#( whats the condition ? well you see -- *runs away* )

[thefrogman]

Back in the olden days, if you used the "keep reading" function on a Tumblr-dot-com post, it would

not get very many notes.

At all.

I am not sure exactly why.

I think people hated pressing an extra thing.

But maybe it was also a psychological phenomenon where, given the choice, they were unwilling to trust me with their time.

But if I sucked them in with a good story or a compelling image, they would get serious FOMO.

When I created a super high effort post-of-length I would get comments like, "This was way too long but before I realized it I was reading the last sentence."

That was a really good feeling.

I used to do tests to figure out the best posting strategies and I think I figured out you'd lose about 90% of your notes if you did a "keep reading" post.

So that notion was ingrained in my brain again and again from when I was very note-obsessed and I have since avoided the "keep reading" option almost like a conditioned response.

Just seeing that squiggly line appear still induces a Pavlovian fear.

But that was probably a decade ago and I did a new experiment. My story about replacing my mailbox did reasonably well with a strategically clickbaity "keep reading."

This was a promising result due to the fact that some people like to send me hate for writing a lengthy post.

I recently got a death threat for writing too much, which was a fun reminder of my M&M days (I melted men's rights activists' brains with a poorly worded analogy and they launched a years long harassment campaign).

It seems in present-era-Tumblr-dot-com many more people prefer pressing an extra thing rather than scrolling a bunch on their smartphone. The collective behavior has changed. And maybe I don't need to use tricks and running gags in order to get folks to "keep reading".

Unfortunately I started writing that ring light post a few months ago so I wasn't able to include that in the experiment. But I am going to try using the keep reading function in the future and as long as the average number of folks that usually read my longer posts continue to read my posts, that will be the standard approach.

I also tag these posts with "long post" so you can flag that if you wish.

While I am no longer in the audience-building phase of my Tumblr career, these essays and stories and educational posts take a considerable amount of time and effort to create, so I do want to make sure everyone who wants to read them is able to. But posts without hearts and reblogs can quickly die a gruesome algorithmic death. Even my most ardent followers would tell me things were not showing up on their dash. (I think replies help mitigate that, so if you like a long post, you can help with engagement.)

The collective noun is a "business" of ferrets.

Do you want to see a business of ferrets ready to do some business?

KEEP READING

I love writing and it is a huge catharsis for me. And I love sharing any knowledge I feel like I have the earned expertise to speak on with authority (technology, photography, light, fun ferret facts, etc). I wish I had the energy to be a photography teacher, but long posts on Tumblr are probably the best I can do for now.

I know my posts are super long, but I try to make them as fun and informationally dense as I possibly can. I don't like wasting people's time if I can avoid it. Though maybe I should trust my follower's attention span a bit more. I have this fear that if I am not constantly entertaining, people will click away or unfollow.

I think a good business for a business of ferrets would be selling pool noodles that look like ferrets.

So as long as I get roughly the same amount of notes I will do the keep reading. And then maybe people can lay off on the mean comments and occasional requests to end my own life because I bloviated about soft light.

100% true ferret fact..

If you ask a ferret what their business is, they will crawl on your shoulder and whisper in your ear...

[redbean-nom]

watched the first 2 episodes of acolyte and so far i like every character except for the main one lol. (also is her name osha as in occupational safety and health administration??)

[dullweapons]

❝ everything that you thought had meaning : every hope , dream , or moment of happiness ⸻ none of it matters as you lie bleeding out on the battlefield ... but does that mean our lives are meaningless ? ... would you say that of our slain comrades ? what about their lives ? were they meaningless ?... they were not ! their memory serves as an example to us all ! the courageous fallen ! the anguished fallen ! their lives have meaning because we the living refuse to forget them ! & as we ride to certain death , we trust our successors to do the same for us ! 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 ! 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 ! 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐮𝐭 ! 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄 ! ❞

GOD OF WILL ; RAY CADELL . ( god of soldiers , god of war , protector of women , protector of children , defier of fate , the great ax )

symbols : sword & shield , helmet , horses , battle axes , dark reds & browns , cows / bulls .

thousands of years of living & watching the cycle has intrigued the god of demons himself ; demise . who approaches ray & offers him power . ray at first refuses . he does not wish to be tied to him nor his maker any longer ⸻ but the power demise offers is true power , that of a god . he would serve no man nor god : only himself . demise only gives one condition . one that he will learn in time . begrudgingly , ray agrees .

with the power he becomes a new god under the pantheon : din , nayru , farore , hylia , demise & now ray . being new he is not the strongest of them but as time goes he grows in power . he becomes a god of war , often sought after during combats no matter how small . soldiers pray to him for wisdom on the battlefield . his houses are often safe havens for the downtrodden or abused . he is a more active god , answering as often as he can ⸻ but only when they have truly exhausted all other options . i don't see ray being a god who will approach & solve your problems . he would come when your knees are bloody & your voice is hoarse : & he would tell you to rise & remember yourself . take up your sword & fight .

that being said , he isn't going to force you . if anything he wants you to improve yourself . have self respect . you are not to run yourself to death under his care .

i also don't see him as a god who wants sacrifices or even offerings . no blood , no killing animals unless you need to ( such as for food or fur ) but if you wanna throw some jerky at his altar he aint gonna say no lol he chill .

random ideas :

maybe marries the goddess of time cause why not lol . she always liked him . any kids between them would be new gods -- better gods then the golden ones which like ..... ray wants them dead af

100% loves the gerudos still but does not force them to woshipship him . he gives gifts when he can . pls ........ he loves you guys so much :(

if you put his alter next to a hylia statue something in ur house gonna get BURNED DOWN . major no no .

[virtue-boy]

Its kind of insane like genuinely insane how many people on here have no idea what life is like for average people in the third world / global majority and the Neo-colonialism that creates those conditions to support conditions in the North and how insanely cruel they can be as the absolute baseline and the type of killing and death that maintains the boundaries between the north and the south.

Like tell me you've never met an immigrant or refugee without telling me. Do you genuinely not know what happens to people who get deported, or work in the farms or meatpacking factories that feed the North?? The child deaths in the border crossings? The mines all over the globe? The people that die from lack of baseline vaccinations and sanitation and healthcare trademarked by western companies? The literal MILLIONS of third worlders killed in the wars across the globe defending US economic hegemony? The agent orange, the land mines, the carpet bombing, the drones? What the fuck is wrong with you?

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Divus Crewel - Rich Fur Coat Voice Lines

When Summoned: You're a bold mutt indeed to call for your owner like this. I'll make sure to discipline you thoroughly.

Summon Line: Stay! We'll start with teaching you how to wait. Don't think you can run around freely while I'm watching over you.

Groooovy!!: There are no shortcuts to becoming a grand mage. Put forth the proper effort, and under my tutelage, you can slowly make your way.

Home: What is it, pup?

Home Idle 1: Bring Grim to me, it's time for some needed discipline. He spilled some highly important potions... Don't you dare think he can get away from me.

Home Idle 2: I must replenish the stock of ingredients used in potionology classes. They may say that failure is a part of learning, but still, when this much material is constantly consumed...

Home Idle 3: I would have never thought I would end up employed at my alma mater. I definitely know it was not in the forefront of my mind when I graduated from Night Raven College.

Home Idle - Login: Alchemy demands skills and knowledge of a higher degree than other courses. If you wish to improve your abilities, you would do well to attend my classes without fail.

Home Idle - Groovy: What are those dark circles under your eyes? Don't tell me you stayed up all night doing your homework...? I knew it. You need to manage your time better, you little mongrel!

Home Tap 1: I am looking forward to this coming weekend much more than I ordinarily do. I should be getting some parts for my classic car that I ordered from overseas.

Home Tap 2: I don't know when Ramshackle was established. It was already in its horrid condition even back when I was a student

Home Tap 3: The fashion world is ever-evolving, and even I am sometimes reminded of my own inadequacies. That is what I love about it.

Home Tap 4: I always see to it that the freshmen in the science club fail their first experiment. Only those who have tasted defeat can truly appreciate the taste of success.

Home Tap 5: This is a custom-made coat made to my particular specifications. When you become an adult, you should also pick up something specially made as well.

Home Tap - Groovy: You've recently been doing much better in your classes. Even without the ability to use magic, you can see that knowledge is power. Good boy, keep it up.

Duo: [CREWEL]: I'll discipline them properly, Headmage. [CROWLEY]: Do be careful not to overdo it, Crewel-sensei!

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:

Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.

But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.

I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.

You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.

By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.

Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:

Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)

Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)

I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....

Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam

What do you guys think?

Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Bucky asking reader to move in with him, but she has one massive hesitation: he keeps stealing and destroying her underwear (like ripping it to pieces), especially the nice ones that are expensive

Panty Destroyer » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Bucky asks you to move in with him, but you have one massive hesitation… he destroys your panties.

Warnings: implied Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

Bucky leaned his head against his hand, admiring your features as you slept. He smiles to himself, happy that he has a woman like you to call his. He lifted his right hand, gently rubbing your cheek with the back of his fingers. Your eyes fluttered open and looked up to see your boyfriend smiling down at you.

“Good morning, baby.” You say.

“Good morning indeed, gorgeous.” Bucky says.

He leaned down and gave you a good morning kiss on your lips, which turned into something more than just a good morning kiss. Bucky moved himself on top of you, caging your head in between his strong arms. He held himself up with his forearms so he wasn’t pushing all of his weight on you.

“So I’ve been thinking…” He says, pulling away from your lips.

“Thinking about what?” You asked, running your fingers through his messy hair.

“You should move in with me.” He smiles happily. “You’re here everyday and you have a key so you might as well live with me.” He says.

You would love nothing more than to move in with Bucky, but you have one massive hesitation… he destroys your panties, especially the nice ones that are expensive. He rips them off you when he’s about to fuck you. Literally.

“What? You don’t like the idea?” He asks.

“I would love nothing more than to live with you, baby.” You say, continuing to run your fingers through his messy hair.

“Then what’s with the hesitation?” He asks.

“It’s just- you destroy my panties.” You say.

Bucky licked his lips and bit his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing.

“It’s not funny!” You playfully scolded him. “Those are very expensive and nice!” You say.

“That’s not what I find funny.” He tries not to laugh. “You’re acting like it’s a crime.” He says.

“It should be! I spent a lot of money on them.” You say.

“I don’t know why you buy expensive pieces of lace that barely covers your ass.” Bucky leans down to kiss you. “I wouldn’t mind you walking around my apartment with no panties on.” He says, smirking against your lips.

“So you wouldn’t mind me walking around your apartment wearing one of your shirts and no panties?” You ask.

“I definitely wouldn’t mind that. Plus it gives me easy access.” He says, smirking cockily.

You giggled and playfully rolled your eyes at your boyfriend.

“You never gave me an answer.” Bucky says, looking down at you.

“You never asked me a question.” You say.

“Will you make me the happiest man alive and move in with me?” He asks.

“You’re making it sound like a marriage proposal.” You giggled. “To answer your question, yes, I would love to move in with you.” You kissed him. “On one condition…” You say.

“What’s the condition?” He asks.

“Don’t destroy my panties.” You say.

“No promises.” He says cockily.

“James Buchanan Barnes…” You warned.

“Ok, fine.” He playfully sighs. “I’ll try my best to not destroy your panties.” He promises. “Kiss on it?” He asks.

You smiled and kissed him sweetly.

The following day, you started packing your things with Bucky’s help. You were packing up what you had in your closet while Bucky was packing up what was in your bedroom. He opened a drawer of your dresser, finding your panties. The expensive ones. He picked up a pair and looked at them. It took everything in him to not rip them right then and there.

“Bucky, is the tape out there?” You asked from the closet.

Bucky quickly shut the dresser drawer and shoved your panties in the front pocket of his jeans like nothing just happened.

“Yea!” Bucky answers, grabbing the roll of tape. “Here you go, doll.” He says, handing it to you.

You took the tape from him. You studied the look on his face. You know that look all too well. It’s the look when you know he’s up to no good or something mischievous.

“You were thinking about it, weren’t you, babe?” You say.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, my sweet babydoll.” Bucky says, biting his bottom lip.

You walked closer to your boyfriend and looked up at him.

“So if I put my hand in your pocket, I won’t find a destroyed pair of my panties in there?” You asked.

“Nope.” He answers, sounding truthfully.

You continued to stare up at him as you put a hand in his pocket, pulling out a pair of your panties. The expensive ones and surprisingly, they were still intact.

“See, I told you I didn’t destroy them.” He said. “I’m trying my best to keep my word.” He says.

“Good boy.” You say, standing up on your tippy toes and kissed him.

Bucky’s hands found their way to your waist and pulled you against his body. His hands slowly slid down your sides, finding their place on your ass.

“Mmm.” You hummed against his lips. “I know where this is going, but it’s not going to work.” You say, playing away from his lips.

Bucky tilted his head back and groaned.

“Packing now and sex later.” You say seductively.

“Are you going to be wearing these?” Bucky asks, taking your panties from your hand.

“Only if you don’t destroy them.” You say.

“You have yourself a deal, doll face.” He kisses you once more. “Besides, your panties look better on my bedroom floor anyway.” He says, smirking down at you.

“James Buchanan Barnes!” You scolded, hitting his chest, making him chuckle.

🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

-Bucky’s Doll

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝟰 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗛𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘

　　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is the only person who can make Matt smile genuinely; OR 4 times that Y/N made Matt smile.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

1. Had Matt shaved his beard?

The morning started like any other in the triplets' house. The sun had barely risen over the horizon when the three found themselves in the typical kitchen, each of them still fighting sleep but ready to face another day of recording.

Nick was busy preparing breakfast, while Matt and Chris lounged lazily around the table, Chris with his head lying on the wooden surface.

"Smells good, Nick. What are you making?" Matt murmured, rubbing the drowsiness away from his eyes.

"Waffles and bacon." Nick responded in a low, slow tone, stirring the strips inside the ceramic frying pan.

"Bacon with waffles?" Chris grimaced, yawning loudly as he lifted his head, laying his body haphazardly on the chair.

Meanwhile, Y/N was still in her own world, enjoying a peaceful sleep in her shared room with Matt. However, her sleep was interrupted by the sound of a plate hitting the sink's marble counter, followed by a loud curse.

With a yawn, the girl slowly sat down on the bed, running a hand through her messy hair and running her sleepy eyes around the room, already having the idea that Matt was in the kitchen, where the sound had echoed from.

Seconds later, she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, ready to start her morning routine. But something immediately caught her attention as soon as she entered the smaller room. On top of the sink was Matt's beard trimmer, an object she recognized all too well.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked around, trying to process what she was seeing. Had Matt shaved his beard?

With her heart beating fast, Y/N ran back to the bedroom, grabbing the pajama shorts thrown on her boyfriend's gaming chair, quickly putting them on and finally leaving the room, completely ignoring her own messy appearance.

Back in the kitchen, the brothers were busy devouring the breakfast Nick had prepared. They barely noticed when Y/N walked out of the small hall that connected the room to her bedroom, her eyes fixed on Matt.

"Matt..." Her voice came out in an incredulous whisper as she approached, stopping in front of him and staring at his face intensely.

Matt looked up from his plate, smiling big when he saw her awake.

"Good morning, babe. How did you-" He interrupted his own sentence when he saw her condition, frowning in confusion and worry. "Hey, did something happen?"

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure, but the sight of Matt without a beard was too much for her. With a fake sob, she knelt before him, her eyes shining with false emotion.

"Matt, baby, how could you do this?" She whimpered, dramatizing every word. "You shaved your beard... The beard that I loved so much!"

The other two brothers watched the scene with wide eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or be worried about Y/N's reaction, unlike Matt, who took a few seconds to process what she had said, before a loud laugh escaped from his lips, his hands letting go of the food he was holding.

"We're done!"

Matt continued laughing, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"Y/N, did you hit your head?"

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2. Girls' night (with a masculine touch)

The night was warm and cozy in the triplets' house as Matt, Nick, Chris, and Y/N gathered in the living room. After a long day of recording and, on Y/N's part, studying, they decided it was time to relax and have fun together.

"What are we doing tonight?" Chris asked, throwing his phone onto his lap and looking around at the others, lowering his body onto the upholstery.

"Can we do our nails?" The suggestion escaped Nick's lips quickly, his eyes shining with excitement. "And maybe do some skincare."

"Like a girl's night?" Y/N smiled, straightening her posture quickly, feeling just as excited.

"Why not?" Matt shrugged, staring at his nails with a contemplative look. "But I've never done my own nails before, I always do them with Analysse."

"It's just painting your nails, like watercolor. It's not difficult, honey." Y/N waved her hand dismissively, getting up from her seat and running to her shared room with Matt, looking for her box of nail polish and nail's tools.

With their gear gathered, they arranged themselves comfortably and strategically on the couch, ready to begin their impromptu night of beauty.

Y/N led the way, skillfully beginning to paint her own nails as she explained the process.

"First, you need to apply a base coat to protect your nails." She explained, opening the base coat and carefully applying it, being quickly followed by Nick.

The brothers watched with interest, watching each movement with concentration.

"That seems easy enough." Chris commented, taking the little bottle from Y/N's hand and starting to apply it to his own nails.

Meanwhile, Matt was carefully examining the available nail polishes colors, trying to decide which one to choose. Y/N's eyes found his figure, a smile growing on her face, feeling great love for his appreciation and care for the moment.

"How about a black one with white details?" Matt suggested, holding up two bottles in the mentioned colors, showing them to Y/N with a proud smile on his face.

"It's going to look amazing, my love."

Chris quickly picked out his own nail polish color with Nick's help, returning to his seat while swinging his legs eagerly.

They dipped their brushes into the nail polish bottles with determination but soon discovered that painting their own nails wasn't as simple as it seemed.

"This is harder than I thought." Matt grumbled as he tried to paint his nails without smudging, his fingers shaking slightly as his tongue lolled slightly out of his lips in concentration.

Chris nodded, his lips pressed tightly together as he tried not to move his hand too much.

"I think I'm doing this wrong..."

"You two are doing pretty well for beginners." Y/N laughed softly, watching the brothers fondly.

After some errors, everyone finally finished painting their nails, each proudly displaying their own piece of art, even if it was a little smudged.

"Look at us, a bunch of nail professionals!" Nick joked, blowing on his freshly painted nails with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess we could consider a new career." Matt contributed, admiring his nails with a satisfied expression before raising his hands, his nails facing Y/N as he wiggled his fingers excitedly.

"It's perfect, babe, congratulations!" Y/N praised, leaning towards him slightly and sealing the back of his right hand with her lips lightly, exhaling the fresh smell of nail polish and acetone.

"Maybe we should open our own men's salon." Chris smiled, shaking his hands to dry the nail polish faster.

Matt laughed out loud, imagining the scene of them painting other men's nails with the same determination and enthusiasm they had moments ago. It would be comical.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

3. Video as a couple

Matt was nervous as he prepared to record his next video for his personal YouTube channel. It was still one of the first videos he posted there, and despite his enormous desire to make more content for his own channel, he felt an anxiety growing within him every time he thought about creating something new on his own.

Therefore, he decided to invite his girlfriend, Y/N, to participate with him in that specific one, taking advantage of the opportunity to introduce her as his girlfriend.

It's not that fans didn't know Y/N was his. They knew, and they knew it very well, but Matt never got around to introducing her as such officially.

"Are you ready for this?" He asked, looking at Y/N with a nervous smile.

"I should be the one asking you that." Y/N smiled small before nodding, holding his free hand affectionately. "But yes, I am. There's nothing I want more than to be said to be your girlfriend, baby."

With a nervous sigh, Matt began to set up the camera on the dashboard of the car, while Y/N settled into the passenger seat next to him, trying to calm him with words of encouragement.

"You'll do amazingly well, hon. I'm sure of it." Y/N said, leaning over the car console and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Finally, everything was ready, and Matt began recording, his voice a little shaky at first but soon becoming more confident as he got used to the camera without his brothers around him.

"Hey! Welcome to my personal YouTube channel." He began, smiling slightly at the camera. "Today I have a very special guest for you to meet."

He turned his face to Y/N with a twinkle in his eye, who waved at the lenses, opening a shy smile.

"This is Y/N, my girlfriend." Matt continued, looking at her with big heart eyes. "Most of you already know her as our best friend, and maybe you already know about our relationship, but now we're finally going public to make it official... Well, she agreed to participate in today's video, so I hope you enjoy getting to know her a little better."

Y/N smiled as she watched her boyfriend introduce her as his, her cheeks taking on a reddish hue, feeling a little nervous and shy, but happy to be there next to him.

To make things more fun, Matt decided to answer some questions asked by fans about the two of them together or individually. He selected some of the funniest and most interesting questions and read them out loud for the two of them to discuss.

"Okay, first question." Matt began, looking at his phone in hand. "How we met?"

"Well, we actually met at a friend's birthday party from our school in elementary school. Matt was trying to impress everyone with his basketball skills, but he ended up hitting the ball over one of the girls' heads." Y/N laughed, remembering the story fondly.

Matt blushed at the memory, shaking his head and looking down, trying to hide the involuntary smile that took over his face.

"Next!" Matt cleared his throat, his voice coming out high-pitched from the shyness of the previous event. "What's the secret to a long-lasting relationship?"

"Oh, great question!" Y/N clapped her hands in excitement, lifting her legs and pressing the soles of her feet onto the seat, keeping her knees bent and tights against her chest. "For me, the key is communication and mutual support. It's important to always be honest with each other and literally be there through the good times and the bad."

"For sure, I also think it's essential to have understanding and empathy for each other. Being willing to listen and understand your partner's needs makes all the difference." Matt contributed.

He looked at his girlfriend, waiting for approval and receiving a big smile in return, which was accompanied by a nod.

"What's the most memorable memory you've had together?" Matt read the next question quickly, before looking up, his eyes alight with nostalgia. "There are so many wonderful memories to choose." He reflected, thoughtfully. "But one of my favorites was when we made our first unplanned trip together almost two years ago and ended up getting lost in a small town in Italy."

"Oh my God, so true!" Y/N threw her head back, laughing loudly at the memory. "That was an unforgettable experience. I remember we went to ask for directions at a small restaurant right on the corner from one of the alleys, and there were several pastas hanging, drying. I just asked the main chief what that was, and boom, we passed all day in that restaurant, tasting different types of fresh pasta and discovering more of their culture together."

As the video continued, Matt and Y/N shared more stories, laughs, and loving moments. They answered questions about their funny habits, their favorite couple traditions, and even their future plans together.

In the end, when Matt ended the video with a warm thank you to the fans who would watch it when posted, he turned to Y/N with a beaming smile.

"Thank you for doing this with me, petal." The brunette whispered, leaning over the car console and pulling her into a tight hug, smiling widely. "It meant the world for me."

"I'll always be here to support you, Matt. And I can't wait to make more videos together in the future." Y/N smiled, feeling happy to have shared that moment with Matt.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

4. Kittens day

Y/N woke up excitedly that morning, knowing it was the day she would volunteer at the cat kennel like she always did every Tuesday. It was an activity she loved doing, and she always invited Matt to join her, but his work with YouTube always ended up interfering.

However, this time, Matt had surprised Y/N by making room in his schedule to join her. She couldn't wait to share this experience with him.

When they arrived at the kennel, they were greeted by the soft sound of meows and purrs. Y/N smiled when she saw the felines playing and snuggling on their colorful scratching posts of all possible sizes.

"It's so good to be here." She said excitedly to Matt, taking his hand as they walked through the decorated halls. "Cats are so adorable and deserve so much love and affection."

Matt smiled as he listened to her chatter about the felines, watching them and her with fascination.

The couple spent the day taking care of the cats, feeding them, cleaning their litter boxes, and, of course, playing with them. Y/N taught Matt the proper way to hold and pet kittens, and he was soon having as much fun as she was.

"I never want to leave again." Matt suddenly commented as, sitting side by side on the fluffy rug, they watched a group of kittens playing with a fur ball. "I understand why you love coming here every week."

"It's a special place, with special cats... You know, I'm really glad you're here with me today." Y/N smiled, lifting her head slightly to look at him better, feeling her heart warm when she realized that Matt was just as involved in the activity as she was.

"I'm glad too."

At the end of the day, as they were about to leave, Matt suddenly stopped, looking at a cat in one of the cages. It was an orange cat with bright blue eyes that stared back at him curiously.

"Wow, he is perfect." Matt whispered, slowly approaching the cage. "He seems so friendly."

"You like him, don't you?" Y/N smiled, following him towards the feline, noticing the immediate connection between Matt and the cat.

"Yeah, I really do." Matt nodded, his eyes shining with determination. "What do you think about having a cat?"

Y/N felt a wave of emotion and happiness wash over her when she heard him, taking a few seconds to process if she was creating things in her head, realizing she wasn't when she noticed Matt looking at her with expecting eyes.

"Oh my God, really?" Her voice came out louder than expected, slightly scaring the kitten. "Oops, I'm sorry, little kitten."

With beaming smiles and clasped hands, they went to the kennel staff to begin the adoption process. While Y/N filled out the forms, Matt kept his eyes fixed on the cat lovingly, imagining their days with the new addition.

"What will be his name, my love?" His girlfriend's voice sounded behind him, breaking him out of his reverie. Matt shook his head slightly, focusing his attention on Y/N again, an easy smile stretching across his face.

"Snuggles. His name will be Snuggles."

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[sfznyxio]

❝ 𝐈, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ❞

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. everyone says you’re the curse of your own legacy. dubbed “the worst ruler ever in history”, power is all you cared about. your selfishness leads to the downfall of your own kingdom, with you murdered at the hands of people you thought could be trusted. somehow the next day, you regress to the day you become the sole successor to the throne after the previous sovereign passed. can you prove your worth and show them you have what it takes to be the sovereign in this timeline?

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. argenti, bronya, dan heng, dr. ratio, gepard, jing yuan, ruan mei, sunday, trailblazer (caelus & stelle)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. f!reader. royal au, time travel au. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. 1.9k wc. inspired by billion manhwas that have this trope lol. the royal family is absolutely horrible and reader hates them. reader experiences dissociative amnesia due to trauma from said family and the previous timeline. lots of self-doubt. death is everywhere in this fic. a dark joke about betrayal (bronya). reader has hair (gepard). murder of a loved one and revenge (sunday).

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀. new year, new blog, and new fic but two months later! on spring break so i’m happy i got to write again, even if it’s just a little bit. watch me disappear for another six months or so because grad school’s a bitch.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ARGENTI

rumor has it among a group of chivalrous knights from a forgotten land that their deity, the god of beauty idrila, is in your kingdom. you happen to come across one of them when you snuck out of the castle. the knight introduces himself as argenti, a knight of beauty… a very strange one.

what person talks to objects as if they’re people and compliments them that they’re beautiful? as soon as he lays on you, he’s in front of you on one knee and kisses your hand, declaring that you’re beautiful, even as beautiful as idrila themself. surely you’re weirded out, but he seems sincere. 

there’s a possibility that your advisor sent a search party after you. you generally hate being escorted on your outings due to your upbringing, but going back there isn’t where your mind wants to be, so you ask the knight if he could be your company. ah, how could he resist a beautiful lady like yourself?

will he still see you as such when you ascend the throne?

𝄞༉‧₊˚. BRONYA

house rand is known for their strong military leadership and is a unique case of nobility. majority of its lineage are commoners, going through a selection process as children to be adopted by the current leader and be trained as their successor. shortly before your ascension, former leader cocolia rand passed away. no one knows the cause of death, except her daughter.

marchioness bronya pays a visit to introduce herself as the new leader of the house. the two of you express condolences for your families, though you try not to flinch at how she praises the late sovereign like everyone else. she believes you can keep secrets well, which isn’t entirely wrong, so she asks to borrow you. you already know the topic of discussion: the actual cause of death of madam cocolia.

it’s me. her dialogue muffles into white noise. madam cocolia has made a deal with her daughter to kill her if anything happens. hm…? did you put trust in someone to stop you if you ever went insane? can you stab me in the back if that’s the case? your mouth runs on its own, and she’s in shock. you brush it off as a joke afterwards, saying she should ignore it. yet you can’t yourself as it’s been haunting you since.

do you trust her to end your suffering, for the good of the kingdom?

𝄞༉‧₊˚. DAN HENG

the archivist strikes you as someone who dislikes bothersome people, so you try not to spend too much time researching your condition. though upon meeting dan heng at the library, he appears courteous and doesn’t mind your company. what leaves you puzzled is that he doesn’t question your sudden interest in time travel and regression. instead, he leads you upstairs.

on the way there you trip and he grabs onto you, triggering a flashback of the mob capturing you with tight holds during your escape. realizing the intensity of his grip on you because your body’s shaking, he lets go and adjusts his hand placement to your back so you can get up. then he makes sure you’re alright before reaching the data bank.

he assumes that you’re still traumatized from your family’s death based on your reaction to that memory. everyone believes the same thing, and it’s definitely wrong. but you can’t magically convince them that you’ve seen the future where they’ll die because of you. however, his intentions make you feel at ease. he says he’ll be nearby for help. is it really okay to rely on someone else for once?

will he stick to his word and catch you when you fall to your death?

𝄞༉‧₊˚. DR. RATIO

the intelligentsia guild believes that knowledge is a valuable resource to obtain various mediums of information across the world. having one of their own at the castle not only as a professor at the royal academy, but as the advisor to the next sovereign is quite an honor. dr. ratio may be a brilliant scholar, but his interpersonal skills… not so much.

there isn’t a day where you’re spared from his lectures. to be fair, you’ve done questionable things after your family’s passing: sneaking out of the castle, researching time travel and regression, and raising raccoons that almost destroyed your garden and your servants’ sanities. nevertheless, you’re irritated by his emphasis on your reputation as a ruler. does it look like i want to be one? you storm out without a second thought.

after calming down, you search for him to apologize. you should’ve told him about how you felt instead of letting out an outburst. unfortunately he has gone home, but leaves a note that addresses your “odd hobbies” - ways to not alert the servants during your escapades, literature of topics of interest that aren’t in the library, and interventions of minimizing the chaos of your familiars. you take it as an apology; he’s more considerate than you think even if he doesn’t admit it.

can he stay by your side if you decide to abdicate the throne?

𝄞༉‧₊˚. GEPARD

house landau is the “shield” of the kingdom, serving the royal family for generations. their current leader count landau is a stern man from what you recall the several times you visited him as a child. now he’s forced to retire due to his illness, replaced by his eldest and only son gepard, your childhood friend.

the two of you haven’t interacted much as you reach the training period for succession, whereas his father drills him to be insubordinate to the royal family as they have been. with your parents gone and the count ill, you can see him whenever you wish. but how should you approach him? more importantly, does he still see you as a friend? you give up instantly, exhausted from your mental trip to the past.

amidst the flames, he yells at you to run as shadows consume him. you shoot up - bloodshot eyes, rapid heartbeat, and heavy breaths. a pair of arms engulfs you, one hand rubbing your back and the other buried in your hair. rest, i’m here, he whispers against your forehead. you start to lose it, sobbing uncontrollably on his chest.

is this what giving in to your selfish gains feels like?

𝄞༉‧₊˚. JING YUAN

the sight of citizens flocking to the plaza can be seen from your balcony. three people emerge from the crowd, who you recognize as residents of the civilization in the sky: the xianzhou alliance. they have no reason to be here unless it’s important business, and that happens to be you. how forgetful you are.

earlier you test a theory that hopefully changes your tragic fate. it takes courage to act like a jester in front of the council, sending diplomats to invite various factions to forge alliances. the entire court and yourself are amazed that one of the arbiter-generals jing yuan is here in the flesh. the xianzhou rely on themselves for help rather than outsiders, so there must be something that he wants from you.

little did you know while you’re interested in the xianzhou’s manpower, he’s interested in you. his two attendants have never seen their general smitten over someone before; it’s obnoxious. his visits become frequent; his purpose of seeking specific resources is really an excuse to shower you with gifts. he appreciates how headstrong you are throughout the tragedies you faced, wishing you give yourself more credit. he has faith in your capability as a sovereign, even if you don’t agree. 

he’s not here to play with your feelings, is he?

𝄞༉‧₊˚. RUAN MEI

house ruan is revered by academia as geniuses of the century, yet rarely shows up in public as they care less about being in the spotlight. rather, they dedicate their lives to science. their daughter carries the household name with grace and elegance, though it can’t be said the same with her experiments in which she entrusts you to be her assistant.

lady ruan mei is interested in the concept of life. cycles of birth, growth, and death. existence of the living. development of cognition, emotions, and behaviors. they’re fascinating to her. creating lifeforms makes you feel some sort of sorrow; your creation is modeled after yourself. then you wonder how your family reacted when you were born.

soon you’re asked by the scientist about your existence, and whether you believe the gods can answer that. now that you think about it, were they involved in your regression? the human race worships the power of the heavens: creation and destruction. death is inevitable, but can the gods also rewrite reality? if they choose to send you back in time, did they want you to redeem yourself?

why bother going so far if you’re going to screw up again?

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SUNDAY

no one hosts festivities as grand as house oak. under the impression that you’ve been secluded in your room grieving over the previous sovereign, they’ll throw a small party to cheer you up and celebrate your upcoming ascension. the thought of announcing you want to abdicate the throne is tempting, but their efforts will go to waste so you scrap it. might as well keep up a front and plan your next moves.

you’re welcomed into the venue by the high priest sunday, the organizer of this party. you’re feeling nervous, not because of the amount of guests but because of his overwhelming presence. he doesn’t seem familiar, or are you misremembering? do you still feel unwell, your majesty? behind the high priest is a young woman who bears some resemblance to him, and everything all at once falls into place.

his sister is the precious sun of his life, executed by the eclipse. the high priest follows the royal family without hesitation, only for his loyalty to be questioned at her expense. he isn’t the type to act so rash, but for her he’ll go to great lengths to exact his revenge. you lie to the siblings that you’re fine and tell the high priest to take care of her. there’s more than meets the eye regarding your behavior, but he just agrees to not arouse any suspicion.

what secrets have your people been hiding from you?

𝄞༉‧₊˚. TRAILBLAZER

there are twin raccoons that practically live in your garden and are your servants’ worst nightmares. somehow they’re kind of like you - living in luxury while rotten to the core. you remember ordering your servants to exterminate them last time, so you take them instead so you won’t freak them out, much to your advisor’s dismay.

later you discover that caelus and stelle are shapeshifters who lost their memories, with their only lead being a magenta-haired woman. to your surprise they love to gossip, which proves themselves useful to be your spies, gathering intel on the current news that could coincide with the ones in the previous timeline. they can also find information about that woman. killing two birds with one stone. 

sometimes you worry about their work ethic, considering how chaotic they can be. for instance, their unhealthy obsession with trash cans. as much as you need them to get the job done, you realize you’re nothing better than your family. those two are extensions of yourself, learning about the world just as you are. so you step back and let them have fun with scraps. they’ll get to their missions eventually.

they appear to be loyal to a fault so there’s no way they’ll betray you, right?

[kissedsuns]

keep me warm, oscar piastri.

cw: established rel, kissing, teasing . . .

it's spa, oscar's absolute favourite track and one of the most anticipated races of the season.

his excitement is obvious from the way he stares out the car window as you drive to the circuit, his lips curling into a wide, giddy smile.

now, the two of you are in the midst of preparations for the first practice session of the day. the paddock is a hive of activity, and you find yourself hurrying through it, desperately trying to reach the motorhome.

spa's weather is notoriously unpredictable, and today is no exception; the cold is biting and relentless.

once you manage to get inside, a shiver runs down your spine as the warm air from the heating system envelops you, offering a welcome respite from the frigid conditions outside.

you quickly drop your bag on the sofa in the main room, the warmth is slowly starting to seep into your body, but it's a gradual process.

when oscar finally finds you, you are already curled up on the couch, hugging your knees in a desperate attempt to conserve heat.

"feeling warm?" oscar teases, leaning casually against the doorframe.

"god, i forget how cold spa can be sometimes," you groan, rubbing your hands together furiously in an effort to acclimate to the heater inside the hub.

your cheeks are rosy, and your nose has taken on a pink hue. you're really starting to regret your wardrobe choice. from the hotel room window, the sun had been shining, and it had felt particularly warm.

while you made a smart decision to wear pants long enough to keep your legs warm, you hadn't thought to bring a jacket or anything to properly cover your arms.

"i feel like an ice cube," you admit, shivering slightly as you rub your legs up and down in a repetitive motion to generate some sort of heat.

oscar's eyes soften with concern as he notices your teeth chattering uncontrollably. without a moment's hesitation, he crosses the room and settles beside you on the couch.

he wraps one strong, comforting arm around you, pulling you close until your head rests in the crook of his neck.

a shiver runs through your body at the initial contact, and oscar chuckles softly, the sound vibrating warmly through his chest.

"well, you look a lot like one too," he teases, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "you'd think you'd know to dress warmer by now, seeing as we come here every year."

"i know, i know," you sigh, leaning further into his embrace.

oscar is dressed in his fireproof overalls and race suit, the thick material of his outfit seems to insulate him perfectly against the cool weather. as he moves away from you, the loss of his warmth is immediate and almost makes you whine in protest.

"wait, i think i've got something for you," oscar says before he disappears into his driver's room, leaving you both curious and a bit confused.

moments later, he reemerges, holding a long puffer jacket that looks like it could easily swallow you whole. the jacket's hemline looks like it will sag below your knees, and it's clear from oscar's smug expression that he already knows how you're going to look.

oscar gives the coat a gentle shake as he stands in front of you. "put your arms out f'me, gorgeous," he instructs.

you give him a questioning look, hesitating for a moment before sighing and lifting your arms. oscar helps you into the coat, and it's instantly apparent how oversized it is.

the sleeves hang comically past your hands, and the hood almost obscures your vision.

oscar's lips curl into a cheeky grin, and you can't help but look unimpressed.

"what?" you huff, placing your hands on your hips. oscar, however, just bursts into laughter.

"you look..." he starts, but his laughter cuts him off. he takes a moment to compose himself before continuing, "honestly, you look adorable," he finally says, his smile softening as he reaches out to gently squeeze your cheek.

you glance down at the jacket, noticing that it's meant to fall just above your knees but is now dangling very much below. you find yourself unable to contain your own giggles.

"hey, shouldn't you be getting ready for practice now?" you ask, eventually settling down and trying to shift the focus away from the jacket.

oscar glances at the clock on the wall behind you, then back at you, a sigh escaping his lips. "yeah, you're probably right," he agrees, though his reluctance is clear.

he crosses the short distance between you again, his hands cupping your face as he leans in to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

"make me proud, piastri!" you call out as he heads towards the door, giving you one final smile before exiting the team hub.

now that he's gone, you waddle over to the food and drink station in his ridiculously oversized jacket, searching for something to warm you up even more.

the aroma of freshly brewed drinks and baked goods fills the air. you make yourself a steaming cup of hot chocolate hoping it will help chase away the lingering chill.

an hour later, oscar stumbles back into the motorhome, looking utterly exhausted. his hair is slightly disheveled, a tired look in his eyes, and his movements are sluggish, reflecting his fatigue.

you're curled up on the sofa, nursing a cup of hot chocolate while focusing on your phone. wrapped in the puffer jacket with the hood pulled up. you look cozy and snug.

oscar practically collapses into the seat next to you, letting out a sigh and resting his tired head on your shoulder.

setting your mug down on the nearby coffee table, you reach out to brush your hand against his freezing, rosy cheeks. oscar lets out a satisfied hum and nuzzles his face further into your hand.

"you're freezing, babe," you say, straightening up and gently lifting his head from your shoulder to get a better look at him.

"i know," he groans, leaning into your touch, his cheek pressing warmly against your palm. the contrast between his chilled skin and his warm breath against your hand is striking.

you cradle his cheek, gently running your thumb over his skin. a giggle escapes you as you take in his rosy cheeks and red nose, trying to suppress your laughter and turn it into a more affectionate gesture.

oscar gives you a playful glare, noticing you biting back a smile. "oh, don't you start." he warns, half-serious.

"sorry, osc. you just look like rudolph the red-nosed reindeer," you tease, smiling as you press a soft kiss to his twitching nose.

he sighs dramatically. "you're so lucky i love you," he pretends to be annoyed, though he can't hide the smirk tugging at his lips.

"how about i make you some hot chocolate to warm you up?" you offer, your fingers threading through his fluffy hair.

he hums approvingly. "please."

you lean down to press yet another soft kiss on his nose. "i'll take care of you." with that, you stand up and head to where the coffee machines and food are laid out.

you grab another mug, milk and chocolate powder, carefully mixing the ingredients to make oscar one of the best hot chocolates ever. you take your time, ensuring that it's perfect. you know how much he loves hot chocolate.

oscar watches you like a puppy, admiring the look of concentration on your face. he could never tire of seeing that face, even on the brink of hypothermia.

he's quickly pulled out of his sleepy haze when he hears you calling his name and sees you approaching with a steaming mug cradled carefully in your hands.

you carry the mug to the sofa, a small smile playing on your lips. "there you go, oscar," you say softly, holding out the mug for him to take.

oscar grasps the hot mug in his hands, sighing in instant satisfaction as the heat of the liquid radiates into his pale fingers.

he brings the mug to his lips, taking a cautious sip. his eyes flutter shut, and a look of pure bliss washes over his face as the warmth spreads through him.

as he inhales the sweet, soothing aroma of the hot chocolate, the tension in his shoulders begins to ease, and a contented smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

oscar lifts his eyes from the mug to your face "thank you, baby," he murmurs, his voice a bit raspy from the cold and exhaustion.

you sit beside him with an affectionate smile, fingers gently combing through his hair as he sips the hot chocolate. "you're welcome, sweetheart." you say, your touch soft and soothing. "although, i don't think i'm giving this jacket back to you. i know i might look like a worm, but god, is it soft."

he mock groans in disapproval, his expression playfully exaggerated. "oh, really now? you little thief." he teases, taking another sip of the sweet drink.

the warmth and sugar seem to be restoring him, bit by bit, making him feel more like a normal human being again.

oscar places the mug on the small table in front of the sofa, then leans back into the cushions comfortably, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips.

you snuggle closer, lowering your head onto oscar's shoulder. "i dunno, osc," you tease. "i think it might be glued to me."

a comfortable silence follows, with you wrapped in each other's warm embrace. the occasional sound of the team chattering and entering and exiting the team hub creates a soothing background noise.

"i also don't think santa dresses his reindeers, so that's another reason why i can't give this jacket back to you,"

as soon as oscar hears you utter the word 'reindeer,' he knows you're bound to tease him again. he turns his head to look at you and gives you a faux glare. "you seriously aren't going to drop this reindeer thing, are you?"

you reply simply by pressing a kiss to his temple, and the warmth it brings him is far greater than any hot chocolate.

© kissedsuns

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU 2

Masterpost

Jason blinks and he is not where he used to be. He can already tell he’s shorter and skinnier, and he’s staring at physics homework so he’s probably younger too. It takes him a moment to run all the scenarios. He knows what is most likely, he knows that soulmates body swap at sixteen and... Well, he’s not sure if he was dead or not for his sixteenth birthday, but he had been living on the assumption that he had missed it, whenever it was. 

Now he thinks that he’s the older one in this relationship. If his soulmate just turned sixteen, he’s still a minor. Society gets a little more lax about these things when it comes to actual soulmate relationships, but Jason- despite the age difference only being around two years- is not lax about it at all. So if this is what he thinks it is, he is going to have to have a talk with his soulmate about being just friends for a while. 

Which should be fine, it’s not like they know each other at all yet. Getting to know each other should take a while anyways. Though, he could start that now.

He looked to the right and saw the door to the bedroom on the same wall as the desk he was sitting at, and the door to the closet on the next wall. The bed is against the wall behind the desk, sitting in between two windows. There’s a nightstand with a lamp on it next to the bed and a chest of drawers against the wall to his left that has a mirror hanging over it. There are space posters on the walls all around the room.

Jason gets up and walks over to the mirror. The boy in the mirror is short and skinny, just like he thought. He has blue eyes and black hair that flops over his face. Jason takes a second to wonder if the kid had plans for his birthday, realizing probably not. It’s tradition nowadays to spend your sixteenth birthday with just your family in case the switch is made. 

So, Jason's soulmate is what appears to be a normal, messy teenager. Posters, clothes on the floor, homework to do. Jason goes over to double check the homework, to see if he can find any that’s finished. There, his math assignment is already done, and it seems his soulmate’s name is Danny Fenton. He takes a closer look at all the school supplies and in his backpack and doesn’t find anything with the school name on it. 

Taking another look around the room, Jason doesn’t see a phone, and it wasn’t in the backpack. Jason tries not to feel weird as he pats around his soulmate’s pockets. He finds a phone, thinks for a second, then types in his own number and calls.

It rings for a second. Someone picks up, but all Jason can hear is shouting until he hears his own voice.

“Um, hello, Jason?”

“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?” 

“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”

“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?” 

“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason heaves a long sigh. Danny chuckles.

“Right, well your name is Danny right?”

“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?”

“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”

“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Jason laughs, he does not know how Danny made his voice sound like that, breathy and higher than his voice has been in years.

“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”

“I think so?” There’s a bit of a commotion. “Stop it, buzz off!”Is said away from the phone. “They said yes.”

“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”

Danny makes an I don’t know sort of hum. “Look, I do need to warn you… about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”

“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?”

“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.”

“Kid, what?” Jason rubs his hand down his face.

“This is really an in-person talk.”

Jason feels like he can relate. There are a lot of things a soulmate should know that Jason doesn’t know if he’s ever going to tell Danny but if he did he would want it to be in-person. “Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”

“Yep!” Again, Jason does not understand how Danny makes his voice sound so peppy. “Is there anything I should know?”

“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”

Danny laughs and Jason hears a beep, before “You’re on speaker!” is called out.

“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick sounds way too excited.

“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells.

“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”

The room through the phone quiets down quickly except for Danny’s laughter.

“Oh, wow, same.”

“Danny! You know how we feel about the death jokes.” Jason hears as the door behind him opens. Talking starts up on the other end of the line, but he ignores it for the moment as a tall redhead walks in the room. She stops in front of him and raises her eyebrow.

“You must be Jazz.” Jason says. This gets a hush on the other end of the line. “I’m Jason.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

rubber duck

in which reader is sick and spencer takes care of his girl!!

fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as girl, non-sexual undressing + nudity/intimacy, reader takes bath, spencer doesn't but he is in fact present a/n: heeeeyyy guys.... sorry for not posting for a month... accept this as a token of my gratitude and know that smut is in the works. keep sending requests, might not answer them but you never knoww!!

Spencer gets home around ten PM. Granted, it’s not a completely unreasonable time for someone to be asleep, but for you? A person who’d rather not go to bed at all than wake up before eight in the morning? You being passed out on the couch at this time is definitely abnormal.  

He drops his bag on the coffee table as he approaches, kneeling next to where you’re curled up in the dark room. Part of him doesn’t want to wake you if you’re tired, but he’s mildly concerned. Normally after him being away all week you’ll stay up until he gets home regardless of how late (or early) it is. Ambient light coming in through the window allows him to see the sickly sheen to your skin, and he feels your forehead with the back of his hand. 

“Spence?” you murmur, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. His response is equally quiet, wavering slightly. 

“Hey. Are you feeling okay, angel?” 

Even though you decidedly are not, your spirit lifts considerably at the sight of him in front of you. A wave of caramel hair falls over his furrowed brow as he scans your face, looking for signs that something is wrong. You brush it away, hand coming to rest on his cheek. 

“I’m fine. I missed you a lot.” 

Your voice is a paper-thin whisper, giving you away even as you try to downplay your condition. 

“I missed you too, but I’m a little worried. You’re pretty warm.” His eyes dart away from your face and down your body, seeming to notice your attire for the first time. “Did you go to work?” 

“I tried to. But I had to come home at early. I guess I didn’t make it all the way to bed.” 

This seems to worry him even more, if the way his eyes narrow and the line of his mouth tightens is anything to go by.  

“How long have you been asleep?” 

“Well... what time is it?” you ask sheepishly, still disoriented. 

“10:20.” 

“Oh god,” you moan, burying your face into a pillow (which does not make breathing any easier through all the congestion), “I’ve been sleeping for eight hours!” Panic wells in your chest at the ridiculous notion that you somehow lost an entire day to sleep.  "I didn't mean to-"

“Shh, relax, it's fine. Your immune system works a lot more efficiently when you’re asleep. It’s the best thing you can do when you’re sick. Studies show that melatonin may actually be an effective antiviral, and people who sleep seven hours a night are 300% less likely to develop an illness than people who sleep only five hours a night.” 

Despite yourself, you smile into the pillow at his unprompted information dump.

“So... am I... 500% more likely to be better tomorrow?” 

He laughs, running a hand through your hair. 

“I don’t even know where you got that number.” 

“I failed statistics in high school,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto an elbow. 

“Honey, that’s Algebra.” 

You bury your face in your hand and laugh at your own stupidity- before it devolves into a coughing fit.  

“Ugh, I’m sorry. I know you hate germs,” you say once you’ve managed to get the coughing under control. You look at his face, but there are no signs of disgust or fear. 

“I could never hate your germs. But I am worried about the cough... do you think a bath would help?” 

You mull it over. Part of you wants to rot on the couch forever, but the more rational part knows you should definitely get up and try to take care of yourself. With a helping hand from Spencer you rise, stumbling into his waiting arms like a foal on shaky legs. Immediately you feel fatigued, but he patiently guides you to the bedroom and sits you on the mattress before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. 

For a few minutes the only sound aside from you catching your breath is the tub filling from the other room. Soon he returns, to find you curled up on the bed and barely conscious once more. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs, gathering you up in his arms and helping you to your feet once more. “You really don’t feel good, huh?” 

You shake your head, allowing yourself to be carefully herded into the bathroom. Spencer moves to sit on the edge of the steaming tub, pulling you forward gently by your belt loops. Deftly he begins to undo your jeans as you fumble with the buttons on your shirt. 

“I feel like I’m dying,” you groan. He glances up at you.

“I wish you would have told me you were sick. I would have come home earlier.”  

“I thought about it,” you admit sheepishly, “but I figured better I be sick and alone than more people potentially end up dead because I’m too needy.” 

Your boyfriend sighs, resting his hands on your hips as he looks up at you with a mix of earnestness and admonishment.  

“At least tell me next time. I don’t like the idea of you here all alone without anyone knowing you’re ill.” His fingers press gently into your flesh to emphasize his point. “Okay?” 

“Okay,” you agree softly, without hesitation. Spencer’s expression softens too, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your sternum. 

“In,” he directs after you wiggle out of your jeans, getting out of the way and helping you into the water. He watches as you carefully submerge yourself, a little tense as if he’s ready to jump into action at any second. “Is it too warm? I tried not to make it too hot because your body temperature is al-” 

“It’s perfect,” you reassure, sinking further in. Steam billows up around you and you sniff. “Lavender?” 

Spencer nods, settling on the floor next to you. 

“And mint. I’m surprised you can actually smell it.” 

Normally you’d tease him for his fussing, but the minty steam really does seem to be helping you breathe a bit easier. After only a few minutes, you feel noticeably better. 

“Will you read to me?” you ask dropping your head to your shoulder to look at him. 

He’s leaning against the wall and monitoring you with a contented look on his face. At the suggestion his eyebrows raise. 

“Of course. What do you want to hear?” 

“Fairytales. But only the super gory ones. The more disturbing the better.” 

“What? No Jane Austen?” 

“Ugh, no. I need to hear about terrible things happening to beautiful princesses so I can feel seen.” 

A small smirk graces his lips as he regards you, eyes sparkling with humor and thinly veiled affection. 

“You are utterly ridiculous.” 

“You have to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you whine, slinking lower into the bubbles. Spencer hums in sympathy, running his hand through the water to check the temperature before trailing his knuckles over your arm. 

“My poor sick girl,” he teases. You huff indignantly, attempting to hide the way his words make you melt into the bathwater. 

“Just get the book, Spencer.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He kisses your forehead (covertly gauging your fever, you’re sure) before pushing off the ground. You watch him leave, heart overflowing with adoration even though you still feel sick. Maybe it’s the bath that’s helping, or maybe it’s just his presence.  

A minute later he returns to his post beside you bearing Grimm’s Fairytales and a tall glass of water, which he tells you to drink all of before he starts reading. Regardless of how unwell you feel, you find the energy to make sarcastic comments about the characters’ intelligence and the implausibility of the plot (it’s a fairytale, Spencer reminds you) but soon the soothing cadence of his voice enthralls you. The illustrations and the story capture your imagination as you rest your head and arms on the side of the tub. 

More time has gone by than you realize when you begin to shiver in the now lukewarm water. Spencer notices, finally setting the book down. 

“Ready to get out?” 

You nod and he helps you step out of the tub, pulling you close and wrapping you with a fluffy towel. Absolutely no heed is given to the state of his own clothing as your wet skin soaks his shirt, or his own health as he breathes in your air. 

“I’m gonna get you sick, Spence,” you say anxiously, making a feeble attempt to pull away. Spencer doesn’t even begin to allow it, holding you even tighter. The honesty of his words is reflected in his eyes as he looks down at you adoringly. 

“I can live with the idea of spending a few days at home together.” 

You lean into him further, too tired to hold much of your own weight up. 

“I can’t believe you have to intentionally get sick to get time off work.” 

“You’re definitely worth it.” He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back for a moment.  

“And to think,” you muse, the words muffled by his shirt, "when we first met, you wouldn’t even shake my hand.” 

[amaranthineghost]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🥥 ꒱ in the tumbleweeds ( lando norris. )

cowboy!lando norris x city girl!reader

your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. just when you begin to lose hope, a big truck pulls up in front of you and out hops two country boys to help you get your car up and running again

authors note: in honor of me going to the austin grand prix in october, here's cowboy lando (ft. cowboy oscar)

“NO, NO, NO,” YOU HAD WHINED as your car had slowed to stop. the tiny dial on the speedometer had slowed bounced its way down, and down, and down until it had hit zero. now here you were, in your mysteriously broken down car on the side of the road! not to mention, you were in the countryside, the middle of nowhere.

all you could do was groan as you twisted the keys out of ignition, after you had smacked the horn with your palm in frustration. you could already feel the heat seeping through the window as the air conditioning had given out—as well as the entire car. 

a frown etched itself on your face, sighing as you used the parking brake—just in case as you would’ve just ended it if your car had begun rolling off after getting out to check. a huffed groan fell from your lips as you struggled with the stubborn brake, which hadn’t been used since you’d gotten the car. 

swiping a hand across your forehead at the strain, you opened the driver’s side door to step out—not before checking the road to see that the way was clear of upcoming cars. 

as soon as the door had cracked open, you could feel the blistering country heat beating down on your body. a soft whimper fell from your lips as the car door slammed shut behind you, raising an arm to cover the sun rays that hindered your sight.

you felt helpless as you turned to look at your car—you had no clue what you were doing! you were not a mechanic, and you were sure as hell not built for this type of heat. you pulled out the phone you had slipped into your back pocket, hand on your forehead as you fingered through your hair. 

your jaw clenched at the no service signal, rendering the device completely useless. just your luck to be stuck, in the middle of nowhere, with no cell service. just you and your broken down car, a few items of belonging in the trunk for your road trip.

hopelessness and panic started to sink in as you bit your cheek to hold back the tears, a hand still on your head as the other went to your hip. you circled the car in ponder—you had no clue where you were. you had no clue where the nearest repair shop was—if there even was one in this barren land. you huffed as you looked at the desert surrounding you—an impeccable view you do admit—with tall mountains in the distance and sparse cacti—and to your surprise, a lone tumbleweed that danced its way across the asphalt road.

your eyes followed the dead bush as it blew, somewhat bewildered at the sight since you’d never seen such in person—only in western movies you’d watch in the comfort of your apartment in the city.

your gaze from the bundle of weeds was torn away when you heard an approaching car from further down the road—actually, you had heard the obscenely loud and blaring country music from the vehicle before the wheels of the car against the road. your brows furrowed on your face as you glanced with squinted eyes at the approaching truck. an uneasy feeling bubbled in your tummy and you felt your hair standing on end at the sight of the big, intimidating truck that was getting closer and closer.

you swallowed thickly as you watched the truck pull off the road right after where you stood in front of your—much smaller and noticeably cleaner—car that looked massively out of place in the dusty surroundings. the music that disrupted the silence was cut-off as the keys were ripped out of the ignition, now met with tranquility as the air around settled.

it wasn’t long after that two guys had opened their respective doors, stepping out of the tall, dirtied, scraped truck. their boots scuffed against the tiny pebbles that littered the asphalt as they slammed the doors shut once again. 

you eyed the pair—but it was the driver who initially caught your eye. with dirtied cowboy boots, tight jeans that hugged his thighs and were speckled with dirt, a button-down shirt with a few too many undone—enough to show off his tanned and toned chest—a dusting of facial hair on his face, and curls peeking out from the cowboy hat that sat a little too low on his head, he walked his way over. alongside him, you assumed was his friend, who wore basically the same thing, except lacking the attempt to be a piece of eye candy.

you were a little stunned as they approached—i mean what if these incredibly attractive and muscled cowboys tried to kill you? it's not like you’d mind, they were hot enough to get away with it, but you just had to trust they wouldn’t—that they had the best intentions at heart.

you watched as the driver had taken the toothpick from between his teeth in between his index and middle fingers, his voice coming out gruffly with a heavy accent, “howdy, li’l lady,” he tapped his hat with a finger in greeting, seemingly too lazy to tip it off after a long days work, “wha’s wrong wit’ y’car?”

you watched his eyes dance between your face—and appearance—and back to your car, which appeared to be fine, but they had seen you standing on the side of the road.

you hummed, pursing your lips as you scratched the back of your head nervously while glancing back at your ride, “uh…” you stuttered slightly, letting out a breathless, nervous chuckle as you grimaced at your inability to get your words out, “it just stopped working.”

“well, tha’s no good,” he mumbled, a smirk on his face as he listened to your smooth voice, another nod to the fact you were not from around these parts, “mind if me and my buddy, oscar, here take a look, ma’am?” 

he threw a thumb in his friend’s direction, who was much paler in comparison, an eye squinted because of the sun as he stood awkwardly with his arms crossed against his chest.

you breathed a sigh of relief, saving you the pain of having to ask for his help—making him go out of his way if he didn’t offer to begin with. you nod, “please, if it's not too much of a hassle for you-”

he waved his hand dismissively, “nonsense, ‘s no problem to help out a pretty girl such as yerself,” he ignored the eye roll from his buddy beside him, nodding his head in gesture to the front of your car, “pop the hood f’me, would ya?”

you nodded quickly with a hum in response to tell him you heard him as you quickly did just that. you opened the car door, another noise surpassing your lips at the heat that had already accumulated in the car. the fact it was humid was just the cherry on top to make you even more miserable. nonetheless, you shook your head and dismissed the heat. Instead, you had done what the country boy had asked—after oscar had leaned against your open passenger side window to tell you how because you had never needed to before. 

a breathless thanks falling from your lips earned a small smile from him, tilting his head in acknowledgement as you once again stepped out from the car. you walked to the front of the car, hands on your hips and eyes squinted as you felt the sweat drip down your face.

you turned your body away from the sun, watching intently as lando had rolled up the sleeves of his button-up, revealing sweat-dirtied skin and veins from hard, strained work. you eyed his hands—already messy from the day's work they had done—and he had noticed, but he decided to not comment on it so soon.

part of you felt bad—they had probably just got done doing laborious tasks in the blistering, country heat and now you were making—they offered—them help you get your car up and running again.

you heard a hum fall from his lips as he settled his sleeves at his elbows, “le’s take a look ‘ere,” he mumbled to himself, taking the gloves that hung out of his back pocket and slipping them on to protect himself from the heated engine. a tinge of disappointment ran through your body at the fact he was covering up his hands, but there was plenty more of him to stare at—what?

you mentally shook your head—you just met the guy! he could probably—he did—see that you were checking him out head to toe. the way his biceps clearly filled out that button-up, the outline of his chest against the loose fitting torso of the fabric, the way the blue denim hugged his thighs just perfectly and fell loose below his knees, the bunched fabric at his elbows, the toothpick bitten between his teeth that slightly indented his bottom lip. you had to force yourself to peel your eyes away from the poor guy before you got lost in the way the sweat dripped down his neck.

his forearms leaned against the front of your car as he hunched over the engine, his gloved hands working through all the possible problems. every now and then, he swiped the back of his hand across his forehead to rid his face of the sweat.

you watched as his friend hovered beside him, offering enlightening suggestions to what could be wrong-

“aha!” his small celebration cut through the silence as your gaze once again settled on him, watching as he stood up, stretching an arm across his chest and his neck to the side briefly, “i see wha’s the problem.”

you looked to him with widened eyes, finding his gaze already on you as you swallowed nervously, “can it be fixed?” you asked, your voice sounding smaller than you would’ve liked—i mean the possibility of you getting out of here relied on the men in front of you.

“no, yeah, ‘ll be able to fix ‘er up in no time, but…” he shook his head, shutting the hood back as he leaned forward on his hands as they rested on the car, “ ‘ll hafta come back t’morrow, y’know.”

you nodded in sullen understanding—even though, no, you didn’t know—you sighed at the thought of sleeping in your hot, humid, broken car on the side of the road for the night, in the middle of nowhere.

oscar piped up, uncrossing his arms to lift his hands as he spoke, “actually, i might have a few tools-”

lando patted his hand against oscar’s chest, chuckling as he shook his head, “don't listen to ‘im ‘ere, he don’t know what he’s sayin’! must be the heat gettin’ to that empty head of ‘is! y’know wha tha’s like, yeah?”

you hum in confused agreement, your lips pulling into a straight line as you nod slowly, “uh, yeah… sure.”

he chuckles breathlessly, raising a hand towards you that says ‘see, you get it.’ “musta forgot we left them tools back at ‘r house!” he shakes his head as his empty chuckles die down, ignoring the glaring side eye from his friend, “now won't you give us a minute ‘ere, li’l lady.” he flashes a smile before grabbing a fist full of oscar’s shirt, hauling him off to the side of the road as they stand off in the dry, dusty dirt.

you watched as they seemed to get into very passionate conversation—and listen in. it's not like they were being quiet in the first place, you couldn't help but hear the words that left their mouths in hushed whispers—though most of it was in a thicker accent than when she spoke to them directly.

“what are you sayin’?!”

“what am i sayin’? what are you sayin’?” he shakes his head with a scoff, throwing a hand back in gesture towards the car, “y’know we can fix the damn car with the tools back in ‘r truck!”

“c’mon, osc, jus’ humor me this once!”

“yer bein’ an idiot, off yer rocker or sumthin’” he shakes his head with his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother as his boot taps against the ground, “yer hopeless.”

lando ignored the last comments from oscar as he walked back towards where you stood as he peeled the gloves from his hands, shoving them into his back pocket once again. he stood before you with his thumbs through his belt loops, looking down at you as he spoke.

he sniffled quietly, his nose scrunching, “we’ll give ya a ride to the next town over, missy,” he nodded his head once, his index finger swiping away the sweat over his top lip.

but before you can respond—tell them that it’s okay, you can sleep in the car—he makes a disapproving noise as he looks towards the sun. your gaze follows his, furrowing your brows as you don't seem to notice what he does.

he shakes his head, inhaling through his teeth, “actually, ‘s gettin’ dark out, darlin’,” he said slowly, gauging your thoughts by the way you react, “next town’s probably quieting down right about now.”

“oh,” you say simply, “well, that's alright, i can just sleep in my car, i guess.”

he dismisses your suggestion, “no need for that, missy. we can set you up at ‘r place?” he offers, an eyebrow raised at the suggestion, sensing the hesitation in your expression and body language.

you shook your head rapidly—they had already took the time to even look at the problem with your car, but now taking up space in their house? you felt like you were being greedy now.

“no, i don’t want to intrude!” you try to decline politely, waving your hands dismissively in front of you, “besides you’ve already helped plenty by even offering to fix my car.”

he chuckles, shaking his head in return, his curls bouncing slightly, “ ‘s no biggie. take yer in ‘r truck,” he nods towards the scuffed up vehicle behind him, “set ya up in ‘r guest room all nice and cozy, have yer car fixed before you even wake up. how’s tha’ sound, darlin’?”

you bite your lip as he looks at you, brow still raised in the question of ‘will you come with us?’ and how can you refuse the nice country boys, with their funny accents and silly words, who just want to get you on your way?

you nod reluctantly—it's not like you didn’t want to go with them, but you still felt like you were being a bit of a leech, “yeah, okay, if it's not too much of a hassle-”

“atta girl!” he smacks a hand down on your shoulder, almost too eagerly as he guides your path towards the passenger side of his beat-up truck. you tense under his hand, glancing back at the car with a frown.

“well, hold on now, lando,” oscar calls out, shaking his head as he mutters something about the eagerness of the man, “she might need to get a few of ‘er things from ‘er car! practically kidnappin’ her with how fast yer tryin’ to stuff her inside!”

lando tsk’s his tongue, pointing a finger in agreement at oscar’s words, “ah, suppose yer right,” he reluctantly drops your hand from your shoulder to let you back to your car. 

you awkwardly shuffle your way to the trunk of your car, acutely aware of their heavy gazes—especially as they studied you.yYou knew they knew you weren’t from around here, that you were not used to being in the weeds as they were and it heated up your cheeks to be so out of place and awkward next to them.

you quickly fill your hands with a small blanket and a change of clothes for the next day before shutting the trunk again, locking the car behind you as you walk back to lando’s side. his hand goes to the small of your back as he convinces you to ride shotgun next to him.

oscar opens his mouth to protest, his hand raised as he’s about to speak when lando feverishly waved his hand next to his neck—cut it out, osc! he could practically hear in his thoughts.

after he had gotten you settled into his car, he handed you his keys to give it a start—it's okay, climb over the center console and put yer foot on the brake to get ‘er started! don't want ya to burn up now!

once again, he grabbed a fist of oscar’s shirt as he tugged him to the side again, glancing back towards the truck as you settled in the seat after starting the car.

“mate, i know what yer doin’,” he spoke in an exasperated tone of disapproval as he too gazed back at the truck.

lando sighed, clambering a hand on his shoulder and massaging the muscle—weirdly enough for oscar to shrug it off with a grimace look of disgust. lando rolls his eyes, his hand falling back down to his side as he huffs out a sigh, “look, i told you-”

“i get it, she’s a pretty thing, but ‘s unnecessary,” he tells him, raising his brows with his head tilted down, “you should’ve jus’ fixed ‘er car and sent ‘er on ‘er way.”

he sniffles, swiping the back of his dirty hand across his nose, “if you don’t want ‘er back at the house, i understand, osc…”

he shakes his head, “it’s not that i don’t want ‘er in ‘r house, i mean she seems like a nice girl, but-” he cuts himself off, pursing his lips as he closes with eyes with a big sigh before looking at lando seriously, “listen, i just don’t want you takin’ advantage of ‘er.”

“y’know me, osc, and you know i won’t.”

“yeah, but that was before i saw you lay yer eyes on her, and saw them bug out of yer damn head.”

“shut up.” he grumbled, rolling his eyes with the shake of his head as he walked back around to the driver’s side door, watching poor oscar who was forced into the backseat of the car because of you—the pretty little thing in their front passenger seat.

the drive back was awkward to say the least. silence hung in the air, the only sound was the heavy hum of the car and the scrape of the tires on the asphalt. you tried to keep your eyes forward, ignoring the man beside you who drove with a single hand on the bottom of the steering wheel. whenever you’d glanced over, you could see the paled skin of his knuckles from his hard grasp on the wheel.

you had to forcibly peel your eyes away from the sight of his hands​​—his dusty sleeves still rolled up to his elbows, which exposed the smeared dirt across his tanned skin from his outside work. you couldn’t see, but a smirk etched its way onto his lips, his thumb swiping across his lips as if to wipe it away before you or oscar would notice.

the truck jostled to the side a bit as the road changed to rough gravel, hearing the crunch under the weight of the car. the house—that you assumed belonged to the two guys—came into view.

your eyes scanned the land—plenty of trees surrounded the property with a few animals here and there, a red barn further back near the edge of the forest, and the house itself. 

you didn't know what to expect when the thought of their house had first crossed your mind—but it hadn’t been too far from what you were seeing. the house looked quaint—a single story with a wrap-around patio, another vehicle parked up outside a good distance away from a red, wood dog house that had a water bowl next to it.

as lando pulled up to the house, parked up next to the other car, he killed the engine before getting out. you swiftly followed by unbuckling your seatbelt as you reached for the door handle, but you were beaten to it by the poor backseat dweller.

you gave him a soft smile—which he returned—muttering a ‘thanks’ as you took the hand he offered as he guided you down from the tall truck. he gave you a nod, dropping your hand as he shut the door behind you before looking over at lando, whose jaw was noticeably clenched. all oscar did was roll his eyes and begin to show you around the property, inviting you into their cozy country home.

lando quickly found himself by your side, gently taking your belongings from your arms with a friendly smile as he interrupted oscar, “ill get you set up in ‘r guest room,” he offered, taking great care in holding your precious belongings, “osc, why don't you go show ‘er them barn cats in the meantime.”

he watched the way your eyes lit up, failing to realize that the smile on his face grew bigger at your reaction—he enjoyed the way the tension slowly filtered from your stance at the thought of seeing some cute cats.

the air had begun to cool now, they had finally finished naming off all the little critters that lived on their property and were now taking you back to their main house for a bite to eat before hitting the hay. you would’ve denied being hungry if it weren’t for your tummy grumbling for nearly ten minutes.

you would’ve denied being hungry if it weren’t for the smell of a nice, home cooked meal that made your mouth water and your tummy growl even most incessantly. it was by far the best meal you had ever eaten in your life, and you started to relax and loosen up a bit more in their presence.

so now you were all sitting around on the couches, one was worn leather and the other some frayed corduroy fabric with several different patches sewn onto it. oscar had his head leaned against the backrest of the leather couch, his cowboy hat over his face and arms over his chest that moved with every soft inhale and exhale. in one of his hands, tucked in his elbow was a green, half drunk beer bottle that was still cold as the condensation dripped down the side.

lando, on the other hand, had taken his spot in the old recliner, a beer also in hand as he sipped causally, eyes glued to the old tv—it still had antennas and you were perplexed on how it still worked. still, you watched whatever old movie lando had claimed was the best movie that had ever existed—it was older than you.

it was late in the evening, the sound of cicadas and other loud insects chirping away as the sun had finally fallen from the sky, painting the sky a dark black with speckled stars. you were confused at first as to why lando had ushered you out onto the porch so late at night, but once you glanced up to the nice sky, it had all made sense.

a view like this was never available to you in the city, but here and now, it was. away from all the light pollution and tall buildings of the city, you stood under the porch, leaning against the white railing in awe at the unfiltered night sky.

lando had smiled at your mumbles, countless words of how pretty, gorgeous and striking the view was, how lucky he was to be able to see this from where they stood. you shook your head in disbelief, “‘s so pretty,” you had mumbled breathlessly, turning your head to find that he hadn’t taken his eyes off you.

he leaned next to you, a beer still in hand—no doubt it wasn’t his first of the night. your arms barely grazed each other, the fabric of his long sleeve against your bare arm sent tingles over your body.

“sure is,” he whispered back, a smug smile tugging at his lips as he glanced appreciatively over the features of your face before tilting his beer bottle towards you. all you did was smile, feeling the heat rush to your face at his incentive—that you were his best view. you hesitantly took the bottle in your hand, swooshing around the liquid before taking a sip.

he chuckled as your face contorted in a grimace, taking the bottle back from you as he watched your reaction with deep enjoyment, “not a fan, eh?” he teased before taking a sip himself.

“definitely not,” you cough out once you managed to get it swallowed, smacking your lips as you still feel the taste on your tongue, “never had been before.”

his brows raised at your admission, “is that so?” he hums, nodding as he looks back over the property, “so what do ya drink?”

you hum, taking a moment to consider before listing off a few fruity cocktails that you had tried during your club outings. you watched the look of confusion come over his face, the sight making you giggle.

“wha’the hell is tha?” he questions, his voice raised an octave.

all you can do is shake your head and laugh as you nudge his shoulder, promising him, “i’ll have to take you to the city someday.”

“yeah, sure ya will.”

instead of responding, you just rolled your eyes and fixed your gaze back at the awe-striking view. you stood contently for a long time before lando had to force you inside to finally get some rest after a long day, muttering promises that your car would be fixed before first light tomorrow.

cock-a-doodle-do!

when the sound reached your ears, you slipped in consciousness, confusion and disbelief as you sat up in the wood-framed bed. you groaned, your shoulders hunched and hair heavily disheveled. you would’ve slept longer if it were for the rooster that had loudly crowed at the crack of dawn. you had hardly believed that it was something that roosters actually do—you were a bit naive. 

you rolled back in bed, shoving a pillow over your head to block out the sounds of incessant crowing until you had fallen back into a light sleep—stupid chicken.

and when you awoke again a couple hours later with a knock to the guest room door, you stirred. again you sat up, groaned at the forceful waking, but this time you stayed up as you called out for whoever knocked to come in.

the door creaked open, and there was oscar, a smile on his slightly sunburned face, as per usual, talking about how there’s some food left over that you can heat up. though, not all the words make it to your sleep-fogged brain so you just hum and nod, adjusting to the bright sun slipping through the curtains.

you sighed when you realized that by now, your car was probably fixed, that this was the last yummy meal cooked by these nice—and strangely attractive—country boys. surprisingly, you felt your heart ache at the thought of leaving. they had been so nice to you, inviting you into their home with nothing, but care and generosity.

but of course, leaving had come all too soon as you were driven back to where your car had broken down—oscar suffering in the backseat after being forced once again to sit back there. being lead to your car with small talk as it sunk in that the pretty little lady who’s car they fixed was now going on her way.

they stood either side of your car, oscar on the passenger side and lando on the driver's side. you had the door propped open, starting the car with a smile on your face, but it quickly turned sad.

as you closed the car door, you rolled down the window to look up at lando as he stood closer, hands in the front pockets of his jeans, a small smile on his lips as he looked down at you. you held out an arm to which he leaned over, allowing you to wrap in around him, his arm snaking around your back. he lightly patted it after a few moments, relishing in the affection before inevitably pulling away.

“thank you again, mr.—” you paused, realizing you hadn’t gotten as acquainted to learn their full names, suddenly feeling a bit red in the face as you blanked.

all lando did was smirk as he leaned against your car door, arm over the window as he bent down to eye level with you. his other hand snaked its way up to the hat that sat atop his head. he revealed the dark curls beneath as he lifted it from his head, situating it on yours the best he could—it wasn’t as secure of a fit on your head compared to his. “norris,” he finished the sentence for you, now holding out his hand for you to shake—which you do—“lando norris. it was nice to meeting ya, darlin’, see ya around.”

—

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proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[dearstvckyx]

‘whats an everything shower?’ - lh43

pairing : Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

genre : fluff (very clingy luke)

mentions : shaver / razor

Luke Hughes sat inside the dim bathroom, his back against the doorframe, legs stretched out in front of him. It had been months since he and his gf of 6 years had been in the same place for more than a few days. Between his commitments with the NJ Devils and playing for Team USA, their time together had been short. But now, in their shared Michigan lake home, he couldn't bear to be apart from her—even if she was just on the other side of the shower curtain.

"Babe, come on," he groaned, tapping his fingers on the floor. "How long does it take to shower?"

He heard her laugh softly from behind the curtain. "I'm doing my everything shower, Luke. It takes time."

His fingers stopped tapping and as he looked at the cupboard in front of him before slowly looking at her silhouette through the curtain, he asked her, "Your what?"

"It's when I do everything," she explained laughing lightly, her voice echoing slightly in the tiled bathroom. "Shaving, exfoliating, hair mask, face mask, deep conditioning—everything. It's like a spa day, but in the shower."

Luke sighed dramatically, making sure she could hear it. "But I miss you. You've been in there forever."

She chuckled again. "It's only been 30 minutes, Luke. Patience."

"I have no patience when it comes to you," he replied, a hint of a smile in his voice. "I just got you back, and now you're hiding in the shower."

The girl in the shower rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see it. "I'm not hiding. I'm just trying to unwind. I love my everything showers."

Luke leaned his head back against the doorframe, closing his eyes. "Okay, okay. I'll be quiet. But hurry up, okay? I want to spend every second with you."

She smiled to herself, feeling the warmth of his words. "Alright, I'll try to be quick. But no promises. This is sacred time."

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Fine. Just know I'll be right here, waiting. Always."

Their laughter filled the small bathroom, a comforting reminder that despite the time apart, their bond remained as strong as ever. And as she continued her everything shower, she took comfort in knowing that Luke, her clingy but loving boyfriend, was just a few feet away, waiting to wrap her in his arms once more.

Finally, Luke heard water stopped running, and his girlfriend emerged stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a fluffy towel with her hair piled on top of her head. Luke's eyes lit up as soon as he saw her.

"Finally!" he exclaimed, standing up and immediately pulling her into a tight hug. "I thought you'd never come out."

She laughed, hugging him back just as tightly. "I told you it takes time."

He nuzzled his face into her damp hair, breathing in her familiar scent. "You're worth the wait," he murmured against her skin. "Every single second."

His girlfriend pulled back slightly to look up at him, her eyes sparkling. "I missed you so much, Luke."

"I missed you too," he said softly, cupping her face in his hands. "But now we're here, together. And I'm not letting you out of my sight."

"Well," she whispered, leaning up to kiss him gently. "I still have to change." she said, cause the taller boy to groan.

“Just throw on one of my shirts or jersey. Not like you haven’t worn my clothes before.” Luke said to her, winking in the last sentence, which resulted in a playful smack from the shorter girl.

As they finally settled into bed, Luke pulled her close, his arms wrapped securely around her. "Goodnight, my girl," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Goodnight, Luke," she replied, snuggling into his embrace. "I love you."

"I love you too," he said softly, closing his eyes. "Always."

And with that, they drifted off to sleep, content in the knowledge that no matter the distance or time apart, their love would always bring them back to each other.

[desireangel]

Infernal Desires | Part One

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

Synopsis: When your family is caught up in treasonous scandal, the Prince Regent makes an offer that is impossible to refuse. To avoid what certainly would have been death by his sword, your family promises you to a man who is followed by whispers of violence and sin.

Warnings: mdni 18+! Strictly. Dark-ish ??? Aemond! Bad language, reader is implied to be from a certain family but not really, rushed & unedited. Sexual tension, allusions to sex, mentions of death and killing, Aemond gets angry handsy, hair pulling, mention of the noose bc Aemond would never tell just anyone how he feels. This is mainly a word vomit - I am once again incapable of limiting my writing to one part.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: aaand I’m back with a rewrite of an old fic I started last year! hopefully this is somewhat decent to follow along with - I wrote this while severely sleep deprived, stressed about procrastinating my uni work and knackered from work. Let me know if we are even interested in a part 2 or if I’ve missed any warnings!

It is a debt to be paid and an alliance to be made, that is all it is. 

Easy enough for them to say. After all, it was you who suffered from the mistakes of your family and not them. They may as well have left you to the dangers of King’s Landing with nothing more than a shattered dignity and the tears that trailed down your cheeks. 

Shit. Crying wasn’t going to do anything and while you never intend to present yourself as weak to anyone, there was nothing you could do to stop the angry tears that welled in your eyes. You wondered if your parents truly pained to see their daughter cry or if the tremble in your mother’s lip was nothing more than a pretence. 

Your father stared at the ground by your feet. “It was not meant to come to this.”

“But it did. Are you really going to barter me to–”

“We are not bartering you. Stop saying that,” He snapped. “All you will have to do is take the title as his wife and give him children. It cannot be that bad.”

The glare you sent his way was full of malice and rage. How could he say that? You were better than that, smarter than that and the thought of being reduced to who knows what that man had in store for you as his wife - they may as well have cut your tongue out and made you a slave. Knowing that your family, whom you loved endlessly, were so sure of selling you so easily to a cruel man like Aemond Targaryen caused a dull ache in your chest. 

It seemed hard to breathe through the betrayal, your chest heavy with deceit and heartbreak. Had you known what your father had been planning, you could have run away and found a way to survive without the comfort of your family lands. 

“What Prince Aemond has offered has saved us,” Jericho stood leaning lazily against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. He stared at you, his little sister who would have died before leaving him to such a fate. “I do not expect you to understand the complex relationships between our Houses but consider this, dear sister. Would you rather him have the Vale burned to ashes? Have us hung from the walls of the Red Keep? I made a mistake. I know this, and I am sorry but this is the only choice we have.”

There was a tense silence. Jericho had ruined everything with little chance of repair and it was you who had to pay the price. You knew how the Crown punished Rhaenyra’s sympathisers and Jericho had damned the future of your family. What was happening is wrong - war is never worth the price it takes. You wholeheartedly agreed with that but there was something inherently stupid about putting the people you cared about at risk just to send a raven with a conditional offer of a bent knee. 

You blinked as you tried to make sense of it all. “Explain it to me. I do not understand.”

“Aemond Targaryen is Prince Regent but I was once his only friend,” Jericho said. You knew he used the word friend strategically. “He extended an olive branch. Repent our House’s treachery through our last daughter and a pin for the Vale on King Aegon’s map. You could not understand how generous that is. Refusing would have been a sentence of death.”

Friend? Generous?  You would have laughed if you could. You briefly wondered how Jericho had managed to barter with the Prince Regent before they had taken his head. Alas, it would be of no use to ask a question you would get no answer to. The men of these walls underestimated the capabilities of a woman’s mind and a woman’s strength. 

“All he gains is something to hold over your head, brother. Paying off your mistakes with my life? You have heard the stories - he has become a cruel man. Warming his bed when he sees fit and making his heirs will not fix what you did. Many have been executed for far less.”

Your father cleared his throat. “It is our only option. We have nothing more to offer in place and a ruined reputation. The family name holds the last of our power and without what little power we have left, your brother and I would lose the Vale. It is a miracle we have not already.”

“The Prince wants to dangle you over our heads? Fine. If that is what it takes for him to spare our lives.” Jericho’s voice was so rough. It was the first time you had seen him as anything other than gentle to you and you felt a heaviness at the sight of him so distressed. 

There was not much left for you outside of the empty empire that your father’s father had built for your family. At least you still had each other and your titles, and despite the situation that they’ve forced you into, at the end of the day, you all loved each other to death. It would have been a death sentence but you could have run away instead, could have found a life for yourself somehow. But how could you live with yourself knowing that you’d damned those you love because of your pride and fear of life as a princess?

So reluctantly and tearfully, you nod your head and silently agree.

Aemond wondered whether he was making the right decision by giving Jericho a second chance. If it were anyone else, he would have had them hung without a second thought. But you and your brother were different. 

It was a moment of weakness, an inexcusable lapse in his judgment to have spared Jericho’s treason because he remembered you and to have further justified his actions by claiming the Vale through your betrothal. While it was his first and foremost motivation and Aemond was bound by duty to take advantage of the opportunity, it was not the only reason he had suggested the idea at the Small Council.

There was hardly a person in Aemond’s life whom he could call a friend. There was not a soul in this world that Aemond could truly trust, not even Jericho who had been by his side for the first parts of his childhood. 

Nor you, who had at once shown him kindness in his youth despite the mockery that was often made of him. You had only accompanied your brother and father to King’s Landing on three occasions, and what started as your soft conversation and willing smiles for him had left his memory entirely until he heard word of Jericho’s treacherous message. 

Aemond, despite your attempts at friendship, had never returned your kindness. In truth, he didn’t know how to. And quickly, your smiles had turned to frowns and your attempts at friendly talk had become sarcastic remarks and quiet scoffs.

It was also a moment of selfishness and a decision made with nothing more than foolish curiosity. You had always been there, in the back of the picture and unnoticed by everyone apart from him. There was not a person in this world who had peaked his curious desire more than you and the two of you had spent the brief occasions together bickering and pestering one another. Regardless of your initial efforts, Aemond was never your friend. While he had never actually done you wrong before now, you were never really fooled by his deceiving nonchalance and forced manners. 

The indifference that you had for each other had no cause to fade. Even less so with the recent murderous, vile stories of Aemond the Kinslayer who killed his nephew and (while most wouldn’t dare utter the words beyond certain walls) who may have crippled his own brother with Vaghar’s fire. You had almost fallen to your knees upon hearing of your betrothal to such a man.

Aemond was now twenty and three but when it came to whatever distorted plot he was planning, he felt juvenile. Your brother and your father were the perfect pawns. You were the perfect leverage - perhaps a pawn yourself. As much as he convinced himself that having you in his possession would mean he would have invaluable power over your House to do exactly as he wanted within his twisted politics while he has the power to do so, the idea of having you in the palm of his hand, in his control and eventually beneath his body was exciting. 

He was never one for meaningless entertainment. But what was the harm in indulging himself this once?

It was a formality. Being presented at King’s Landing for the first time to your future husband, his family and to those whom he currently ruled over as the woman to be his wife. 

You had changed since the last time Aemond had seen you. It had only been two years but he would never admit to his surprise at just how different you had become from the cowering young girl he remembered you to be when you were just ten and four. 

He had rushed through the formalities of greeting you and your family, welcoming you into what would come to be your home. The lunch was painfully awkward as little was said between anyone. The Dowager Queen spoke formally yet kindly with your mother and shared a few words with you but you could barely engage with her conversation under the burning gaze of the Prince Regent who sat across from you.

It was over quickly, before anyone could start bickering about the traitorous reasons behind your presence. Aemond shortly convinced his mother that no escort would be needed, so long as Ser Criston Cole was there when you both were left to acquaint yourselves in private. You gulped as you were lead shamelessly into the Prince’s chambers. 

Aemond only set a glance upon Ser Criston and the raven haired man took his place outside the closed doors.

You were sure that the Prince’s chambers were as large as an entire wing of your own home yet you felt claustrophobic under his gaze. His eye was hellfire as he silently stared at you, leaning back in his chair and resting his fingers under his chin. There was little you could do but stare back at him, anxiously tapping your foot on the marbled floor.

In your eyes, Aemond had always been torturously beautiful. But here, as his gaze fell upon you and you shared the silence of his personal space, he was ethereal. It caused your breath to catch as you waited for him to address you first.

Shakily, you broke the silence. “Why am I here, my Prince?”

“You are to be my wife,” He drawled, fingers tapping on the desk that he lazily dragged his hand along. What a stupid question. “That is why you are here.”

“I believe you know that is not what I ask, my Prince.” You scowled at him. It wasn’t smart to talk to him in such a way, you knew that. He is Prince Regent, after all. A memory of your brother’s warning to be careful flashed briefly in your mind. 

His expression deceivingly calm, Aemond considered putting you in your place. He may be behaving in a way he does not recognise of himself but he would not tolerate your disrespect. 

Instead, he somewhat answered your question. “We will be married so that your brother’s treason shall be forgiven and your House will be sworn to the King. You will stay here, in my chambers. Do whatever the seven hells you please, it does not matter.”

In any other instance, Aemond would have detested the sight of you gaping at him, stumbling over your words stupidly as your wide eyes confidently held his own. You had changed. Or maybe he had just been blind to the perfect curves of your body or the way you looked at him like he ruled the realms, so submissive yet so full of fire. So tempting. 

He’d condemn himself to the noose before ever admitting to his thoughts. 

“What?” you almost gasped. There was no chance that you could stay in his chambers like this. You were sure the whispers of the Keep were already running amok with Aemond’s insistence on isolating the two of you behind the doors to his private chambers.

Aemond took pleasure in the way you seethed. “I will not make it so easy for you to return to scheming with your treasonous family.”

You could hit him. If he weren’t a Prince, you would have. “You are keeping me prisoner? For something I have had no such hand in?”

“No,” he stood from the table and in two strides, he was in front of you. So close that you could smell the woody oils he bathed in mixing with the smell of his musk and the leather of his clothes. You shuddered. “Maybe I am. Call it what you like. You can do as you please, eat as you please, wear whatever you please, you can explore these halls as you wish. I do not care. But you will listen to me and it will all be as per my will.”

Before you could respond, Aemond continued. “For all they know, I’ve made it clear to everyone that you will stay in the chambers that I have chosen for you, on the other side of that wall.”

Aemond’s eye was a violet-blue inferno as it held yours. He was closer now and you let your eyes drag across every part of his devastating face, swallowing at his beauty and wondering what lay under the leather of his eye patch. 

Struggling not to lose your breath, not to lean in to touch him and feel him, you held your head high and turned your back to him. “Fuck you.”

A gasp fell from your lips as Aemond’s hand found the back of your head in an instant, slender fingers weaving into your hair gently before closing into a tight fist and pulling back slowly so that you were forced to look up at the roof, the back of your head resting against his chest. His other hand wrapped around your waist, holding you back firmly against him. The tightness of his grip on your hair ached and left you dizzy, an unfamiliar longing for his hands to find more of you with the same fervour had you holding back a pathetic whine. 

Suddenly, you were burning from head to toe, a fire setting on your skin as he held you roughly against him, so close that you felt the feather light tickle of his breath grazing your hair when he spoke. He was scorching you through the leather of his tunic, your dress doing little to shield you from the heat of his body.

More than his anger, Aemond’s amusement made the air heavy. The way he unashamedly let his stare fall upon your lips, tucked between your teeth as you struggled to hold your glare, had your breath snatched from your lungs. 

Aemond dropped his head enough so that his lips lingered just under your ear, close enough that you could hear him draw in a breath, dragging his nose across the dip where your jaw met your neck. Your face burned at how shamelessly he had inhaled your soft scent.

“Is that how you talk to your Prince?” Aemond’s voice was low, dripping with a dominance that commanded respect. Placing his free hand on your left shoulder, he slowly turned you to face him, making sure to keep you tightly pressed against him.

Aemond was disastrously beautiful. The curve of his nose, the strength in his jaw, the way his scar painted the top of his cheek, the soft fall of his pin straight hair and the soft shine of his lips which you so badly yearned to feel. You cursed yourself for thinking such a thing as his low voice broke you out of your distraction. “This is my home. Right now, all of Westeros is mine. You are here because I said so, because I own everything. Everything. Including you. You would do well to remember your place while you are here, pretty thing.”

The fire in your blood was rage. You had never felt such desire that had your body craving another. It was anger driving you mad, it had to be. Despite your better judgment, you whispered once again, “Fuck. You.”

His jaw ticked and with a strong yank, you were flush against him. The pounding of your heart was violent and you were sure he could feel it against his chest but you were stuck under his burning gaze. Aemond was angry. And you couldn’t help but think that it suited him. It made him all the more desirable. 

Aemond was strong and hard against your body, tense as he held you so intimately yet so roughly. 

By the gods, you couldn’t even think. What was happening? 

“My Pr-”

“Quiet,” Aemond commanded. His deep voice, raspy with lust and with rage sent shockwaves down your spine. “What a mouth on you, my Lady. Fuck me, is that so?”

You muttered incoherently under your breath, the desire and the fear making your eyes flutter shut as you trembled against the Prince who held you so roughly.

“Hm,” Aemond chuckled when you let out a short whimper. He squeezed you tightly, his voice low and dark. “I could have you begging on your knees, crying for my cock all day and all night and you would never deserve it. You best careful, ñuha dāria, because I can ruin you.”

Another gasp fell from your lips and Aemond took pleasure in the way you squirmed against him, thighs pressing together as you felt the flush of his words through your body. He hummed, you were so reactive. Somehow, you fit perfectly against him, so that he could feel every little tremor he caused in your body, every goosebump that he placed on your skin. His gaze never left you, his resolve solid as iron. 

Your mouth watered at the thought of the things that Aemond could do to you. Thoughts you had never imagined yourself capable of harbouring, especially not for a man like Aemond Targaryen. It overwhelmed you - he overwhelmed you. 

But all you had to do was glance at the map that was splayed over his table and the weaponry he had discarded at the foot of it before you were trying to shove him away from you. Aemond stepped away from you upon noticing the panic in your movements. You barely noticed the flash of worry that passed through his features before he so skilfully replaced his mask. 

The rise and fall of your chest was heavy and you had the sudden urge to punch the sultry smirk right off of Aemond’s face. That was not okay. Right now, you didn’t even want to think about the way your body reacted to him, they way you would have let him have his way with you right there and then despite all the consequences that would rain down upon you. 

“I will not stay in here,” You closed your eyes to avoid his stare, chest heaving as you caught your breath and reminded yourself of the formalities of Aemond’s title. And of the possible repercussions for denying him so stubbornly. “My Prince, it is not appropriate.”

You hadn’t heard him make his way across the room until you heard the door open. Aemond hesitated, his resolve was not as strong as he had thought given the way his heart was beating as if he had run a mile. The strain at his pelvis was almost painful and his hands urged to be tangled in your hair again, squeezing your hips, feeling the warmth of your skin underneath your clothing. Perhaps you weren’t wrong and Aemond returned to his hardened self at the thought of being unable to control his desires. 

“Hm,” he drawled, stoic as ever and standing tall at the doorway and gazing down at you over his shoulder with a red hot spark in his eye. Aemond’s mind raced with a million words, many in the alluring language he knew you could not understand and they all tasted dangerous on his tongue. “You are not wrong. It is not appropriate until we are wed, ñuha dāria.”

[frudoo]

Slasher 141 again, sorry to bug, I'm chomping at the bit. She meets the others? I humbly ask for more pleaseeee

Can y'all tell I'm horny for slasher Johnny

Warnings: Smut throughout, so MDNI. Fingering, strange men, reader is just getting a taste of what she signed up for. Fem!Reader obvs.

     Simon doesn’t talk much. Maybe it’s because Johnny’s got his hand down your pants and he doesn’t want to interrupt, but even so, he just gives off that kind of vibe. Johnny’s trailing kisses down your neck and you’re whimpering, just trying to get the two of them to make small talk.

“S-Simon, are you… do you also- um… you know. Kill people?” You wince at your poor choice of words, but the kisses from your date don’t let up, so maybe you’re alright.

     Simon’s beady eyes meet yours through the rear-view mirror. Fuck, if he’s not a serial killer, he should be. Those dark brown eyes are deeply unsettling, making you nauseous. He nods in affirmation before turning his eyes back to the road.

"We all are."

Well, shit. Is there such a thing as a murderer-radar? Because if so, yours is in mint condition. 

     Johnny bites down on your neck harshly at the same time his middle finger slips inside of your pussy, and you squeal. Is this what they do? Seduce a vulnerable woman with deadly curiosity such as yourself, just to take her away and dice her up? God, you really should have paid more attention to the warnings in all those true crime documentaries. Now you’re going to end up in one. 

     “Are… are you going to kill me?” You sigh—rule number one: don’t question what the big serial killers are going to do to you while you’re in their truck.

     Johnny grins against your neck, his hot tongue soothing the bite he’d just left on you. He inserts another finger, and, well… maybe getting the best finger-fuck of your life before you die isn’t the worst way to go out. You mewl when he curls them right up against your g-spot and almost miss Simon’s low voice answering your question.

     “If we wanted y’dead, y’already would be,” he shrugs, pulling onto a long dirt road that leads to a large farmhouse, past herds of cattle and fat pigs who look like they’ve never missed a meal. 

     Simon’s answer does nothing to settle your nerves, although the orgasm that Johnny coaxes out of you works well to distract. There’s a black cat waiting by the front door when they guide you inside, and your head starts pounding. If that’s not an omen, you don’t know what is. Damn Johnny and his beautiful, charming self, and damn you for not being bothered enough by his career choice when you should have been. Now you’re not even sure what you’ve gotten yourself into.

     It’s warm inside. Inviting, despite everything, with cozy furniture littered across the den and taxidermied animals decorating the walls. Extravagant chandeliers hang from the ceiling, lighting up the area with a dim yellow aura that helps remind you to breathe. The walls are painted a dark green and the fireplace is going, and on the largest couch sits two more men—one with blue eyes nearly as piercing as Johnny’s, and another with the prettiest lips you’ve ever seen.

     Now that you can see him better, you realize that even Simon is ridiculously handsome, with short blonde hair and a scar across his lip that must have been the result of repairing a nasty split. More white marks are littered across his face, but the honey of his brown eyes don’t seem nearly as cold under this warm light. It almost makes you forget what they do for a living.

     “I’m guessin’ this is her, since she’s not hog-tied,” the one with blue eyes speaks gruffly, standing from his seated position and slowly stalking closer.

     He’s taller than Johnny, but not quite at Simon’s height, and his hand is rough against your skin as he cups your cheek in his palm. His thumb runs along your bottom lip, eyes taking in every inch of your person. The man hums thoughtfully before removing his hands from you, looking between the men who stand by your side.

     “Pretty thing, ain’t she? Nice and soft, too,” he concludes, calling the other man over to check you out as well.

     Your breath hitches in your throat as the new man smiles down at you, those luscious lips spread across a perfectly straight set of white teeth. He doesn’t touch you, just gives you a once-over before nodding.

     “She’s perfect,” he confirms to the previous man before looking to you again. “M’Kyle. Tha’s John, and m’sure y’know those two already.”

     You nod, chewing on your bottom lip. You still have no idea what the hell is going on, or what they mean by perfect. Perfect for what, exactly? More taxidermy? Pig food?

     “Glad ye approve, Cap’n, Gaz,” Johnny beams, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Knew ye’d love her.”

     Your eyes widen slightly when Simon leans down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, followed by Kyle, then John. You’re frozen in place, but Johnny just chuckles and scoops you up into his arms, strong legs striding down the hallway into one of the bedrooms.

     “Dinnae be afraid, hen. They like ye. Ah told ye, ye’ll ge’ along jus’ fine,” he presses his lips against your temple, then lays you on his bed. 

     “We’ll ge’ yer room set up in the mornin’, but ah need tae taste tha’ sweet cunt reit fookin’ now. Dinnae be quiet, lass, let ‘em hear yer bonnie moans."