#But like I said before all it accomplishes is to make you frustrated

[anna-the-undertaker]

Redemption

Part 2 of Failure

I wrote this while half asleep... i make no promises that this will be of good quality.

tags: @obeymelucigirlie @anfasith

The House of Lamentation was unnervingly quiet in the days following MC’s departure. Even Mammon’s usual complaints had faded, replaced by a tense silence as the brothers struggled to come to terms with what had happened. MC had left, gone without a word, leaving them to face the weight of their own failure.

Lucifer, as always, was the first to break the silence. "We need to go to Diavolo," he said sharply, standing before the others. His voice, though calm, carried the edge of frustration.

Mammon groaned, already exasperated. "Diavolo already told us no, Lucifer. What’s the point of goin' back to him?"

Lucifer’s gaze hardened. "The point is that the exchange program is in jeopardy. If we don’t resolve this, it reflects poorly on Diavolo and everything he’s trying to accomplish. That’s unacceptable."

Satan crossed his arms, eyeing Lucifer with a raised brow. "Of course you’d make it about Diavolo," he scoffed. "As if it’s not our failure that caused this in the first place."

Asmo leaned back, flipping his hair out of his face. "He’s right, though. We did mess up. But leave it to Lucifer to focus on saving Diavolo’s reputation instead of admitting we all screwed up."

Levi huffed from his corner, his eyes still glued to the floor. "Yeah, because it’s not like we’re the ones who pushed MC away or anything," he said sarcastically. "Why admit that when you can just blame it on the need to save face for the program?"

Lucifer’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. His loyalty to Diavolo was unwavering, and while the others were right about their collective failure, the bigger picture was what mattered most to him. "This isn’t just about us," he said, his voice tight. "It’s about maintaining the integrity of the exchange program and Diavolo’s goals. We have to fix this."

"Sure," Mammon snorted. "’Cause that’s what matters, right? Not the fact that we treated MC like shit."

Beel, quiet as ever, finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the tension. "We didn’t think MC would just leave like that. But if they didn’t wait, it’s because we gave them no reason to."

Lucifer glanced at Beel, his expression softening just slightly. "I know we failed them. But if we don’t resolve this, Diavolo’s entire vision is at risk. We owe it to him—and to MC—to make things right."

Satan let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. "Fine, let’s go to Diavolo. But don't pretend this is just about protecting Diavolo’s reputation. You need to acknowledge that we failed MC. We can’t keep avoiding that."

Lucifer didn’t respond, but the tension in his stance remained. He knew they were right—on some level, he had to admit their failure was personal. But he couldn’t let the exchange program fall apart because of their mistakes. They had to make things right, for both MC and Diavolo.

When they arrived at the castle, the atmosphere was tense. Diavolo stood before them, his expression stern, a stark contrast to his usual warmth.

“What is it you want?” Diavolo asked, his tone steady but his eyes narrowing slightly. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”

Lucifer stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. “We want to go to the human world and bring MC back.”

Diavolo’s expression hardened. “No.”

The rejection was swift, but none of the brothers moved. Lucifer squared his shoulders. “You gave us one task, and we failed it. But we can’t just leave things as they are. MC didn’t deserve the way we treated them. We can fix this, but only if you give us the chance.”

Diavolo’s eyes flickered, but his voice remained firm. “And why should I believe you won’t fail again?”

Mammon, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, spoke up. “Because we ain’t the same idiots we were when they first came here. We get it now. We messed up big time, and MC’s the one who paid the price. But we can make things right.”

Levi fidgeted nervously before chiming in. “We… we didn’t realize how much we hurt them. But we’re not asking for an easy way out. We just want to explain. To show them that things can be different.”

Asmo, for once not focused on himself, added, “They deserve to know that they matter. That we care. We didn’t show it before, but we will now.”

Satan’s voice was steady, but there was a hint of frustration in his tone. “We understand that we have to respect their decision. But we can’t just leave it like this without at least trying.”

Beel’s deep voice was the last to cut through the tension. “We owe them more than an apology. We owe them a choice.”

Diavolo remained silent, his gaze sweeping over each of the brothers. There was no arrogance in their voices, no bravado. They were genuinely remorseful, determined to make amends. But the weight of their failure still lingered heavily between them.

“You realize,” Diavolo began slowly, his voice thoughtful, “that this isn’t just about saying sorry. If I allow this, you will have only one chance.”

Lucifer nodded firmly. “We understand.”

Diavolo watched them closely, his gaze sharp. “Whatever happens, you will live with the consequences. If MC agrees to return, you will respect every boundary, every condition they set. No arguments. No excuses. And if MC says no, you will never reach out to them again. You will let them live their life, free of interference from the Devildom. Can you accept that?”

Another pause, then the brothers spoke almost in unison. “Yes.”

Diavolo sighed, his expression softening, though there was still a hint of wariness in his eyes. “Very well. I’ll grant you permission to go to the human world and speak with them. But remember this—this is your last chance. Whatever MC decides, you must honor it. Do I make myself clear?”

Lucifer nodded.

Diavolo looked at each of them again, his gaze lingering on Lucifer for a moment longer before he nodded. “Then go."

With Diavolo’s permission granted, the brothers turned to leave. They had one chance. One last opportunity to make things right with MC. Whatever happened next, they knew they would have to face it head-on.

And this time, they wouldn’t fail.

The journey to the human world felt strange, foreign even to those accustomed to traveling between realms.

They stood together in awkward silence, the unfamiliarity of the human realm unsettling for even the most composed of them. Lucifer led the group, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the tension in his shoulders was clear. This wasn’t about comfort—this was about obligation. He had made it clear to Diavolo, and to his brothers, that they were here to fix their failure.

The air felt heavier as they approached MC’s neighborhood. The houses were neat and quiet, each one blending into the next, a far cry from the towering grandeur of the Devildom. There was no magic here, no signs of the supernatural, only the mundanity of the human world. It was a stark reminder of how far MC had truly come to be with them—and how easily they had pushed them away.

“Doesn’t feel like they’d be expectin’ us,” Mammon muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking nervously from one house to the next.

“They’re not,” Satan replied curtly, his hands shoved into his pockets. “But they’ll have to hear us out.”

Levi was silent, his anxiety apparent in the way his eyes darted to every unfamiliar detail. He wasn’t sure how they were supposed to approach this. What if MC just slammed the door in their faces?

Beel’s gaze was fixed on the house as they approached it, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “We need to make this right,” he said quietly, though it was more to himself than anyone else.

Lucifer didn’t respond, but his pace didn’t falter. His mind was focused, sharp. This wasn’t about personal feelings—this was about salvaging the exchange program, Diavolo’s vision. But the closer they got to MC’s home, the more the weight of their earlier failure pressed on him.

They reached MC’s house, a modest home nestled in the middle of the street. It was so normal, so human. It was hard to believe that the person they had failed lived here, in a place so different from the Devildom. The brothers exchanged uncertain glances, but Lucifer’s expression remained as stoic as ever.

Lucifer stepped up to the door and knocked, the sound loud in the quiet of the neighborhood. There was a pause, and for a moment, it seemed like the door wouldn’t open at all.

But then it did.

MC stood in the doorway, eyes wide with surprise. They blinked, clearly shocked to see the brothers standing on their doorstep. For a moment, they said nothing, their expression caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

“Lucifer?” MC finally spoke, their voice cautious. They glanced past him at the rest of the brothers, their confusion deepening. “What are you all doing here?”

They didn’t step back, didn’t invite the brothers in. Instead, they remained frozen, their body language tense, as if they didn’t know whether to retreat or demand an explanation.

Lucifer cleared his throat, his voice calm and measured, though there was a slight edge to it. “We’ve come to speak with you.”

MC frowned, clearly taken aback. “Why?” Their tone wasn’t angry, but there was a guardedness in it, a wariness that hadn’t been there before.

“We need to make things right,” Lucifer said, his words deliberate. “We owe you an apology."

MC crossed their arms, their brow furrowing. “You came all the way to the human world just to apologize?”

Lucifer met their gaze evenly. “Yes.”

MC blinked again, clearly not expecting that answer. They stayed in the doorway, not moving, their confusion evident. “I don’t understand. Why now? You didn’t care before.”

The question hung in the air, and the brothers exchanged glances, each one feeling the weight of MC’s words. They were right. They hadn’t cared—or at least, they hadn’t shown it. Now, they were faced with the consequences of that neglect.

Satan spoke first, his voice steady. “We didn’t realize how badly we handled things until it was too late.”

Levi shifted awkwardly, his fingers fidgeting. “We… we thought you’d be okay. That we didn’t need to do anything different.”

Mammon scratched the back of his neck, his usual bravado nowhere to be found. “We screwed up, alright? We know that now.”

MC’s gaze flicked between the brothers, clearly still confused. “But why does it matter to you now? You never gave me a reason to think it did.”

Asmo stepped forward, his usual charm subdued. “It’s not just about us. You deserved better than how we treated you.”

Beel nodded slightly, his deep voice quiet. “We need to fix this. If you’ll let us.”

Lucifer, his voice as calm, added, “We’re here to offer you the choice. You don’t have to decide now. But we’d like to explain… if you’re willing to listen.”

MC stood in silence for a moment, their eyes scanning the group. They still looked uncertain, confused. They had left the Devildom for a reason, and now the same people who had driven them away were standing on their doorstep, asking for a chance.

Lucifer didn’t press further, his gaze steady but not demanding. “We’ll only take as much time as you allow. The decision is yours.”

MC remained rooted in place, unsure whether to let them in or turn them away.

MC sighed heavily, the weight of the situation evident in their expression. They stepped aside, opening the door wider. "One chance. That’s all you’re getting," they said, voice low but firm. "But I’m not promising anything."

The brothers exchanged glances, a mix of tension and uncertainty passing between them. One by one, they followed MC inside, stepping into the human world in a way that felt far too personal, far too grounded. This wasn’t the vast halls of the Devildom or the intimidating presence of Diavolo’s castle. This was MC’s home—ordinary, familiar, and completely foreign to them.

As they entered, they couldn’t help but look around, taking in the details of MC’s space. The house was warm and lived-in, with a simplicity that contrasted sharply with the dark elegance of the Devildom. Personal items were scattered about—photographs on shelves, books stacked on a coffee table, the faint smell of something homemade lingering in the air. It was a place of comfort, a stark reminder of everything MC had left behind when they were dragged to the Devildom.

Their gazes softened for a moment as they looked around, taking in the humanity of it all. It was a world they didn’t understand, a world that MC had been forced to leave behind. And now they were standing in the middle of it, unwelcome guests in a place that clearly wasn’t theirs.

"Follow me," MC said, leading them through the house to the living room.

The brothers shuffled in awkwardly, unsure of where to stand or what to say. The living room was modest, with a worn couch and a few comfortable chairs. MC gestured toward the seating. "Sit wherever," they said, making their way to a large, well-worn armchair in the corner of the room—their favorite spot.

The brothers hesitated for a moment before taking seats. Mammon flopped onto the couch, trying to mask his unease. Levi nervously perched on the edge of a chair, his fingers fidgeting with his sleeves. Asmo crossed his legs delicately, still glancing around the room. Beel, as large as he was, tried to make himself smaller in one of the armchairs, while Satan leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.

Lucifer, ever the leader, remained standing, though his posture was more measured now. After a brief silence, he nodded to the others. “We owe you an explanation.”

Mammon was the first to speak. He scratched the back of his neck. "Look, I didn’t mean anythin’ by the stuff I said back in the Devildom. You’re not useless. I just… I didn’t think about how it sounded." He glanced at MC, guilt flickering across his face. "I’m sorry for all the times I treated ya like a burden. That wasn’t fair."

Levi shifted in his seat, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t mean to shut you out. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with it, you being a human and all. It felt… weird. But it wasn’t because I hated you or anything. I just didn’t know what to do."

Satan, his arms still crossed, spoke next, his voice calm but measured. "I was too focused on my own pursuits to notice how you were feeling. I treated you like an afterthought because I assumed you’d adapt. That was my mistake."

Asmo leaned forward slightly, his usual charm dimmed. "I thought I was helping, you know? Giving you tips, telling you how to look your best. But I guess I never really thought about what you needed, not just what I thought you should be."

Beel, quiet as always, spoke softly. "I didn’t think about how my indifference affected you. I didn’t realize you felt so out of place because of it. I’m sorry I made you feel like you didn’t matter... and that I didn't step in even though I saw they way my brothers treated you."

Finally, Lucifer stepped forward, his gaze steady as he addressed MC directly. "We failed you. I failed you. We were tasked with making you feel welcome in the Devildom, and we did the opposite. But I’m asking you now to return to the Devildom and take part in the exchange program again. This time, things will be different. You have my word that your boundaries will be respected, and your needs will be considered. The choice is yours."

MC stared at them, their expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, the tension that had been simmering beneath the surface began to rise. Their hands clenched the arms of the chair, and their breathing became heavier.

"You think this is that simple?" MC’s voice was tight, their body rigid with restrained emotion. “You think you can just come here, apologize, and ask me to go back like nothing happened?”

The brothers exchanged uneasy glances, sensing the shift in MC’s tone.

“You don’t get it, do you?" MC’s voice grew louder, their frustration bubbling to the surface. "I was trying so hard. I was trying to adapt to everything, to be understanding, to keep up with whatever the hell was happening. But none of you cared. None of you bothered to see how hard it was for me.”

Their eyes welled up with tears, but their anger didn’t waver. "I stepped up, even though I had no idea what the fuck was going on! I was thrown into a world I didn’t understand, and you treated me like I was beneath you because I’m human."

Levi shifted uncomfortably, his guilt written across his face.

"You all ignored the fact that I’m human. Do you even realize what that means?" MC’s voice cracked with anger and hurt. "The human world is nothing like the Devildom. We don’t have magic. We don’t have super strength. Everything you guys take for granted? We don’t have that. All the dangers I was exposed to, all the things I saw? I only knew about that stuff from works of fiction!"

The brother's expressions tightened, but they remained silent, letting MC speak.

"I didn’t ask for any of it!" MC continued, their voice rising. "And all I expected—all I wanted—was some support. But even that was too much for you."

Tears streamed down their face as they yelled, their emotions finally spilling over. "You treated me like I was nothing. Like I didn’t matter. And you didn’t even realize it!"

MC’s breath came in shaky gasps as they continued, their voice rising again. "You never thought about what it was like for me, did you? To be ripped out of my world, thrown into yours without a choice. You have no idea what that felt like. The fear, the confusion…"

Their eyes flickered to Lucifer, their tone sharp. "Lucifer, you were supposed to guide me, to make sure I was okay. But all you did was push me harder. You kept demanding more, expecting me to be perfect, like I was supposed to just know how everything worked. You never stopped to think that maybe I couldn’t keep up because I had no idea what I was doing!"

Lucifer’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, allowing MC’s words to cut through the air.

"I kept trying!" MC shouted, their voice cracking again. "I tried to understand all of you! I tried to accept you as you were because I thought… I thought maybe, just maybe, we could make this work. But none of you did that for me. None of you even bothered to try to understand or get to know me."

They took a shaky breath, their fists clenched at their sides. "You all treated me like I was less than you. Like I was just some... pest. Do you even realize how much that hurt?"

Their eyes flitted to Mammon, and their voice softened, though the pain was still raw. "We made a pact... I thought we could be friends, but instead, every day you called me a burden, Mammon, every day you called me useless, and I believed it."

Mammon shifted uncomfortably, his gaze lowering to the floor.

"And Levi…" MC’s voice cracked with hurt. "You made me feel like I was some kind of alien. I tried to get closer, to understand your hobbies, your games, your anime, but you didn’t want me there. You didn’t want me at all."

Levi swallowed hard, his fingers twitching nervously, but he remained silent.

"Satan…" MC shook their head, their voice trembling. "You acted like I was nothing more than an inconvenience. I tried to learn from you, to be better, but you couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge me."

Satan’s face remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—regret, perhaps, or guilt.

"Asmo…" MC’s gaze hardened. "You treated me like I was a toy. You never cared about what I was feeling, only how I looked."

Asmo bit his lip, his usual charm nowhere to be found.

"And Beel…" MC’s voice softened again, though the hurt was clear. "You never cared whether I was there or not. You never even saw me, not really."

Beel’s brow furrowed, his expression conflicted, but he stayed silent.

MC’s voice shook as they continued, the flood of emotions finally breaking through. "Do any of you have any idea what it was like for me? Did any of you stop to think, even for a second, what I was going through? I was terrified, overwhelmed, and completely lost, and none of you cared. You just went on with your lives like it didn’t matter."

Their chest heaved as they struggled to rein in their emotions, tears streaming down their face. "I didn’t ask to be dragged into the Devildom! You all brought me there! I was tossed into an ocean of unknowns and left to drown!"

The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of MC’s words settling over the brothers like a lead blanket. Each of them sat in their guilt, forced to confront the truth they had ignored for far too long.

They took a deep breath, wiping the tears from their face. "I get it. You’re all different. Your personalities, your sins—they make you who you are. But it still hurt. And you never even noticed."

The room was thick with tension, the weight of MC’s words still hanging in the air. Silence stretched between them, broken only by the occasional shifting of one of the brothers. They could feel the storm of emotions brewing within MC, but none of them knew how to approach it.

It was Mammon, uncharacteristically quiet for most of the conversation, who finally broke the silence. His voice was softer than usual, hesitant. "Why didn’t ya wait? Why didn’t ya give us a chance to—"

"I did wait!" MC screamed, their voice cracking with the raw force of emotion. Their words sliced through the air, and the brothers stiffened, caught off guard by the intensity of the outburst. "I waited for days. I stayed at the castle, going back and forth in my head, wondering if I should stay in the Devildom or leave."

They took a shaky breath, the flood of emotions overwhelming them. "I was hoping—no, praying—that one of you would notice. That one of you would realize I was gone and do something. I thought maybe… maybe you’d text me, or call, or show up and ask where I was. But none of you did! Not a single one of you noticed I wasn’t there!"

Lucifer’s eyes darkened with a mix of guilt and frustration, but he didn’t speak. Neither did the others.

"I kept thinking that maybe I was just overwhelmed," MC continued, their voice trembling. "That maybe I needed time to clear my head, and someone—anyone—would realize I was gone. But you didn’t. None of you cared enough to ask where I was."

Their hands were clenched into fists at their sides, their anger spilling over. "Do you even know how long I waited before leaving? How long I sat in that castle, hoping that you’d notice?"

The brothers remained silent, each of them wrestling with their own guilt. MC’s eyes flickered between them, their breath coming in short bursts.

"How long did it take for you to realize I was gone?" MC asked, their voice cutting through the silence like a knife. Their gaze was sharp, demanding an answer. But none of the brothers spoke. Not a single one of them could bring themselves to say it.

The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating. The truth was clear in their hesitation—it had taken far too long for them to realize MC had left.

MC let out a bitter laugh, the sound hollow. "That’s what I thought."

Lucifer stood still, his usual composed demeanor fraying at the edges. He couldn’t meet MC’s eyes. The weight of their words, the sharp truth of how deeply they had been hurt, cut through him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I failed you,” he finally said, his voice low but clear. There was no defensiveness, no attempt to explain away his actions. Just a cold admission of the truth. "My priority has always been the exchange program, ensuring it succeeded for Diavolo’s sake. I didn’t stop to think about the toll it was taking on you."

He took a breath, trying to maintain his composure, but the guilt was palpable. "I pushed you because I assumed you could adapt quickly. I expected you to adjust without fully understanding the strain I was placing on you. That was wrong. I should have noticed your absence, but I was too focused on everything else. On controlling the situation."

His fists clenched at his sides. The fact that he, the one who prided himself on being aware of every detail, had completely overlooked MC’s struggles stung his pride deeply. Yet, even now, he struggled to express anything beyond responsibility for the failure.

"I should have reached out. I should have ensured you were taken care of. That’s on me." His voice hardened, more with self-directed frustration than anything else. "But I can’t change the past. All I can do is offer my word that, if you return, things will be different. You’ll have the support you deserved from the start. I’ll make sure of it."

There was no grand apology, no emotional outpouring. This was Lucifer, after all. But in his own way, he was laying down the burden of perfection, admitting his faults, and offering what he could—a promise to do better.

Mammon shifted uncomfortably, the guilt weighing heavily on him as MC’s words echoed in his mind. He was used to deflecting, cracking jokes, or brushing things off, but this was different. The raw hurt in MC’s voice had stripped away his usual defenses, leaving him feeling exposed.

He finally spoke, his voice quieter than usual. "Look, I didn’t think—no, I know I didn’t think. I was stupid, alright? I didn’t mean half the stuff I said to ya, callin’ ya a burden and all that. I thought we were just messin’ around, y’know? But I see now that it wasn’t like that for you."

His hand rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit he couldn’t shake. "I didn’t notice you were gone ‘cause I wasn’t payin’ attention. I was too caught up in my own crap, thinkin’ you’d just be fine on your own. But ya weren’t, and I didn’t realize it until it was too late."

Mammon’s eyes flicked toward MC, the usual spark of confidence gone, replaced by a rare moment of sincerity. "I shoulda been there for ya. You’re my responsibility—I’m your first, after all and I was startin' to enjoy havin' ya around. And instead of bein’ there when ya needed me, I pushed ya away."

His voice softened, regret heavy in his words. "If I had just checked in, sent a stupid text, somethin'—maybe ya wouldn’t have left. But I didn’t, and that’s on me."

He took a deep breath, his usual bravado completely absent. "I’m sorry. I dunno how else to say it. I messed up big time, and I wanna fix it, if you’ll let me."

Mammon looked down at the floor, unable to meet MC’s eyes any longer, his usual cockiness replaced with genuine remorse.

Levi sat rigidly in his chair, his fingers twitching as he tried to form the right words. Anxiety clung to him, making it hard to even look up at MC. His usual self-deprecating thoughts were swirling in his mind, amplified by the heavy silence that followed Mammon’s apology.

"I... I didn’t know you felt that way," Levi stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought… I thought you didn’t really care about me. Like, why would you? I’m just some otaku, stuck in my room, not worth bothering with."

He tugged at his sleeves, fidgeting, the weight of guilt pressing down hard. "I—I kept calling you a normie, pushing you away, ‘cause… I didn’t know how to deal with you being around. I thought you’d never get me. Like, how could you understand me? So, I kept my distance. I didn’t want to let you in."

Levi finally glanced up at MC, his eyes filled with regret. "But that wasn’t fair. You… you tried. You were trying to get close, to understand me, and I didn’t let you. I didn’t see how much you were struggling. I was too wrapped up in my own insecurities to even notice you were gone. I should’ve noticed. I should’ve said something, but I just—"

He stopped, biting his lip, his gaze dropping back to the floor. "I screwed up. And the worst part is, I made you feel like you didn’t belong, like you didn’t matter. But you do. I… I’m sorry."

The silence that followed was deafening to Levi. He didn’t know if his words meant anything, but it was all he could offer now. The regret, the shame—it all churned in his gut, knowing he had failed to be a friend when MC needed one the most.

Satan stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He had listened intently as each of his brothers spoke, but now that it was his turn, the weight of his own actions—or lack thereof—pressed on him. Unlike the others, Satan wasn’t one for emotional outbursts or long-winded apologies, but he knew MC deserved more than just silence.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he began, his tone measured, controlled. "I’ve always been more focused on my own interests. Books, knowledge, the pursuit of understanding… I’ve lived with the assumption that I didn’t need to involve myself in others’ lives unless it directly concerned me."

He met MC’s eyes for the first time, his usual calm replaced with a tinge of regret. "I treated you like you didn’t exist. I didn’t see you struggling because, frankly, I didn’t care enough to look."

Satan paused, his voice tightening with frustration. "I should have known better. I’m not a fool. I’m aware of how difficult it must have been for you, adjusting to the Devildom, dealing with us. But I ignored it. I let my own indifference and arrogance blind me to what was happening right in front of me."

He took a slow breath, his jaw clenched slightly. "I didn’t notice when you left because, in my mind, you were just another part of the background. But I realize now how wrong that was. I should have paid attention. I should have acknowledged your presence, your struggles, from the very start."

Satan’s voice softened, though it remained steady. "You deserved better than how I treated you. I can’t change the way I acted, but I can promise that, if you give us another chance, things will be different. I’ll be better."

There was no dramatic flair in his words, no false humility. It was simply the truth as he saw it—a cold admission of how deeply he had failed to live up to his own standards.

Asmo shifted in his seat, his usual charm and carefree attitude nowhere to be found. The guilt was evident in his eyes, but beneath it, there was a hint of confusion. He wasn’t used to feeling like this—uncertain, unsure of how to fix what had been broken.

"Darling," Asmo began softly, his voice lacking its usual flirtatious lilt, "I… I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you."

He folded his hands in his lap, fidgeting slightly, a stark contrast to his usual self-assured posture. "I thought… well, I thought I was helping. You know? I mean, I love helping people express themselves. I thought if I gave you advice, helped you look your best, it would make things easier for you in the Devildom."

He paused, biting his lip as he tried to find the right words. "But I get it now. I wasn’t thinking about what you wanted. I was just focused on what I thought you needed. I treated you like you were just some kind of project—something to dress up, to show off."

Asmo’s eyes softened, and he leaned forward slightly, his voice quieter now. "I didn’t care about what you were going through. I didn’t stop to think about how you felt, how overwhelmed you must’ve been."

He looked down at his hands, his fingers twirling a ring absently. "I should’ve noticed. I should’ve been there for you—not as someone trying to change you, but as someone who cared about you. The real you. And I’m sorry I didn’t see that sooner."

For once, Asmo seemed lost for words. His usual self-confidence had been stripped away, leaving behind something more vulnerable. "I just… I want you to know that I do care. I always did, in my own way. I just went about it the wrong way."

Beel sat quietly, his large hands resting on his knees as he processed everything MC had said. His usual calm, almost stoic demeanor had given way to a sense of heaviness that weighed on him in a way that even food couldn’t distract him from. He looked down, his brow furrowed, trying to find the right words to explain what he was feeling.

"I didn’t notice you were gone," Beel said, his voice deep and quiet. "And I should have. I’m sorry."

He shifted in his seat, his gaze still focused on the floor. "I’ve always been focused on my hunger, on making sure I didn’t lose control. And because of that, I didn’t pay attention to how you were feeling. I didn’t think about how hard things were for you."

Beel’s eyes flicked up to meet MC’s, the sincerity in his voice clear. "I didn’t mean to make you feel invisible. I just… I didn’t know how to be there for you. I figured as long as I wasn’t hurting you, it didn’t matter if I wasn’t around. But I was wrong."

He took a breath, his hands clenching slightly in frustration with himself. "I should have noticed you were struggling. I should have made sure you were okay. But I didn't."

There was a pause as Beel collected his thoughts, trying to put into words the regret he felt. "I’m sorry for the times I made you feel like you didn’t belong. I didn’t see how much it hurt you, but I see it now. And if you give us a chance, I’ll make sure you don’t feel that way again."

Beel’s expression was somber, his usual calmness replaced with a quiet guilt that weighed heavily on him. He wasn’t one for grand speeches, but in this moment, his words carried the weight of his sincerity.

MC’s hands trembled slightly as they wiped their eyes, their voice still raw from the intensity of their outburst. The confessions and apologies from each brother had hit them hard, but there was still a part of them that remained guarded. They looked at the brothers, one by one, searching their faces for something—anything—to prove that their words were more than just an attempt to ease their own guilt.

"Do you really mean it?" MC asked, their voice quieter now but still carrying a sharp edge of vulnerability. "All of you? Are you really sorry, or are you just saying this because you feel guilty?"

The brothers exchanged glances, the weight of the question pressing down on them. It wasn’t just an apology MC needed—it was proof that they could trust the brothers again.

Lucifer spoke first, his voice steady and firm. "I meant every word. We’ve failed you, and I won’t deny that. But I wouldn’t ask you to return if I didn’t believe we could make things right this time."

Mammon nodded quickly, his hands fidgeting nervously. "Yeah, we ain’t just sayin’ it to make ourselves feel better. I messed up, but I ain’t gonna let that happen again. I promise, MC."

Levi swallowed hard, still battling his anxiety. "I… I mean it too. I don’t want to push you away anymore. I’ll try harder to let you in."

Satan uncrossed his arms, his expression more thoughtful. "I don’t make promises lightly. But if I say I’ll do better, I will. You have my word."

Asmo leaned forward, his voice softer than usual. "I really do care, darling. I may not have shown it the right way before, but I’ll do better. I promise."

Beel, as straightforward as ever, added quietly, "I’m sorry for everything. I’ll try to be more aware of you, of what you need. You deserve that."

MC looked down for a moment, their mind racing. They had every right to walk away, to tell the brothers it was too late, that the damage was done. But something deep inside them—something that had longed for connection, for understanding—pushed them to speak again.

"I’ll come back," MC said slowly, their voice still shaky, "but only if things change. I’m not asking all of you to suddenly like me or be my best friend, but I need you to try. To at least get to know me on some level. I want to feel like I belong, and that won’t happen unless you put in some effort."

The brothers were silent, listening closely as MC continued. "I need you to be more understanding, more supportive. I’ve been doing this on my own, and I can’t come back if it’s going to be like that again. I need to know that you’ll try—that you’ll actually make an effort this time."

The weight of MC’s decision hung in the air, but for the first time since the conversation began, a sense of relief settled over the room. The brothers exchanged glances, the unspoken understanding that this was their second chance—the one they couldn’t afford to waste.

Lucifer stepped forward slightly, his voice steady but softer than before. "We’ll return to the Devildom together. You have my word, things will be different."

Mammon flashed a small grin, though there was still a hint of nervousness in his expression. "Yeah, this time, we’ve got your back, promise. Ya won’t regret comin’ back with us."

Levi nodded quickly, still fidgeting. "I’ll... I’ll try to be better. We’ll make sure you don’t feel alone this time."

Satan gave a brief nod, his voice as firm as ever. "We’ll make the Devildom feel like a place you belong. It won’t be like before."

Asmo, flashing his usual charming smile, added, "This time, darling, we’ll show you that you're welcome. I’ll make sure of it."

Beel simply nodded, his deep voice reassuring. "We’ll look out for you, like we should have from the start."

MC felt the heaviness in their chest lift slightly. There was still a lot of work to be done—trust to rebuild, feelings to unpack—but maybe this time, it could work. They gave a small nod, their voice steady but cautious. "Alright. Let’s go back. Together."

The brothers seemed to relax, the tension in the room dissolving just a little. Lucifer gestured toward the door, his usual authoritative air returning. "Then let’s not waste any more time."

With that, they left MC’s house, stepping back into the human world’s fading light. The transition back to the Devildom felt different this time, the air buzzing with a mix of uncertainty and determination.

As they stood together in front of the portal, the brothers and MC exchanged one last glance. It wasn’t just a return to the Devildom—it was the beginning of a new chapter. One built on mutual effort, understanding, and, most importantly, the chance to do things right.

Together, they stepped through the portal, leaving the human world behind. The familiar sights of the Devildom greeted them on the other side, but this time, the tension that once filled the space between them had begun to fade.

This time, they returned as something more—something closer to what MC and the brother's had always needed.

[thefloatingstone]

Appleseed PDA montage to save you from reading endless pages of unimportant politics that don't amount to anything

also because I have nothing better to do, I'm bored, I'm moody, my gaming laptop is still broken so no BG3, and it's too late at night to start drawing after doing animation clean-up all day.

[hotchfiles]

— help me hold onto you • aaron hotchner

fem!reader, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of angst.

      He knew he would be in trouble whenever he turned those keys. What he wasn’t expecting was how big the trouble would be. He had no idea he would open the door to three bags full of clothes and other things he left at your place as the months passed, waiting for him.

      “Darling? What–What are these?” He asks even though he knows the answer, hoping you want to at least talk about it before making any harsh decisions. You’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now and it works. It always worked.

      Normally you wouldn’t drink before an argument, still when he gets to the kitchen he sees you calmly sipping on a tall glass of wine, fingers tapping on the table, hair up, face clean but red, you were in your pajamas already, nothing like you probably looked hours before.

      “What’s the only thing I asked of you, Aaron?” You don’t move, don’t glance up at him, eyes focused solely on how the purplish red liquid moved in your glass, taking a big sip right after.

      Aaron sighs in frustration, he didn’t want this to become a fight. He was so tired. “I know, I’m sorry–”

      “Answer the question, please.”

      “Don’t make promises I can’t keep.” He takes his tie off quickly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the fabric surrounding his neck. That’s why your relationship worked, you knew he was busy and his schedule was unpredictable, so very early on you accepted it as it was, saying you wouldn’t be mad at him as long as he didn’t break any promises. If you’re not sure, don’t promise me you will be able to make it.

      First months he wouldn’t promise you anything, too afraid to break it, to disappoint you.

      He watches as you take the wine in a mouthful and refills the glass, the bottle now empty and starts getting frustrated, you’re a loud drunk and you’re surely already getting tipsy.

      This was the first time he slipped up, it didn’t need to be such a big deal, it didn’t avail to having his things right at the door as if he was getting kicked out. All the other times he promised he could take time off, he did it. Just–Teens were getting kidnapped, the team needed him.

      “We saved two girls today.” Low blow. But it was true, he wasn’t back in time because of that, he got on the jet instead of staying back to do that. To save two thirteen year old girls. Not some futile reason. It had to count for something.

      “I’m proud of you for that, Aaron. Are you proud of me? For the promotion we were supposed to celebrate with my boss? Or are our accomplishments only worth it when it’s about saving someone?” You raise your voice only slightly, the alcohol from the sweet wine getting to you slowly and then all at once.

      You always tried your best to keep your voice down when arguing with him, simply because he never raised his, and it could be an endearing feature if it didn’t look like he did it to look like the rational one, the right one.

      “That’s not what i said–”

      “I know what you said. You want to make the fact you let me down okay because you did a wonderful thing someplace else. That’s not how it works.” You open the second bottle of wine of the night, feeling his eyes on your back. “I want you to leave.”

      “You know this is ridiculous, you’re acting like a child.” Sore spot. You were a few years younger and that had never been a problem. But he couldn’t go back now, he could see the anger darkening your eyes, your knuckles turning white by the strength you’re using to grip on the edge of the table.

      “How am I a child?” You begin slowly and keeping your voice down, you get up finally from the chair you had been sitting, facing him directly, his instincts make him try to touch your arms, but you dodge it quickly. “We had an agreement. You broke it. Am I a child for not giving you permission to hurt me again?”

      He knows you’re about to snap, your chest coming up and down in rapid breaths, and he doesn’t feel particularly in the right, he knows he screwed up and he’s sorry, but your reaction is out of proportion to him, an exaggeration made to make him feel more guilty than he already does. “I said you’re acting like a child. The one time things don’t go your way and you’re packing me out?” Aaron almost feels the sharpness of a slap but he’s quick enough to grab your wrist. “See? proving my point.”

      “How many times do I have to accept you screwing up so I can be seen as mature?” You yank your arm out of his grip and go back to your drink, “Same times as Haley? How many times did she forgive you so you could go around and do it all again?”

      Lower blow.

      Hotch feels it right in his core and he’s angry at you for bringing up but more so angry at himself because you were right. Still, it is anger nonetheless that guides his next actions, quickly and firmly walking up to you, caging you against the table in sudden movements.

      Your breath hitches from the surprise, and your attempt to move is stopped by his roughed hands on your chin, firm but never close to hurting. “I’m not leaving.” You wince, not in fear of him, but of how easy he can make your mind go blank when he’s that close.

      His eyes go from your eyes to your lips, he notices your failed attempt to conceal the way you licked your lips, he glances at your chest, heavy breathing under your thin pajama shirt, nipples hardening against the fabric.

      Damn you for choosing wine.

      Hotch reads your mind almost, but his smirk doesn’t last too long displayed on his lips, your hands pulling him by the neck, a low groan followed by a “Fuck this” leaving your wine tasting lips just mere seconds before gluing to his.

      Eager to get your forgiveness, he is quick to follow your lead, both hands sneaking under your clothes, one down the waistband of your shorts, grabbing hard on the flesh of your ass, the other drawing soft circles on your nipple.

      You melt into the kiss, his lips, his hands, his scent, him. And you have no time to feel bad about it, pulled up to sit on the table, legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is against your wetness.

      A pained whimper leaves his lips when you use the new position to grind onto him, needing something, anything against your clit at this point.

      Aaron sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to get your full attention, earning a loud moan in response, his hands travel your thighs and you pull his shirt out his pants so you can feel his skin under your fingertips, not bothering to unbutton them and working with what you got under it.

      His lips travel your neck and your collarbone, “I love you, so, so much”. His declaration comes in between kisses and the sucking of your skin, “Please don’t make me leave after this.” It comes in a whisper now, but he doesn’t stop, pushing your shorts down and sliding it down till it drops to the floor with your help.

      “Just shut up and take your pants off.”

      “You know I can only do one of those.” It makes you laugh and you sink your nails to the bit of fat on his side, the tiniest bit of annoyance at how easy he had you in the palm of his hand and how he didn’t even seem to know it truly.

      On the edge of the table sliding his hard cock into your folds was an easy feat, pants, shoes and his boxers long gone, his socks stayed on almost making him lose balance as he feels just how wet you are. He drops his head, forehead on your shoulder

      “Fuck—Oh my god, you are so wet, you’re always so wet for me.” It isn’t arrogant, it’s appreciative almost, you move his head so you can look at him, hot, sweaty already, cheeks so red as his eyes were glassy, the mix of lust and love and regret clear in his dark caramel irises.

      You kiss him once more, sweet, forgiving and he takes this as his sign to continue, pushing you down the table, Hotch holds your thighs for support, plunging his cock into your wet cunt with ease, bottoming out at the first thrust. You enjoyed the stretching pain and you never had the patience to wait.

      Lower lips between your teeth, you slide one of your hands to your clit, two fingers working your arousal, quickly replaced by Aaron’s calloused fingers. You arch your back and moan loudly, “Fuck, yes, and move.”

      It feels like an order and for Hotch it is one, he is delighted to oblige, maintaining the same finger moves on your clit and beginning to fuck your pussy, strong, firm and precise at first.

      “Honey, fuck—Please…” His begging is meant to warn you that if you keep clenching around him he won’t be able to control himself, you almost don’t listen, fingers working on your own nipples enjoying the high he is always able to get you in.

      “Aaron—I’m… Fuck, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

      The praising, the guidance, the reassurance, it makes the moans leaving his lips seem like whining, he enjoys it too much.

      “Yeah? Like this?” The way your hands try to grab him is enough answer to him, along with how tight your pussy is throbbing against him, you’re almost there, he can feel it.

      His movements on your clit get sloppier, the sight and sound of your wetness against his digits making him go insane. Your back arches once more and your whole body begin to squirm, the tight coil in your lower belly finally ripping, “Yes, fuck—“ You’re breathless, weak, but you still have it in you to edge him in, “Aaron, baby, cum for me, please.”

      He would be crazy to do anything but, so quickly you ask him and his hands are hoisting both your legs over his shoulders, getting a new, deeper position, it doesn’t take long for you to feel him filling you up, “I can’t live without you, you’re so, so good for me” His lasts broken words before letting himself go.

      You don’t move and neither does he, his dick softening inside you, his hands caging you in the table and his head dropped to his chest, both just trying to recover.

      “Aaron?”

      “Yes, sweetheart?”

      “You can stay.” He looks at you with nothing but love and happiness and gratitude, “But if you screw up again do not try fucking me into forgiving you, I’ll chop your dick off.”

      “You like it too much to do that.” His grin is sincere, feeling finally free to joke around you, he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. “See?”

      “Bite me.”

      “Gladly.”

[teaandspite]

The Great Goodreads Diss List (Part 1)

Context: For many years now, I have been collecting funny lines from Goodreads reviews to share with my coworkers. (I do collection development, reader's advisory, and weeding at a public library, so I read a LOT of reviews)

Are some of these, perhaps, rather mean? Yes, but they are also very funny, and come from a place of honest frustration. In the tradition of Bargepole threads and lists everywhere, names and titles have been censored.

"First, I want to say that I understand how hard it is to write a book and how amazing it is when it is actually published. Congrats to the author for that accomplishment. That said--"

"Warning: This review will be lengthy due to pure hatred."

"I found myself feeling really, really annoyed with the world that this book is allowed to exist. We live in a universe where the passenger pigeon is extinct but this book goes along merrily being read by unsuspecting lovers of words and ideas and stories? It just seems like too much, you know?"

"Don't do it. Don't spring the cash for the hardcover. Instead, eat an entire bag of Twizzlers, spend some money you don't have at a high-end department store, look up on Facebook the shady college boyfriend that made you cry, research the current value of your home or 401K and then read all about how the big hedge fund managers are faring during the economic crisis. You'll feel about the same stomach pain if you waste your time reading this book."

"This wretched novel begins with the mugging of an old lady and it appears I may be in the process of repeating that loathsome crime as [author] was 78 when she wrote it. It is not nice to put the boot into such a poor defenseless old creature lying there with only a damehood, a Booker Prize and a few million quid. It’s a nasty job but somebody has to do it."

"I think this is the way dead people would write, if they could."

"I am considering setting up SPABB: Society for the Protection of Accurate Book Blurb. This blurb appears to have been written by someone from the publishers who met [the author] the night before, got very drunk, lost his notes and then constructed something in a fug of hangover the next morning."

"I congratulate [the author] on the early half of his book, which was thoroughly fun and made me laugh and think. I congratulate [the author] on the second half of his book, for finishing it. It reads like that was difficult."

"…a woman whose taste in contemporary literature has roughly the same batting average as a pitcher in the National League."

"The author is a pompous windbag."

"Recommends it for: No one. Recommended to me by: A friend who apparently wished to cause me great suffering."

"Makes me wonder: is it possible to obtain similes at a volume discount?"

"The repeated phrases made me want to mail a thesaurus to the author."

"I'm disappointed in myself for finishing this book."

"if the author described [character's] eyes as "obsidian" one more time I was tempted to write her and ask if her thesaurus broke."

"They say that an infinite number of monkeys with an infinite number of typewriters would, if given infinite time, eventually produce the complete works of William Shakespeare. [This book], on the other hand, would probably take the average monkey just under two hours."

"I can't imagine what the author had to do to get this nadir of Western literature printed on innocent trees, but he does seem to know a LOT about being well-connected in New York."

"This book is so bad it is almost worth reading just to make you appreciate the other books you are reading."

"Reads like it was written by a brilliant author, the night before it was due."

"raises interesting questions, like: can a book be so bad as to constitute an act of terrorism"

"has this author ever spoken to a human woman"

"This acorn has fallen so far from the tree that it can’t even see the forest."

"I’m guessing they are touted as ‘beach reads’ because no one will care if they get dropped into the ocean."

"This book begins with all the energy of a hand vacuum near the end of its battery life, and the pace doesn't quicken much from there."

"At least everybody’s eyes stayed the same color this time around.”

Part 2

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (8)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n : I had to cut some scenes, explained in the notes below, to be saved for a bonus chap or drabble. Also, I altered the outline, and this story isn't ending with 9 as originally intended. Happy Chem Ov release day! Enjoy 🖤

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader is left confused by Ewan's online stunt. If he really is content with keeping things casual, then why is he acting otherwise? Tensions reach their peak and Ewan is forced to face the consequences of the arrangement.

Day or night, Ewan will answer your call. 

Even when you seem overly irate at him, greeting him with, “Ewan, what the fuck was that picture?”

He exhales haughtily, your tone almost bringing him some twisted sense of pleasure. Like a ‘this is what you get’ type of reaction. Was he 7 or 27? He’s been labeled sensitive before, but right now, he can’t muster the energy to care.

“Hello to you too, darling,” he says, smoke billowing out of his lips as he lounges on his apartment balcony in London. He had convinced himself that his worries about you and Matt vanished the moment he reaffirmed you as his to the world. In this day and age, in your profession, that can easily be accomplished by something called a hard launch. The first image he posted was supposed to do just that, but the internet has a fickle memory. 

Several months had passed with nothing concrete circulating about you and Ewan, leading fans to readily accept the possibility that you were now dating Matt, prompted by the recent Deuxmoi feature. Granted, Ewan was spotted sneaking out of your building once, but what does that really prove?

Unfortunately, some others spun the story beyond recognition, protected by the anonymity afforded by their black mirrors. Aided with nothing but conjecture, they took it upon themselves to accuse you of infidelity. 

All in all, it had been an eventful 24 hours. His impulsive act of possessiveness quickly turned into a mutable gossip headline.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you reply immediately. “Why would you post that? I didn’t even know you took it in the first place.”

“I was doing you a favour. Don’t you see? People are under the impression that we’re still together.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Darling, you know it matters. It’s not a good look that you were spotted with someone else, you know what people are like,” he said. 

“Oh, thank you so much for saving me from public ridicule, Ewan,” you say, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Since when do you care about what people say? You stay offline for this exact reason.”

“I know some mean things were being said about you.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you insist, but you no longer sound sure.

“I’m doing you a favour,” he says. “If that picture remains, then it’s basically a ‘fuck you’ to all the people who accuse you cheating on me.”

“How can I cheat on you, Ewan? We’re not together.”

He bristles at that statement, the truth that sits unpleasant in the back of his mind. It hurts that you’re right. “You know what I mean,” he musters. 

He hears nothing for a while, save for some shuffling in the background. Are you screaming your frustrations into your pillow? Is your fist raised at the skies, cursing his name? Tell him you hate him, and he will crumble. The three words will come out of him unrestrained. I love you, followed by, please don’t leave me. 

But they already have spilled out of him, lost among his tearful pleas in the car. That night in September, he crumbled and he lost you anyway. What good would it do now? What difference would it make?

You finally speak, and he hears the frustration in your voice, even as it softens, “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

He can’t help but chuckle, the sound low and easy, “Hey, baby, you’re the one who called me.”

But your next words wipe the smile right off his face. “Ewan… this isn’t going to be the last of it. Sooner or later, we’ll have to make it known that we’re not as in love as everyone thinks.”

He frowns, not accepting that you’re pressing on the topic. “Why?”

“Your memory must be so twisted, Ewan,” you sigh, and he can picture you shaking your head, “Don’t you have that ironclad PR arrangement for your new film?”

His chest tightens. Leave it to you to be the bearer of harsh truths. “That… That might not happen.”

“Might not? Oh, for fuck’s sake, you didn’t quit, did you?”

“No, I didn’t quit,” he answers quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. “But can we not talk about the film? It’s not what matters right now.”

“But it does, Ewan,” you insist, the concern in your voice gnawing at him, “you’ve got this important thing, and I… what if I want out? What if I want something real?”

“Something… real.” It's like a punch to his gut, nightmare fuel, and he scrambles for a response. “Like what?”

“I don’t know… I just – ”

“This isn’t real enough for you?” There is no hiding the vulnerability in his voice now. It wouldn’t even work if he tried. “I… I’m not…”

“Ewan.”

You refuse to answer his question, and he thinks it’s for the best. He responds with his usual, “Darling.”

“What are you going to do about that picture?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” he finally decides. 

“What?”

“I’ll get rid of it.”

“Okay. Good.” He can hear the relief in your voice, but he’s not done yet. 

“But you can’t get rid of us,” he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. “I won’t let you.”

You groan, “Ewan… ”

His reply is curt, daring you to disagree, “Darling.”

He’s met with a long and uncomfortable silence, the air thick with everything left unsaid. He needs to break it. He needs a diversion. “Are you home?” he asks.

“Why?”

Even over the line, he can feel you pulling away, like your tether to him is loosening. He can’t let that happen again. “Are you still angry with me?”

“Why?”

“Why don’t I come over and we can hash it out?” His voice drops into that rhythm, the one he knows you couldn’t resist. 

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Maybe so,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips, “but I want you.”

He waits with bated breath, ready to run out the door at your word.

“I can’t believe you, Mitchell,” you sigh, your amusement at him bleeding through. It’s all he needs.

“See you soon, darling.”

All throughout the night, he doesn’t let you go. The moment he steps through your door, the tension from the call dissolves into something more primal, something neither of you can resist. Every touch feels like a desperate attempt to hold onto a love that might slip away, even if just for a moment.

Deep down, he knows, just as you do, that this can’t last. But as the night stretches on and he holds you close, he pushes that thought away, burying it in the recesses of his mind. 

This is enough, even for now. 

And so the song remains the same.

Clad in full costume, you tread the halls of the set, your posture noticeably straighter. Alyna’s attire has a way of transforming you, making each step purposeful, each glance sharp. The familiar weight of the prop weapons at your side makes you feel like a true fighter. 

The Watford studio is buzzing with energy as the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot unfolds, the set alive with activity. It is one of the actual sets used for the show, so you feel right at home - Alyna Rivers in her natural habitat. 

You weave through the crowd, careful to avoid Ewan, whose presence you can never shake off. You’ve never actually been together, in a big group setting such as this, since the beginning of the arrangement. The cast definitely knows something is going on, especially after Ewan’s last daring post on Instagram. Ewan hadn’t deleted the post – he simply deactivated his profile instead. You noticed it the next day when you tried to check, only to find his account gone.

The realisation left you conflicted. On one hand, it meant the picture wasn’t out there anymore. But on the other, it felt like a temporary fix, a way of avoiding the real issue rather than confronting it head-on. It was a pause, not an ending. The post still existed technically, suspended in some middle realm. 

Since the cast is not privy to the sordid details of your arrangement, you think it best to keep interactions with him at a minimum. It had been constantly nagging at you, the thought of being with him but not really. Are you even allowed to hold his hand in front of your friends? Won’t that be crossing the line, breaking the rules that he set when he promised that, you won’t be his and he won’t be yours?

Alyna would never, not in a hundred years, allow herself to be put in this position. Especially not by Aemond Targaryen, of all people.

Just as you start to relax, Matt materialises by your side, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the fiercest bastard in the realm,” Matt says, looking every bit as Daemon with his Targaryen blacks and silver-blonde wig, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “Looking for your next conquest?”

“Careful, Matthew,” you shoot back, smirking. “Alyna’s got a list, and you’re edging pretty close to the top.”

“Good to know I’m on your mind, and as a top priority, nonetheless,” he teases, nudging you playfully. “But let’s be real, you’d miss me too much.”

You laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “Miss your terrible jokes, maybe.”

“You love my humour,” he insists. “I’m just saying, when you get tired of shooting arrows and swinging swords, let me know. I would like to take you out into the real world.”

You raise an eyebrow, cheeks heating up. He caught you off guard, so thank the gods for the sheer boldness that Alyna wears like skin, rubbing off on you as you stand in her shoes. “Is Daemon asking Alyna on a date, Smithy?”

“Depends,” he quips, a sly grin on his face. “Is it working?”

Before you can respond, Tom saunters over, clearly not one to miss out on the fun. “What’s this I hear? Matt finally working up the nerve to ask his on-screen sidekick out? Either I’m going mad or my five espresso shots are working.”

“Watch it, you,” you warn him playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Alyna’s still got some arrows left. And I’m not his sidekick.”

Tom smirks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re all talk.”

“Want to test that theory?” you challenge, raising an imaginary bow. Matt lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest as if struck.

“See? Deadly,” Matt says, winking at you. “So, what do you say? Coffee, next week? Somewhere far from dragons and politicking?”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “You know, that doesn’t sound half bad. As long as you promise not to reenact your last attempt at flirting.”

“Ouch,” Matt laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll do my best.”

As the photographer calls for everyone to take their places, you catch a glimpse of Ewan watching from a distance, his jaw clenched. The amusement in Matt’s eyes tells you he’s noticed too.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” you whisper to Matt as you walk toward the set.

He grins, lowering his voice. “I wasn’t called the Rogue Prince for no reason. Besides, I am the blood of the dragon.”

“Sure you are,” you reply, but you are unable to ignore the thrill of Ewan’s intense focus. 

The set buzzes with activity, cast members instructed to maintain their character’s demeanour for the photographs. The Greens go first, with their designated groupings, with Ewan and Gayle sharing a close-up shot. From where you stand behind the cameras, you can feel Ewan’s gaze locked on you, his presence heavy and distracting. After a while, you feel the need to step away, walking further to the side. 

He remains silent, his focus clearly split between you and Matt, who keeps up a steady stream of clever remarks that make you laugh. Each one seems to darken Ewan’s mood further. The tension becomes so palpable that the director finally calls out, “Ewan, can we get your attention over here, please? You’re off your mark.”

Liv and Phia, still awaiting their cues, scurry over to where you stand. Liv leans in with a knowing smirk on her face, whispering in your ear. “Trouble in paradise?” Of course they’ve noticed Ewan’s odd behaviour. 

“More like purgatory,” Phia quips, scrunching her nose.

“Something like that,” you murmur, eyes flicking over to Ewan, who’s now talking with Gayle and the director, looking over the shots taken, though his attention doesn’t stray far from you.

“Well, if you need an escape route, just say the word,” Liv offers, her voice full of concern.

“Do you want me to stare back at Ewan?” Matt cheekily offers, making you punch him on the shoulder. He only laughs openly, the sound free and uninhibited and just Matt. 

“Thanks, guys,” you say, grateful for their friendship. But you know there’s no easy way out of this tangled mess. Not with the way Ewan is watching you and Matt like he’s one step away from bringing The Battle Above The Gods Eye to fruition.

Not long after, it’s time for the Blacks to step onto the set. As you move into position, you can feel Ewan’s gaze practically searing into your back. You fight the urge to laugh. Or grimace. Or shoot him a questioning look. The idea of Ewan in his full Aemond costume brooding over you is something indeed. The fangirl in you would have been sent reeling, if only he wasn’t so fucking infuriating. 

You spot Liv, Tom, and Phia swooping in like a rescue squad with a mission to derail Ewan’s brooding. Phia, ever the animated theater kid, practically throws herself in front of Ewan, waving her hands like she’s recounting the world’s most thrilling tale.

“Ewan, did you catch that last shot of Helaena? Absolute perfection,” she says, grinning.

Tom saunters up, “Care to explain why you are standing here lurking like some stalker? You’re scaring the crew, mate.”

Phia gently nudges Ewan away from your line of sight. “Come on, Ewan. Let’s go for a smoke, it’s stuffy in here.”

Ewan’s clearly torn, but he’s powerless against his friends’ instigation. You bite back a laugh as you see him getting pulled in every direction. Your makeshift rescue team really needs to get their act together, but you love them anyway. The camera snaps away, and you focus on your poses. Knowing that Phia and the gang are running interference, you’re free to enjoy the moment and be Alyna as the photoshoot demands. You can save the enjoyment from watching him squirm later. 

The photoshoot wraps up in the evening and everyone begins to gather their things, preparing to leave. Cast members chat, stretch, and discuss plans for the week.

“So, coffee next week?” Matt asks again, this time with a bit more seriousness.

“Yeah,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll see what I have scheduled then I’ll give you a call.”

“Great. I’ll even let you pick the place. Well, I’ll be off, love, I’m meeting my sister.” he says. Then, as if sensing something, he leans in closer. “But I’d better give you something to remember me by.”

Before you can react, Matt pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you warmly. The embrace lingers just a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he plants a soft, teasing kiss on your cheek. You catch the mischievous glint in his eyes. What is he up to?

As Matt releases you and heads out of the studio, you spot Ewan coming toward you, his presence all too familiar. He doesn’t say anything at first, and just stands there, his silence more charged than anything he could have spoken. His expression is stoic, but with the way his lips are pursed and his nostrils are flared, you would say that he’s bothered. He’s jealous.

“You seemed to be having fun,” he finally says, his tone casual, though the tension is unmistakable.

“Mmm, maybe I was,” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “Is there a problem?”

Ewan’s eyes narrow slightly, but he shakes his head. “Not at all. Just… nevermind. I’m sure you know, we’ve been booked for a magazine feature coming up in a few days.”

You freeze. “Yeah, I heard. What about it?”

“I’m just making sure that you’re okay with it, darling.”

“It’s work, Ewan,” you reply tersely. “We’ll deal with it.”

The tension breaks when Fabien swoops in, his flawless smile in place. “So, you’re stealing Matt away from me now?” he teases, and there’s an edge to his question. He’s still on the fence about you and Ewan, as he feels protective of his friend. But he’s aware that there’s no simple right or wrong here. You both hurt each other; that much is clear. 

“Maybe,” you quip back, shrugging with feigned innocence. “He seems to like my company.”

Fabien laughs, though there’s a hint of something serious beneath it. “I’ll allow it – this time. But don’t forget, I’ve got dibs on him for the next round of drinks.”

As Fabien’s laughter fades, Ewan’s voice cuts through the lightheartedness. “I don’t think she needs your protection, Fabien.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “I don’t need looking after, Ewan.”

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice dropping to something darker. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop.”

There’s a challenge in his words, one that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, even as you know it’s a dangerous game you’re all playing. The fire between you smoulders, waiting for the next spark to ignite it. Is Matt that spark? No, you realise, both your actions will be enough to bring everything crashing down.

For now, you step away, leaving Ewan to stew in his misguided jealousy. 

“See you around, Fabs,” you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you for our shoot, yeah?” you tell Ewan, making it clear that you’re not up for another dalliance in between. 

He gets the hint, nodding tersely. But he doesn’t just let you go, not without making his mark, the thing he ached so badly to do in front of Matt, but couldn’t. 

He briefly casts a glance around the room to make sure no one else is hovering, then presses a soft against your lips, leaving you no time to protest. 

You’re exhausted. You’re frustrated. You shouldn’t give in to this, but you do. He feels right; he feels like home. 

If home is a Motel 6 along the highway, ready to kick you out at a moment’s notice. Isn’t that just a knife in the gut?

You pull away after a second, and he smiles, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek.

Fabien shakes his head, a feeling of warmth rising within him at the sight of his two friends who clearly belong together. If only they would get their heads out of their asses.

You seem to remember his presence, pushing away from Ewan’s hold.

Fabien can only roll his eyes. 

Only two days later, and you’re back to work once more. The British Vogue photoshoot has its focus on high fashion, set against the backdrop of an American West-inspired ranch. It doesn’t dwell on you and Ewan as celebrity figures, which is why you agreed to the shoot in the first place. 

Walking onto set, you’re struck with awe at the dramatic tableau of worn wooden fences, hay bales, and lasso props. But your amazement reaches its absolute peak when Ewan emerges, in full cowboy attire. 

Fuck. You bite your lip, and you can almost hear your heart pounding. Unbeknownst to you, the crew notices your flustered state, but they think it’s just you admiring your boyfriend as expected. 

He meets your eyes from across the room, then saunters over to you, that characteristic smirk set on his lips. Your breath catches in your throat, when he tips his hat and greets, “Howdy, darling.”

“Why, hello, good sir,” you try to match his tone, giving a playful curtsy. 

“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, and you’re sure if he’s referring to the photoshoot or the possibility that the two of you might have to play at being a couple as these people expect. You opt to believe the former. 

As the shoot progresses, the tension between you and Ewan becomes almost unbearable. You’re clad in an elaborate, haute couture cowgirl outfit. A sculptural corset made of brown leather, with a tailored vest on top. A floor-length skirt with a high slit reaching your upper thigh, dyed to a rich gradient of burnt sienna. Knee-high heeled boots. A leather choker with a central silver pendant rests on your neck, dangling provocatively. 

For the first set of shots, both of you casually lean against the fence. Ewan poses beside you, watching you with an intensity that is both electrifying and maddening. His gaze is hungry, almost predatory, and you almost forget about the elaborate set around you. Thankfully, each blinding flash of the camera pulls you back into the real world. Keeping you from riding a cowboy right down on the hay bales. How does the saying go? Save a horse…

The photographer snaps you out of it, as he shouts a direction for you to pose solo with a lasso draped over your shoulder. Ewan steps out of the frame, leaning against a wooden post, his eyes locked on you as if he’s trying to memorise every detail of this look. 

“Alright, let’s try a more dramatic pose,” the photographer instructs. “Maybe something with a bit more attitude.”

You adjust your stance, twisting slightly to emphasise the curve of your waist. As you do, you momentarily meet Ewan’s gaze. His eyes are dark with something like desire, and his lips are set in a grim line. 

“I can’t even articulate what you’re doing to me, darling,” Ewan murmurs in your ear, when the photographer calls for a 5-minute break. Set assistants run onto the scene, adding and rearranging props for the next round of shots.

You smirk, “Speak for yourself, Mitchell.”

“Mmm,” he hums, satisfied. 

The next shot calls for Ewan to stand behind you, his arms wrapped around your figure, the position as intimate as can be. Each click of the camera seems to heighten the tension.

His breath is warm against your neck, the sheer proximity electrifying, causing your entire body to heat up underneath the layers of leather and cotton. His heartbeat matches yours, quick and erratic. His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible over the camera clicks. “You’re making this incredibly difficult, you know.”

You tilt your head slightly, “Difficult how, exactly?”

“Keeping my hands off you is the hardest part of my day,” he replies, his voice husky with restrained desire. “It’s like you’re daring me to break every rule we’ve set.”

That you’ve set, you want to correct him, but you bite your tongue. A bitter chuckle escapes you, the sound a mix of frustration and amusement. “So what if I am,” you tease, bending back slightly into his embrace, feeling his body heat against yours. He welcomes your closeness, leaning into you. 

For the next few minutes, it’s a game of seduction and denial, every movement aimed at tormenting the other. The crew, blissfully unaware of the full extent of the tension, is generally pleased about the atmosphere of the shoot. In their minds, you and Ewan are simply leaning into your real-life chemistry and romance.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Little do they know.

In the brightly lit break room, the hum of distant chatter from the set fills the silence between you and Ewan. He’s seated across from you, his gaze unyielding as you check your phone.

His voice breaks the quiet, his tone deceptively casual but laced with curiosity. “Doing anything tomorrow?”

You look up, meeting his eyes, before tentatively answering. “Actually, yes.”

His brows lift, his curiosity piqued. “Care to elaborate, darling?”

You shift in your seat, trying to mask the tension in your voice. “I’m supposed to grab coffee with Matt.”

“Matt.” Ewan’s voice is low as he repeats the familiar name. “Just the two of you?”

“Yes.”

There’s a pause, his expression morphing from curiosity to something more intense. “Is it… is it a date?”

“I think that was implied,” you reply, your tone deliberately nonchalant as you try to maintain control of the conversation.

“Really.” His voice tightens, his response loaded with a mix of disbelief and frustration.

You notice the obvious shift in his demeanour, the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. “Why the long face?”

Ewan’s hands ball into fists on the table, his composure breaking. “Fuck, I—”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, your own frustration simmering. “Forget it. Don’t answer that.”

“No, just…” His voice falters, his emotions raw. “I don’t want you to go.”

You blink, taken aback by his admission. “Are you being serious right now, Mitchell?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Ewan’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of hurt and possessiveness. A concoction borne out of circumstances of his own making. Or had it been you, last September? You can no longer keep track of whose fault reigns over everything. The truth of the matter is, you love him. Of course you do.

But nothing feels right anymore. 

“I don’t know,” you retort, your voice rising slightly, “I hope you are. Because you can’t just say that to me.”

“But I am.” His tone is resigned but unwavering. “I don’t want to watch you with someone else.”

The words hit you like a cold splash of water, freezing you in place. “Then I’m ignoring what you just said. This isn’t fair to me.”

His face falls. “You can’t just ignore it. It’s not that simple.”

You stand up abruptly, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Well, I don’t see how this conversation is going to help anything.”

He stands as well, his expression pained and conflicted. “I just – damn it. Wait a minute, darling – ”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Look, if you’re going to act like this, then maybe we need to rethink – ”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice desperate. “I don’t want to rethink anything. I just… I need you to understand that this isn’t easy for me.”

The room falls silent, both of you breathing heavily. The unresolved problem lingers, the weight of it all hanging heavily between you. 

You take a final look at him, feeling a mixture of anger and longing. “I’m gonna go get some air.”

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk out of the break room, the doors closing sharply behind you. Ewan is left alone, frustration clear on his face as he stares at the empty space where you once stood.

Ewan is sprawled on his couch, a half-empty bottle of beer resting on the coffee table. The warm light of a lamp casts a muted glow over his apartment, which is littered with the remnants of his evening alone. He has seen the latest headlines about you and Matt, enjoying a date in Hyde Park.

Hyde Park Outing: Is it Love in the Air for these HBO Actors?

He tries to ignore them all, but the nagging bitterness won’t let him be. The images and headlines keep flashing in his mind. Unable to shake the frustration, he sends a quick message to Tom and Phia, inviting them over for a casual distraction.

A short while later, they arrive, carrying a six-pack and a box of takeout. Ewan greets them with a tired smile, which barely masks his despondence.

“Evening,” he says, opening the door wider to let them in. “Glad you could make it.”

Phia gives him a sympathetic look as she steps inside, setting down the food. “We came prepared. Looks like you could use a break.”

Tom follows, his eyes scanning the cluttered room. “And some beers. We figured you might need them.”

Ewan leads them to the living room, where they settle onto the couch. As they crack open the beers and start munching away, the initial wariness fades, replaced by casual conversation. His two guests are careful not to broach the topic of you, but they know it’s inevitable. Soon enough, it will be time to get down to business, which is essentially what they came for. They’re the rescue squad after all. 

“So… we have a feeling we know what’s been eating at you,” Tom says, taking a swig of his beer. “We saw the headlines, mate. Don’t even deny it. It’s gotta be rough.”

Ewan grimaces, his hand gripping the bottle a little tighter. “Yeah, the headlines. they’re , uhhhh … oh, what does it even matter?”

Phia raises an eyebrow, glancing at him. “Come on, kid. It matters. You can talk to us. We weren’t cast as siblings for no reason.”

Ewan lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “We have this thing, this casual thing. But seeing her with someone else... it’s like a punch to the gut.”

Tom nods sympathetically. “I get it. I’m sure it was fun at first, but – ” 

Phia’s concern wins over her, leading her to interject, “Ewan, maybe you need to bloody talk to her. Figure out where you both stand.”

Ewan shakes his head, though his expression softens, and his unmistakable vulnerability shines through. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to see where that leads.”

Phia reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Ask her why she ended things last year.”

“I know why – ”

“Just… ask her again? You might find out more than you expect.”

Tom waits a beat before butting in with a light-hearted chuckle, “It’s better than letting it fester. At least you’ll know where you stand. You owe her that much.”

Ewan huffs out a laugh, the bitterness in his voice giving way to reluctant amusement. “Maybe. I just don’t want to make things worse.”

“Mate,” Tom shakes his shoulder, “look at the state of things. How in the bloody hell can you make it even worse? I don’t think it’s possible.”

Phia just smirks at his boldness, but she agrees, nodding to Ewan, “He’s right, you know.”

Tom raises his beer in a mock toast. “To Aemond and Alyna.”

“Oh, you absolute rascal,” Phia laughs in disbelief. 

But they all clink their bottles together, the gesture a small comfort amidst the confusion. The evening winds down after an hour, and after they depart, Ewan’s mind is still consumed with thought.

Day or night, you will answer Ewan’s call.

“Hello?” your voice patches through after a few rings.

“Darling,” he says, “I think we need to talk.”

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I did have Matt and the reader's date written out, but I thought it seemed superfluous for this one. Maybe in a bonus chapter?

In the next one: 'THE talk', Ewan dealing with stuff for his film, whippets, interviews, MORE headlines... will they finally resolve everything?

Also, if yous want, I can give a glimpse on what would have happened if Matt got the BV shoot instead :)

The end isn't even within reach. More angst to follow. How can there be more, you ask? Let's hash it out below 😉💙

[sushis-wild-imagination]

Seventeen when they realise they’re in love with you

Seventeen Masterlist

Im open to fic requests!

Genre: Fluff!

→ Choi Seungcheol

“She doesn’t bite, I promise” Cheol reassures.

Cheol brings his dog over to meet you. You were terrified of dogs, but you tried for him.

Cheol somehow got you to touch kkumas head and also feed her some chopped carrots. Kkuma really liked you and wanted to play with you. She kept jumping to your lap, but you tried your best not to make sudden movements or shriek and scare the poor dog.

You thought dogs were cute, but only from afar.

You trying to overcome this fear and interact with someone so precious to him, really made him seoon over you. He definitely fell for you that day.

→Yoon Jeonghan

He had called you over while he babysat one of his nieces. You’ve always liked kids so it was no big deal. But the only big deal was meeting his family. You’ve been together now for a month and meeting family was a huge deal.

His niece at first felt a little awkward and standoffish but soon warmed up to you when you presented her with some candy you picked up for her.

Jeonghan loved the fact that you got along with his family. He also starting feeling love for you that day that only deepened there after.

→ Hong Jisoo

“Tell me what you want from me Joshua?” You yell at him, tears pooling your eyes.

What did he want? He wasn’t ready to be in a relationship, but seeing you talk to that guy from uni also did something to him. Lately he felt as if he was running away from something, he finally figured out what it was. As you stood there, tears falling out of your eyes. He loved you, it hit him like a bag of bricks when he saw you threaten leaving the apartment without resolving whatever this was. He was scared to admit to himself, but now he had to say it out loud. For him to hear, for you, to hear.

He knew if he let you walk out that door, you’ll be gone forever.

“I’m in love with you”

→ Moon Jun hui

Jun had the worst day at work today, everything that could go wrong, went wrong: the paper machine had no paper, his sandwich for lunch became soggy, it started to rain when he went out to get some lunch instead, his important presentation fell through. Nothing was right.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, as you both take a walk. Seeing him stressed, you suggested a walk outside to get some fresh air.

He doesn’t respond to the question, so you just take his hand in both of yours, softly caressing it with your thumb as you both walk, you hoped that was enough.

He turned to look at you and your eyes met. Jun always thought it was superficial when people said ‘all my worries fade away when I’m with you’ but he finally understood exactly what that was like. All his cynicism disappeared because it worked. One look at you and he was smiling.

Regardless of what happens in the day, you were someone that melt his problems. He realised this is what love is.

→Kwon Soonyoung

“I’m going to make this work” you say frustrated, almost pulling your hair out.

Soonyoung was in your studio helping you figure out some beats for your new song and it was going to hell. Every tune you came up with sounded so eeriely similar to something you’ve already heard before. You’d rather jump off a cliff than accidentally put yourself through accusations of plagiarism.

Another groan while you play around with the keys. This went on all night where to a point soonyoung fell asleep on the couch behind you but you were still making the song.

“I did it!”

This woke him up and you looked so happy and accomplished that you had finally cracked it. You let him have a listen to see if it sounds familiar somehow, but it didn’t.

Soonyoung had heard many friends say that people look the most attractive when they’re working and they were right.

Your happiness was contagious and he was absolutely adoring you.

He fell in love with your happiness immediately.

→ Jeon Wonwoo

Like every time, this time too, wonwoo left for home after spending the whole weekend at yours. He lived two towns away so it was an hour of a drive to see each other. You made it all worth it.

This time, while leaving it didn’t feel like usual. His chest felt a lot heavier when he thought about not seeing you for another week.

This time, his throat closed up every time he wanted to say goodbye. Perhaps he had finally gotten used to saying goodbye until a new feeling came in and knocked the air out of his lungs and glued his feet to your apartment.

“I think I love you”

→ Lee Jihoon

You were snoring in the living room on your architecture table as he helped you into bed.

You’ve been working on this project for days, staying up all night. Jihoon is someone that works really hard and also holds a lot of respect for people who are passionate about their contribution to the world. He looks up to people who are diligent and dedicated.

That night, he had a lot of respect for you but also a lot of adoration. He was falling in love with your sincerity, slowly and surely.

→Seo Myungho

“I hope we get to see sea turtles later” you say to Hao.

Hao has always been attracted to empathy. When he suggested that you should go on a date to the beach with a clean up drive, he didnt expect you to say yes as fast as you did.

He has always found this empathy in you for nature, and preserving nature, very attractive. The fact that this was your common ground only deepened your relationship further.

He was head over heels for you when you agreed to pick garbage with him at the beach.

→Kim Mingyu

Kim Mingyu took you to the arcade for your 6th date, yes, you were counting, because he felt like a dream, you really saw this going somewhere.

The arcade was one of the cutest date things to do on paper, but you never got to actually experience it. You ended up trying all the machines there were. But the dance machine is something you were waiting for.

You had your concentration face on and you were really to destroy this machine. Mingyu was always carefree and very giggly type. His giggles made you giggle too.

You ended up challenging him to a dance off and went at it for a good 3 minutes. But all you could see was Mingyu half way through stopping and chuckling at your face. You raise an eyebrow.

“You’re so easy to love”

→Lee Seokmin

Dokyeom falls in love with the littlest of things, they then add on to become a huge pile of love and an overwhelming sense of adoration and affection.

You and him were walking in the city on a road that goes uphill. You had spotted an old lady with her hands full of 2 huge bags, barely able to climb uphill. You immediately rush to her and offer help. Dokyeom was puzzled to see you run, until he realised what you were doing. He had a big smile plastered on his face while he comes over to help as well.

Dokyeom enjoyed helping people, he drew joy from it and so did you. This instance was another drop in the ocean for him to fall more and more in love with you.

→Boo Seungkwan

Boo Seungkwan was an athlete by heart. He absolutely loves breaking a sweat playing all the sport he can.

Him and you started dating a couple of weeks ago and promised each other you’d have a go at his favourite sport badminton, which he boasted he was good at. You were an average badminton player, you enjoyed squash more.

The match started off slow, you were both testing waters. The match slowly gog to a point where it was just sounds of the racket hitting the shuttle, no giggles, no teasing. Neither of you like to lose.

You finally hit a smash that he could not reach. He was awestruck. Usually, he hates losing, but this time, he lost focus, all his focus was on how amazing the match was and how amazing you were.

Now if thats you or your badminton playing skills that he fell in love with is something you are yet to figure out.

→Choi Vernon

Usually Vernon is quite non chalant,doing his own thing, minding his own business. You and him have been speaking to each other for a month now.

And everything feels different to him. Every time Vernon sees something very interesting immediately thinks of you and to bring you to show it to you, all his thoughts about the future have you in it. He’s thinking about you all the time.

He was walking by a bakery and he thought about who this one time you told him you hated the smell of bread.

His brain was a 90% you and thats when it clicked. He was in love.

→Lee Chan

Your boyfriend had called you saying he didn’t feel very well and cancelled your date. You ended up going to his apartment instead.

You tended to him, he was running a fever and even made him some soup to feel better and stayed with him if he needs anything. As a boy, he had moved away from home early and never really had someone that cared for him like this.

This was the first time in years he felt cared for and he was so grateful to you, that feeling of gratefulness soon turned into feelings of love before the fever broke.

——

Tried a different style, hope y’all like it!j I’m open to fic requests!

[d1xonss]

heyyy went thru all your masterlist (reader one) and fell inlove with your fics i was wondering if you can write something like grumpy!daryl x sunshine!reader ykwim? like they complete eachother (::

Sunshine

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 10

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 2.1k

AN ~ Ahhh thank you so much for reading, it truly means so much! I’m always down to write this type of stuff, I think it’s so cute:)) I appreciate the request and hope you enjoy! ps- I thought this was a super cute thing to post for Valentine's Day💋

It was quiet, peaceful inside your home as you busied yourself around the space. It was a nice hot summer day, and you felt quite accomplished with the amount of things you had gotten done in just the span of a few hours. You tended to your garden full of colorful flowers, made a trip to the pantry to pick up a few things you were running low on, cleaned and tidied up the house, the list really went on and on. But the truth was you loved doing things like this, it almost tricked you into believing that life outside the gates was normal again. Even though you knew it wasn’t, it was still nice to pretend from time to time.

Currently, you busied yourself with making some of your famous homemade brownies, something you found you hadn’t made in quite some time. With everything going on lately, it was hard to find the time to do the things you loved most, which was in fact, to bake. But now that everything had died down for the most part, you quickly hopped back onto the opportunity. Whether it was cake, cookies, or some kind of bread, you always found life to be a little bit better with something sweet.

But you weren’t just making these brownies for yourself, in fact, whenever you whipped something up it was never just for you. It was also for your husband Daryl whom you adored more than anything else in this world, the man constantly making you happier with each passing day. And he loved you just as much if not more, and he especially loved being your taste tester whenever you tried out a new recipe. The first time you had called him that, he just scoffed and shook his head as if what you said was something stupid. But you could see that small smirk he had on his face afterwards, silently telling you that he actually loved the little job you assigned, though he would never admit it out loud.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you began to mix the dry and wet ingredients together, swaying your hips a little to the soft song playing in the background. Recently you had found a record player on a run and you were over the moon excited to use it, missing music from the world before. And although you hadn’t found the best records in the world to listen to, you thought almost anything was better than the quiet. The most you had found were a few country albums which weren't in your top favorite genres for sure, but you had to admit it was growing on you the smallest bit. With the way you danced along, it was hard to deny.

Your head then suddenly snapped up when you heard the sound of the front door opening, a smile being brought to your face as you already knew who it was. He was a little loud upon entering your shared house, dropping his crossbow on the table with a loud smack, huffing and puffing as he entered the living room without a word. Your smile dropped a little, usually he would call out to you to announce that he was home, but clearly today was not one of those days. He was in a mood, and you knew you would have to cheer him up.

Although Daryl was perfect to you in every way, he was a pretty grumpy man from time to time when things didn’t work out or go the way he planned. The littlest things could completely ruin his demeanor for the rest of the day at times. He would hold onto it, rant about it constantly while it was on his mind, even though most of the time it was something that he couldn’t change. But you assumed that’s what frustrated him the most. And this was no different, hearing him sigh heavily in the other room as he plopped down on the sofa. 

But the best thing about you, was that at the end of the day, you always found a way to make him feel better.

You discarded the mixing spoon that was in your hand, moving out of the kitchen and towards the living room in an attempt to see what was bothering him. But once you caught sight of him whilst lingering in the doorway of the space, you sighed quietly upon seeing how he held his face in his hands, slumped over the side of the couch. You could tell he was irritated and that something had happened today while he was out, but it was nothing that you couldn’t fix. And you figured the brownies would help too.

So you finally pushed yourself forward to enter the room, softly sitting down next to him as you raised your hand up to squeeze his shoulder lightly. “Hi sweetie.” you greeted softly.

But he didn’t respond. He didn’t even raise his head up to look you in the eye. The most he did was grunt, and even you didn’t know in that moment if it was directed towards you or not.

You eyed him for a moment before speaking again, “How was your day?” you asked gently while rubbing his shoulder up and down now.

Still nothing. Damn he was a tough one to crack today. But you knew he couldn’t resist you for very long, even if today was the worst day of his life, he always came around for you. Always.

Upon not getting a verbal response, you leaned further into him and began to trail a few quick kisses on the side of his head, to which he scoffed and scooted away from. “Come on woman, m’ not in the mood.” he grumbled as he finally looked up from the floor.

“He speaks.” you said as you raised your hands up in victory, your actions causing him to scoff with a roll of his eyes. Acting as if you were the dramatic one here. “What happened?” you asked with a tilted head.

He blew out a breath of air, “Nothin.”

“Mhm…” you trailed off sarcastically with a nod, “Nothing…”

He was silent for a long moment, nearly minutes passing by, before he blew another harsh breath out as he leaned back against the couch. “We lost all those damn supplies on that run we took today, walkers just came outta nowhere and we didn’t have time to stick around. Negan’s getting on my fuckin nerves all the damn time, spittin out the same bullshit I’ve heard a hundred fuckin times before. And my bike broke down on the way back, don’t even know if I can fix it.”

If someone was looking at this from an outside perspective, seeing the amount he just unleashed while you sat there with a small smile on your face, their jaw would probably be on the floor. How you hardly reacted at all, how he was so harsh with the way he spoke, you were sure it would look questionable to anyone who didn’t truly know the two of you, or your dynamic. But the truth was, you had heard this similar song and dance about a hundred different times before, knowing he just needed to get everything off his chest and blow off some steam. And you knew after saying it all out loud, along with a little comfort, he would see that everything would be alright in the end.

Your lip stuck out in a pout as you looked at him, “Oh, my poor baby.” you said dramatically as you pulled him back into you, placing your lips on his cheek to kiss him there multiple times as he let out a heavy and annoyed sigh.

“Stop.” he protested, yet made no attempts to pull away from your affection. In fact, you swore you almost felt him lean in further.

You giggled against his skin as you pulled away far enough to look him in the eye, “I’m sorry you had a rough day.” you spoke seriously now as you stroked the side of his face, “But it’ll be okay…everything will work itself out.”

He scoffed quietly at your words, “Ya always say that.”

“And I’m always right.” you said as you leaned in to place another kiss on his cheek, “Remember when you came back from a hunt that one time with nothing, and you were all grumpy about it? What happened the next day?”

He glanced over to you for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh, “Found three deers…” he grumbled.

“Right.” you said as you moved to give his arm a soft squeeze, “You worry way too much over this kind of stuff, just breathe. Relax. It’s all going to be fine.”

His expression softened drastically after you talked to him, kind and gentle as always, wordlessly leaning into you and wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tight. You laughed lightly as you hugged him back, stroking the back of his hair soothingly as you felt him exhale deeply. Taking a breath like you advised.

“M’ sorry.” he muttered suddenly after a few moments of silence.

Your brows furrowed a little in confusion, “For what, honey?”

“For dumpin this shit on ya all the time…” he clarified as he squeezed you tighter, “Ya don’t deserve that…hearin me bitch-”

“Hey.” you cut him off as you pulled away, taking his face in your hands, “That’s what I’m here for, to listen. I’m honored to be the one you go to when you need to rant about something, and I’m even more honored that I’m the one who gets to make you feel better. That’s certainly not something to be sorry for, okay?”

His lip turned up in a small smile as he took your hands from his face, kissing your palm lightly as he looked at you with soft eyes, “I don’t deserve ya.”

You shushed him instantly with a shake of your head, “Yes you do.” you assured, before your mind trailed off a little in realization which caused a small smile to form on your face, “But…I do think I have something else that’ll make you feel better. Maybe even better than I can.”

He scoffed with a growing smile, “Well, I highly doubt that…but go on…” he said as his interest clearly piqued.

“Well…I just so happen to have some brownie batter in the kitchen with your name on it.” you said as you raised your eyebrows.

His eyes widened the smallest bit in clear excitement before glancing out the doorway, clearly itching to rush into the kitchen now, “Ya haven’t even baked em yet..?”

You shook your head with a smile, “Nope…I’ll even let you lick the spoon.” you said, knowing that was his favorite part.

His smile only grew then as there seemed to be a sparkle in his eye, like a kid in a giant candy store. The two of you then ventured back toward the kitchen where the music was still playing softly, getting the batter ready to be put into the pan to bake. But of course, he took the spoon from you almost instantly when you were done using it, licking the entire thing completely clean as if he couldn’t get enough. Though he felt he had to tease you just a little bit, taking a small dollop from the utensil on his finger before bringing it to the tip of your nose with a “boop.” 

You knew then and there that his mind was far from the events earlier that day, now enjoying his time he had with you as he looked at you as if you were a bright ball of sunshine after a rainy day. The sunshine that he desperately needed in his life.

But then the time came. The oven had beeped and you had pulled the brownies out of the oven to cool before cutting them, topping it off with some powdered sugar before your taste tester gave his honest feedback. He took a corner piece, which were his favorite, and took a large bite of the chocolate goodness while you looked at him in anticipation.

“Well..?” 

He said nothing, his eyes rolled back and a groan left his lips as he savored the sweetness on his tongue, and that was the only answer you needed. You smiled brightly as you clapped to yourself, his signs of approval proving that you were only getting better with the hobby you loved to do.

“Dunno how ya do it,” he commented before shoving the rest of the brownie in his mouth, “They just get better and better.” he said with his mouth full.

You smiled proudly as you began to grab a piece for yourself, “Well it’s a good thing I have my taste tester to give me all the feedback I need.”

Normally he would roll his eyes at the continuous nickname you bestowed upon him, but not today. He only smiled with a nod, bringing you in to leave a dramatic kiss on your cheek, pulling away with a loud “muah.”

“I’ll always be here ta taste whatever ya want sunshine.” he promised. 

And you believed him completely.

~ Thanks for reading!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You wait. And wait. And wait. 

Each day, each week, your hope dwindles. Barrett doesn’t change. He’s not going to change. You know for sure as you watch him storm out. 

That’s why you didn’t talk to him sooner. It always ends like this. He gets defensive, you get emotional, and it all erupts. If he would just listen! 

You sigh and hold your chin in your hand. You look around at your small apartment. Even when you’ve just cleaned, it feels cluttered. You hate this place. You feel trapped. Or maybe that’s your relationship. Probably, both. 

You don’t think it was that bad to ask for a bit of understanding. All you want is for him to communicate. Instead, he sits on all his gripes until the bubble over in another rant about the squeaky bathroom faucet or the way you fold his shirts. It’s always on you. You’re the one who has to make him happy. Never the other way around. 

This time, it wasn’t the dishes or the mopping or the recycling. Nope. You’re not attentive enough. You’re depriving him. You’re punishing him by not having sex with him after working overtime four nights out of five. It can’t be that you’re tired or hurt. No, it’s an attack on him. 

That’s where it all fell apart.

You tried. Once you got past the frustration and tried to just let the waters calm. When you started talking to him again and fell back into your routine. You were both too busy to keep the fight going. And a few nights, you let him initiate but something would keep you from going all the way. 

Something... 

You saw Wendy last week. She didn’t mention anything about the night you went out. Didn’t mention a guy. She said she had fun and you should do it again. You told her you can’t afford it. Besides, you’re too tired. She called you boring. She’s not wrong. 

You get up and distract yourself. Well, it’s not really for you, is it? You’ll clean everything from corner to corner so he has nothing to complain about. You don’t need him to nitpick another reason to hound you. 

So much for time off. Once more you’re spending it in misery. You finish vacuuming then spray the couch with some freshener. Feeling accomplished but not less addled, you go to the bedroom and pull out some clothes for tomorrow. You’ll go to bed early and get a head start. If you’re lucky, you’ll be asleep before he drags his sorry ass home. 

You yawn as you stare at the time. It’s barely five o’clock and you could keel over. These days, you’re beat to the bone. You can’t remember the last time when you didn’t feel like a sack of dirt. You put your work clothes on the dresser then grab a fresh towel for the shower. 

You wash up, soothed by the warm water, and emerge in a hazy cloud. You go through the motions of applying the discount bin toner and moisturizer. You feel a little fresher. 

You tuck into bed and scroll on your phone for a while. Six-thirty. You black the screen and close your eyes. It takes as much to put you to sleep. 

You dream about flashing lights and the clink of glass. You’re swaying to a drone of music, spinning and swirling. The place is painted in streaks of colours as you keep moving. And when you manage to stop, the room turns on an axis, keeping you dizzy. 

Arms wrap around you from behind and pull you back into a thick body. You can’t escape. You look down and know those aren’t your husband’s hands. Where are you? Who is holding onto you? 

You try to turn around but it’s impossible. You’re stuck in the strange embrace as the neon lights melt and the air pulses with shadows. You push on the arms around you and wriggle desperately.

“Let me go,” you beg, “let me go.” 

Your words rise to a shriek and you wake up with a start. There’s a figure in the room watching you, as if waiting for you to wake up. You almost scream for real as Barrett stares at you. He doesn’t ask if you’re okay before he turns away. 

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” he grumbles. 

You don’t argue as you catch your breath and lower yourself back to the pillows. You can smell the tinge of beer left behind. He’s been drinking. You can’t begrudge him that, not really. Last time it got bad, you did the same thing. At least he came home. 

You cringe. No. Stop. Nothing happened. No one can prove it happened. Not even you. So, it didn’t. 

Your stomach mulches and you turn onto your side. The nausea roils in your stomach. You must be hungry. You didn’t eat. Yet the thought of doing so makes you even sicker. You burp and swallow down the mouthful of acid that sears your throat. 

Stress. It’s stress. And it’s not going to get any better. Not with everything you’re running away from. 

[midastouch013]

Seasick

I'm sorry, I just had to use this gif, but it has nothing to do with the fic, I swear.

Based on this request

Summary: You're on a cruise with your girlfriend, and so why do you snap at her?

Warnings: None, unless you count throwing up.

P.S This one's short, I'm sorry, I've been kinda stuck on my writing

----

The cruise had been your idea—a chance for Natasha to unwind, away from the constant demands of being an Avenger. You knew how much she loved the sea, the gentle rocking of the waves, the endless expanse of blue stretching out as far as the eye could see. So, you planned this getaway, a luxury cruise away from the bustling city.

As the ship set sail, Natasha wasted no time in making the most of the luxurious accommodations. You found her stretched out on the private deck of your cabin, soaking up the sun in a black bikini that left little to the imagination. Her red hair was fanned out around her, and she wore sunglasses to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight.

You, on the other hand, opted for comfort over style, dressed in an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt on a black tee and cargo shorts, a beer in hand as you admired the view (both of them).

"Enjoying yourself, Nat?" you asked, taking a sip of your beer.

Natasha cracked one eye open, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. "More than I can say, Y/n. This was a brilliant idea."

You settled into the deck chair beside her, reaching out to brush your fingers along her bare arm. "Just wanted to spoil my favorite Avenger a little."

Natasha chuckled, shifting to make room for you on the lounge chair. "Well, mission accomplished."

You hummed, giving her a forehead a peck followed by her lips

"I'm glad"

---

As the day wore on, you suggested exploring the ship and trying out some of the activities it had to offer. Natasha agreed enthusiastically, and soon you found yourselves participating in a salsa dancing class on the upper deck , against your many protests which had been override by a simple plead from the redhead.

However, Natasha couldn't help but notice that you kept disappearing at odd intervals. She watched you slip away multiple times, always with a mysterious expression on your face. Concern started to gnaw at her when you came back every time just a minute level paler, but she pushed it aside, not wanting to ruin the mood.

After the third time you disappeared, Natasha finally approached you, a slight frown marring her features. "Y/n, you keep disappearing. Is everything okay?"

You turned to face her, your expression neutral. "Yeah, everything's fine, babe. Just needed to take care of something."

Natasha's brow furrowed with worry. "Are you sure? You've been disappearing all day."

You felt a surge of frustration, your patience wearing thin. "I said I'm fine, Nat. Can you please just drop it?"

Natasha's concern turned to hurt as she recoiled slightly. "I'm just worried about you, Y/n. You've been acting strange all day."

You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer. "Well, maybe if you stopped hovering over me, I wouldn't feel the need to disappear!"

Natasha's eyes widened in shock at your outburst, hurt flashing in her eyes before she quickly masked it. "Fine," she said, her voice cold. "I'll leave you alone then."

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving you standing there, regret washing over you in waves.

You stood there for a moment, your stomach churning with a mix of regret and guilt. But as you took a step to go after Natasha, a wave of nausea hit you like a ton of bricks. Clutching your stomach, you stumbled back towards your room, moving as quickly as you could.

By the time you reached the door, you were feeling light-headed and queasy. You barely made it to the bathroom before you were retching into the toilet, the taste of bile burning in your throat.

After what felt like an eternity, the nausea began to subside, leaving you feeling weak and exhausted. You groaned as you rinsed your mouth and splashed some water on your face, trying to soothe your frazzled nerves.

Feeling utterly defeated, you crawled into bed, pulling the covers up around you. You closed your eyes, hoping that when you woke up you'd fell better and apologise to your girlfriend.

--

As you lay in bed, trying to calm your queasy stomach, you felt another wave of nausea hit you. Rushing to the bathroom once again, you barely made it in time before you were retching into the toilet for what felt like the fourth time since your argument with Natasha.

You were so focused on trying to keep your stomach under control that you didn't hear the door open, or the soft footsteps approaching you. It wasn't until a gentle hand was on your back, rubbing soothing circles, that you realized you weren't alone.

Looking up, you saw Natasha kneeling beside you, her eyes filled with concern. "Babe, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

You wanted to respond, to reassure her that you were fine, but another wave of nausea hit you, and you were back to retching into the toilet.

Natasha didn't hesitate. She pulled your hair back gently, holding it out of your face as you emptied your stomach once again. Her touch was gentle, her presence a comforting anchor in the midst of your misery.

After what felt like an eternity, the nausea began to subside, leaving you feeling weak and exhausted. You leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily as you tried to regain your strength.

Natasha didn't say anything, just reached for a washcloth and wet it with cool water before gently wiping your face clean. Then she helped you to your feet, guiding you back to bed and tucking you in with a tenderness that brought tears to your eyes.

"Thank you love," you whispered, your voice hoarse from retching.

Natasha smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. "Anytime baby. I'm here for you, always."

After you had gotten back under the covers of the bed, you felt a pang of guilt as you looked at Natasha, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, near your legs, watching you with concern.

"I'm sorry, Nat," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I forgot to bring my meds for my seasickness, and I didn't want to ruin our holiday."

Natasha's expression softened, and she reached out to take your hand in hers. "You don't have to apologize. I'm just glad you're okay."

You shook your head, feeling the need to explain further. "But I wanted this to be special for you. I wanted you to have a perfect holiday, with all of the recent missions and the government being on your back. I'm sorry I messed it up"

Natasha stood up and pulled you into a gentle hug, holding you close. "Y/n, you already make every day special just by being here with me. And as for the holiday, well, I hardly ever let myself have one, but being here with you is more than I could ever ask for."

"I love you, Nat. I just want you to have a good time"

"Anywhere with you is a good time" she assured, before a smirk creeped up her face,

"And I'm sure you'll show me an excellent time tonight"

" No walking for you tomorrow, that's for sure"

----

[overnighttosunflowers]

I've been thinking a lot about that interaction between Laudna and Orym in episode 102. How it starts with Orym saying "I'm so sorry that the world is moving so fast that we couldn't take the time to help you."

There's a certainty to that framing that is very typical of Orym. Not "I'm sorry the world is moving so fast that we didn't take the time to help you." They couldn't take the time. The mission comes first, second, and third until they've seen it through. 

Now, it's hardly a revolutionary observation that Orym's worldview comes from a particular combination of military training, survivor's guilt, and calcified grief that is ultimately self-destructive. It's also not a revolutionary observation that the party has not quite realized this, or not in so many words. They tend to treat his perspective as the only one unshakeable by personal failing. Later in that conversation in 102, Laudna even tells Orym that if someone needed to "finish the job, put me down," she'd wanted it to be him, because she knows he has the ability to do what's right.

His friends think of him as the only one who isn't a powder keg waiting to go off, but it has gone off, with Orym secretly and self-destructively pledging himself to Nana Morri in order to keep his friends alive. Betraying his friends' trust in favor of the mission. And in the end it didn't accomplish anything.

I think of Orym as someone who holds multiple truths at once. First and foremost there's a soldier's truth, the grim relentlessness that's all that keeps him going sometimes. But we've seen Orym be soft, too. He's gentle. He loves his friends. It's there underneath the grim layers of suppression. We saw it more early campaign. I don't think that he was lying in 49 when he told Imogen that he wasn't worried about her just hours after conspiring with Fearne to take her out if necessary. I think he wanted so, so badly to discount that soldier POV and buy all the way into trusting Imogen. But he couldn't. And I don't know if he was able to reconcile that. I think he genuinely believed both. Liam has said that before the events of this campaign reactivated Orym's trauma, he was legitimately on a path to healing his grief. I think that a healthier Orym would have been able to set down the soldier's truth to simply trust Imogen.

But that's not where the campaign took us. At the Malleus Key in episode 51, Orym collected a locket from a dead Vanguard soldier to remind himself that the enemy are still human. And then after Bor'dor died, in episode 63, he dropped it. Locking in on that soldier's truth. Making that deal with Morri. Not letting his friends stop and rest when they need it badly. Pressuring Imogen to give in to Predathos on the moon so that they could learn more.  

There's a grim run of episodes where Orym is stuck like that, prioritizing his soldier's truth and suppressing the part of him that is his heart. Now, I'm not someone who needs to always feel warmly towards a character or agree with their choices to appreciate their depth and role in the story, and I respect what Liam was doing there. The willingness of the CR cast to have their characters make messy and unpopular choices is one of the things I appreciate most about the show, and one of the things that leads us to the richest and most meaningful moments of character arc resolution. 

But that's where I've been frustrated with Orym: by and large, resolution has not been coming. He's been driving deeper and deeper into his traumatized worldview, clinging to it and stubbornly refusing to hear challenges to it. Repeatedly shutting down arguments by mentioning his dead family. I get it, and I feel for him, and I don't know how else Liam could be playing it given the story that Orym is in and the character that he is—not least a soldier whose training tells him never to question the mission. But, god, I'm ready for the growth. Ready for the story to prod Orym in directions that change. Ideally a shift towards a healthier perspective, but even hitting such a low that the Hells can't help but recognize that Orym's rigid morality is as destructive as it is sustaining. That will make them push back on him.

Because telling Orym he's the good one reinforces his worst instincts, increases the pressure he puts on himself, makes him double down. What he needs is someone to push back. He needs that increasingly brittle sense of his own lens as morally superior and righteous to shatter. 

And I am so, so excited for it to happen—because we're starting to see it starting to crack, just a little. In episode 92, he acknowledged to Imogen that his lens is a lens and not simple objective truth, and even implied it's one he wishes he knew how to set down: 

And now, when Laudna tells him he knows best of all how to do what's right, he admits it again: not a lot of his choices have panned out.

And it's true. They haven't. And I hope he keeps on saying it.

I'm glad to have Dorian back and on a revenge quest against the gods, because Orym trusts Dorian and Dorian is not going to let him sit unchallenged in his own convictions the way the rest of the Hells have been. I'm excited to see more of Braius, who not only disagrees with Orym about the Primes, but also doesn't have the same vested interest as the rest of the party in seeing Orym as good. I hope they both push back on him. I hope it unsettles him and confuses him and breaks his worldview and soldier identity enough that when the pieces come back together, instead of scarring over a second time, they can simply finally heal.

[chrisevansonly]

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭 | 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

ʚ lando norris x female reader

ʚ nothing hurts more than hearing the person you love most in the world have nothing but hate for himself…

ʚ a bit angsty but also fluff

ʚ seeing lando today broke my heart, hearing his post sprint interview and it just made me want to do a little blurb…i think mental health in F1 is overlooked and something needs to change because anyone can see any of these drivers struggle…

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yeah it is.”

“Lando…it’s not your fault.

You stood at the foot of the hotel bed, worry in your eyes as Lando continued to go over notes from the past two days at the small desk in the corner of the room.

“Yes it is my fucking fault! I’m shit! Have you not seen anything this weekend?!”

“You’re not listening to me Lando, it isn’t your fault.”

He remained silent, the pen gripped tightly in his hand

“Yesterday was unfortunate but you know how messy these track limits are, not to mention the wind wasn’t helping the performance of the cars baby…I know you wanted to do better today, and P3 is still amazing Lan, not to mention we have tomorrow to prepare for.”

“Yeah well i’m gonna be shit again.”

“Look at me”

“No”

You sighed

“Lando look at me”

Slowly but surely his eyes met yours and the held a deep rooted sadness you wish you could just take away from him. In a few short strides you were in front of him, his face held gently in your hands

“You listen to me, you are so fucking talented and I see it everyday. The dedication and work you put into this sport shows, and I know…I know it’s been hard my love I know, but I can’t stand to see you hurt yourself with words that aren’t true, you might not believe it right now but I do, and I’ll believe it for you if I have too.”

It was hard not to get emotional over this, Lando was your everything, and to see him hurting this much, felt like a punch in the gut.

“It’s-It’s just frustrating…”

You nod, listening intently, knowing he’s got more to say

“I just feel like I keep failing the team and falling behind…and i-i’m not..i’m not..” he paused taking a breath

“Take your time baby…”

Lando looks away momentarily, collecting himself before looking back at you

“I don’t want to disappoint the team…my parents, my friends…you”

“Lan…you are the furthest thing from a disappointment and I hate that your head is telling you otherwise. You’ve accomplished so much in your career, and at home with your family and me…everyday you go out and make us all proud.”

Watching him carefully you pulled him up and brought him in for a hug, squeezing him tightly as his head rested against your collarbone.

“Things will get better, I know they will, but I need you to know that it’s not your fault, because it isn’t Lando..”

“Not my fault.”

He mumbled softly against your neck, which was enough for you, even if he didn’t believe it now, you’d make sure to help him see it, no matter how long it took.

“I love you and i’m so fucking proud of you, everyday my love.”

As Lando stayed in your embrace he pressed a kiss to your throat before pulling back, his eyes slightly bloodshot

“I love you too.”

He might not have said much the rest of the night, but as long as he knew he’d have you right beside him to help him through the long days and tough night, he knew he’d be okay.

No matter how long it took, with you, everything would be okay.

[simpforfandom231]

marry me

Heeeey guuuuuyyyys!!!! sooo i'm going through shit but i can move my legs a bit already so that's good! i didn't wanna be gone too long soo here is a small one, forgive me if there is any mistakes, my mind is not the best now but hey I have courage to write again! -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the bustling streets of Brussels welcomed the onset of evening, Reneé Rapp, the charismatic star of the Snow Hard Feelings tour, strolled hand in hand with her girlfriend, Y/N. The air was alive with the aroma of freshly baked waffles and the sounds of laughter from nearby cafes. It was one of those rare moments of tranquility amidst the whirlwind of fame.

"Isn't this city just magical?" Reneé exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement as they passed by a street performer juggling flaming batons.

Y/N smiled, her gaze drifting toward a nearby boutique. "Definitely! And look at that sweater in the window, it's so cool!"

Reneé followed Y/N's gaze, her interest piqued. "Oh, that does look amazing! Let's go check it out."

Hand in hand, they entered the boutique, the tinkling of the bell announcing their arrival. Y/N made a beeline for the sweater while Reneé browsed through the racks of clothes, occasionally pulling out a particularly outrageous item to show her girlfriend.

"This would look fabulous on you," Reneé teased, holding up a neon pink faux fur jacket.

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. "I think I'll pass on that one, thanks."

Just as Y/N was admiring the intricate design of the sweater, a sharp voice pierced through the air.

"Hey, aren't you Reneé Rapp?" a young girl exclaimed, her eyes widening in disbelief as she recognized the famous singer.

Reneé grinned, her natural charm effortlessly taking over. "Guilty as charged! What's your name?"

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, used to these impromptu fan encounters. She watched as Reneé chatted with the girl, signing an autograph and posing for a quick selfie.

Once the fan had left, Y/N sighed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Can't we just have one shopping trip without being interrupted?"

Reneé's expression softened, and she reached out to gently squeeze Y/N's hand. "I'm sorry, babe. I know it can be annoying."

Y/N managed a small smile, appreciating Reneé's understanding. "It's okay, I guess. Let's just focus on finding that sweater."

As they continued browsing, Reneé kept a watchful eye out for any more fans while trying to maintain a sense of normalcy for Y/N's sake. However, it seemed like fate had other plans.

"Reneé! Can I get a picture with you?" another voice called out, and before Reneé could respond, a group of excited fans swarmed around them, their cameras flashing incessantly.

Y/N sighed in resignation, exchanging amused glances with Reneé amidst the chaos. "Well, so much for a quiet shopping trip."

Reneé chuckled, her arm around Y/N's waist as they posed for yet another photo. "Looks like we're becoming quite the attraction here in Brussels."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of photo ops and autographs, the crowd dispersed, leaving Reneé and Y/N with a newfound appreciation for the sanctuary of the boutique.

"Okay, let's make a deal," Reneé said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "If we manage to get through the rest of our shopping without any more interruptions, the sweater is all yours."

Y/N grinned, feeling a surge of determination. "You're on!"

With renewed determination, they dove back into their shopping spree, their laughter echoing through the boutique as they picked out outfits for each other and shared playful banter.

After what felt like hours of blissful uninterrupted shopping, they finally emerged from the boutique, Y/N proudly sporting her new sweater.

"Mission accomplished!" Reneé declared triumphantly, pressing a kiss to Y/N's cheek.

Y/N smiled, feeling a rush of gratitude for the woman by her side. Despite the challenges of fame, moments like these made it all worthwhile.

As the night descended upon Brussels, the vibrant energy of the city seemed to converge upon the grand concert venue where Reneé Rapp was set to perform. Y/N watched from the VIP section, her heart swelling with pride as she beheld her girlfriend commanding the stage with an electrifying presence.

Dressed in a glittering ensemble that shimmered under the stage lights, Reneé exuded an aura of confidence as she launched into her performance, the opening notes of "Not My Fault" sending ripples of excitement through the audience.

Y/N couldn't tear her eyes away as Reneé's voice filled the air, each lyric delivered with an intensity that seemed to speak directly to her soul. It was as if the entire world faded away, leaving only Reneé and the mesmerizing melody that enveloped them both.

Lost in the moment, Y/N felt a rush of emotion as Reneé's gaze seemed to lock onto hers, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. It was a look that spoke volumes, a silent declaration of love amidst the sea of adoring fans.

But just as the song reached its crescendo, a sudden commotion broke out in the crowd. Y/N's heart leapt into her throat as she watched Reneé's expression shift from exhilaration to concern in an instant.

Without hesitation, Reneé halted the music, her voice cutting through the chaos as she called out to the distressed fan. "Hey, are you okay?"

Y/N strained to hear over the din of the crowd, her eyes darting anxiously as she searched for any sign of trouble.

"I-I think so," the fan stammered, her voice trembling with emotion as Reneé knelt beside her.

Reneé's brow furrowed with concern as she gently helped the fan to her feet. "Take deep breaths, okay? We're going to get you some help."

As Reneé called for the medical team to assist the fan, Y/N felt a swell of admiration for her girlfriend's selflessness. Despite the interruption to her performance, Reneé's priority remained clear: ensuring the safety and welfare of her audience.

With the fan in capable hands, Reneé turned back to the stage, her resolve unwavering. "I want to make sure everyone is safe before we continue," she announced, her voice resonating with authority.

The crowd erupted into applause, their admiration for Reneé evident in every cheer and applause. Y/N watched with a swelling heart as Reneé's leadership and compassion shone brightly in the face of adversity.

Finally, with the fan safely attended to, Reneé resumed her performance, her voice ringing out with renewed vigor. As the music filled the air once more, Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for the woman she loved, knowing that no obstacle could dim the brilliance of Reneé Rapp.

Amidst the cheers and applause, Y/N caught Reneé's eye once more, a silent exchange of love and gratitude passing between them. In that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, they found solace in each other's unwavering support, a bond stronger than any challenge they faced.

Unbeknownst to the audience, it wasn't just any ordinary performance for Reneé Rapp—it was her and Y/N's four-year anniversary, a milestone they both cherished deeply.

In between songs, Reneé took a moment to engage with her adoring fans, her infectious smile lighting up the stage as she bantered with the audience.

"You all are amazing tonight!" Reneé exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "But you know what makes tonight even more special?"

The crowd murmured in curiosity, hanging on Reneé's every word as she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"It's mine and Y/N's four-year anniversary!" Reneé announced, her excitement palpable. "And I thought, what better way to celebrate than with all of you?"

Cheers erupted throughout the venue, the audience sharing in Reneé's joy as she explained her plan.

"I want to sing a little bit of 'The Wedding Song' for Y/N," Reneé continued, her gaze sweeping over the crowd. "And I need your help to make it extra special. Are you with me?"

The response was deafening as the audience erupted into cheers and applause, eager to participate in the celebration.

With a smile that could light up the darkest of nights, Reneé invited Y/N onto the stage, her heart swelling with love as she took her girlfriend's hand in hers.

Y/N's cheeks flushed with excitement as she joined Reneé in the spotlight, her eyes never leaving her girlfriend's captivating gaze. As the music began to play, Y/N found herself entranced by the graceful movements of Reneé's body, each step a mesmerizing dance that spoke volumes of their love.

As they sang together, their voices blending in perfect harmony, Y/N couldn't help but feel a rush of desire coursing through her veins. Reneé's presence was intoxicating, her passion igniting a fire within Y/N's soul.

Lost in the moment, they swayed together to the rhythm of the music, their love shining brighter than any spotlight. And as the final notes of the song faded into the night, they shared a tender embrace, the applause of the audience washing over them like a warm embrace.

With tears of joy glistening in her eyes, Y/N whispered words of love and gratitude to Reneé, their bond stronger than ever as they celebrated their anniversary in the spotlight of their love. And amidst the cheers and applause, they knew that this moment would be etched in their hearts forever, a testament to the power of love to conquer all.

As the audience erupted into cheers and applause, Reneé's heart pounded with excitement and nervous anticipation. This was the moment she had been waiting for, the culmination of months of planning and a lifetime of love.

Stepping forward, Reneé took a deep breath, her eyes locked on Y/N's as she began her speech. "Y/N, from the moment I met you, my life changed in ways I never could have imagined. You've brought so much joy, laughter, and love into my world, and I am eternally grateful for every moment we've shared together."

A soft smile tugged at Y/N's lips as she listened, her eyes shining with emotion. She knew what was coming next, but that didn't make the moment any less thrilling.

"Every day with you is an adventure, a journey filled with laughter, tears, and everything in between," Reneé continued, her voice filled with sincerity. "You are my partner, my confidante, and my best friend, and I can't imagine facing this crazy world without you by my side."

The audience watched with bated breath as Reneé's speech reached its climax, the anticipation mounting with each passing moment. And then, with a flourish, Reneé dropped to one knee, a small velvet box in her hand.

"Y/N, will you do me the honor of being my wife?" Reneé asked, her voice filled with emotion as she looked up at Y/N with unwavering love and devotion.

Y/N's heart soared as she nodded eagerly, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. "Yes, Reneé, a million times yes!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their excitement filling the air as Reneé slipped the ring onto Y/N's finger, sealing their love with a promise of forever.

In that moment, surrounded by the people they loved most in the world, Reneé and Y/N knew that their journey together was just beginning. And as they embraced, their hearts overflowing with love and happiness, they couldn't wait to embark on the adventure of a lifetime, hand in hand, forevermore.

[analbedo]

📔 that boy’s a liar ft asshole virgin killer jock bf childe

ngl im having Bad Childe Thoughts™️ sorry he’s such nonconner bait like skskfkkdks. also this was not supposed to be this long sadly i just got too silly wit it >_> also it’s been so long since i wrote i had to keep looking words up to make sure i used them right asksjdjsk i was staring at my phone for like 10 minutes bc there’s no way sinisterly is a word 🤨 anyway.

i could easily imagine him being, like, an asshole jock, probably plays some rich boy sport like lacrosse 😭 and every time the school year starts he’s always looking for another cute freshman to fuck. he had a thing for virgins, and no one was more virginal than a fresh out of high school girl, eager to find her first boyfriend, completely oblivious to the nature of men. (well, really, men like him.)

𐐪 warning: this fic contains dark content, please read my dark content disclaimer before continuing. minors dni.

🦢cw: virginity kink, dubcon/sexual coercion, noncon/rape (both implied and explicit, the word rape is also used), misogyny (i’m sorry women🥺), emotional manipulation, unhealthy relationships, unconsensual nude sharing, degradation, unconsensual creampie-ing (is there a better word for this?), hair pulling, mouth spitting, contraception mention⁉️

° 𐐪 ♡ 𐑂 nsfw below the cut! 𐐪 ♡ 𐑂 °

and that’s what led ajax to you, the bright eyed, overly naive barely legal cheerleader. most cheerleaders were too slutty for his tastes, but he could tell from the innocent way you swung your hips and nervousness around guys that you’d probably never had a boyfriend, let alone sex.

bagging you was too easy, he almost felt bad for you. he’d barely finished inviting you to one of his games when you’d excitedly accepted. afterward, him convincing you to go to a frat party later that night was child’s play (no pun intended). from there on, you were putty in his hands. ajax had no real intentions of dating you, you were a bit too innocent for his tastes. but, when you offhandedly mentioned you were saving yourself for “the one” (seriously?), he realized he had no other choice.

nothing really changed after you made it official, you still went to his games and parties with him, and sent him nudes that he was definitely sending to his friends’ groupchat. ajax, the notorious virgin killer, and his new victim. the general consensus was that you were the hottest one he found, which was an accomplishment, but his friends teased him for how long it was taking for him to smash— “you’re losing your touch there, casanova” kaeya texted him after he updated the chat on his latest date with you.

ajax rolled his eyes, but it was true. you were really not trying to give it up, even if you were blackout drunk, slurring your words at parties, even when he lit candles and set out rose petals for your one month anniversary, even when he said he’d never tell anyone. nothing was working, and he was starting to get annoyed. nutting on you face, tits, and ass wasn’t cutting it; if anything he was starting to get more and more sexually frustrated. he wouldn’t force you, he wasn’t that type of guy, but damn it if he wasn’t running out of ways to try to convince you to let him actually put his dick inside you; he’d even settle for just head at this point.

ajax reached his breaking point one night after a game. his team won the championship finals for their division, or something, which meant they had a solid chance at playing to win the state title. surely, he deserved something for that. so, when you invited him over to celebrate after, he was expecting more than you just surprising him with a homemade dinner after his shower.

“that’s it?” ajax asked, looking in disbelief at the table, his voice gradually growing louder and meaner as he spoke. “you fucking cook for me all the time, why the fuck would you think this is a surprise?”

you felt your heart sink a little bit; you’d put way more effort into it than your usual dishes, and you thought he’d might like a nice, fulfilling dinner after working so hard. ajax had little outbursts like this all the time, but he assured you that’s just how relationships are, and who would give up a tall, handsome, perfectly sculpted redhead athlete just because he’s a little temperamental.

you remained quiet; usually, this is where he’d apologize and say he had a bad day, or was tired. but, his tirade kept going.

“we’ve been together three fucking months and you’re still acting like the same boring virgin bitch as when we started dating. i thought for once you’d stop fucking neglecting me and finally fucking put out.” ajax reached up to run a hand through his damp auburn hair, his towel slipping down ever so slightly as he did so. you felt your face grow warm in embarrassment and desire. you wanted to wait, but him borderline flashing you sent butterflies down your stomach to between your legs.

“i’m sorry,” you said meekly, genuinely meaning it. you tried explaining how scared you were to do it for the first time; stds, pregnancy, or having your cherry popped, which you imagined would be more painful than it sounds. ajax always gave you the same responses, that he was clean, he’d pull out, he’d be gentle. you had no reason to deny him, really, you saw a future with him; and, if he’d dated you this long without having sex, you imagined he’d want to be with you forever once you said yes.

but still, something in your body was telling you to stop, leave, run. as many butterflies as he gave you, there were still cold claws of dread and fear dragging in your chest at the thought of sleeping with him. “i’m just not ready yet, baby. i’m sorry.” you replied, unable to meet his eye.

that was probably a good thing, because the look of disgust he casted would’ve been enough to make you break down in tears. “not… ready?” ajax asked in an angry low timbre. “you’re a fucking adult, for christ’s sake, what the fuck do you mean you’re not ready? it’s fucking sex, not a marriage proposal.” he huffed incredulously, running both hands through his hair now while throwing his head back. he turned away from you, finally allowing you to lift your gaze from the floor. staring at his back, you realized just how muscular your boyfriend was— and tall too.

if he really wanted it, he could easily take it. you wouldn’t stand a chance.

the thought alone made your throat swell and eyes prick. you never thought he could be that kind of guy; and if he is, wouldn’t it be better to just let him do what he wants? maybe he’d go easy on you if you said yes now.

“everyone else on the team is probably getting ass at that after party, and i’m fucking stuck here playing house with a childish ass bitch,” ajax groaned. his words felt like punches straight to the gut; you instinctively held your abdomen in response. he turned around to you, his face now free of anger, but full of… something. you didn’t know what, but it was sending shivers down your spine. “you know, this is the longest i’ve ever gone without having sex,” he said in a neutral tone, slowly walking around the table to approach you. you winced as he lifted your chin up, bringing his face uncomfortably close to yours.

“look at me,” ajax said softly, but sinisterly. you forced your tear filled eyes to meet his, but not without trembling in fear. “you’re neglecting me, you know. isn’t it a little unfair to deprive me of intimacy, when i’ve been doing everything i can to make you comfortable? why are you so scared of me, hm? why don’t you trust me?” you merely blinked in response; if you talked you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back sobbing. “i don’t neglect you, do i? is there anything you want that i don’t for do?” you pondered the question; though he was rarely ever nice or this soft spoken, he had a point— physically, he’d given you all the cuddles and forehead kisses you could want.

still, that wasn’t the same thing as having sex? or, was it? who’s to say he finds cuddling as intimate as lovemaking? maybe sex was to him what cuddling was to you— maybe you were neglecting him. you shook your head softly in reply.

“good girl, you’re right. i’ve done everything i can to prove you can trust me, does that not matter to you? will i never be good enough for you?” ajax’s voice sounded sincere, but the cold, perverse look in his eyes still made you doubt. “i’ve been so patient, baby. i could’ve taken it any time i wanted, but i waited for you. you gonna keep me waiting forever?”

something about his logic wasn’t quite adding up to you— but, it didn’t matter. your brain was too clogged with fear to compute anything. plus, he confirmed what you tried so hard to not acknowledge all along: if he wanted you, he could have you, whether you wanted it or not. your heart thudded in your chest.

you felt guilty for depriving your boyfriend for so long, but that was overshadowed by your fear of what he’d do to you if you kept kept saying no. “ok,” you whispered meekly, so soft you were surprised he even heard it.

or, maybe he didn’t. it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

ajax smiled, though this time his grin of approval filled you with cold terror instead of giddy excitement. “i knew you’d do the right thing.”

***

“shouldn’t we use condoms?” you asked. you were sitting on your bed, wrapping your naked body with your fuzzy pink blanket. maybe you were as childish as he said. the more you thought about it, the less you wanted to do it, but, it was too late mow.

“they’re too small for me, but, don’t worry, i’m clean. can’t let an std fuck up my lacrosse career, you know?” ajax said casually, walking towards the bed.

“no, not for that. i meant for- i mean, like, i’m not on, like, birth control or anything—” you stammered.

“oh that’s fine, i was gonna pull out anyway. can’t let a baby fuck up my career, either,” he replied, chuckling at his own joke before giving you a light peck. “plus, you’re too hot to knock up right now, it’d ruin your body. i’d save that for after you’ve already hit the wall. anyway,” he said sliding back on the bed and leaning against the wall. “come here princess, i’ll show you what to do.”

you turned around and crawled toward him, sitting back on your heels. his comment about your body momentarily snapped you out of your fearful haze; were you really about to give it up to such an asshole?

ajax twirled his finger, motioning you. “face that way, towards the door. and get on your hands and knees”

“like this?”

“perfect. now—” instead of giving instructions, ajax put his hand between your shoulder blades and pushed you down roughly. “you’re gonna stay like that.”

it was kind of humiliating being in such a lewd pose; you’d always imagined your first time would be passionate missionary sex, not getting your back blown out. ajax shuffled behind you on the bed; he was taking his boxers off.

“okay, you ready? i’m gonna be honest, it’s pretty big, and it’s gonna hurt a lot before it starts to feel good, alright?” ajax said as he positioned himself behind you, his hands on your hips as he slowly dragged the tip of his dick against your vulva. “just keep taking it, though,” he said, lowering his voice for the rest of his sentence: “i didn’t wait all this time just to get blue balled.”

ajax lined himself up with your hole, and you sucked in a breath as you felt the slight pressure of his tip on the outer rim. you winced, scrunching your face as you prepared for him to actually go in.

sadly, nothing could’ve prepared you for that type of pain.

“fuck— ajax stop, no, it hurts— it hurts too much—” you cried out, practically screaming.

“tch. stop being so dramatic, i’m not even halfway in,” ajax paused his speech as he pushed into you further, eliciting a yelp. the searing pain was almost enough to render you unconscious, and, god, how you wish it actually did. “it’ll hurt less once you’re used to it. relax, for fucks sake. the more you panic the more it hurts.”

you wished you could heed his advice— but, then again, what does he know? he’d only ever inflicted the pain, never received it. there’s no way he could comprehend how horrific it felt being split open, your body resisting every inch but still being made to take it. the pain came from between your legs and in your head, too, the few fleeting thoughts you had besides how much it hurt questioning how he could put you through this, if he really loved you, he knew you weren’t ready.

you abandoned speech altogether, merely sobbing as ajax continued to push his thick cock inside you.

ajax paused again. “crying’s only hot if i can see it. shut the fuck up, you’re killing the mood.” when you didn’t stop sobbing, he grabbed you by the ponytail, jerking your towards him so he could mutter in your ear; the shock was enough to shut you up, at least momentarily. “i swear i get soft ‘cause you keep whining like a bitch, you’re gonna suck it til it’s hard again, and i’ll make sure it hurts a whole lot fucking worse.” he let go of your hair, your body flopping limply back onto your bed.

you took a deep breath, biting down on your arm to silence yourself, and prepared for the worst.

ajax was angry now, and, being the cause of his agitation, he happily took it out you. you bit down so hard you could’ve sworn you drew blood as he continued to shove his cock inside you; his thrusts were rough, it felt as he was tearing you open. just as your brain grew delirious with pain, you felt one final shove before the warmth of his body was against your ass.

“there, that wasn’t so bad, was it, baby? i don’t even think you’re bleeding,” ajax cooed. you were so beat down you couldn’t even speak, but he didn’t really need a reply; he didn’t care how bad it was for you, because it was perfect for him. “but i know you’re still a virgin, or, were a virgin, ‘cause you’re so fucking tight.” he moaned as he held your hips and pushed into further, somehow managing to get even deeper. this caused a new type of discomfort; less of the searing torture of him going in, but a nonetheless dull, aching pain in your lower abdomen.

“fuck, you feel so good, pussy’s gripping me so tight like it’s made for me. think i just hit your cervix, too.” ajax’s hands traveled from your hips to your ass, massaging the soft flesh on either side. “you’re so fucking hot, i could probably cum just from this.”

panic became the new sensation that took you over. “but you said you’d pull out,” you cried, trying a last ditch attempt to crawl away from him.

ajax easily held you against him again, and sighed in annoyance. “i said i could, not that i would, stupid slut. you’re the last girl alive i’d knock up; who’d wanna spend 18 years with your annoying ass?”

tears returned to your eyes; is this really how he viewed you? was this entire relationship just a ruse to get in your pants?

well, it didn’t matter, at this point. he was already there, and wasn’t leaving until he finished. you had no choice but to take it.

ajax clicked his tongue before gently sliding out of you, barely an inch. he showed no mercy thrusting back into you, though, making that dull ache resonate again. he slowly pulled out again, leaving only the tip inside.

“damn, you’re pretty wet for a bitch that says she doesn’t want it,” he sneered. ajax slammed his dick back inside you; strangely, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the first time, minus him hitting your cervix. “but virgins are all the same,”ajax continued, picking up the pace at which he rutted into you. “you pretend you don’t want it to ‘cause of your purity bullshit, but the second i’ve got you bent over you start creamin’ on me like a porn star, can’t help yourself.”

the pain of him sliding into you was gone at this point; you could only feel the drag of his cock against your walls, rubbing against a spot that made ecstasy shoot through you. even the ache from him going too deep started to feel pleasurable. you couldn’t help but moan as waves of euphoria washed over you.

“yeah, you like that, baby?” ajax purred, before sending a sharp smack to your ass. he chuckled hearing you moan at that, too. “damn, you’re a masochist, too? didn’t think a pure little princess would be such a whore in bed.” he slapped your ass again, before reaching around to grab your neck and pull you towards him and titling your head back so he could look into your face. “bet you’re sorry for making me wait, huh? fucking tease,” he snapped, before spitting into your mouth. “swallow it.”

you did as you were told, disgusted by the feeling of the warm, foamy liquid landing in your mouth and sliding down your esophagus. he let you go, and you fell again back onto the bed. ajax placed a large hand on your back, pushing you down into the right position.

“keep your back fucking arched,” ajax scolded. with one hand pressing you into the sheets, and one firmly grasping the softness of your hip, he rutted into you, harder, and faster, each thrust sending shots of pleasure and pain throughout your whole body.

“ah- ajax- slow- fuck- slow down, ‘ts too much- too fast-i can’t—” you moaned, drooling onto the sheets. it felt so wrong, letting him do this to you, with all the awful things he’s said and done— but, you couldn’t help how good it felt taking his dick, every movement adding to the euphoric build up that made your body limo and head dizzy.

the intensity of pain and pleasure increased as he leaned over to hiss in your ear: “you’re gonna take what i fucking give you., slut.” ajax pried open your jaw, and shoved two long fingers into your mouth. “i’m tired of listening to you moaning, i wanna hear you gag for me, princess.” you choked around him, his digits pressing the back of your throat. “yeah, just like that, baby.”

the feeling of his fingers being pushed down your throat as he panted in your ear, while still not letting up on his rapid thrusts was all too stimulating; you felt your body tremble as you came, tranquillizing euphoria spreading your body like electricity. you could vaguely feel your pussy flutter around ajax’s dick, involuntarily clenching around him.

“fuck, you just got so much tighter— ah, wetter, too,” ajax moaned in your ear, burying his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder. “fuck, baby, i’m so close, feels so fucking good—” he cut himself off with his own panting, desperately chasing his own release.

it took you a moment to register his words in your post orgasm haze, but you quickly snapped to attention once you did. you jerked your head to the side so his fingers were no longer massaging the back of your tongue.

“wait- ajax, you said you’d pull out—”

“god, i know, i will, now shut the fuck up before you ruin it,” he groaned. his hands moved to yours, pinning your wrists down while as rhythm grew sloppy.

“ajax, please- you said you wouldn’t, cum inside me— please— please don’t don’t—“ you plead desperately.

“shut up, bitch,” ajax spat. “i know what im fucking doing,”. “i’m not gonna nut inside you— fuck— just need a little more—ah”

“please don’t,” you whispered softly; you were almost certain ajax wouldn’t risk cumming inside you— his reasoning was sound, but there again was that feeling of chilling dread as he kept messily rutting into you.

“fuck, ‘ts so good, so fucking wet— ah” ajax panted, indifferent to your reminders. his speed slowed, now more pronounced pounding. “fuck, fuck, i’m sorry baby, it just feels too fucking good, i can’t— ahh”

you screamed for him to stop, but it was too late; you could feel after his final thrust a warmth inside you, spreading deeper into your core as he wrapped his arms around you. “ajax, stop it— get off— let me go!” you screeched, desperately trying to break free from his grasp.

“sorry, princess, ‘ts too late now. shit, there’s so fucking much, too,” ajax sighed, pushing into you even harder. “fuck.”

nothing could describe the disgust you felt, trapped under your boyfriend’s sweaty, toned body as he forced you to take every last drop of his cum, shamelessly draining his balls inside your limp body. you knew you had to worry about pregnancy or an sti, but those were far from your mind.

the only thing you could think about is how bad you wanted to die.

ajax finally released you, getting off the bed and searching for his clothes. once free, you immediately crawled into a fetal position, tears pooling from your eyes as his cum drooled down your thighs.

epilogue

“sorry about that, by the way,” ajax said nonchalantly, as if he didn’t basically ruin your life. “it’s been so long since i last had sex, i guess i forgot how to pull out in time, so it’s kind of on you for making me wait.”

you said nothing; as humiliated as you were, you couldn’t risk more embarrassment by actually responding to him.

“hey, so, there’s still an after party going on, so i think i’m gonna check that out. you don’t have to worry about coming though— shit, sorry— attending, i know you probably have some shit you wanna work through right now. soooo,” you heard his footsteps head toward your bedroom door. he paused, as if he was waiting for a response, but eventually you heard him leave your room, head out the front door, and drive off. you laid on your bed, curled up in shame, for what felt like an eternity, until the loud text alert from your phone jolted you out of your catatonic state. it was a text— from ajax, surprisingly.

hey. left you a apology gift on your table. hope it helps.

you threw on a bathrobe and shuffled miserably back to your dining room. the elaborate feast you made was embarrassing to look at; all that effort just to get borderline raped by your boyfriend for his special night. you saw the gift he must have been referring to: a wad of bills, that, when you counted them it amounted to $65. you read the messy scrawl on the accompanying note:

enough for a plan b ♡

[felixsgirl]

jealous chan

pairing: bang chan x fem!reader

genre: smut

word count: 3,583

tags: best friends to lovers, femxbangchan

warnings: very jealous chan, language, slight daddy kink, degradation, praise, oral fixation, edging, brat!reader, soft dom chan, unprotected sex, car sex (kinda?), fingering, finger sucking, punishment, teasing, hickies, words used like slut, whore, baby, my sweet girl, my pretty girl, sweetheart.

summary: reader keeps playing hard to get and chan has his last straw when they go out to a bar one friday night.

author note: first work lets get it

you and chan are sitting at the bar, two on the rocks whiskeys in hand when the guy who’d been ogling you for minutes now began to come over to you. you kept making tiny gestures at him, a smirk or two, a wink now and then. you have absolutely zero interest in this man, but you love the feeling of seeing chan physically angered and protective over you. you also love being so difficult to the point where you haven’t even let him take you home yet. even though its been what, 6 dates now since you’ve both confessed your feelings for each other? its the rush of accomplishment that you feel when you know you’ve done a good job of making him frustrated. you love it.

chan hadn’t noticed you fake flirting with him, but as soon as he realized the guy was stumbling over to you two, he immediately knew what for.

“the fuck is he coming over here for.” he grumbles under his breath, “does he not know how to read the goddamn room?” chan’s ring adorned hand grips your thigh tighter, out of anger already and the guy hadn’t even gotten all the way over here yet. “mm i don’t know chris, lets see what he wants shall we?” you smirk angling yourself a bit away from him, and towards the god awful man now standing in front of you.

“hey, saw you staring at me when i was standing over there. your boyfriend mind if i take you home? just want to rip that dress right off you babydoll.” the guy slurs on his wants. you aren’t phased, you don’t reply to him either. you look at chan, with an expectant look, brows slightly raised.

“yeah chan do you mind?” you play along with it. he knows what you’re doing, and boy is he pissed. “yes i fucking mind, you better get the fuck away from her before you have no hands to rip anyones dress off.” he spits at the guy, grabbing your wrist and dragging you off the chair towards the front entrance. “lets go”

“but chris.” you whine, “you’re ruining all the fun.” he stops to turn around and look at you. “this is fun to you? just wait till i get your ass home y/n.” he continues walking, your arm in hand until he reaches his car. opening your door and practically throwing you in there, you knew he was raging. you could feel his anger through his skin. you smiled at that thought, loving treatment like this.

“something funny?” he says angrily, starting to get into the drivers seat and start the car. you don’t reply, just simply shaking your head nonchalantly. you immediately feel his rough hands grab your hair, pulling your head up to look at him. “i asked you something, sweetheart.” you almost let out the most pathetic whimper, but you bite your lip just in time. swallowing it back down.

“nothings funny chris.” you answer. he scoffs in return letting you go and putting his hands back on the wheel. he starts to head home. there are about a million thoughts going on in your mind. you remember what he said earlier. “wait till i get your ass home” you get distracted by these impending thoughts when chans hand lands on your thigh again. his thumb caressing the skin.

“so you think its funny to flirt with other guys when i’m right fucking next to you huh?” he questions as your eyes widen immediately. he did notice you flirting with the guy at the bar? you swore he was facing the other way. you thought he was mad earlier? imagine how mad he is now. you pretend not to hear his question. attempting to appear normal as possible, glancing out the window while fidgeting with your fingers.

“i know you hear me, y/n. answer the question.” his grip on your thigh gets a little tighter. you shake your head at him, looking away from him as he stops at a red light. he tuts shaking his head. your answer wasn’t enough for him.

“look at me when i’m speaking to you.” he speaks a little rougher than before. you finally look up at him, shaking your head again. his brows raise, and you know exactly what for. “no, i didn’t think it was funny.” you finally get words out without sounding pathetic as ever. he hums in reply, clearly unimpressed. he knows you like getting a rise out of him, and you know he knows.

his hand on your thigh inches up slowly and slowly on the drive home. fingers achingly close to your clothed core. he brushes his fingers against your covered clit. eliciting a strained whimper from you as you resist the urge to grind your hips against his hand.

“what’s your problem hm? just can’t seem to be patient can you y/n?” he questions, pretending not to be fully aware of what he was doing to you. he moves his fingers closer to your clit, feeling how soaked you were through your panties. your eyebrows began to furrow as your head tips back.

“you’re fucking soaked. does being a whore turn you on?” you let out a moan in reply as he shakes his head at you.

“can’t even speak you’re so fucked out already, pathetic. i can feel you throbbing through your panties.” he scoffs, your hips raise up against his fingers. attempting to get more friction that you so desperately craved. his fingers stay the same pace. slightly rubbing against the fabric of your pink panties. you grab his hand at an attempt to get him to move faster, but he jerks it away before you get the chance.

“oh now you want to try and control what you get? you couldn’t even speak seconds ago.” his hand rests on your thigh again, making you more impatient. “channie. p-please.” you whine. looking up at him with your puppy dog eyes that work on him every time. he can’t resist the needy look in your eyes as he sighs.

“off.” he demands. you immediately reach the waistband of your panties and pull them off. letting them sit at your ankles. “now, you gonna be a good girl and take what daddy gives you hm?” he questions, and you nod eagerly. desperate enough to take literally anything.

“if you make yourself cum on my fingers by the time we get home, ill make your punishment a little more bearable. if you don’t, then i guess you’ll learn your lesson by the morning. won’t you, baby?” you nod, wearily but he grabs your chin harshly.

“speak up.” he says. the demanding tone of his voice makes your thighs squeeze together. you stutter out a “yes daddy.” trying to prevent the moan threatening to leave your quivering lips.

his fingers meet your dripping slit without the cloth of your panties in the way. you gasp at how much more sensitive you were despite what you thought. he moves his hand up so his thumb is hovering over your flushed clit. he ever so slightly brushes over it back and forth making you groan out in frustration.

“please touch me, channie. need you.” you whimper. mindlessly lifting your hips against his hand but he moves it before you can get anything from it. “i never said anything about me helping you did i?” he questions, resting his hand on your lower stomach. you shake your head in response, jutting out your lower lip in a pout. a useless attempt to get him to soften up. you knew he wouldn’t, but it was worth a shot.

“go on then, make yourself cum for me pretty.”

you take that as permission to grab his hand. guiding his fingers to your clit, all the way down to your dripping hole and back up again.

“so fucking wet. jesus baby.” he grunts. beginning to to slowly rub his fingers against your clit and you moan out his name. grinding your hips up against his hand.

you continue your movements against his skilled fingers. hips beginning to stutter due to the pleasure. you don’t even notice his fingers moving down until he pushes his middle and ring finger into your entrance. you cry out, gasping as you grab his arm holding onto it for dear life. he begins to slowly move his fingers back and forth. easing them into your tight, quivering hole.

“look so pretty like this baby. all needy for me.” chan coos, feeling you clench at his words. he moves his fingers at a faster pace. causing you to grip his arm harder. your hips began to rut faster against his fingers inside you.

“you think he would’ve fucked you this good? made you this wet?” he questions, well aware of your fucked out state. well aware that you couldn’t get a single word out. let alone a response to his question. “n-no onl-” a moan interrupts your sentence as he abuses your dripping hole. you throw your head against the black leather seat behind you, moaning his name once more.

“hm baby? i didn’t quite catch that.” he gives you the most shit eating grin. waiting for you to respond, as his fingers are knuckles deep inside you. “no channie, only you.” he smiles in response, not giving you a warning before he starts slamming his fingers inside of you with his thumb beginning to rub on your clit. the pleasure shoots through you like a rocket. your back slightly arches up and off the passenger seat as he hits the spot deep inside of your aching cunt.

“that your spot sweet girl?” he asks. although he knows your body like the back of his hand. you moan in reply, feeling your thighs start to shake around his hand.

“channie- please.” you moan out, feeling the knot in your stomach twist more and more as he continues finger fucking you.

“what is it pretty? gonna cum for me like a good girl?” his words make you go fucking insane. you could’ve came from his words alone to be completely honest. the rasp of his voice spurring you on. you nod eagerly, whimpering his name.

“need you to make a mess for me baby mkay? cum all over the seat like a good slut.” you nod again unable to come up with a logical response. your brain was sluggish, feeling your high even closer now. just a few more thrusts and-

he stops.

he fucking stops.

you look over at him with a confused look on your face, and there he is. smiling like a goddamn idiot.

“why’d you-”

“aw baby did you not notice? we’re home already.”

oh.

you are home.

how long have you been sitting here in your driveway? you were way too fucked out to notice.

“chris.”

“y/n.”

“why did you wait so long to stop then? i was so close-”

“do you think i care? seriously. you flirt with a guy all night, in front of my face mind you, and you think i care about how close you were?” he grits, taking his keys out the ignition and starting to get out the car.

you follow not long after, whining about how you’re sorry, you didn’t mean it, it was just a joke, blah blah blah. but he didn’t care. he was pissed. pissed at the fact that you thought it was funny, pissed at the guy for saying such disgusting things to you and for thinking such disgusting things. especially about you. his girl. his. he wasn’t gonna let you off easy, at all.

you both finally enter your house, your whining never ending. you shut the door behind you, continuing to apologize to him before he finally turns around and wrapping his hand around your neck. slamming your back against the door.

“will you shut the fuck up already?” he growls. you immediately attempt to hold back the whimper trying to escape your throat. god, he was so hot when he was mad.

“don’t have anything to say anymore do you? i’ll give you something to whine about. you just wait.” he takes his hand off your throat. backing away from you completely and starts to walk to the kitchen. you follow him, mindlessly. not wanting to make him more upset.

“i want you in your bedroom. don’t take any of your clothes off yet. just your shoes, and sit on the bed for me will you?” you nod turning around to go upstairs into your room. you were so nervous, an excited nervous. but nervous nonetheless. he’s never gotten so angry before. yet again you’ve never gone as far as flirt with a guy in front of him. that was clearly his last straw with your teasing.

you slip your shoes off, putting them in the corner of your room, venturing back to your bed and you sit. you sit for what feels like hours but really five minutes until chan comes inside, shutting the door behind him.

“look so pretty in that dress, baby.” he says, walking over to you, standing in between your legs as he hovers over you. he raises his hand, coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. the once soft gesture becomes one of his anger when he roughly grabs your hair into a messy, makeshift ponytail.

“you know what else you look pretty in hm? my passenger seat, legs spread, looking so fucking delicious. all needy and soaked for me. only me. isn’t that right sweetheart?” you whimper in reply and nod meekly. his hands leave your hair and venture to your neck, wrapping around it and bringing you up to kiss him. his tongue immediately meets yours, swirling together as a muffled moan leaves your mouth. he pulls away, attacking your neck with his soft, plump lips. making as many marks as he can, he wants everyone who even makes a glance at you, to know you’re his, and his only.

“you wish it was him who would’ve taken you home?” he rasps, lips leaving chaste kisses behind your ear, down to your neck, collarbones.

you whimper and shake your head. “n-no channie, only want you.” you gasp out once his hands lift your dress to your hips. his hands squeeze them, pulling you closer to his propped up leg in between your thighs. he presses you against his thigh, your eyes roll back, hands immediately trying to find something to hold onto. you grasp his hair, moaning out his name.

“mm yeah? you don’t get this wet for anyone else baby? this needy?” he purrs, as his grip gets tighter on your hips. beginning to grind your clit against his toned thigh. you throw your head back, a choked back moan releasing from your mouth.

“i wish he would’ve tried to touch you. touch whats mine. you’re too pretty like this sweetheart. all pretty just for daddy.” you nod and moan in agreement, bucking your hips up against his thigh as your slick begins to glisten where your clit meets his skin.

your orgasm begins to climb back up its high that was earlier ruined in the car. your moaning getting breathier, hips starting to stutter.

“gonna cum aren’t you?” chan grunts, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing. your head falls back, mouth letting out uncontrollable moans.

“beg for it like i know you can baby. be a good girl and i’ll let you cum as many times as you want mkay?” you attempt to let out a please, but a moan of chans name gets in the way, causing him to tsk at you.

“thats not going to cut it, sweetheart. you’re gonna have to speak up if this is something you want.” his grip leaves your throat, gripping your hips again and brushing his thumb against your red, throbbing clit. making your hips jerk up against him.

“daddy please-.” another moan interrupts you as he rubs against you harder. “p-please let me cum. need it. need you.” you plead, looking up at him, eyes beginning to water from your pent up release.

“cum for me sweet girl.” the knot in your stomach finally drops as soon as those words leave chans mouth. your body jerks against him, mouth open in a silent scream as your slick drips onto his thigh.

“so beautiful like this, baby.” he whispers against your hair, kissing your forehead softly. you whimper in reply, burying your head in his chest.

he lets you rest for a few before laying you on the bed. gently slipping your dress off while nipping on your neck. you let out a few mewls, still a bit tired from your earlier orgasm. his gentle touch sends shivers down your body, despite his words being so rough, and dirty. his touch wasn’t, which was one of your favorite things about him.

he smoothly slips his shirt off, your hand’s immediately go to his firm chest, all the way down to his sculpted abs, feeling him. your hand travels down to the waistband of his pants, slightly tugging on it.

“you need something baby?” chan asks from above you. you nod slightly, tugging a little harder as your lip gets caught in between your teeth. you could see him bulging through the tight pants he had on, and my god was it the most attractive thing you’ve ever seen.

“need your cock, channie.” you whine, and he groans in return. you rarely talk like this because you’re usually too shy to. but when you do its his favorite thing, hearing the filthy words leave your mouth. makes his dick twitch like crazy.

“yeah? baby needs my cock huh? my thigh and fingers weren’t enough for you, were they?” he knew they weren’t. nothing could compare to his thick cock stretching you out like nothing else could. making your walls flutter around him as you cum.

he takes his hands off you to finally pull his pants off, his boxers follow in suit. as soon as you get even a glimpse of his rock hard cock your mouth begins to water, drenched hole clenching around nothing. he leans down to kiss you softly, pulling away and looking into your eyes making sure it was okay if he continued. you nodded and that was all it took for him to begin tracing your entrance with his throbbing tip.

he pushes more if his length inside you, getting only half of it inside you before he stops abruptly. you whine and immediately start trying to grind your hips up against his cock. his hands grip them harshly before you get the chance. “d-don’t do that. if you do that i’m gonna cum.” he grunts out, and you nod in understanding, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck pulling him closer.

a good 20 seconds pass before he begins thrusting inside of you once again. once he finally bottoms out you gasp out in reply, back arching against him.

“s-so big, channie.” you whimper as he starts to pick up his pace. his hips stutter at your words, he gains his composure back burying his head in your neck. leaving little kisses down to your collarbone.

“you feel so damn good princess, so tight for me.” he whispers below your ear. you clench around him at his words, making him moan out your name. he tries his best to hold himself over, he never cums before you do, your needs before his own always.

your little jerks against him, the way you gasp out everytime his hips meet yours. makes him go fucking insane. the way no one can make you feel like this. only him.

his thrusts get a little deeper, a little harder, the one particular thrust has you raising your hips up against his own. has your back arching like a beautiful crescent moon against him and he knows exactly why. he found your g spot. as he does everytime.

“is that it baby? right there hm?” he questions. you can’t even make a logical response back. just mumbles of his name, moaning out against him as he fucks you stupid.

“cmon sweetheart, i know you’re close. give me another one.” his rough hand meets your clit, rubbing it harshly with his thumb. he reaches his head down to your hardened nipples, wrapping his lips around it as you moan out his name very loudly might i add.

the white hot pleasure finally begins to seep through you, reaching throughout every inch of your body as your pussy clamps firmly around his pulsing cock inside of you.

his thrusts begin to get sloppier soon after you cum around him. he spurs your orgasm on as he continues his abusive pace inside of you. before you know it hes grunting your name as his thick white seed bursts out of his cock inside of your slick walls.

“you’re so fucking good to me baby, you know that?” he sighs, breathing still heavy from his and your earlier orgasm.

“mm am i?” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, keeping him close.

you both fall asleep soon after, exhausted, happy and in the comfort of your bed wrapped under the blanket with him. you wouldn’t ask for anything less or anything more. this was all you needed, in chan’s arms at the end of a very long, very tiring day.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Malleus, Deuce: Like Mother, Like Son

BRO'S STILL MAKING THE "ARE YOU LOST BBY GHORL" FACE … Malleus’s birthday hits different knowing what I know now 💀 ALSO THE FACT THAT DEUCE SAID "THAT" ABOUT MALEFICENT VS THE HUMANS IS... (trying to keep this wording vague so as to not spoil people who haven’t gotten there yet)

It’s nice to see Malleus and Deuce in the vignettes, I feel like they don’t get to interact that much (which is a shame because I think their dynamic is cute). They had a chapter together in the manga anthology too! I’m glad they could hang out some more.

A Tale as Old as Time.

The princess and her prince were picture perfect in the painting.

The woman, with golden curls that tumbled down her back. Her cerulean gown spilled to the polished floors like a fabric waterfall, the tiara in her hair catching the soft evening light. She gazed up at her lover's warm, twinkling eyes, and smiled.

The man, brunette, locks falling loosely across his forehead. He was handsome in a red tunic with a high black collar, a crimson cape billowing out behind him with each step he took. His gaze was locked with the princess's, his one and only.

Onlookers gathered in a ring around the two, spellbound by how they danced, bodies twinning like threads bound together. It was something precious they dared not disturb, even their breaths clutched like pearls to prevent their escape.

This was happily ever after, a dream come true.

It should have been.

Yet Malleus frowned. His brows drew together and his mouth pursed, a brewing storm settling over his face.

“Draconia-senpai?” Deuce called to him anxiously. “I-Is something wrong? You look a little scary…”

The first year glanced at the portrait of the royal couple. He jumped. “D-Don’t tell me, did this painting piss you off?! Er, I mean... Did it offend you?"

“No, nothing of the sort,” Malleus replied. He rested an index finger against his chin. “It sparked memories of my own days in court. As the crown prince to the Briar Valley, it goes without saying that I've attended a number of occasions similar to what is depicted here."

"Oh, for real? That makes sense, you being royalty and all. What were those events like?"

"Most are rather solemn affairs. Grandmother, the senators, and other politicians gather to discuss diplomacy, trade, and national policies. For certain occasions, there are traditional rituals that must first be performed. A royal birth, for example, must be blessed before the festivities can commence. If it is a knighting, then all the royal guard shall be present and a speech of one's accomplishments read."

Deuce blinked a few times, as though shedding sleepiness. His mind struggled to grasp the enormity of a prince's duties. He dropped the smartest sounding response he could: "That sounds tough."

Malleus lips slightly lifted. "I do not mind it. There is pride to be had in conducting such work."

I don't have a reason to doubt what he's saying, but... Deuce clenched his fists at his sides. If Draconia-senpai really feels that way, why does he still seem so pained?

The fairy drew out a sigh, as if dissatisfied with the silence. "... Ah, but how strange. When I look upon this painting, I see many people present... yet the princess touched by diurnal fae and her prince take no notice of them. They have eyes only for each other."

His words were velvet-lined, soft on the ears. Beneath them, a pang of longing rose like a fine mist at daybreak.

"What must it feel like to be so beloved?" Malleus wondered. "To have someone who considers you the most special being in all the world?"

Vines twisted in his gut, thorns prickling his insides. Frustration and molten discontent pooled. For all the power that he wielded, he failed to attain such a basic thing.

Love.

"Do you understand such a feeling, Spade?" The inquiry was pure acid.

"H-Huh, me?!" Deuce startled, not prepared for the demand in Malleus's voice. "Well... uh, I guess my mom calls me her big, strong man. Does that count?"

Malleus's brow furrowed. "I'm afraid I don't follow. Is it customary for children of man to refer to their offspring as 'big, strong men'?"

"I think that's just my mom's thing." He shrugged. "I'm the only man in the house, so I try to help her out if I can. She jokes about it when I do."

Malleus made a face. It was difficult to discern the emotion he wore.

"Moms, right?" Deuce gave a nervous laugh. "They can be embarrassing, but they care about us a lot."

"I never knew my mother."

"... Oh." A rock dropped in Deuce's stomach. He hurried for an apology as dread rippled through him. "Shit, my bad! I didn't mean to..."

Malleus held up a hand in an elegant dismissal. "Be at ease. I harbor no anger."

There was no point, he told himself, in rage expressed for a woman he had no bond with. Her face, her voice--they were all a mystery to him. She was but a stranger adrift in an abyss.

Still, a part of him sparked at the thought of her, of someone he had yet to meet--would never meet. The thrill of fates closely intertwined, the tenderness of a parent's love.

Malleus went quiet, lowering his hand.

"Grandmother and Lilia have done their utmost to mentor me in her stead." He sounded hollow, insistent. Like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was Deuce.

The Heartslabyul student swallowed. He placed a firm hand on Malleus's arm and squeezed. "... It's not enough, is it?"

He received no answer.

“Your mom is thinking of you, wherever she is.”

Malleus pulled away, presenting his back to Deuce. "Dead fae do not tell tales," he said simply.

“That doesn’t mean she loved you any less,” Deuce stubbornly protested. “Right up until her last breath… she must have been so happy to have you, thinking about what kind of person you’d grow up to be.”

Dreaming of the day when she can, at last, meet you.

Blink, and his eyes were wet. Blink again, and his vision blurred. Heartbeat hot and quick, galloping upon coals.

Did my mother truly…?

“She’d be damn proud of you too.” Deuce flashed a wicked grin. “Believe me.”

“… Hah.” Malleus chuckled dryly.

The longer he considered it, the more appealing the idea became.

A woman in his likeness—or was he made in hers? Papery kisses, fond embraces, words of affirmation. Fire that burned strongly, warding off the darkness.

Wouldn’t that be something?

"I love you, Malleus," whispered that she-phantom. Sweet nothings that sated his starved soul. "Forever and always. My dear son, my pride and joy."

The carefully constructed stone fortress around his heart faltered. His desire burned like a falling star.

He took a breath, and fell from the heavens with his wish.

“Thank you, Spade.”

Just for this moment, let me walk once upon a dream.

A single tear slipped down Malleus’s cheek.

And what a wonderful dream it was.

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Eyes of Emerald Green // Vampire!Alys Rivers x Targaryen!Reader

MDNI, DD:DNE(?)

Summary: the woman who once plagued your dream while you were young, reappears.

WARNINGS: slight dubcon, age gap, sexual tension, masturbation, oral (both f), wlw relationship, vampire x human, blood drinking, cunnilingus, blood kink, tiddy sucking, face sitting, canon divergence, breeding kink(?) idk, multiple orgasms. + not proofread

WC: 3.4k

A/N: THE LONG AWAITED FIC LMAO, I've been teasing this since Halloween October 2023 💀💀💀 and now it's finally here 😳❗// divider creds to @cafekitsune

“Spare no man, woman, child or any bastard!” You commanded the guards who were capturing and killing the members of the house strong, this was not your original plan, but after hearing what had happened to king's landing, you vented your frustration on the house you despised the most, house strong.

Recapturing harrenhal was your brother's idea, you simply led the army, yet the city of kings landing was soon attacked, and when you had heard of it, you were stricken with rage.

The sounds of metal clinking, flesh being cut through was like a pleasant lullaby to your ears, you felt a sick sense of accomplishment even though the city had faced a big loss.

You were participating in the massacre too, stabbing the bodies of the members over and over again, covered in their blood, your hair matted as the blood dried up, yet you still did not stop.

But then suddenly you felt a shiver run up your spine and you spun around to see a woman, who appeared to be youthful, standing there in her maids robes, something about her drew you in, and you gasped when you made eye contact.

Emerald green eyes that seemed to piece through your soul, you suddenly felt vulnerable as if she could see through you and you remained frozen in place as you stared at her, you noted how you oddly felt a sense of familiarity with her.

Her eyes reminded you of the woman who appeared in your dreams a few years ago. You remember going to sleep that night and woke up with the feeling of something heavy sitting in your chest and opened your eyes to see the emerald green irises staring at you, you remember not being able to scream, and watched as she bared her fangs before biting down on your neck, you quickly woke up terrified and screamed, the servants immediately rushed in hearing the noise, you had tried telling them what happened and they simply dismissed it as a nightmare.

Those very same eyes were staring at you right now, as you massacred the house she probably served or belonged to.

Yet she did not look scared, but rather a sick expression of relief was on her face, almost as if she was expecting this to happen, as if she knew– that this would happen. You went towards her direction and stopped in front of her, she didn't budge, but merely stared, the blood that had stuck to your armour and hair did not scare her away, but instead, her breathing picked up, almost as if she was sniffing at the stench.

“You– who are you?” You asked and she smiled, “I had expected your arrival, my princess.” she did not answer your question but just stated what she wanted to and you raised an eyebrow, grip tightening on the sword, “And how exactly?” You asked and her eyes drifted to your sword for a moment before she made eye contact with you again, “I saw it in my dreams, my visions.” she replied.

“I hope that in your vision you had also foreseen your death, it would make it less shocking for what I am gonna do to you.” You reply sternly, beginning to shift to a more offensive position, ready to attack her but she just chuckled, “You wouldn't hurt me.” She said confidently and you scoffed, “And how exactly did you come to the conclusion that I would spare you?” You question, “Because princess, nobody knows you as well as I do, after all we've met before.” You just roll your eyes and grab her by the throat, but she doesn't struggle, “You want to be the queen.” the words that leave her mouth makes you halt and you immediately let go of her, eyes wide in shock. “You are but a mere third daughter of King Viserys, much more dutiful than your half sister and your elder brother, you are supporting him for the sake of blood, but deep down, you want the iron throne for yourself, don't you?” She speaks and you remain speechless, wondering how she knows everything. “And your younger brother, is now prince regent, though he was born after you, he was still given preference over you to rule as a regent, even as a kinslayer, he is sitting on the throne in your elder brother's stead. Is that not unfair? Had you not done more than him? Especially being a woman?” You continue to remain silent as she speaks, and how correct she is, “I can help you.” She says and you look at her, “My visions will be of use to you, which is the exact reason you will be sparing me.” She finishes talking and by the end of it, it felt as if you had fallen into her carefully woven trap. You thought about it for a mere moment, you could just kill her and be done with it, fight your own battles, but when has anyone conquered their own selfishness, and just like that, you had accepted her help.

“What is your name?” You asked her and she smiled, “Alys rivers.”

Just like that she was spared.

The news had reached King's Landing, where Aemond was ruling as a regent, he successfully managed to seize the throne back to him and executed all of the black's spies in the city, and regained full control over it.

“Harrenhal has now successfully been recaptured by the princess Y/N, though when she had heard of what happened to the city, she was enraged and directed that anger towards the House Strong, she had successfully eliminated the house, no woman, no bastard, no child was to be spared, except only one was spared, a bastard and a wet nurse called Alys Rivers, it seemed that the princess had taken a liking to her.”

Aemond read the letter of report, eyebrows furrowed, he knew how you would be in anger, impulsive and quick, so he was surprised when he heard that you spared someone, but did not think much of it, he came to the conclusion that though your tastes were different, you deserved to have your own spoil of war, so he did not question anything, and allowed you to be as you are.

Meanwhile, as the days passed, you and alys had gotten closer, she told you everything she saw in her visions and you figured how accurate she was, it seemed as though she was given the sight to see into the future.

You sat in your chair, dipping the quill into the ink before writing it down on the parchment paper, writing down reports of the nearby area, trying to note of any suspicious behaviour to immediately correct until your eye landed on a specific report, “Man found dead at the shore of the God's eye river, there were two bite marks on multiple parts of his body, and his flesh was torn as if though he had been ripped apart by a wild beast.” You furrowed your brows, could this be a result of a beast attack? If so, you have to hunt it down before there are any more victims.

Just then the door opened and you saw Alys, who was now walking towards you, holding a tray of tea cups and, “You had been working since the morrow, I had bought some tea.” she placed it down on the table, and you could help but take note of her attire, a low cut neckline, that almost spilled her breasts outside when she leaned down, you cleared your throat and nodded.

It seemed as if she was trying to do that on purpose.

Things quickly moved, and as months passed by, the blacks had slowly lost the war and the news of Aegon's passing had reached your ear, and though you were sad that you had lost a brother, the line to the iron throne cleared by itself, and you felt a sick sense of satisfaction.

As the situation remained stagnant for a while, you had began your search into the beast that was attacking many people, the victims had increased from when you last heard the report, and what you found odd was how whenever you'd ask Alys for the help in this matter, she would avoid it, or not give proper answers.

And so you decided to confirm your suspicions which were gnawing at your gut as you began to place the pieces together and called her to your chambers in the middle of the night.

Which you should've realised was a bad idea.

“You have summoned me? My princess?” She asked, and you rubbed your thighs together, trying to ignore the sense of arousal that was beginning to drip from you whenever you would see her, “Hm? Yes, I wanted to ask you something.” You thickened your voice.

“I have noticed your behaviour whenever I would bring up the beast attackings, you know something don't you?” You question and she remains silent, “No answer, hm.”

“Alys,, do you know a few years ago, I dreamt of a woman with eyes just like yours? Resembling emerald stones, and she was on top of me and bit down into me” you began to tell her randomly and you noticed how her expression changed slightly.

Right on the target.

“And I remember you saying that you had known me, though I thought it was because of your visions, I soon began to put everything together.” You continued.

“You are the beast in question right? The one that sucks blood for living?” You accuse and she swallows thickly, “Do not lie to me, Alys.” You command and she sighs before quickly accepting the accusation. “Yes, it is me, what am I meant to do? It is the only way I can feed myself, normal food makes me want to vomit.” Her tone changes.

“Why not animal blood?” You question and she rolls her eyes, “It isn't as tasty.” she simply says and you are in disbelief, “If you wanna drink from humans, at least don't kill them, do you not have witchful powers? Why not erase their memory?” You suggest, trying to help her out because you did not want to resort to killing immediately, after all, she did help you in a lot of things.

“If I was capable then I would've done it, there is no other way, and it seems I'd have to kill you too now, I cannot let my secret get out, what a shame, I liked you.” She says and comes closer to you, “Why would I tell anyone?” You question and she stops, confused. “It isn't beneficial to me with you gone, I just wanted you to stop killing that's all.” You tell her and she smirks, “So you're not going to be telling anyone?” she asks and you nod, “It would mean loss for me.” You tell her and she bursts out laughing and you stare at her confused.

“My lady, I knew you were always so interesting and unique, but this was far behind my expectations.” She says and comes closer to you, you take a few steps back before the back of your knees hit your bed, causing you to stumble and sit on it.

You stare at Alys as she looks at you from above and you felt as if your bad dream was coming true, her hands trail towards your neck and to the back of your head before she yanks your head backwards by your hair, exposing your neck. You breath heavily as you stare at her and she slowly bares her fags before biting down onto your neck and you gasp, gripping her shoulders, trying to push her away.

She sucks on your blood for a bit before pulling away and you stare at her wide eyed, her fangs now completely out as your blood drips from the side of her mouth. Her pupils look dilated, she wipes away the blood from the back of her hand and pushes you onto the bed completely.

“Alys– I command you to–”

“Hush princess, we both know that you want this. You think I haven't noticed the way you squirm in my presence? Your skirts don't do a good job at hiding the way you rub your thighs.” She shushes you, you stare at her bewildered. She places one knee onto the bed before slowly climbing it, you try to scurry back but she pulls you by your thigh and yanks you closer towards her, now she is face to face with you. Her arms placed on either side of you, trapping you in between her as she leaned further in before she captured your lips with her own.

Heat bloomed through your cheeks as she kissed you, she swiped her tongue on your bottom lip asking for entrance to which you allowed her, she wasted no time before pushing her tongue inside your mouth, intertwining it with your own.

You cringed at the metallic taste of your blood from before, but you didn't pull away and began kissing her back, she moaned into the kiss when she felt you reciprocating her actions, she pulled away and took deep breaths.

“You're so fucking pretty princess.” She kissed your cheek before trailing downwards to your neck and licked the spot which she had bit before and pressed a kiss to it, before going further down and pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

“I know what you want, princess.” She undid the front lace of your gown and slowly pushed it down your shoulders, her eyes darkened as more of your body was revealed to her, she licked her lips at the sight of your breasts as she pulled your gown further down. You lifted your hips and helped her pull it off from you completely.

“Or should I say, My Queen?” You freeze at those words and you immediately stare at her face in shock, “That's treason.” You retort but she smirks, she caresses your cheek with her thumb before she brings it to your lips, pressing gently. “What's treason is your thought of usurping your own brother.” You gulp as she reveals what she knew and you remain silent, not denying it or agreeing with it. She tilts your head upwards before pressing her lips to yours once again.

The kiss gets heated once again, you tug at her gown, indicating that you want her to take it off but she pulls away and pushes your hand away gently, “Uh uh.” she says, denying you. You furrow your brows and are about to say something but you aren't able to get anything out when you feel her cup your cunt.

You watch her shift, travelling downwards your body and stare as she forces your legs wide open. Your heart begins to speed up, anticipation killing you while you observe her.

She presses a kiss to your inner thigh and without a warning, her mouth is latched on to your count which causes you to fall backwards in pleasure. She wastes no time and makes swift strokes with her tongue against your clit, you moan and whimper at her abuse to your cunt, your hand flies to grip her hair when you feel her bite you slightly, you push your hips forward while holding down her face to your cunt. Her arms around your thighs and she slightly lips your hips off the mattress.

Her tongue prods at your entrance and your eyes widen you feel her push it inside you, her nose nuzzling against your clit, she begins to bob her head in and out, fucking you with her tongue. She licks one long stripe up your cunt and latches herself onto your clit again and suckles on it.

This causes heat to bloom in your lower abdomen, making you gasp her name as you feel every inch of your body twitch in pleasure as your high hits you. You ride your orgasm out on her face and she slowly pulls away. Her lips were coated with your essence and she licks it all up, which further arouses you.

You watch through hooded eyes as she kisses up your stomach and stops in between your breasts, she presses a small kiss to the flesh of teat, and soon she's suckling on your nipple like a babe while staring at you.

You could do nothing but just observe, too caught up in the pleasure, you caress her hair which causes her to smirk as she lets go of your breast with a wet pop. She quickly bites down on the flesh of your breast, sinking her fangs in and sucking the blood out.

You grunt in pain but couldn't help but enjoy the slight pleasure you're getting from it. It feels comparable to when you scratch an itch. You breath heavily and you begin to feel light headed as your body finally registering the loss of blood you're experiencing, you slowly begin to lose consciousness but you are pulled away from it with a harsh slap to your cheek, making you come back to your senses as the adrenaline rushes to your brain.

You noticed that she was no longer drinking blood, but was removing her garments, undoing her clothes until she's bare just like you. Your eyes widened at the sight of her body, her pale body seemed to glow on its own.

You try to get up to feel her body but she pushes you down and shifts positions to where she's hovering above your face, you lick your lips staring at her cunt. She holds your head by your forehead before slowly descending down onto your mouth and you immediately welcome her clasping onto her.

She gasps as you work your tongue against her cunt, “Good girl.” She praises you and you clench your thighs at the praise, aroused by it. It doesn't go unnoticed by her as she chuckles.

“Who knew that the future queen gets aroused at merely being called a good girl?” She ponders mockingly and you freeze at what she had revealed. “Why did you stop?” She begins grinding herself against your face. “Is it because I had revealed that you'd be the future queen?” She asks and you wrap your arms around her thighs as a way to say yes.

“Hmm.. Yes, I'll only reveal more if you put your tongue to work.”

You did not need to hear more and you immediately began putting your tongue to work, flicking it up and down against her clit before sucking on it, the act is making you aroused yourself so you unwrap one of your hands from her thigh and take it down to your cunt, rubbing on the clitoris.

“I've seen it in my dreams.” She begins, slowly humping against your face, “You, donning the conqueror's crown, seated on the iron throne.” you imagined it and that only got you more aroused, you pushed a finger inside your cunt and began to pump it, in and out.

Alys whimpered when you clamped down on her clit, desperately sucking on it. “Yours will be the song of ice and fire.” She tells you and your eyes widen, at the very same moment she reaches her peak and finishes with a loud moan, you peak simultaneously as well.

She rides out her peak but all you can think about was what she had revealed, you felt elevated, combined with everything, you felt as though you were floating.

You watch as she gets off your face and sits next to you, you still lay there, processing and imagining it, “Will you be by my side?” You ask her, before slowing getting up, hair dishevelled as her juices coated your chin.

“Of course, who would father your children then?” Her words make you furrow your brows, “How? We're both women? that sounds illogical.” You try to reason and she smirks, “Do not fret about these things, I have my ways to do it.” She tells you and you nod, brushing it off.

You've seen many things that didn't make sense, having a child with her may as well be possible.

You knew whatever Alys had said would come true, and they did all come true, though it cost your brother's life, you did not feel an ounce of guilt as you slayed him with your own hands, deeming you a kinslayer, though the curse did not matter to you, cause you would be the ruler of the seven kingdoms for ages to come.

— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡