Diana. And I'm a professional Bruce-hater so let's not even go there. I hate it for Dick too.)

And Dick and Bruce's relationship has a lot of baggage from the fact that a) Bruce is himself traumatised and fails to meet Dick's emotional needs b) he wasn't ready to be a father when he adopted Dick c) Dick simply suffers from being the eldest—the test child.

And very rarely have I seen writers manage to walk on the thin line of complicated-but-dedicated-and-strong.

Young Justice cartoon did it. Dick and Bruce's relationship is going strong. But they fight and have different values. And Dick can see all that is wrong with Bruce's approach to vigilantism in particular and life in general.

Grimm (Legends of the Dark Knight #149-154) did it right. Where Bruce hurt Dick deeply and made him feel unwanted all the while overthinking about Dick's well-being. Way to go, buddy! You can see the repercussions it has for Dick while simultaneously stare at this man who's tying himself into knots trying to think how best to parent.

I think that's what most Bruce and Dick comics miss: the excessive worrying. They don't show the worry, make them fight for drama, never address it apart from throwing out a “it's because Bruce's worried” (bitch, where?) and have Dick running back to Gotham at the first chance. It sounds an awful lot like “your parents hurt you 'cause they love you” bullshit.

I think World's Finest manages it well because foremost, Bruce says, in words, that he's worried about Dick's well-being. He's taciturn, he's putting constant pressure on Dick all in the hopes of making him quit Titans. All this makes him a jerk. But I don't hate him for it.

It's between Dick's “you don't trust me” and Bruce's “no, I don't trust them.”

Most teenagers clash with their parents. It's normal. That's what Waid has shown here and I love it. It feels very—normal?

Especially when the Bats aren't normal! Bruce sure as fuck ain't a normal parent. But there was something very bitter-sweet coming-of-age in this conversation.

Bruce does all those things that are bad for Dick and his growing independence. You're not supposed to handle teenagers like that.

He's worried and taking desperate measures. “If I punish him, then maybe he'll obey me and quit Titans and then he'll he safe”—lots of parents who don't know how to deal with teenagers do it.

But the sequence of it: Bruce is worried → Bruce wants Dick to quit Titans → for Dick it means proving himself to be better, to not get hurt (as if he can control that beyond a certain point) → Bruce being alarmed at Dick's insistence to stay with the Titans and taking desperate measures like benching him.

At least it makes sense.

Compare it to Dixon's Nightwing origin story, which honestly, personally I think was lazy writing. Drama for drama's sake. “You’re fired because you're spending too much time with the Titans.” The same writer also had Bruce say that he did it because he wanted Dick to strike out on his own. Blah, blah, blah.

And no matter whatever happens he'd never ever say it to Dick's face that he's worried about him because—well, reasons.

Robin: Year One logic:

I'm worried about Dick's health so I fire him. He runs off and can get hurt? He joins a school for assasins? None of my business. He can get hurt on his own, I don't care as long as it is not on my conscience. Peace.

—Bruce “professional narcissist” Wayne.

So, yes. When faced with this book(WF: TT), I'd call Dixon's writing lazy.

I'm also comparing this to several other instances when Bruce verbally says (never to Dick, mind you) that he loves that Dick's a better person and better vigilante than him. But in the same book he'd yell at Dick for exactly the same thing. (I consider that lazy writing, since BTAS made sure to show a shot of Bruce smiling whenever Dick was happy/not like him).

I like this thing here where he says it to Dick's face. He's still grounding him for “discipline's sake” or whatever—very, very IC for Bruce.

But he also lets Dick know that he appreciates his values, that are different—better—than Bruce's own.

I can stomach that.

Honestly Bruce's writing in this book felt like BtAS writing (pre-Bruce Timm fuckery). That's a compliment.

P.S. Waid's a good story-teller overall. His Superman: Birthright was one of the first Superman comics I read and I fell in love with Clark right away.

Peace ✌️😂

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #batman #world's finest #teen titans #robin #titans #wf: tt #world's finest: teen titans #dc #comics

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snowprincesa1 · 8 months

Text

{A Fool of A Brother (2/2)}

//Grown!Daemon x Grown!F!Arryn!Reader//

Summary: Daemon just cannot bring himself to let you go

[Trigger warnings‼️ contains NSFW and Daemon]

Daemon insisted that your presence was necessary in kingslanding, stating that it would be good for the Queen’s health.

“It would be excellent for her marriage prospects as well” Daemon said to king Viserys in the comfort of his bedchamber where he sculpted listening to his brother trying to convince him to keep you in the red keep them send you back.

“Daemon, Do you like the girl?” He asked aiming straight for the head. Daemon stayed quiet not knowing what to say or admit

“No. She’s far too different from me, we clash at every corner” he sighed. He later said it would be best to keep you by the queen��s side instead of rotting in the Vale with the painfully dry Vale men. Daemon had somehow managed to stall his marriage to Rhea Royce for even longer keeping the ‘bronze bitch’ in the vale single and unwed.

Daemon had grown much more taller whereas you remained the same height, he grew from a lean teenager to a muscled prince, now when Daemon takes you on walks with your hand resting on his arm you swear you feel muscle and it sends a shameful shiver of lust down your spine. Were you so easily swayed by a man who was both lean and had some muscle? You shook away thoughts of him. You remained relatively the same, gaining more of a womanly figure if anything. You still wore a light veil over the back of your hair with a jewelled headband at the front. You grew quite popular amongst the lords and ladies being unwed you had many eyes on you. You spent your days reading, praying, embroidering and talking with the ladies and being in the company of your sister. The red keep felt like home.

You were praying in a Sept finding a minute of peace when you heard familiar foot steps, you didn’t have to look back to tell who it is “Daemon, go away” You said your hands still clasped together as you tried to concentrate on your prayer. “Are you praying again?” He asked, Was it not obvious? You opened your eyes to send him a glare to which he responded with a cheeky smile. Her sat beside you watching you pray “are you done now?” He asked impatiently. You couldn’t pray with daemon breathing down your neck.

“What is it?” You snapped in irritation, Daemon remained unphased. “I have something for you” you groaned in response “If it is a toad again I will kill you”

“Threatening to murder the commander of the city watch and the prince of the seven kingdoms. You could never change” He smirked “You’re like a tree forever stuck in one spot until someone uproots you”

“If i am not mistaken a tree symbolises qualities like wisdom and stability” You retorted

“None of which you have” he quickly added before smiling smugly “turn around for me” He instructed. You hesitantly turned your back to him when you heard the sound of metal and suddenly felt cold steel at the base of your neck. “Valyrian steel” you gasped looking at the necklace “where did you get this—“

“I had it made for you. I cannot bear to see your neck so bare” he sighed dramatically. Oh yes, another aspect of daemon which came unexpectedly was his protectiveness over you. If your wore anything revealing he would keep an eye out for the lords, the guards, everyone! “You are the pervert, Daemon” You would laugh. He would accompany you everywhere if possible much to your annoyance. If you headed out? He would send his finest guard’s or accompany you himself to the seamstress,,, he said it was his duty as he was the one who took you from the sulking weather of the Vale, which you so happened to miss fondly.

You stayed in kingslanding for about six whole years, now a woman of twenty two and you somehow missed the Vale like a child, you missed your half brother Elys and the rest of your friends there. Your sister Aemma was going through hell losing babies over and over and giving birth to stillborns. You begged Viserys to let Aemma be but he said having a male heir is the duty of the king. Rhaenyra was growing up nicely, she being absolutely fond of you. The hand’s daughter Alicent visited the red keep as well, the two girls often following your trail and copying your mannerisms. Especially Alicent, who was also a devout follower of the faith.

Daemon was..Daemon, he carried out his commander duties brutally maiming almost half the city in a span of single night. Of course it was only the ones deserving of punishment who were tortured, Daemon had single-handedly lessened the crimes in Kings landing. He preferred to spend his night sleeping around with whores in the streets of silk. Daemon’s taste was peculiar, before he had met you he always preferred women with silver Valyrian hair. One night he saw a consort who had the same colour of your hair, not quite the same texture but the thought of you as bare as her sent blood rushing to his lower half. He shamelessly ended up fucking the woman from the back imagining your moans and cries instead of hers. He came with your name on his lips. It wasn’t the same, he wanted to know what you felt like, whether you would be a brat or submissive. Mysaria ended up dying her hair the same colour as yours for Daemon but nothing worked she could never get the prince to look away from you.

Daemon tried so hard to seduce you. His failed attempts were pitiful, you were dead set on following the proper traditions that is sharing a bed with a husband. Daemon could not understand how you managed to push him away? When thoughts of you had stayed in his mind throughout all his days and it was driving him mad. For some reason one day he ended up ‘hugging’ you from behind, in all honesty it was a tackle to annoy you. His head buried in your neck as he tried to keep you still and stop you from whatever the hell you were doing. The scent of you was too much for him, too sweet, now he knew what you smelt like upclose and he wanted more. The prince practically rushed out of the room to deal with his growing ‘problem’ that would keep him occupied for the rest of the day. Your relationship with Daemon was weird, you fought like cats and dogs but yet there’s no one else you would rather spend your time with. Hell you even missed him when he went away. Whenever Viserys was mad at Daemon you would put in a word and calm him down, it was very odd how soft you had grown for Daemon. And Aemma and viserys were not blind to it. Daemon would attend dinners you did and sit by your side, ‘accidentally’ grazing your hands reaching for a dish or passing you the wine. It was driving you insane, these little touches his rough hand gently touching yours, you were not blind to how handsome he had grown. The Gods would have to forgive you for lusting over a betrothed man.

The temptation Daemon posed over you, like a hanging fruit in sight but out of reach for you. He was doing it on purpose you knew, you weren’t daft but God did it work. You started growing jealous about the fact that Daemon spent his nights in brothels, complaining about how it wasn’t right and princely but deep down you were just bitter with jealousy.

Daemon always believed that he was immune to jealousy delusional but that was proved wrong for Rhaenyra’s seventh name day. It was decided that a tourney be held for the Realm’s Delight. Rhaenyra was a mischievous one, often teasing her uncle with you regardless of the lords and ladies in her presence and that set off even more rumours about the two of you, but no one dare say anything to you fearing the rage of Daemon and Caraxes.

You knew daemon was to participate for the tourney so you didn’t bother searching for him in the morning. He was undoubtedly practicing and you didn’t want to disturb him. You were to sit next to your sister Aemma but you suddenly saw a familiar face from the Vale, lords of the Vale had come to participate and bet on the winners. You looked at your sister in delight, it was she who planned this for you because she knew how much you had missed the Vale. You took your seat next to a minor Vale lord talking to him and catching up on all that had happened.

Daemon was watching from the stands as the squire put on his night black Targaryen armour. He looked to see you looking so beautiful in a light purple gown, looking so radiant in the sunlight and then he saw the disgusting man next to you and he saw red. Rhaenyra didn’t help either, she was visibly mocking Daemon motioning kissing signs between you and the lord enraging him even more. He knew you were unwed, he hoped you would not fall for some unknown lord of the Vale.

“You should come back to the Vale, you have spent far too much time here in kingslanding” your friend Gerald said

“I suppose that is true..almost seven years” you muttered “but I’ve been happy” you said looking at Daemon who was getting on his horse.

“You are a maiden of twenty two and still unwed, you should start living for yourself instead of just tending to the Royal family, I’m not saying it’s necessary to marry to be happy..but think of the long run” he said, Gerald cared for you and did not wish for you to be a spinster.

“I know Gerald” you sighed

“You have been waiting for him..but he is betrothed, to another” he said “come back to the Vale perhaps then you could come back to your senses” he said.

“What— prince Daemon? For the last time there is absolutely nothing going on—”

“That I know, and that is the problem. He’s not yours and you’re here all doe eyed waiting for him” you felt all the fire in your soul dampen at his words, the hopes and delusions you had been clinging onto desperately being pulled from beneath you “I did not mean to upset you”

“I’m not upset” you said blinking away tears. Perhaps Gerald was right..you certainly didn’t want him to be. You missed the Vale, a quick trip wouldn’t hurt. It would be rid of Daemon and you can think for yourself and come to your senses just like Gerald said.

“Gerald can I ask you for a favour?” You asked leaning in to tell him something to which he willingly agreed to.

Rhaenyra yelled something in high Valyrian mocking Daemon that made ser Harold have to gently escort her away from the stands. Away from the already fuming prince. What were you saying to that lord? He was upset with the lord and he was upset with you. He decided to get revenge he knew you would expect him to ask you for your favour like he did in the other tourneys but he decided to play with you a little. When riding his horse his lance stopped before you almost as though asking you for your favour, you were about to stand to give him it— when he suddenly tilted the lance towards another woman. The woman blushing gave him her favour willingly. Daemon’s looked at you smirking all the while as he felt as though he had the upper hand. Your face was a mixture of shock and jealousy.

Gerald leaned in “I told you” he said before your face completely fell in sadness. You looked away from daemon. Daemon should have relished seeing you upset like he did at that moment, but instead it tore him up in the inside. It was too late now, he would have to apologise for this he knew. Lord Gerald spent the rest of the tourney cheering you up and you even ended up giving your favour to a lord from the Vale itself, but of course he was upstaged by daemon’s battle skill. Daemon felt like he had lost seeing as to how you ignored him. When the tourney ended Daemon had won. He raised his lance in the air listening to the claps of the audience. He turned to look at you but saw that your seat was empty. You were now sitting back next to your sister telling her something, Aemma looked upset but seemed to agree nonetheless. The feast would be a perfect opportunity to try and make up for what he’d done, perhaps he could kiss your hurt better, he fantasised for himself as the squire took off his armour. How would your lips feel on his?. God forbid he sees you with that lord, he’d probably pull you away there and then and take you somewhere more private where just the two of you could spend time..but then again you’d never allow it. Daemon was surprisingly introverted, only ever trusting a few of his guards and his family and never bothered to converse with anyone else. You on the other hand though reserved, loved making conversation and talking to all the people. He thought more about you, a part of him felt smug over the fact that you were upset that he didn’t ask for your favour. Perhaps instead of apologising…he should tease you. Yes that would be much more preferable.

Daemon arrived late to the banquet, nothing unusual making his way into the hall stealing the attention from Viserys as usual. Rhaenyra was busy eating the lemon cakes, Daemon looked around he didn’t see you— anywhere for that matter? Were you so upset you were crying in your bedchambers? He should go see you and kiss your tears away if you let him of course.

He didn’t want to ask Viserys where you were, as the king already had doubts that he bore affections for you and he wanted to avoid providing his older brother more information on how he feels for you. Daemon slid his way to the dessert section where little Rhaenyra was, Rhaenyra looked up at her uncle with a smirk.

“Where is she?” He asked folding his arms

“With lord Gerar- Gerarld” she completely destroyed his name as she put a spoonful of cake in her mouth. Daemon couldn’t believe what this had come to, getting teased and mocked by his niece. He sends her a glare before taking the plate from little Rhaenyra as his pitiful sort of revenge. “That’s mine!” Rhaenyra yelled as he walked away.

He looked around to see Aemma and Viserys give him a look for taking a plate of cake from their seven year old daughter. She deserved it, he thought. He took a piece of cake eating it as he walked to his brother.

“Where’s the lady Arryn, she’s late” he said “I think you should let me discipline her for her tardiness..it’s unfitting for a lady like her” he said pulling a chair next to the married couple who he third wheeled. The Gods, Viserys and Aemma just wanted him to marry and go away at this point.

“Lady Arryn? I have no idea” Viserys said “and no you will assort no punishment of any sort” he said

Daemon looked to Queen Aemma who averted her gaze somewhere else “you know something regarding this, my queen?” He asked leaning on the table to intimidate her and get a response

“Don’t bother my wife..” Viserys sighed smoothening his scrunched up forehead.

“Does nobody in this fucking hall know where she is?!” He yelled causing the lords and ladies to look at his outburst. “Excuse me brother” he said leaving the banquet hall. He stormed out essentially. He was going to march up in your room but for some reason he had a bad feeling in his gut..why were you late? You were never late? The headache you caused him. He pushed open your bedchamber doors wide.

“You! Where have you been!” He asked “you didn’t congratulate me on my win or tend to me when I fell off my horse” he scolded you “what are you doing?” He asked with wide eyes, bags, packed bags. Your room was being emptied. “What is all this?” A handmaiden entered the room to take another bag wherever.

“I’m leaving Daemon” you said “is it not obvious?”

“No. No I will not allow it”

“I do not need YOUR PERMISSION and it’s already decided”

“What of your sister? What if she becomes with child again? She would need you by her side?”

“Daemon— she has maesters and—”

“What of Rhaenyra? The girl looks up to you! And you are just leaving like that!” Daemon sighed exasperated waking closer to you but still a distance apart

“I’m going to the Vale. I’m going home. You would not understand because you’ve lived here all your life! I miss home. I cannot be here any longer” Lie. You were running away because you could no longer wait around hoping that one day Daemon might cancel his betrothal and somehow marry you instead. Stupid dreams and fantasies.

‘Your home is here with us, with me’ is what Daemon wanted to say “you want to go to the Vale? Let us go on Caraxes!” He yelled

“I don’t want to!”

Daemon’s anger morphed into realisation.

“You don’t want to be around me” he said chuckling why else would you reject his excellent idea, who would give up a ride on a dragon? “Have I bothered you to the point you have to run away from me? When have you been such a craven!”

“Why shouldn’t I go!”

“I just told you the reasons!” Daemon yelled back “your sister! The queen! Your niece! Viserys!” His name being stuck at the back of his throat “maybe even me” he finally choked out as his hand went to reach for the valyrian necklace encircled around your neck. “You cannot even get rid of me entirely, you still wear my necklace like a collar”

“Maybe is not enough for me to stay!”

“Very well then, you want a reason to stay?” He asked now towering over your figure his nose almost touching yours “let me give you one”

He tilted your head upwards giving you a breath stealing kiss, his arms wrapping around your body holding you close to him. You kissed back with all the anger all the love you feel. “I cannot let you leave” he said in between kisses, the two of you barely parting for air. Daemon pushed you towards the bed “you and your stupid morals” he insulted kissing you deeply “you and your stubbornness” he said pressing his face in the crook of your neck. “You never know what’s best for you” his hands grabbing a hold of your thighs slapping the fat of it.

“And what is best for me?” You asked looking at him

“Staying here with me” he said his hand thumb sliding into your mouth your soft lips wrapping around his thick finger “suck” he ordered before switching his thumb for his index and ring finger. His fingers gagged you shutting you up, your mouth drooling from the intrusion. “I suppose a holy maiden such as yourself has never experienced pleasure? Tell me have you ever touched yourself?” You refused to answer the question “I suppose that is a no” Daemon smirked “Do you know what that means?” he asked pushing his hand under your skirts. You shook your head anticipating his next action

“It means that will be the first and last person to touch you here” he said his thumb pressing at your weeping entrance, your cunt clenching around nothing begging for more of his touch. His fingers spread the wetness around teasingly almost entering you making you gasp “Take off your gown for me and make it slow” he ordered taking his hand away from your needy parts. With shaky legs you stood unclasping your light purple gown letting it drop to the floor. Your mind filled with lust, what was one time? One time with the man you loved? Surely the Gods can find it in themselves to forgive you for your wanton nature.

“I said take it all off” he said motioning for you to take off your last small clothes leaving you bare and exposed in your bedchambers. The only thing that rested on your neck was the necklace he gifted you. Daemon rested on the bed with his legs spread his eyes looked at every part of you. Your neck, your chest, your tits, your ass, your legs, your cunny. It send jolts of pleasure down his body his dick hardened and a bulge forming in his breeches “Gevie” he muttered, this was better than what he had imagined. His hand reached out for you pulling you by the hips as he placed kisses on every part of your body in sight. He made sit on the bed, making you spread your legs for him showing him your leaking cunny. Before you knew it his hands were wrapped around your thighs and his head in your centre licking a strike of your entire cunt with his tongue. You tried to push yourself away at the foreign sensation but Daemon wasn’t having it. His hands preventing you from going any further away from him. He sucked on your clit watching you squirm and arch your back “Daemon” you moaned. You were in literal heaven. Why had you denied yourself of such pleasure. Daemon licked, sucked and kissed your cunt making you come twice on his tongue, your legs were shaking around his head as you begged saying you couldn’t any more. Daemon licked up all of your release before he pushed a finger inside your cunny, you gasped at the stretch, seeing you were adjusting to the feeling he added another finger, telling you to relax and enjoy the feel his tongue went back to work licking your poor little overstimulated pearl over and over your hole clenched tightly around his fingers he knew you were going to come again, his movements were fast and hard making you roll your eyes at the back of your head as you came hard all over his fingers. The bed soaked with your juices. Daemon’s face wet, he wore a devilish grin on his face. He climbed onto the bed pulling off his benches to show his recent thick length. Hell would that even fit inside you?

“Lie on your back” He ordered and you followed obediently Daemon hovered over you, you finally got what you wanted the sinful proximity between the two of you. His hands intertwined with yours as he distracted you by kissing your lips passionately. You felt him enter, he was so much bigger and he pushed himself in slowly “breathe, my love” he said before pinching your tits hard causing you to gasp. He slid in fully. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, your arms still being held by daemon who now pinned them over your head. The stretch of his full cock in your walls, breaking your maidenhead he let you experience the burn, the pain, the pleasure all together. Daemon let out a moan as he felt you clench around him tightly. This was what he always dreamt about. What he always wanted. You.

Daemon had been patient enough, his slow and firm thrusts quickening. Every thrust hammering your insides as your tits bounced, Daemon was enchanted. He help your hips tightly pounding into you even reaching further, making your back arch and you begged Daemon to let you touch him. Daemon, Daemon, Daemon. The only thoughts that ran in your head as he kissed you his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth as he pounded into you. He let out little moans as he pressed his forehead against yours. As he made love to you. The moment he saw your jaw go slack, he knew you were close. He kept his rhythm steady feeling your orgasm release all over him and the sheets. He left you whimpering underwing him from the overstimulation “good girl” he said plopping on the bed his cock still erect and heavy “can you ride a dragon?” He said leaning on the headboard. You wanted to please him nodding as you straddled his hips pressing the head of his cock into your entrance as you lowered yourself onto him. The position made your toes curl, the way you sunk onto him and lifted yourself over and over. Daemon couldn’t help but watch how your slick pussy gushed all over his cock. His moans increased as he felt his eyebrows press together, he held your hips tightly thrusting harshly into you, it was too much for Daemon, he could no longer hold back he released his hot seed in the walls of your tight cunny, your cum from your fifth orgasm oozed out. White sticky fluids from your puffy folds. Daemon had seen no better art piece, you would be a muse for any artist.

You lay on top of daemon who stroked the back of your hair “you were perfect. You are perfect.” he smiled his dimples showing. You were breathless, tired, exhausted passing into unconsciousness. Daemon chuckled wrapping his arms around you. You were his. And he was going to go to hell and back if he was denied you.

Daemon had ordered for all your clothes to be moved into his bedchamber, he told lord Gerald that you had no intention to leave kingslanding as you were to marry him. The whispers between the servants reached the ears of Viserys thanks to his hand Otto Hightower.

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING DAEMON!” He yelled at his younger brother who was making arrangements for you in his room “you have dishonoured her! And you take no effort to even hide the fact!”

“I have every intention to wed her, brother” Daemon said rolling his eyes at the king.

“you are betrothed to ANOTHER” Viserys’ blood boiled. How could he have done such a thing to his own family to you! When he knew damn well he was meant to wed another.

“Another who is not of my choosing!” Daemon said to his brother losing his patience.

“The marriage pact with Rhea was settled years ago! We cannot go against our word” he argued

“You are the king, the blood of the dragon runs in you. You do not need anyone’s permission! Your word is the law, the truth”

“Daemon, I have spent a life time defending you! But your heart is even blacker than I thought”

“Wed her to me..I want to marry Lady Arryn”

“You think I don’t know that, you fool?! But you have wronged lady Rhea! Kept her waiting for years!”

“I have bedded her already brother. It is done. It is decided” Daemon said

Viserys slapped him across the face for his insolent behaviour.

“Tell me brother..” Daemon said holding his cheek pressing on the hurt part of his face. It didn’t hurt at all he just wanted to get some sympathy from Viserys “what of how you wronged y/n” he chuckled “when you passed her over for her younger sister”

“That was different!” He thundered at the accusation thrown by Daemon

“Make it right, wed her to me. I’ll take her as she is and wed her in the tradition of our house. Give me Y/n to take to wife and we will return the house of the dragon to its proper glory” he said almost begging his brother.

It was no secret that Daemon and you had strong chemistry, Viserys and his wife Aemma often joking about making a mistake betrothing Rhea to him instead of you. He supposed he always expected his younger brother to pull this sort of move. And he unfortunately had a very good point, you were passed off for your younger sister which was an insult by itself, being rejected by the king.

“Fine, I will allow this marriage to take place, but just know that it is not for you but instead Lady Arryn” he sighed. “And I don’t want to hear any complaint from now onwards? You will obey my every command henceforth if you are to marry lady Arryn” daemon would definitely do as he pleases, but he nods hugging his brother “you were always weak when it comes to me, brother” he smirked looking at his brother. “Showing empathy is weak now?” Viserys smiled patting Daemon’s shoulders. “Are you sure marriage is what you desire?”

“Marriage matters to me when it is with her..” he smiled “I am serious about her brother.”

“I will talk to the Royce’s and make it up to them somehow” he said “how excited was she when you proposed?”

“Oh I didn’t propose” Viserys wanted to chuck Daemon out of the window. This whole argument when you hadn’t even consented to the marriage “DAEMON!”

“She’s asleep brother. You cannot expect me to disturb her!” Viserys at that moment wanted to put down his crown and run away to Essos. How much more of his brother’s idiocy could he handle? Well anyways he’s your problem now.

Needless to say the marriage took place swiftly thanks to Daemon’s groomzilla tendencies. The man wanted the wedding to be private between only the families. You were more than happy to comply. Daemon and you still didn’t cease your nonsensical arguments, now finding new ways of letting out that anger and love in bed together.

Daemon wasn’t a perfect husband, he was irrational, emotional, pessimistic, but he stayed the loyalest of all the husbands in Westeros stopping all his trips to the streets of silk rather spending them with you, the woman he loved so dearly. With each passing year Daemon grew even more mature with the birth of your first child a baby girl who you both named Baela who inherited that fire and passion of your husband who was also spoiled rotten by him with gifts.

Daemon proved to be the best husband you could have ever asked. You would always remember to tell him that when he took you for rides on his dragon Caraxes and whispered sweet promises to you. You had no doubt about it, marrying him was the best decision he had ever made for you. You knew he would put his life on the line for you or Baela if need be, he was your fiercest protector.

“Did I ever mention I love you?” You asked looking to your husband as you both flew on Caraxes. Daemon knew you often felt like you under appreciated him when you really did love him.

“More times than I can count” he chuckled kissing your cheek

“Perhaps I should stop then, I can’t have you growing indifferent to my love”

“If you do anything of the sort, just know that I cannot promise you that I will not exact revenge” he smiled kissing the top of your head.

“And what revenge would you take against me, your wife?” You asked smiling back

“I will teach Baela cuss words” he said smirking triumphantly.

“DAEMON DON’T YOU DARE!”

#house of the dragon #Daemon Targaryen x reader #house of the dragon x reader #daemon Targaryen x oc #daemon Targaryen x female oc #daemon Targaryen imagines #Daemon Targaryen fluff #daemon Targaryen smut #house of the dragon x oc #house of the dragon x female oc #dark!daemon targaryen #prince daemon targaryen #a song of ice and fire x oc #a song of ice and fire x female oc #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #daemon targeryan

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reveluving · 6 months

Text

if the skirt fits ; andy barber x reader

summary: Andy finds a little secret of yours.

warnings: heavily implied s~mut; costume kink (minors DNI!), familial fluff & mild humour!

a/n: you don't know how happy I am for finally sharing this piece with y'all, considering how it has been collecting dust in my drafts since LAST YEAR, but here it is; one of my earliest ideas for the series! don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

“It fits you perfectly,” He purred, almost deep in thought—probably in his own fantasy, “So perfectly.” ;

"You could dress up as Jason?" You suggested what might’ve been the seventh costume idea since the drive home from dinner at the Thai restaurant nearby.

"Done that." Jacob replied as he leaned forward from his seat to talk to you and his father.

"Spiderman?"

"I feel like everyone's dressing up as Spiderman this year."

"But not everyone's going to dress up as the same one." You had a point, considering how you and his dad were the first victims of his Spiderverse fixation since the second movie was released, so you knew what you were talking about.

"I guess,” Jacob thought for a moment before falling back in his seat, taking your idea into consideration, “I guess I just want something… different."

"If you want different, then we could get you one of those inflatable dinosaur costumes on the internet." Andy held a playful look even as his eyes remained on the road.

"Very funny, dad." His son grumbled, despite fighting back his own smile.

"Aw, cheer up, Jake. You've got time." You reassured him.

“Yeah… And I’m not too worried. The store next to Aunt Sarah’s bakery got some cool stuff when I bought last year’s costume,” Jacob mused before asking you, "What about you, mom? Have you thought of a costume yet?"

Ah, mom. Even after all this time, you and Andy will never get tired of him calling you that.

"Mmm, not yet. But when I do, I'll make sure you're the first to know." You and Jacob shared a smile in the rear-view mirror, only to be interrupted by Andy clearing his throat.

"Uh, you're gonna tell him first and not me?" He cocked his head, feigning disbelief.

"Of course. You lost that privilege when you suggested Jake the dinosaur costume." You and Jacob laughed as Andy dramatically groaned, telling you ‘I didn’t mean it’ in an angsty teenager tone.

"I am not dressing up Ken." Andy answered, removing his watch and leaving it on the vanity table.

"Oh, c'mon, Cowboy Barber has a nice ring to it." You said with a lilt.

"And where exactly am I going to find a Western shirt in my size?" He quirked an eyebrow at you.

"We could always ask the Flags. Her husband might have one hidden somewhere."

"Just because we've seen him with a cowboy hat last Halloween?" He remembered seeing him wearing one during the community party at the park.

"You'd never know. Barbie and Ken are safer than your recommendation." You opened the closet without taking your accusatory eyes off him.

"What's wrong with a devil and an angel?"

"Andy." Surely he could tell how ridiculous he sounded.

"It's… easy…? And you'd look really good in it." He tried to persuade you, standing next to you.

"At a party full of kids?" You weren't sure how the parents that were a little more… conservative would feel about their kids' teacher dressing up like that.

"I didn't say it was for Wilson's party. It's for our afterparty," He wiggled his brows, "Just you and me while Jake stays over at the Wilson's."

You snorted. How cheesy of him.

"Wilson's party first, then whatever you want after," You turned back to the hanging clothes, "And besides, you should be the devil, not me."

That wasn't a no.

"You know what," He pursed his lips, already considering your idea—especially with the black suit he knew you'd melt over, plus a red tie before dodging the swat of your hand with a laugh. Just then, he noticed you'd been searching for something for a while, unbuttoning his cuffs and folding his sleeves before asking, “Need some help?”

“I can’t find my panties. The baby blue ones.” You frowned.

“The one with the lace?” He asked, prompting you to nod, “I mean, as much as I love seeing you in those, you know I don’t mind you without any in the first place.”

“Nice try, Barber," You narrowed your eyes at him, gesturing to the drawers in front of him before you rummaged through the pile of folded clothes on the bottom rack, “Help me search the drawers, please.”

He did as he was told, looking through the first stack before moving on to the next.

There was little progress in your searches but your curiosity was only piqued when out of the corner of your eye, Andy was looking closely at something.

“Did you find it?”

He took a quick breath before answering, “No, but I did find something better.”

You furrowed your brows, standing up to ask what he meant by that until you caught sight of the familiar skirt he held.

Plaid, grey and extremely short.

Uh oh.

You clasped your hands together in front of your tummy as you stared at the microskirt with wide eyes. You were even failing to notice him slowly breaking into a smirk. He didn’t stop there, reaching into the drawer he was looking into with his other hand to take out the matching tie. Your lips parted, darting your eyes between the article of clothing and the smug look on his face.

“I can explain,” You finally spoke up, your voice softer than you hoped for.

“Please, do,” He held the ends of the untied tie with both hands, “Because I’m pretty sure these are too small to be mine.”

Oh, he was going to have some fun with this.

“Well, it’s, y’know,” You moved your hands around, only to silently plea for him to understand without having you say it, “Andy, c’mon. You know what it is.”

It wasn’t enough for him, though, raising his brows and encouraging you to continue.

He was clearly enjoying this. A whole lot.

Unbelievable.

“It’s my old costume.”

He hummed, appraising the garment as he immediately imagined what you would look like in it, “So my pretty girl has a dirty secret of her own. Did you break any necks when you pranced around the neighbourhood in this?”

“In my defence, I only wore that once, when I was in college, so,” You corrected him, recalling the party you attended in your final year.

“So, you broke college boys’ necks.”

“I didn’t say that,” You shook your head in amusement, “I just didn’t have the heart to give it away. It was just one of those rare times where I truly enjoyed living in the city.”

Though the city wasn’t far from Reve Road, and hell, you’ve even thought about moving back once or twice in your earlier days, truthfully, you haven’t been there in ages, and thank goodness, too. What would life be like if you hadn’t stayed, made a name in the peaceful neighbourhood and met the Barbers?

"Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes," You mustered a small smile, though it didn't quite reach your eyes, "But I had my fun. Grew up to be a city girl, earned my degree and let out my ‘wilder’ side a couple of times. But I love it here more, and if I want to keep my job, the last thing my students and my son need to see when they go trick-or-treating is their Literature teacher in this."

You shared a hearty laugh. Your wonders about who or what you could’ve been if you stayed in the city were nothing more than a mere curiosity, and even then, it hardly mattered to you now.

“Wouldn’t hurt to relive the old days here in our room.” Oh?

"You can't be serious," You chuckled nervously, "It might not even fit."

You were lying—you barely looked any different from your college years. You just weren’t sure if you were ready to see his reaction over such scandalous attire.

"All the more reason to try it," He replied confidently, closing the gap between the two of you. His voice deepened as he whispered, "C’mon. You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?"

Like the gentleman he was, he used your weakness against you.

You knew you were done for when you gulped under his intense stare, cocking his head in the bathroom’s direction.

You snatched the garments out of his grasp, the ‘deathly’ glare on your face contrasted with his conceited one as you obtained the shirt that came with it out of the same drawer. He continued to hold your gaze even as you closed the door.

Once you were alone, you couldn’t help but let out a silent scream.

You were too embarrassed to even face the mirror as you got dressed, not until you slid on the last piece—the skirt before turning around to look at yourself. You could barely acknowledge the coincidence of covering your face with your hands like a bumbling schoolgirl.

Because that was exactly what you looked like.

You remembered washing the set a couple of times after your first and only wear, and even then, you didn’t think the skirt could shrink that little. Your ass was hanging out of the hem, offering an ample peek at the black bikini brief you had taken with you.

You came out of the bathroom, ignoring the warmth spreading through your body as you were met with Andy sitting at his side of the bed, shamelessly displaying the prominent tent bulging in his pants.

He hummed in approval before beckoning you to his lap, "Come here."

You kept your gaze on the ground as you walked over to him, standing in between his legs.

"Come here." He repeated, this time, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he tapped his knee.

You let out the softest whimper, your arms encircling his neck before straddling one of his thick thighs. He rested his hands on your hips, only to run them up and down your body, watching your face already contorting between bashfulness and desire.

“It fits you perfectly,” He purred, almost deep in thought—probably in his own fantasy, “So perfectly.”

He pulled you closer, bouncing his knee to rub against your clothed sex. Electricity coursed through your body over the not-so-innocent move, your breathing growing heavier by the second as he teased you further.

“But you haven’t answered my question yet. Did they or did they not stare at you when you wore this?”

He rendered you speechless. You were beginning to think your heart might burst out of your chest at any point.

“I’m sure they did,” A part of him wanted to be annoyed but miffed was a better way to put it. Not at you, though, he could never. You were just trying to have fun and make the most out of what life had to offer. But if he was there to see you in this the first time you had it, likely showing your wilder side, oh, he couldn’t lie and say you wouldn’t catch his eye either.

“But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore,” His hands slid past the hem, lifting it for him to drink in the sight of your curves, “It’s just you and me now.”

You dropped your head on his shoulder, hoping to stifle the moan that threatened to slip past your lips.

“Just imagine me bending you over the bed so I can get a peak of what’s mine underneath,” He sighed dreamily, smiling when your ass jiggled as he grabbed at and squeezed them, “Or should I throw you on the bed and have you on your knees?”

You didn’t answer, too focused on the way he groped your body until you jumped at the resounding crack and the sting that came with it on your left cheek.

"Does it come with thigh highs?" He asked ever so casually as if he wasn’t straining to have you just as much as you were him.

"I-It did, but… I kinda lost it."

"That's fine. I can always get you a new one," He nosed your jaw, "In fact, I'll buy you more than just a pair. Maybe match some with your panties."

You mewled, raising your head and granting him access to your neck.

“You'd do everything your favourite professor tells you to do, wouldn’t you?”

Fuck.

“Andy, I–” You nearly called him Professor Barber when the sounds of knocking on your door caused you and your husband to freeze up.

"Mom, dad,” It was Jacob, “I think Beemo's been collecting… socks under the couch?"

Like a fish out of water, your mind was too blank to respond or even acknowledge the question. Thankfully, Andy was able to do it for you, “We’ll be right there!”

The two of you waited until his footsteps receded before you were able to let out a sigh of relief. Andy, on the other hand, had the audacity to chuckle at you. There was no reason for you to worry about scarring Jacob since Andy had already locked the door.

“Very funny.” You murmured sarcastically, moving off him and loosening the tie, hoping to ignore the ache in between your legs for the time being.

“Hilarious,” He cockily added, standing up with an almost pained groan. He stood behind you before wrapping his arms around your waist, “But this isn’t over.”

You stopped.

“I meant what I said about buying you thigh highs with it. Or better yet, some fishnets because my wife’s not so innocent after all.”

Despite getting cockblocked, he was immensely satisfied to see you shiver.

‘Beemo, are you collecting underwear too?’ You heard Jacob ask the cat incredulously, only for a ‘wait!’, followed by his footsteps going down the stairs, probably chasing the feline with whoever’s briefs or undies he had in his mouth. You could only hope it wasn’t yours.

“And, that’s our cue,” His shoulders slumped, only to growl in your ear, “Wear this for me tomorrow after dinner.”

He then released you with a big smooch on your cheek, exiting the room to find his son, but not before winking at you.

Leaving you to wonder on your own if he’d throw you on the bed or have you on his lap tomorrow.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: now is a good time to say; no, I have yet to come back to the series, but I was too stoked about this event and thought 'hey, this should be the best time!'

» consider it as a mini compensation! but I do want to thank you for still sticking around, just know 'future mrs barber' is nowhere near discontinuing! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

#— reve's reverie 🌹#reve's quirky reverie 🕷#future mrs barber series #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x f!reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #chris evans #chris evans reader #chris evans x reader #defending jacob #defending jacob fic #jacob barber

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 22 days

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I don’t know if you’ve already covered this, but I had a question to ask about the VDC in Book 5. To clarify, I understand that RSA needed to win for thematic and character arc purposes, and that in-lore it was an audience vote not a professional one. The story beats line up. But the choice of cutesy and childlike RSA performance over the more refined and professional NRC performance still doesn’t quite click with me. Is there some kind of cultural difference that didn’t translate to explain why one performance was supposed to be understood as preferred over the other? Even if it was an audience vote, the standards should be higher just by virtue of this being a big name competition for teenagers held at a prestigious school.

Very quickly, I want to add a couple other points that help to explain why RSA won over NRC! Book 6 opens early on with Vil noting that NRC was not able to perform as well as they wanted to since they had just come out of a difficult battle against his OB form. (Because of this, he accepts responsibility for their loss.) Thus, the NRC performance may not have actually been as "refined", "professional", or as polished as we imagine it to be.

Additionally, it’s stated in book 5 that RSA’s song choice had universal appeal whereas NRC’s did not. We see this effect on the production crew when Neige and the Seven Dwarves do their practice run; their performance has a refreshing and soothing effect on what appears to be an older audience (as it plays to their nostalgia); we must consider this when evaluating RSA and NRC. For example, I know that I really disliked NRC's performance (sue me/j) because it sounded very oppressive and therefore unrelatable to me. The lyrics are literally about how NRC will dominate their opponents and win 😭 Sure, the music and lyrics for Neige's song aren't complex, but they're at the very least accessible and easy to follow along with. (That's not to say that I prefer RSA's performance though; I'm just explaining why someone might not find NRC's performance appealing.)

Lastly! We as players are looking at the two song + dance numbers from an omniscient perspective. We need to consider our own biases when judging, and accept that it may differ from the characters in-universe view things. Maybe you prefer NRC’s performance. That’s fair! But how much of that is informed by your personal music preferences? And how much of that comes from your attachment to the NRC characters, since you’ve followed their stories up until this point? As Rook points out in book 5, he’s aware of how hard NRC has worked to get here… but he’s also aware of Neige’s hardships too (er, in terms of his lifestyle; ie living with the dwarves and doing chores, etc.). Consider then, would you honestly not have a bias for RSA had Twisted Wonderland’s story centered on them instead of NRC?

It’s also worth noting that how things are seen in Twisted Wonderland may reflect its own unique culture rather than how we in the real world may perceive it. Maybe the people of Twisted Wonderland just prefer a cute, nostalgic performance. This may not necessarily correlate with west or east at all and that has always been a possibility! (While TWST does take inspirations from the real world, it’s not a 1:1 with the real world.)

dkhlbaiyfadvfoad Okay, NOW onto the actual question being pitched!

When you look at media from different countries, there are some stark differences in how the same information is presented. One example is like... any Gordon Ramsay show yes, I am using him as an example. Compare the American cut and the British cuts; there are much more loud sound effects, dramatic music, yelling, and cussing in the American cuts. The British cuts, by comparison, are notably quieter and contemplative, with hardly any cursing. Another example! Looking at variety shows from the east vs the west, they're quite different as well. Eastern variety shows tend to be "cute", usually using various cute sound effects or edits which make the guests appear more bashful (like drawing blush over their cheeks or something). We don't see this in western TV shows, which are louder and more boisterous. I've noticed a similar trend in the music industries of the east vs the west as well, where eastern stars tend to emphasize their youthfulness and playfulness and western stars try to be more "mature" and grown-up. These are just my personal observations and may not reflect reality, especially seeing as I am not involved in music-oriented spaces.

I asked friends and personal contacts in both eastern and western pop music fandom spaces for their own insights (which is also in no way representative of both fandoms, but at least this gives us other perspectives for consideration). To summarize, most of them replied that they did not think cultural differences account for this situation, since equating a preference for a "cute" aesthetic is not the same as RSA performing what is basically a nursery rhyme. There's no real-world equivalent for that (at least none that they can think of), and I agree with all of this. There’s really no point in trying to compare the two.

I remember lots of Japanese fans being upset at NRC’s loss too (when book 5’s ending was first put out), so the impression I got was they didn’t prefer the performance of RSA over NRC either. It was not just the international fandom that was disappointed. I don’t believe TWST ever intentionally set out to present “Everyone Yahoo!” as the “superior” song and dance number, or as the performance we’re supposed to like more than the other. It was very much framed as something pathetic and unlikely to win in most of the eyes of the NRC characters. They make fun of RSA’s clumsiness and claim it’ll be easy to win over them. The player most likely is supposed to think this way too—until Vil, the one with an eye for showbiz, realizes his loss. Why? Because it doesn’t matter what we think. What matters is how this clumsy performance will resonate with the common person.

What I think it ultimately comes down to is emotional appeal to the audience, which is more of a personal/individual level thing than a cultural thing. The competition is decided by audience vote. The average person honestly does not care about quality or standards. No one is giving them rules to evaluate by, no one is going to tell them off for not having strict standards. They will pick based on what they like best or whatever makes them feel good. And what will make anyone feel food, regardless of age, sex, race, education, socioeconomic status, etc.? Something cozy and familiar, thoughts of simpler times… Nostalgia.

Something else to think about is what a powerful motivator emotions can be. There are irl idol competition shows that are high stakes and decided by audience vote just like VDC/SDC… and people will still vote for their favorites even if they gave a technically bad performance. This is because fans are so emotionally invested in and attached to the performer. It doesn’t matter how “bad” they are, the performer/performance makes the audience member feel impassioned, and they will then act according to those intense feelings. Think about what you’re like when you’re in a terrible mood vs a good one. You act completely differently, right?

I hope that perspective helps! 🙏 I tried to be as thorough as I could be in this response, but please let me know if I misspoke or maybe missed a point.

P.S. I happen to be responding to this ask after TWST showed us the NRC Tribe’s dance performance in a MMD video. I wonder if this only made the “NRC should have own” crowd double down on that opinion since now we’re seeing just what their performance looks like 🤔 (though we don’t have a complete MMD video of Neige’s group to directly compare, just this which shows part of the dance and not in the same clumsy way that Neige and co. perform it).

#twisted wonderland #twst #Neige LeBlanche #Vil Schoenheit #Rook Hunt #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #book 6 spoilers #book 5 spoilers #notes from the writing raven #question #Seven Dwarves #Gordon Ramsay

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receivingtranny · 4 months

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just saw a post saying that men shouldn't be allowed to become therapists because they *will* rape women/girls or at best... mentally ill women and girls *will always* catch inappropriate romantic/sexual feelings for a male therapist (not even gonna touch the flaming pile of internalized misogynistic shit lying within the later statement) and just...

what the fuck you guys.

like yeah fuck the "not all men" attitude that's just a fucking scapegoat abusive men love to say for why they never hold themselves or other men accountable, but actually *genuinely* saying all men will rape and abuse if they became a therapist does nothing to offer solutions that will actually make therapy safe for people.

because i'm sorry but i've had nearly 40 therapists in my life and unfortunately i've had a mix of really harmful experiences from both male and female therapists. the best therapist i had was actually nonbinary. the second and third best were male.

i've had both male/female therapists try to convert me to christianity and say my illness was god punishing me for sinning. i've had female therapists enable my father to continue being sexually/psychologically/physically abusive under the guise of "you're probably just being a dramatic teenage genderfuck" they didn't say genderfuck but they definitely thought my queerness had given some reason for why my dad should be the one to help "get me on the right track".

so i ask you radfem bioessentialists, in your utopia without male therapists, what's your solution for people like myself? multigender/nonbinary people who are seeking therapy, or *gasp* perhaps even schooling to become a therapist? do i get a female therapist because i was AFAB? or no since i identify as a man and have a penis now I must be planning on raping her so i'll need a male therapist. but wait, i'm AFAB and i identify as a woman so he must be planning on raping me. so another multigender AFAB person i'm guessing? wait but if i identify as a woman and a man... and they identify as a woman and a man... who's the one planning on raping the other in this situation? I just wanna make sure I know what to do here, being part man and all, is it in my nature to rape her? or is it his nature to rape me? or do we just rape ourselves all the time since we're both men and women simultaneously.

sorry not to sound like an asshole there at the end with the sarcasm, but like, i was human trafficked for several months and am now severly agoraphobic and even i'm not this terrified that everyone i meet is going to rape me. so idk man. get a grip? have some compassion beyond yourself? some critical thinking skills maybe?

#psa #bigender #multigender #nonbinary #anti radfem #anti bioessentialism #anti truscum #anti terf #anti transmed #anti transandrophobia #tw assault #tw abuse #tw rape #tw sex assault #tw trafficking #transandrophobia #transphobes

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the-words-we-sung · 2 months

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Thoughts and pictures - S3E1

So after digesting my first watch a little bit, I'm starting my rewatch of this season and I'll share a few thoughts and reactions (and screenshots) because I can't keep it all to myself 😱

I was happy that we dived directly into the (sort of) trial and confrontation between Wilhelm, Simon and August. I do wonder how much time passed between the speech and this scene though. It sets the tone for the entire season for Wilhelm: he's gonna be alone, with no support whatsoever from his parents. He enters the room alone, his parents arrive after him and his mother doesn't even look at him... Simon arrives with his mother and August with his stepdad. But Wilhelm has to deal with the situation alone (aka how to get incredibly mad at Kristina barely 5min into the season 😤)

Simon looks so pretty and so sad. (And how did Omar manage to look even younger this season??) He wants to be done with this whole thing. Also I checked but 1.2 millions kronor is not as much as I thought it would be (it's apparently around 107 000€, which is not bad, but I was expecting more)

I see what you did there Simon 😏 (Can someone gif this scene and put it in parallel with Wilhelm seeing Simon's room for the first time and saying "cozy" in season 1? :p)

The boys coming back to the meeting: very smooth. Nobody knows what you were doing. Nop. Not at all. (We can see Linda kinda smirking when Simon sits back whereas Kristina looks like she just ate a very sour lemon). Wilhelm arranging his hair and Simon smiling at him: they might be in the middle of an important meeting and at the Palace but they're still 2 teenage boys in love (and I love them for that 💜)

Rickard looked and sounded like such an idiot in the previous seasons that I didn't expect him to actually be competent! But I guess we were mostly seeing him through August's eyes... I know Rickard said he was the best lawyer in the country but I have to admit that I thought he was just bragging ^^' Also: August is such an asshole. Did he really need to rile up Wilhelm like that? He's got quite the confidence to attack him and tell him how he just fuck things up on his own, in front of everyone like that, including the queen. Who, again, is not defending her son!! She tells them to shut up but she says nothing to August for talking like that to her son 😠

(They look like they've been called to the principal office). Kristina doesn't look at them immediately, she looks at Erik's picture on her desk first. Then she looks at August. And then finally at Wilhelm. She is so awful to him this season... Right from the start. And then she breaks down crying for Erik.

While Wilhelm holds her. I wasn't expecting to see her grieve so much this season. We didn't see that at all in season 2. Is it because she repressed all of her emotions too much? I hate that she breaks down like that just after Wilhelm publicly coming out. How can she not be there for him. I get that it must be hard to lose a son, but she still has a very alive one, who needs her.

Kristina is not getting redeemed in this season but Linda kinda is! I was super happy to see her get in mama bear's mode at the trial ^^ It was about time!! But here: I'm sorry Linda but it's not your son's role to keep you updated about what's going on in your house! You're the mother! Stop putting everything on this kid's shoulders!! Maybe he never tells you but do you ever ask??

Simon being truly angry at Sara is so good. I am so happy so he's able to feel that way and to not feel like he has to repress it, to forgive her, to help her. She did something truly bad and he's allowed to be mad. Also look at his angry lil' face 💜

In things that made me laugh: Wilhelm's reaction and face to learning that Simon is grounded all semester xD He was talking all smoothly/flirty and then his tone changes so dramatically when he realizes he won't be able to get his boyfriend in his bed very soon! Horny boy is horny (and frustrated :p)

This faaaaaace ☹

I'm happy to see that Simon still has Ayub and Rosh here to support him. I wish they would have told him that replying to comments online was a bad idea though. You know the saying kids: don't feed the trolls!!

Wilhelm looks like such a normal teenager when he gets back to his room. First time we see him so carefree. It breaks my heart to know that on the other side Simon is so unwell already.

Wilhelm waking up happy and smiling. And being just a teenager (for the first time in a very long time): thinking about his boyfriend, redrawing the heart on his hand. It's such teenager things!! My boy just wants to have a normal life... (And then he's immediately reminded that he's actually not just a regular teenager with Farima's text).

Simon's worried face when he asks about Wilhelm's initiation. You can see he's truly horrified at the idea that he might have gone through what's been described in the article.

And then it starts: the piling up of everything on Wilhelm's shoulders. First his mother looking really unwell and breaking down (even though she hasn't been said to be officially ill yet), and now the negative impact of his speech on the school... Which Vincent takes great pleasure in reminding him about.

This first episode is really good at setting things in motion. We see already the beginning of what's gonna go down during this season: Simon not feeling well, dealing with online hatred, struggling with his new place next to Wilhelm in the spotlight. And Wilhelm trying to finally live a carefree life at school with his boyfriend now that he's officially out but slowly getting crushed under the pressure of his role as Crown Prince and the increasingly obvious lack of support from his parents.

#Young Royals #Young Royals season 3 #yr S3E1 #Wilmon #Prince Wilhelm #Simon Eriksson #my little thoughts #I really liked the episode #but Simon is breaking our heart right from the start isn't he?#Omar and Edvin are incredible actors #and I truly don't know how Omar can look even cuter and younger this season ><#sorry for the long post #please let me know if I should put it under a cut?#I'm thinking of writing my thoughts for each episode this week #watching each episode again but more slowly #while writing up little thoughts and taking screenshots #is pretty nice #and makes me feel like now I can also go and enjoy what other people have written ^^

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