#Peaches the song sucks

[troll-yaoi-war-veteran]

[skyburger]

me when im in a introducing myself contest circa october 1973 and my opponent is steve miller

[hoodie-prince-kid]

The best part of the Mario movie was the soundtrack, Toad, and that single Shy Guy noise.

[ariestrxsh]

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, public teasing, public punishment, blowjob, degradation, humiliation, use of blindfold, use of restraints, spitting, light slapping, light choking, fingering, pussy slapping, dacryphilia, use of sex toys in public, exhibitionism/voyeurism, mean!roughdom!chris, mean!roughdom!matt, brattysub!reader

🖤 summary: 🖤 after capitalizing off of a chance to tease chris and matt, making them both cum on stream and nearly humiliate them in front of their fans, they retaliate against you and give you a taste of your own medicine.

🖤 this fic name/song was inspired/requested by this ask and the concept was inspired/requested by this ask 💖 this is only the first part, and there will be multiple parts to this story. just a heads up, it gets rougher.

peaches & eggplants part one 💖

You knew Chris and Matt were going to punish you for what you were about to do, but you just couldn't wait until they were done streaming. They were both perched at the edge of their seats in front of the monitor while Matt played fortnite and Chris watched, arguing amongst each other while a naughty idea crossed your mind.

The viewers weren't supposed to know you were in the room with them, so you hung back out of view of the camera. The nice thing about this was Matt and Chris couldn't stop you without drawing attention to you, and you knew they wouldn't do that, and with Nick still out of the country, you could practically get away with anything temporarily.

You stayed out of sight from the audience while you got on your hands and knees and stealthily crawled across the floor until you were under the desk between Matt's legs. He and Chris were both in grey sweatpants, and they knew how mad it drove you whenever they'd wear them.

You peered up at the two brothers above you, both sets of eyes fixed on the screen, blissfully unaware of what you had up your sleeve. Your red-painted fingernails gently brushed over the bulge in Matt's sweats, alerting him to your presence, and he looked down at you under the desk with a shocked expression on his face.

He quickly pulled his gaze back to Fortnite and tried to act like everything was normal, but he gently swatted away at your hand, a lazy attempt to get you to cut it out. You persisted, tugging at the waistband until Matt's member sprung out from behind the cotton fabric.

This sudden movement tipped off Chris to your mischevious plan to get one - or both - of them off while on stream with thousands of people. Chris stared down at you in disbelief as you wrapped your hand around Matt's already half-hard cock and started playing with it while you innocently looked into his eyes, nibbling on your lower lip.

He clenched his jaw, giving you a flash of contempt, and you batted your eyelashes at him as if to silently say, "Oh, what? You're mad at little old me?"

Chris couldn't take his eyes off of the way you skillfully stroked Matt's length, and the audience started to notice the shift in the energy.

"What do you guys think they're looking at?" One fan asked. "What's under the desk?" Someone else typed into the chat.

Matt thanked a few people who gifted while trying to remain composed, but you made that incredibly difficult when you wrapped your lips around him and started gently sucking on the tip, making him fully erect.

Chris stared down in awe at the way you teased his brother, secretly wishing he could feel your mouth. Matt started playing badly due to the distraction in the room, but other than that, he did a decent job at acting nonchalant.

That was until you made his entire rod disappear behind your lips, the head lightly tickling the back of your throat. He threw his head back and let out a sigh but tried to play it off as a reaction to his character dying in the game.

Matt peeked down every few seconds to steal a glance at the way you looked nearly swallowing him whole. He secretly loved having you do such an intimate thing while trying to keep it a secret from thousands of people.

You furiously pumped your hand back and forth while you bobbed up on and down on Matt's length, and he placed his hand over his mouth to suppress the sounds he so desperately wanted to make and to conceal the way he was gnawing through his bottom lip.

Before he could get too close, you took your attention away from Matt and made your way between Chris' legs. He intently watched you with his eager, blue eyes and even lifted his hips for you to help get his sweats off. He relished in the sensation of your soft, pink lips engulfing his member, your tongue swirling around on his mushroom-shaped tip, and your hand massaging his shaft.

Since he was just watching Matt play Fortnite, he was able to let his hands wander. He combed his fingers through your hair and placed his palm on the back of your head, encouraging you to take him deeper. You looked up at him with your big, hungry eyes while you quietly gagged on his cock.

You took him out of your mouth, kneeling down beneath the two of them while you stroked them both at the same time. The two brothers did their best to hold it together and keep their eyes on the screen, but you just looked so good teasing them that they couldn't properly focus.

A few more suspecting people spoke up in the chat. "What does Chris keep looking at?"

"Why is Chris smiling down at his lap?"

"Wonder why Matt is playing so badly. They should play DTI."

You continued pumping your hands back and forth, seeing which of them you could make cum first, like it was a game. Both of their swollen tips stared back at you, leaking a pretty, pearlescent substance. Simultaneously, both of their cocks began twitching against your palms, and they each erupted, blowing their loads into your hands while they each let out a satisfied sigh.

Thankfully, Matt's character died once more at the same time they both finished, so given the context, most of the audience misconstrued their sounds as disappointment. But a few chats came through, speculating.

"Why did that sound so...?"

"That's how I'm trying to make them sound."

As their thick, white fluids coated both of your hands, Matt and Chris said their goodbyes to the chat. "We have a persistent problem we need to go take care of," Chris stated, glancing down at you before ending the stream.

You knew you were in for it, and you didn't know in which way they would punish you, but a mixture of excitement and nervousness flooded your system once the camera was off.

"You like being a naughty little whore, huh? Making me and my brother cum on stream together?" Matt inquired, giving you a serious look. "Yeah, you like making a fool out of us? Couldn't wait til we were done, you desperate little slut?" Chris smirked down at you.

"You know, Chris. I think we should give her a taste of her own medicine," Matt declared, looking over at his brother. "I think that's the best idea you've ever had, Matt. Needy little whore should know how it feels to try to hold it together while having an audience," Chris replied, reaching under the desk and dragging you out from under it.

"Go be a good girl for once, go wash off your hands, and put on your prettiest dress for us, hmm?" Matt requested. You nodded and did as he said while Matt and Chris changed out of their cum soaked sweats and into nice outfits as well.

They both put on white tank top, jeans, and flannels, and when they emerged from their bedrooms, Matt was holding a pair of handcuffs, and Chris had a bandana in his hand. You were in a simple black dress and red heels that matched your manicured nails, and they both looked you up and down while they came up behind you.

"It's better if you don't fight back, princess," Matt whispered into your ear while he closed the handcuffs down around your wrists. "Yeah, we're just gonna take you somewhere real nice. That's all," Chris whispered into your other ear while he blindfolded you with the bandana.

Your mind explored the possibilities while the two brothers each grabbed one of your arms, yanking you around and leaving red marks on your flesh while they forced you out to the car and practically threw you into the back seat.

Matt got into the driver's seat, and you heard the familiar sound of the key turning in the ignition and the engine turning over while you felt Chris get into the back seat with you. The car started moving, and you had no idea where the three of you were going, but the unknown intrigued you, and you felt a warm, wet sensation forming between your legs.

This was made worse when Chris grabbed ahold of your face with his rough, veiny hands, forced open your jaw, and stuck his long fingers into your mouth. "You've been a bad little girl," Chris taunted you while you sucked on his fingers. He relished in how soft and wet your pretty little mouth felt.

Once he removed his digits from your throat, he delivered a few swift smacks across your face. "Can't wait to punish you, darling," Chris growled, his warm breath on your earlobe. Chris dug in between your legs and started poking and prodding around your pink folds.

"Oh, naughty girl. You're so wet," Chris gasped, slipping his fingers into your heat and curling them until he hit your gspot. You whimpered against Chris' chest while he pentetrated you hard and fast, telling you what a naughty girl you were for liking it so much.

Before he could draw an orgasm out of you, he withdrew his fingers, and you could hear him licking them clean, accompanied by a primal groaning sound while he savored your taste. He then shoved his digits back into your mouth, filling your tastebuds with your own flavor and his saliva.

"Like the way you taste, pretty girl?" Chris cooed. "Mhmmm," you whined while he finger-fucked your throat, making you gag some more before removing them.

"You make such pretty sounds when I use you," Chris whispered, wrapping his bony fingers around your throat and choking you while he shook you around, and when you opened your mouth to take a breath, he spit in it. He smiled at the way you swallowed it for him.

You couldn't get enough of the way Chris handled you, treating you like a little doll that was made solely for his pleasure. Tears started to roll down your cheeks while Chris cut off your air flow. "Aw, little baby's gonna cry? I'll give you something to cry about," Chris taunted you.

You felt the car stop, and you heard Matt say from the front seat, "I'll be right back. Make sure she doesn't misbehave any more than she already has."

Chris reached underneath your dress, taking off your panties and he shoved them into your mouth while he admired your sweet, wet pussy. He started exploring the delicate folds with his fingers, teasing your slit, and rubbing your sensitive clit.

"If you're gonna be a little slut, I'm gonna treat you just like one," Chris told you, and without warning, his hand came down hard as he slapped your pretty little cunt, making it even more swollen. You jumped and squealed as more tears ran down your cheeks, pleasure and pain creating a wonderful concoction in your system.

You weren't sure how public of a place Matt had parked in, but it excited you to think about your pussy on display for anyone who walked by the car to see while you were in such a compromised position. More tears streamed down your face, and Chris taunted you some more. "Gonna cry for me?" He asked teasingly, slapping your pussy some more.

Finally, Matt came back to the car. "Oh, good. You already got her panties off of her?" Matt smiled down at you, fiddling with the package he'd just bought while he admired your swollen, puffy lips between your legs from the way Chris played rough with you. Your mind swirled with excitement about what they were going to do to you.

"Put these on her," Matt demanded, handing Chris something. Suddenly, you felt Chris slipping something onto your bottom half that seemed to be a pair of underwear, but not the ones you came here with that were crammed into your mouth.

"You have to download an app to control them," Matt told Chris, looking at the directions on the package. What were they talking about? Before much longer, you felt a buzzing sensation against your clit, and you started to squirm and whine. Vibrating panties?

"It's working," Chris said, reaching between your legs to feel the vibration. "Alright, princess. Let's go," Matt called back to you from the front seat as he pulled out of the parking lot.

Chris continued to manhandle you while he teased you with the vibrating underwear, playing with the settings to see how you'd react to them. He took your supple breasts out of your dress and lightly pinched your nipples between his teeth, causing them to stiffen.

Your moans were distorted by the fact that the underwear were still stuffed in your mouth, and Chris graciously removed them for you once you felt the car slow. When it came to a full stop, Chris was unlocking the cuffs and untying the bandana you had wrapped around your head, and when you saw the two boys in front of you, they were smirking and chuckling at you.

Matt threw your purse at you and said, "Fix your hair and your makeup. You look like a cheap slut." You cleaned up your running mascara, touched up your eyeliner that had been rubbed away, and reapplied your smeared red lipstick. You had just finished smoothing out your stray hairs when you peered up from the little mirror in your hand and realized you were in the parking lot of a fancy Italian restaurant.

"Fuck," you whispered, realizing what this meant. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" Matt asked you in a fake sympathetic tone as it dawned on you. "Yeah, what's the matter, baby? You don't want us to make you cum with those little vibrating panties while we eat dinner in this crowded restaurant?" Chris chuckled at you. You looked at both of the boys wide-eyed and gulped. "What? You can dish it, but you can't take it?" Matt asked.

The three of you got out of the car. As you started walking toward the entrance, Chris turned the vibrating underwear back onto the first setting, and he watched you nearly stumble. They laughed at you, and Chris mimicked the way you almost tripped, making them laugh harder.

"Okay, princess. Now just tell them we need a table for three," Matt told you as you guys started to make your way through the door. They let you lead the way and approach the hostess stand, but right as you opened your mouth to speak, Chris turned the panties up a setting. Your breath caught in your throat, and your eyebrows furrowed, but you managed to get out the words, "Table for three, please." The hostess gave you a weird look but led you guys to a booth towards the back.

There were a few tables around where you guys sat, and you surveyed the people sitting at them, wondering if they had any idea they were getting dinner and a show. Chris and Matt sat next to each other across from you, and the hostess told you guys your server would be with you in just a moment.

Once you got into the booth, you crossed your legs to muffle the sound of the vibrating, but having your thighs squeezed together made the sensation feel more intense. Both Chris and Matt peered up at you from their menus, smirking. "Look at how pathetic she looks. She can barely keep it together," Chris said as you slouched down in your seat and bit your lip to keep a whimper from escaping.

There was a secret part of you that loved being teased in such a public place, but you still would have been mortified if anyone had found out what the three of you were up to. You sat up straight in your seat when the server came back to grab drink orders. Chris ordered a Pepsi, of course, Matt, a water, and you requested a peach bellini.

You figured if you were going to be humiliated and get your rocks off in a restaurant full of people, you might as well get drunk while doing it.

When the waiter asked to see your ID, you reached into your purse with a trembling hand, retrieved it, and slid it over towards him on the table. "Thank you, Miss," he said, studying the photo and your facial features to make sure they matched up. He slid it back over to you and walked away to go fetch your drinks.

Before you could pick it up at put it back in your purse, Chris reached over and snatched it away from you, looking at your driver's license photo that you hated of yourself. "I don't know, Matt. She had to show this horrible picture of herself to our waiter. That might be humiliation enough," Chris meanly joked. Matt chuckled along and rolled his eyes.

You stood up and went to grab it from Chris, but he pulled it back. "Hey. Don't bite the hand that feeds you. Or the hand that's controlling your vibrating panties right now," Chris said in a low, serious voice. Then he took your ID and flung it at you. It landed in your lap, and you scooped it up and tossed it back into your bag.

Matt and Chris stared at you lustfully and hungrily as you tried to hold it together while Chris played around with the different levels, alternating between the first three. Every time you looked like you were holding it together too well, he'd turn it up a notch, and any time your legs started to shake, and your eyes rolled back into your head while you gripped the fabric of the booth beneath you, he'd turn it down.

The server returned to take your food order, and the boys agreed upon bruschetta as an appetizer. Chris ordered himself chicken alfredo, and Matt ordered chicken parmigiano. When the server got to you, you cleared your throat, sat up taller, and tried to ignore the way you were being broken down slowly by the powerful sensation between your legs that was being controlled by the two gorgeous men across from you.

"I'll have the eggplant parmigiano, please," you managed to say, looking almost completely normal besides your flushed face and the bead of sweat that formed on your brow. The server took your menus and told you he'd return shortly with your drinks.

"Let me see it," Matt said to Chris, reaching for his phone. Chris handed it off to him, and Matt looked at you intently with a devilish grin as he kicked it up to level four. You slouched over onto the table and buried your head in your hands, completely unable to hide the pleasure written into your expression.

You peered back up at Matt with the neediest look in your eye, and your lips slightly parted while you started to tremble again. Matt shut off the vibration completely and watched the disappointed look come across your face as he ruined your orgasm. "You think I'd let you cum right away? After that shit you pulled earlier. Nah, you've been a naughty girl," Matt murmured, turning it back on to level one.

The waiter brought over your drinks, and you weakly smiled at him as he walked away. Matt turned the vibrator up a setting as an older lady made eye contact with you, and you sputtered on your alcoholic drink as you took a big sip. She shot you a dirty look as you rolled your eyes back into the back of your head and bit down on your lip.

You knew you weren't being sneaky, but you couldn't help the way you were being manipulated by two boys, a pair of vibrating underwear, and a remote control app.

The server made his way back again, bringing the bruschetta out on his way to greet another table that had just been sat in the section. You took another sip of your bellini, preparing for the night to be long and embarrassing.

Chris and Matt both indulged in the appetizer, obnoxiously licking the balsamic glaze from their fingers and making animalistic sounds while they made eye contact with you. They knew what they were doing, and it was working. Your mind wandered, imagining how they'd lick their digits clean after fingering you, much like Chris had earlier on during the ride to the restaurant.

"Naughty girl, keep your mind out of the gutter," Chris replied, sucking on his finger, smirking, and narrowing his eyes as if he was inside your head, and in a way, he was. You picked up your bellini glass with a shaky hand and took another big drink.

The waiter came back around to check out refills, and when he asked if you'd like another one, motioning towards your nearly empty glass, Matt turned the setting up another notch, and without thinking, you grabbed onto the waiter's arm, practically whimpering, "Yes please."

He gave you a confused look and gently tugged his arm away from you. "Sorry. She gets a little touchy when she's tipsy," Chris apologized for you, and the waiter brushed it off and walked away.

Matt and Chris both made fun of how you were unable to hold up any kind of facade, and they decided to cut you some slack for a bit, so you could enjoy your food when it came out. The waiter delivered your meals and another round of drinks for you all while you tried to catch your breath and dabbed the sweat from your face.

You were about half-way through your plate and halfway done with your second fruity, bubbly beverage before Chris took his phone back from his brother and started turning on the panties again. You looked at them both and all you could think about was how badly you wanted them to use all your holes when you guys got home, and a few needy whines passed through your pretty lips.

The waiter came back around to ask if you guys were enjoying your food, and all you could do in response was tell him, "It's sooo good," in a sultry voice while you peered up at him with desire in your eyes and bit down on your knuckles to suppress another moan. He gave you an inquisitive look and then looked toward the boys sitting across from you, asking if you guys wanted to order anything else after your meals.

"We'd love to all share the classic vanilla ice cream, please," Chris told the waiter, and then he smirked up at you, knowing how torturous it was going to be for you to hold it together through dessert, too. The server nodded and walked off to go update the bill.

You tried to finish your food and your drink while you tried to seem as put together as possible. Chris played with the settings again, bringing you as close to orgasm as he could before yanking it away from you and repeating this while you pathetically writhed in the booth across from him.

A few people who were sitting around you guys started to catch on. Some of them gave you disgusted looks and tried to ignore what you and the boys were doing. Some couldn't keep their eyes off you, hungrily looking you up and down as they silently prayed they'd get to watch you come undone in the restaurant.

The server returned with the ice cream and three spoons, and he bussed the dishes out of your way. Chris turned up the vibrating panties to the highest setting. "Have some ice cream, princess," Chris whispered, handing you a spoon.

Hell, you were already indulging in a form of public sex, indulging in good food and alcohol, and so you might as well complete the hedonist trifecta and indulge in sugar as well.

With a trembling hand, you grabbed the handle and got a small scoop of ice cream, and stuck it into your mouth. "Mmmm," you moaned, which was partially a response to the taste and partially a response to the frequencies buzzing against your sensitive cunt.

"I sure do love ice cream," Chris declared, getting a spoonful of it and making sure to suggestively lick his utensil clean while he looked in your eyes. "I love eating it and licking it up," Chris moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head, taunting you.

Matt followed, seductively lapping up the dessert. He looked directly at you while he dragged his tongue across the spoon in a long, slow lick.

As you imagined how their tongues would feel manipulating your pussy, your orgasm tore through you with incredible force. It took everything in you to conceal the reaction your body was having, and it was impossible to be completely subtle.

Your legs shook involuntarily as you held them crossed together tightly, and you grabbed onto the booth seat to anchor yourself while your climax crashed over you like a wave, eager to sweep you away in its current. You furrowed your brows, closed your eyes, and a few loud moans escaped your lips while your orgasm took its course.

When you opened your eyes, almost everyone around you was staring at you, including the waiter who had dropped off the check while you were in the midst of enjoying yourself.

"Let's go before someone calls the cops and reports us for public indecency," Chris smirked at you guys, tossing a few hundred dollar bills on the table, giving the server an extra big tip for having to put up with your guys' shenanigans, and the three of you fled the restaurant.

High on adrenaline, you guys piled into the car and peeled out of the parking lot.

"I hope you guys didn't like that restaurant too much, because I don't think we could ever go back. They'll probably put a picture up of our faces in the front like they do with dine and dashers," Matt chuckled from the driver's seat.

"More like dine and smash," Chris joked, and the three of you burst into hysterical laughter.

After the snickering died down, Chris let out a huge sigh and unbuttoned his jeans, pulling out his big, hard dick. Your jaw dropped, and your mouth widened as you watched it practically jump out of his pants.

He wrapped his arm around you and pushed your head down, lowering your mouth onto his cock and whispered in a demanding tone, "We're not done with you yet, whore. Don't just think that 'cause we're laughing, you're done receiving your punishment."

part two coming soon 💖

taglist: @bsturnzmtt @sturniolo-girl @munchingmini @butterbean-01 @coolasice01 @theyluvme-2315 @zariyam @brookiecookie-18 @maggot3647 @slut4chriztopher @strnlslvr @sleepysturniolo @lvrsturniolo @sofieeeeex @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @matts-myloverboy @mattsfavbigtitties @new2024cats4life @witchofthehour @slutforsturniolosss @sturniolosweetheart33 @whoahoahoahoahoa @ilovechrissturniolosposts @smt-obsessed @sturnioloxlver @that1fangirll @hrtz4alex2211 @luvhsien @sp3ncerslvt @sturniolo-munch44 @jakewebberswifee @karttpet @ssturnioloos @thenickgurl @sturniolo-fann @sst7niolo @slxtformatt @chestersturniolo @riowritesitall @camzeecorner @mattsturnixlo @annedebeijer @scorpioosworld @mynameisuser834 @mattlover-00 @sweetlikesug4rvenom @m11rx @sturniolocharms @mickelodeon-2003 @sigmarizzler1

[theostrophywife]

the crush theory.

pairing: lorenzo berkshire x reader.

song inspiration: london boy by taylor swift.

author’s note: this is just a cute indulgent coffee shop! au with my sweetheart enzo. majorly inspired by all the boyfriend vibes louis has been serving with miss olivia lately. let’s not even talk about the ass grab with his big hands and rings…🫣

Enzo Berkshire never quite managed to master the language of love. 

Despite being a polyglot and a linguistics major, romance remained a complete mystery to him. It wasn't like he could craft a conjugation chart to help him not make a fool of himself in front of the girl of his dreams. When it came to matters of the heart, Enzo often found himself at a loss for words. Perhaps that was the reason why he never mustered up the courage to speak to you. 

Until that one fateful fall morning. 

The kiss of autumn arrived on campus a few weeks into the semester, freeing the city from the grips of the summer heat and bringing with it the changing of leaves and the distinct scent of cinnamon and apples. Enzo shoved his hands into the pockets of his burnt orange corduroy trousers and savored the sound of the jewel toned leaves crunching underneath his loafers. As the wind picked up, he wrapped his chunky knit cardigan tighter around himself to shield against the chilly breeze. 

The ivy covered brick buildings and cobblestone streets faded into the background as he walked past the quad. Deja Brew, the little hole in the wall cafe that Enzo frequented, greeted him like an old friend. The coffee shop was located on the outskirts of campus and was only a short walk from his dorm, which made it the ideal place to conduct his tutoring sessions. Not only was it convenient, but the cozy and quiet ambience provided the perfect setting for Enzo to teach his fellow struggling students. 

As time went on, the choice of location became less about convenience and more about catching a glimpse of you—the surly barista that worked the morning shift. For the past few months, Enzo developed a rather embarrassing crush on you. There was something about your scowl and no bullshit attitude that drew him to you like a moth to a flame. Though in his case, Enzo was perfectly content to hover a safe distance from the proverbial light of your fancy French cigarette lest he get burned. 

Upon first glance, anyone would have been intimidated by you. With your faded band tees, ripped jeans, and scuffed leather boots, Enzo was well aware that a girl like you would never be interested in a bloke who's wardrobe consisted of sweaters with elbow patches, floral print button downs, and neatly pressed pleated trousers. Needless to say, you were way too cool for him. 

Enzo was resigned to merely admiring you from afar, but fate seemed to have other ideas. The bell above the door tinkled softly as he made his way into Deja Brew only to stop dead in his tracks when he spotted you at the register. Usually, you were behind the bar manning the espresso machine during the early morning rush, but not today.

Today, you were front and center. 

Part of him considered walking out the door, but given the fact that the shop was nearly empty, a hasty exit would definitely not go unnoticed. Enzo had no choice but to suck it up and approach the register with resignation. The minute he opened his mouth, he was sure he’d muck things up. 

Enzo swallowed thickly and pushed his round framed glasses further up the bridge of his nose; a nervous habit he developed when he was younger. The erratic beat of his heart echoed in Enzo’s ears as his gaze flickered up to your face, expecting to be greeted with a frown. To his surprise, your lips curved into a small smile once you spotted him. 

“Lemon balm tea with two pumps of peach syrup and a dollop of honey, right?” 

Enzo blinked at the melodious sound of your voice, nearly missing the fact that you’d recited his exact order, which shouldn’t have been surprising given the fact that you’ve been making it for him for months. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a little warm inside as you looked at him expectantly. He stared in stunned silence for a moment. 

You furrowed your brow in doubt. “Did I get that wrong?” 

“No, no, it’s right. It’s great. It’s perfect—“ Enzo cleared his throat, mentally kicking himself for rambling. “I’m just surprised that you remembered it.” 

“Of course I remember it, you’re one of my regulars. I’d be a pretty shit barista if I forgot your order.” You cocked your head, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, do you want your croissant warmed up, Lorenzo?” 

“You know my name?” 

Enzo hadn’t meant to sound so starstruck, but hearing his name come out of your mouth made his heart skip a beat.

“And your social security number too,” you deadpanned. Enzo’s eyes widened, which made you chuckle. “I’m just having a laugh. I promise I won’t commit identity theft against you. Unless you piss me off.” 

You accompanied the statement with a cheeky wink, which only made Enzo even more nervous. 

"Don't look so nervous, peach. I swear I don't bite."

“Right. Sure. Of course,” he stammered. “The tea and the croissant sounds good, Y/N.” The realization that you’ve never told him your name came a beat too late. “It’s on your chest. The name tag, I mean. I wasn’t just staring at your chest. Though I’m sure it’s very nice. Bloody hell, I’ll stop talking now.” 

Enzo cringed at himself, but eased when you laughed. “You’re a strange bloke, Lorenzo.” You said as you began making his drink. “But I’ve got to admit, it’s oddly charming.” 

He chuckled, trying to hide the flush coloring his cheeks. “That seems to be my sweet spot.” 

"As sweet as peaches," you retorted as you added two pumps of peach syrup into his tea. "You'll have to excuse the fruit references. Before I knew your name, I referred to you solely as the peach guy."

"Is that good or bad?"

Enzo hiked his backpack over his shoulder and meandered down the end of the counter where you were topping off his tea with a dollop of honey. You swirled it into a heart pattern before sliding the warm cup into a sleeve. 

"Well, I've never met anyone who's preferred drink could constitute as a dessert, so it's certainly something. You're an enigma, Lorenzo," you said thoughtfully. "Though I think I like peach better. You don't really strike me as a Lorenzo."

“You can call me Enzo. I prefer it over my full name. It sounds so stuffy.” 

“We certainly can’t have that,” you said with a smirk. “Enzo. I like it. It’s rather becoming. Not stuffy at all.” He chuckled as you handed him a brown bag. "I might still call you peach from time to time. Force of habit. You understand, right?"

"Of course," Enzo replied. "El loro viejo no aprende a hablar."

"You kiss your mum with that mouth, peach?"

Enzo flushed. "It's Spanish for the old parrot does not learn to talk. Basically their equivalent of you can't teach an old dog new tricks." He shifted his weight onto his other foot. "What I'm trying to say is, I don't mind if you call me peach or Enzo or whatever else you'd like."

"You're giving me way too much freedom, Enzo. I intend on taking full advantage." You winked as you slid his drink over to him. “Enjoy your croissant. I put a little something extra in there for you.” 

Enzo peered into the bag and saw an extra pastry wrapped in black cellophane next to his croissant. The brownie didn’t look like any of the ones behind the counter, which meant that it was probably homemade. Strange, he wouldn’t have pegged you for a baker. 

“Oh, you really don’t have to—” 

“Nonsense,” you countered, waving off his protests. “Really, you’d be doing me a favor. It’s an experimental recipe of mine, which makes you my guinea pig. As payment, I expect a full report on the brownie tomorrow morning. Don’t hold back either, peach. I want a brutally honest review.”

“I’m sure it’ll be great,” Enzo said in reassurance. “In any case, your guinea pig will take ample notes.” 

“That would be much appreciated,” you said with a serious nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Enzo-not-Lorenzo.”

Enzo couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

Enzo rubbed his temples, willing the headache forming behind his eyes to vanish. Unfortunately for him, his last tutoring session with Flint seemed to have left a permanent mark. While Enzo usually enjoyed teaching French, Marcus was proving to be a rather difficult case. Not only was Flint unwilling to do the work, the knobhead also spent the entire session leering at you instead of studying the conjugation chart that Enzo poured his blood, sweat, and tears on. 

“Merlin, I have no idea how you deal with rich, smarmy arseholes all day.” 

Enzo looked up to find you seated across the table, sliding a sandwich, a fruit cup, and a bag of crisps towards him without missing a beat. He hadn’t even realized it was already an hour past lunch until his stomach grumbled at the sight of food.

“One could argue that I’m also a rich, smarmy arsehole,” Enzo countered, picking up a grape and popping it into his mouth with a slight smile. “Yet you seem to have no problems dealing with me.” 

“Yes, well, everyone knows I’m just using you for your body. Specifically, your taste buds.” Enzo shook his head in amusement before taking a bite out of the sandwich. Peanut butter and jelly, his favorite. “Besides, how else am I supposed to learn new insults in different languages if I hadn’t met you? Speaking of which, I believe I’m completely justified in saying that Flint is a total gehirnverweigerer.”

“Marcus isn’t so bad. He just needs a bit of a push,” Enzo replied rather unconvincingly. 

“If by a push you mean my boot against his arse, then I wholeheartedly agree.” 

“The French have this saying, petit à petit, l’oiseau fait son nid. In English, it roughly translates to: little by little, the bird builds its nest.” 

“Except Flint isn’t a bird, he’s a twat,” you deadpanned. “The bloke was too busy staring at my arse to even pick up a lick of French. To think, you even made this cute little chart and everything. You have the patience of a saint, Enz.” 

“One of us has to,” Enzo replied as he tore open the bag of wotsits. “Given your proclivity to violence.” 

“Don’t make me take your crisps away, Lorenzo.” 

Shielding his wotsits from your vengeful wrath, Enzo flashed you a saccharine smile. For good measure, he even batted his pretty honey eyes at you. The audacity. “Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite person in the whole entire world?” 

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Berkshire. Now finish your lunch or else I’ll be very cross with you.” 

Enzo smiled to himself, wondering at the fact you were complete strangers until a few weeks ago. Ever since you gifted him with the best brownie he’s ever tasted in his entire life, he became your designated taste tester. Every morning, Enzo would start his day off with his usual lemon tea and whatever new pastry recipe you had chosen to tackle that week. Between the scones and muffins, Enzo learned that you intended on opening your own bakery after uni. Hence, his very important role of reviewing your recipes. 

Granted, Enzo didn’t know how much of a help he actually was given the fact that he thought everything you made was amazing. Still, the novelty of finding a fresh pastry in his bag with a handwritten note from you never failed to brighten his morning. Especially since you signed each one with a crimson kiss print that made him blush every time he laid his eyes upon it. It was safe to say his crush had only gotten worse the more he got to know you. 

As you settled behind the counter to help with the afternoon rush, Enzo attempted to get some work done before classes started for the day. With finals fast approaching, he was caught up on making sure he had everything in order. It wasn’t until Enzo heard a familiar voice when he finally tore his gaze away from his laptop screen. 

Enzo froze as he watched one of his best mates saunter up to the counter. Even from his seat by the window, he could tell that Mattheo was flirting with you. In hindsight, his friend seemed exactly like the type of guy you would go for. The broody bad boy who probably listened to all the obscure bands that you often talked to him about. As Mattheo directed his smoldering gaze at you, Enzo thought he might be violently ill. 

Squinting across the coffee shop, Enzo angrily shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers in an attempt to keep himself from strangling his curly headed friend. 

In a tone that was at least an octave deeper than his regular voice, Mattheo drawled a question at you. “What’s good here?” 

You stared at him pointedly before waving a hand towards the menu. “There’s coffee, there’s pastries. It’s really not rocket science.”

The deadpan delivery combined with the utterly unenthused expression on your face nearly made Enzo snort out loud. It might’ve been an arsehole move to rejoice at Mattheo’s fumble, but he found it immensely satisfying that you seemed to be immune to the infamous Riddle charm. 

“A bit feisty today aren’t we, love? I just wanted to see what the pretty lady behind the counter recommends.” 

Enzo watched in amusement as you slipped on your signature scowl, the one that made him fall for you in the first place. “The pretty lady recommends that you stop holding up the line so she can get to the other customers who actually know what they want.” 

Hiding his smirk, Enzo feigned surprise as a dejected Mattheo plopped down across from him. “Merlin, that was brutal. Is the barista always this mean? I complimented her pins and she stared at me like I’d grown an extra head.” 

“Y/N isn’t really a people person,” Enzo supplied. 

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo tapped his fingers on the counter. “Let’s just get to class before I embarrass myself any further.”

“That’s probably for the best,” replied Enzo. 

Ignoring Mattheo’s glare, Enzo packed up his laptop and put his tray away. He followed his mate through the throng of people, which had thinned out once more. They were a few steps away from the door when you called out his name. With a raised brow, you held out a pink box. Enzo smiled sheepishly in return. He couldn’t believe he’d almost forgotten the dessert of the day. 

“One lemon berry scone. Less tart, per your critique last week.” He took the box from your hands, blushing furiously when your fingers brushed against his. “Have a good class, peach.” 

“Thanks, Y/N. I’ll have your full report ready tomorrow.” 

“You better.” Enzo nearly dropped the box when you winked at him. “Later, Berkshire.” 

Smiling to himself, Enzo came face to face with a gaping Mattheo. “For Salazar’s sake, it’s like I don’t even exist.” He muttered before breaking out into a grin. “No wonder my moves had no effect. Mate, she obviously fancies you.” 

Enzo’s cheeks immediately heated as he pushed out into the quad. “What? No. Y/N and I are just really good friends.” 

“Now I understand why you come here so often,” Mattheo remarked. “If the mean hot barista plied me with baked goods and called me peach, I’d be coming here every day.” 

“It's an inside joke about my drink order..." Enzo tried to explain. "The point is, Y/N isn’t mean. She’s actually really nice.” 

“Yeah, because she likes you.” 

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Does too.” Mattheo countered. “Why else would she bake you a scone?” 

“She wants to own a bakery someday. Obviously, that means she needs someone to test her recipes out on,” Enzo explained. “It’s how we became friends.” 

“Right,” Mattheo said with a shit eating grin. “Friends.” 

Enzo rolled his eyes. “Can we just please get to class?” 

“Whatever you say, peach.” 

“I have a theory,” Mattheo announced. 

Enzo sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Not this again, mate.” 

The rest of their friends perked up, abandoning their laptop screens and textbooks in favor of the newest piece of gossip. The little corner of the library that their group had claimed was fairly quiet, which was supposed to be optimal for revising, but Mattheo couldn’t seem to let his conspiracy theory go. He'd been badgering Enzo about it for a week.

“Berkshire here refuses to believe me, but I have it on good authority that Y/N has a crush on him. 

“Y/N,” Theo started, “You mean his mean barista friend? She’s proper fit.” 

“Don’t call her fit,” Enzo replied rather defensively. 

“A little touchy there, Berkshire.” Regulus said with a chuckle. “Is that jealousy I sense?” 

“For the millionth time, Y/N and I are just friends.” 

“Is that the same friend that makes all those tasty pastries for you?” Draco asked with a raised brow. “I’ve seen the cute little notes she leaves for you posted all around your dorm. With the adorable kiss prints and hearts. Seems to me like Mattheo’s right. Y/N’s sweet on you, cousin.” 

“Do me a favour and stop being a snooping twat, cousin.” Enzo retorted with a frown. “Y/N’s just being nice. It’s what friends do.”

“None of my mates have ever gone out of their way to bake me a bloody thing,” Blaise declared in feigned offense as he wrapped an arm around Pansy. 

“Yes, well, none of your mates even know where the oven is located, let alone how to operate it,” replied his girlfriend. Pansy smiled at Enzo. “Besides, I think their friendship is sweet.” 

“Thanks, Pans.” 

“So you don’t fancy Y/N?” Theo asked. Enzo opened his mouth then closed it. He was well aware that his friend was baiting him, but he refused to fall into Theo’s trap. 

“Like I said, we’re friends.” 

“In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I asked for her number, right?” 

As a matter of fact, Enzo did fucking mind. He minded very much. Too much, probably. But he couldn’t very well say that out loud. Instead, he masked his scowl and returned his attention to revising. 

“Knock yourself out, mate.” 

Theo smirked. “Alright then, let’s go.” 

“Go where?” Enzo asked disinterestedly, flipping through his study sheet for Latin. 

“To Deja Brew,” Theo replied smugly. “We all need a study break, anyways.” 

“You want to go there? Right now?” With each question, Enzo’s death grip tightened on his notes. “To ask for Y/N’s number?” 

“That shouldn’t be a problem, right? In fact, maybe you could introduce us.” 

Enzo would rather walk on hot coals. “I think I'll pass. I've already seen her turn Mattheo down and that was brutal enough as it is. I don’t need an encore.”

“Riddle’s probably not her type.” 

Mattheo frowned, crossing his arms. “I’m everyone’s type.” 

Theo chuckled. “Apparently not hers. Perhaps she’d prefer a handsome Italian, no?” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “In your dreams, Nott.” 

“Now I’m intrigued,” exclaimed Blaise. “I’d never miss an opportunity to witness Theodore get humbled. Are you sure you’re ready for a woman like Y/N, Nott?” 

“Please,” Theo scoffed. “I was born ready.” 

Against his will, Enzo found himself at Deja Brew ten minutes later. In his usual corner by the window, he brooded like a petulant child. This was a horrible, terrible, and idiotic idea. All he wanted to do was revise and now his study session had been hijacked just so he could watch Theo flirt with the girl he fancied. 

“You know, you can put a stop to this any time you’d like,” Mattheo said in a sing-songy voice. “Just admit that my theory is right. Y/N has a crush on you and I’m willing to bet that the feeling is mutual. Isn’t it, Berkshire?” 

Enzo crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. Instead of giving into Mattheo’s childish pursuits, he opened his laptop and pretended to be immersed with Russian translations. 

“Have it your way, Enzo.” Regulus declared, nodding towards the register. “Nott’s about to give us a show.” 

As irritated as he was with his friends, Enzo couldn’t tear his gaze away. Theo marched up to the counter with swagger and confidence, slipping on his signature smirk. You looked up from your phone screen, giving the tall and lanky boy a sweeping gaze. The unenthused expression on your face screamed that you weren’t at all impressed.

“Y/N, is it?” Theo drawled, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron. “A pretty name for a pretty lady.” 

“Thanks,” you deadpanned. “My parents gave it to me. Now what can I get started for you?” 

“Aren’t you going to ask me for my name?” 

“I know who you are,” you replied dismissively. “One of Enzo’s friends, right? I heard about your little stunt in the fountain. You know, December’s not really a smart time to go skinny dipping.” Theo flushed as your eyes trailed down to his crotch. “Certain parts shrivel in the cold, Nott.” 

“I assure you, my parts were perfectly intact.” 

“That’s not what Katie Bell said,” you countered, tapping your lips thoughtfully. “I believe I heard something about shrinkage.” Theo opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. “I’ll tell you what, Theodore. Why don’t I fix you up a cappuccino? It’ll help keep you and your parts warm and cozy.” 

Enzo bit his lip to keep himself from bursting into laughter. The rest of his friends snickered as they watched a dejected Theo return to the table. 

Regulus snorted as he sat back down in defeat. “Merlin, that was hard to watch. Absolutely brutal, really.” 

Theo glared at Regulus in response. “I’d like to see you do better, Black.” 

Regulus winked. “Watch and learn, boys.” 

The older boy had about as much luck as Theo. Though the attempts had put him in a foul mood at first, Enzo was absolutely elated as he watched you turn down his friends. Regulus received an eye roll while Draco reeled from the head to toe once-over that humbled the absolute hell out of him. 

“It’s useless,” his cousin mumbled. “She hates everyone.” 

“Or maybe Y/N just doesn’t appreciate random blokes chatting her up while she’s trying to do her job,” Pansy said with an eye roll. 

“Oh bloody hell, here she comes.” Regulus muttered under his breath. “I don’t think my ego can take another hit.” 

The boys cowered as you came closer, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Instead, you set a fresh mug of tea and a lemon scone down in front of Enzo. 

“Last one, I promise. It’s finally perfect this time.” 

“You said that the last three times,” Enzo said with a chuckle. “They were all brilliant, by the way. Not that you listen to my well crafted reviews.” 

“You say that about everything I make, Enz. Honestly, a girl bakes you a couple of treats and suddenly I’m the best thing since sliced bread.” 

“I’m just being honest,” he replied with a shrug. “You couldn’t bake a single bad pastry if you tried.” 

“I’d like to try a pastry,” Mattheo interjected. 

You tore your attention away from Enzo. The smile that you reserved for him transformed into a scowl, your entire body language turning stern. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?” 

“Riddle,” Mattheo supplied. “Mattheo Riddle.” 

“Right,” you said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. “My pastries aren’t for sale. You’re more than welcome to try the day-old brownie behind the counter though. If you can manage to chew through it.” 

Mattheo sputtered, but you paid no mind to his aghast expression. Enzo fought the urge to kiss you right then and there. 

“Closing again tonight?” he asked, ignoring the blatant stares from the rest of his friends. 

“Unfortunately. Diggory bailed again. Probably too busy snogging Cho to come in for his shift,” you said with an eye roll. 

“Leave those lovebirds alone,” Enzo quipped back. “They’re in their honeymoon phase.” 

“I can’t for the life of me understand how they aren’t sick of each other by now.” 

“That’s because you’re a mean old grump.” You glared at him, which only made Enzo smile. “Luckily for you, that doesn’t deter me. I’ll come keep you company if you want. I promise to be way more entertaining than Cedric.” 

“It’s not a hard task to accomplish, but I’ll take you up on it nonetheless.” 

“I thought you might say that,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll meet you back here after my last class. Pad Thai tonight?” 

You nodded and grinned back. “This is why you’re my favorite, peach.” 

The boys gaped as you ruffled his hair in parting. They waited until you were out of earshot before launching into a tirade. 

“What the bloody hell was that?”

“Just friends my arse.”

“I can’t believe she actually smiled at you!” 

“It’s strange how treating Y/N like an actual human being instead of pestering her while she’s trying to work yields such positive results,” Pansy retorted. “I think you all need to start following Enzo’s example. Clearly he’s had more success than you lot.” 

Blaise patted Enzo on the back. “Mate, you might be the most oblivious bloke in all of Britain, but you’d have to be an absolute knobhead not to see what’s right in front of you.” 

He hummed in response, glancing up at the exact same time that your gaze met his from across the room. You winked, making him blush furiously. Merlin, you were pretty. It was honestly unfair. Maybe Zabini was onto something.

When it came to you, even Enzo had to agree that he was a total and absolute knobhead.

Later that night, Enzo helped you clear the plates and mugs as the last customers trickled out of Deja Brew. The soft sounds of your perfectly curated playlist trickled over the speakers as you flipped the sign to closed. He watched with a small smile as you hopped up onto the counter and beckoned him over. The fairy lights twinkled above the ceiling, illuminating your smile as Enzo took his place next to you. 

The sight of you grinning up at him tugged at his heartstrings. There were coffee stains on your jeans and apron, your thick hair was falling out of its braid, and a cold bowl of Pad Thai awaited in your lap and yet he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. 

“Aren’t you glad Cedric bailed?” Enzo teased, knocking his shoulder with yours. “Now you get to enjoy cold noodles with your favorite person.” 

You chuckled, nudging him back. “I suppose this is nicer than listening to Diggory ramble on about Quidditch. It’s always bludger this, bludger that. I honestly considered bludgeoning him myself.” 

“To be fair, the man could merely breathe and you’d still find a way to be annoyed by it.” 

“No one needs to inhale that much oxygen.”

“I rest my case, you mean old grump.” 

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “You know, if anyone else called me that I’d poke their eye out with a fork.” Enzo chuckled as you stabbed into your bowl of noodles. “Besides, I have every right to be grumpy. It’s been a long day. Thanks to your incessant little friends.” 

“I’m sorry about the guys,” he said earnestly. “I tried to talk them out of flirting with you, but they��ve got this crazy theory.” 

“Oh?” You asked, raising a brow. “What’s the theory, then?” 

Enzo flushed, avoiding your gaze. “They uh…” He cleared his throat and stared at his shoes. “They think you fancy me.” 

“Hmm,” you hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe they’re not idiots after all. Your friends are right. I do fancy you.” 

White noise rushed through his ears. Enzo’s mouth fell open as he met your gaze. Surely, he hadn’t heard you correctly. 

“You alright there, peach?” 

“You…” Enzo trailed off, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You like me?” 

You chuckled. “I have for a bit. Thanks for finally noticing.” 

“How?” Enzo muttered. “What?” He cocked his head, trying to search for the proper words. “Why?” 

At the moment, it appeared that one syllable words were the full extent of his vocabulary. All those languages in his head and yet he couldn’t form a single coherent sentence. 

“Enz, I know your drink order by heart,” you explained softly. “I make you cupcakes and muffins. I write you notes every day. I thought I made myself pretty obvious.” 

“Gods,” he breathed, silently reprimanding himself. “I really am the most oblivious bloke in Britain.” Enzo licked his lips, turning over to look at you. “I just thought you were being nice.” 

“Lorenzo, when have I ever been nice to anyone?” 

“I am a bloody idiot.” 

“You never made a move, so I just thought you didn’t see me that way. Which is fine, by the way. I don’t mind being friends.” 

Enzo turned so fast he nearly smacked into the register. “Are you kidding? I’ve had a crush on you for months. You’re the best part of my day. Waking up and knowing that I get to see you every morning is the only thing that gets me out of bed.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“Because,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You’re out of my league. You’re smart and funny and not to mention way too cool. Honestly, I thought you’d go for someone like Mattheo or Theo or literally anyone else but me. Someone a little more…” he trailed off, waving a hand over you. 

“Scary?” 

“No! Well, yes. Someone more confident and intimidating.” 

“Bad boys aren’t really my type.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “They’re not?” 

“No,” you said, setting down your food and turning over to face him. “My type is a nerdy linguistics major who teaches me how to curse in six different languages and who makes cute little conjugation charts and orders drinks that should quite frankly classify as a dessert.” 

Enzo’s smile grew wider. "I like you too, you know. A lot. Like, embarrassingly so. With your grumpy little scowl and all black wardrobe and dry humor. I like all of it."

You beamed as Enzo leaned closer, tracing your lips like he was trying to commit the curves of your smile to his memory. His heart pounded in his chest as your eyes flickered up to meet his.

"Then kiss me like you mean it, Enzo."

Despite your confidence, the air left your lungs as soon as Enzo cradled your face in his hands. The twinkling lights made his brown eyes shimmer like pools of honey in the dark. The tension stretched between you as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours ever so gently. They briefly closed around yours—tasting, testing, taunting. Then the dam broke free.

Enzo pressed you closer and kissed you like his life depended on it. You smiled against his lips, melting into his touch as he tilted your head back for more. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as Enzo sighed into your mouth, his lips molding perfectly against yours. The once shy and experimental kisses turned needy and passionate, making you feel slightly lightheaded. Enzo savored your soft sighs, kissing you over and over again to elicit more.

It wasn't until you felt like the air had been depleted from your lungs when he finally relented. He pressed his forehead against yours, noses brushing as you both grinned at each other. It felt right to be this close. It felt like you were made to do this all along. Enzo brushed his thumb over your cheek, looking dazed as he pulled back to look at you. 

“It’s about time, Berkshire.” 

“Hey,” Enzo grumbled, pecking at your lips. “You can’t blame me. I couldn’t even look at you without blushing and making a fool of myself. You’re so intimidating.” 

“Not so scary now, am I?” 

“Oh no, I’m still terrified of you. But I’ve also seen you cry during the Notebook, so I know that deep down inside, you’re just a big softie.” 

You started to protest, but Enzo just leaned in and kissed you again. With his lips pressed against yours, you couldn’t even remember what you were about to say. As he pulled you into his lap, you heard cheers coming from outside. Behind the glass window, his friends were cheering and wolf-whistling rather obnoxiously on the street. 

Enzo responded by flicking them off and kissing you even harder, pressing your bodies together as you giggled. He hauled you to your feet, his arms circling around your waist as he dipped you for a better angle. Your back hit the counter as you raised to your tiptoes, winding your arms around his neck and mussing up his hair as you arched for more. The hollering only grew more incessant when Enzo grabbed your ass and squeezed. The groan that escaped from his mouth made you dizzy with desire.

If one kiss could elicit such a response out of you, it was almost scary to think what else Enzo had in his arsenal. A cheeky little smile curved against his lips as though he knew exactly what you were thinking. You basked under the warmth of his gaze, feeling flushed and flustered. That pretty face had you entirely fooled. Enzo was far from innocent.

“Gods, I really fucking fancy you.”

With a smile, you kissed the tip of his nose. “I really fucking fancy you too, peach.” 

Despite the many languages in Enzo's arsenal, no phrase or saying could convey how he felt better than his lips against yours. Maybe he hadn't quite mastered the language of love, but he had a feeling that you'd be more than willing to teach him.

[kingkatsuki]

Thinking about a silly accidental confession with Kaji, because you just know he would have an entire photo album dedicated to you on his phone!!

It wasn’t unusual for you and Kaji to share phones, even though you weren’t dating. Swapping devices so you could create each other custom playlists for whatever new artist you were listening to that week, or searching through each others sound cloud to try and find that song you’d heard playing in a local music venue before the show.

The pair of you were so comfortable with each other that you knew each others passcodes, a fact that Hiragi took great delight in when he’d found out. Claiming that you could find out all of Kaji’s deep, dark secrets— causing his best friend to shoot him a glare across the table as he bit down on the hard peach candy he’d been sucking to stop himself from throwing back a retort.

But Hiragi was right— there was a huge secret that he’d been hiding from you, and one he was certain he’d take to his grave because there was no way you’d ever feel the same.

Kaji had left his phone on the coffee table as he’d got up to use the bathroom, giving you the perfect opportunity to pick it up and unlock it like you usually would. Intent on adding a new song you’d found by a local artist to his current playlist in the hopes of being able to drag him to one of their shows later this month. Typing in the digits across the screen as it unlocked and you were met with his photo gallery, not wanting to pry or come across an accidental lewd (no matter how curious you were) as your thumb moved to swipe out of the app but you paused when you noticed it.

Row upon row of photos of you. Candids mostly— of you smiling while sitting across the table in Pothos from him, ones where you were walking ahead of him beside Tsubaki as he lingered back, or your face pressed against the glass of an arcade machine as you tried to aim for a plushie inside. Along with selfies the pair of you had taken together, some with the ridiculous Snapchat filters Kaji had sworn he despised and barked at you to delete— bunny ears or fake blush filters on his cheeks, along with individual selfies of yourself that you had sent to him. And there was even screenshots of your conversations, or flirty and silly memes you’d sent each other.

And that’s the moment you looked up at the title of the album to see “My Everything <3” typed out. Feeling your heart begin to swell inside your chest as you were certain it would exert pressure against your rib cage and burst free, he really did feel the same.

“What are you doin’?” Kaji flopped back down beside you on the couch, his thigh nudging yours as he glanced over to his phone in your hands as he saw it, and for the first time since held known you he tried to snatch his phone from between your fingers roughly, “Give that back.”

“No.” You held it out of his reach as Kaji practically leaned his entire body over you to try and retrieve it, leaving your faces inches from each others as you met his steel-blue gaze, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think you felt the same,” His jaw locked as he tried to fight the awkward sensation that throbbed in his tummy, certain he’d ruined everything he already had with you because he had to go and catch feelings, “It’s stupid, I’m sorry I’ll delete it—”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You cut him off as you tilted your head to the side in confusion, and Kaji thought you looked so adorable it took every fiber of his being not to lean forward and smash his lips against yours.

“Why wouldn’t you what?” Kaji felt his throat start to tighten as his mouth felt dry, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly to try and quell the feeling. Wishing he had a lollipop between his lips to stop himself from exploding as he tried to focus.

“Why wouldn’t I feel the same?” You gave him a soft smile as you dropped his phone onto the couch beside you in favour of cradling his jaw in your palm, feeling him lean into your warmth as your thumb stroked his cheek, “Because you’re my everything too.”

And that was all it took to have Kaji bridging the gap as he pressed his lips to yours in a gentle kiss.

[minhosimthings]

The Symphony Smut Series

A series of oneshots based on lyrics from my playlists and their songs

Day 1: Lana del Rey's Gods and Monsters;

In the land of gods and monsters I was an angel, looking to get fucked hard - Lee 'Know' Minho (Skz)

Day 2:Lana del rey's Brooklyn Baby

My boyfriends' in a band, he plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed - Heeseung and Jay (Enha)

Day 3: Doja Cat and Starbo3's D!ck

She came in like an addict - Kim Sunoo (Enha)

Day 4: Cat Peirce's You belong to me

Do what you please to me, I won't resist - Jake (Enha)

Day 5: Lancey Foxx's Lancey or Lancey

Took her to Paris, she took her panties off- Felix (Skz)

Day 6: Lana del Rey's Peppers

We write hit songs without trying like, all the time, all the time - Han Jisung (Skz)

Day 7: Julia Michaels' Heaven

they say all good boys go to heaven, but bad boys bring heaven to you - I.N/ Yang Jeongin (Skz)

Day 8: Lana del Rey's Cherry

My cherries and wine and all of my peaches are ruined - Heeseung (Enha)

Day 9: Flo Milli's Rodeo Ride

He love how I ride it, hop on a dick made him get excited - Changbin (Skz)

Day 10: Skz's Red Lights

I cannot breathe without you being right by my side - Seungmin (Skz)

Day 11:Charlie Puth's Dangerously

I love you dangerously - Sunghoon (Enha)

Day 12: Staind "Right Here"

But you always find a way to keep me right here waiting. - Hyunjin (Skz)

Day 13: Amaarae's Angels in Tibet

Louvre and Armani I like how you say it - Jay (Enha)

Day 14: Doja Cat's Agora Hills

Suck a little dick in the bathroom - Chan (Skz)

Day 15: Doja Cat's Agora Hills

Kissin I hope they caught us - Sunghoon (Enha)

Day 16: Todrick hall's Both

I can make you moist or i can make you fire - Minho and Chan (Skz)

Day 17: The Neighborhood's You get me so high

We should stick together, you're my best friend I love you forever - Jake (Enha)

Day 18: Amaarae's Angels in Tibet

Touch me where you need to, I can give you more - Minho (Skz)

Taglist: @ramenoil @mynameisniya150 @demigodmahash + whoever wants to be tagged, send an ask my way!

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Three: The Long Night

|Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader|

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's note: Thank you for the warm reception to the first two chapters! We're about to go 0-100 real quick, so hold onto your butts. This is also the longest chapter of the story, hence the title of "The Long Night". It's around 10k words. ୧⁠(⁠＾⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠＾⁠)⁠୨ A few lines stuck with me while writing this chapter from the song Gibson Girl by Ethel Cain:

“And if you hate me. Please don’t tell me. Just let the lights bleed all over me.” - Ethel Cain, Gibson Girl.

Chapter Warnings: Aegon window scene, emotional abuse of a child, if the reader has zero lovers haters Aemond is dead, COCSA.

The afternoon air was refreshing to the eldest son of the king, the sun warming the ruddy skin of his cock as he stroked it to total hardness. As Aegon grew older, the more the days seemed to drag on in an endless loop of mind-numbing misery. Duties, lessons, and more raging from his mother on the importance of said responsibilities until the time all muddled into one continuous circle. Wine, cuffing Aemond, and fucking his prick raw seemed to be the only things that could bring him out of this dull, never-ending cycle. 

Each day, Aegon discovered a new object that made his member pulse with a flush of blood. It was part of what made it so distracting. One day, a young serving girl with exceptionally long legs caught the prince’s eye. Her quickly shifted gaze did not deter him in the slightest. The next was the thrill of danger, each time seeking completion at new depths of peril. Once atop his mighty dragon Sunfyre, his pink membrane wings sparkling against the white clouds as he rutted against his saddle, and another, at where he found it the easiest, perched atop his window ledge, stark naked as the day he was born. The threat of being discovered always sent a thrill down his spine and straight to his stones. 

Most recently, much to his chagrin, Aegon had discovered you, his sweet, albeit annoying niece, was the object of his desires as you ate an overly ripe strawberry. The pink juice dribbled down your fingers and chin, staining your lips red. He felt disgusted with himself at the time. You were his niece! This bothersome little urchin who followed his heels like a duckling, yet he attended luncheons with you, Jace, and that other one.

At first, he thought that maybe it was not you that caused his body to have that primal response but the object itself. It couldn’t possibly be you. However, after much trial and error, at one point attempting to have an intimate time with a fruit, he found the reason. Aegon soon discovered that after spending several meals with you, intently observing how you sucked the leftover yellow-orange meat from a peach pit, it was you he was aroused by, the way your tongue moved to lick the sticky saccharine liquid from your digits and thus became his ritual.

He would attend lunch with you and your brothers as that was the only meal you ate alone, observing how you consumed creamy puddings that he snuck from the kitchens, supplying fruits that would squirt their nectar onto your skin when you bit into them. It would send a thrumming inside his bones as he watched you chew, a simple act that no other maiden could seem to replicate. Aegon would wipe away the stickiness from your flesh with the swipe of his moistened thumb, feeling his stomach tense at the contact and dipping back into his mouth to gather more as you innocently giggled and swatted his hands away.

Then, when the meal would end, the prince would find himself in his room as he was now, clothes thrown about the area as he stroked his cock within the ledge of the windowsill, the images of you devouring the foods he gave you playing in his mind’s eye. And the best part, the detail that sent Aegon frequently rutting into his fist at all moments of the day, was that you didn’t know any better. You perceived it as your Uncle being kind, and you were eager to receive praise or attention from the person you admire.

What you didn’t understand wouldn’t hurt you, he reasoned.

Aegon was almost there. He could feel it, sense the impending release he had stored since lunch as he spat on his cock, pinching the ruddy head to stave it off just a moment more. It wouldn’t be long now. He could hear the bells that signaled the new hour in the distance. His stomach tensed, digits curling into a stone pillar for purchase as he released a gasp of your name through gritted teeth. 

“Whose idea was it?” Alicent’s voice rang out to the sound of the bell tower, throwing him from his fantasy as he stumbled off the ledge and onto his mattress, knocking his cup of Arbor Red out of the window. She repeated her question once more, disregarding the state of undress in which she had discovered her child. 

Aegon was embarrassed and disheveled, minding reeling as he struggled to catch his breath and understand her question. It annoyed him that he was cut off abruptly as if his mother had no regard for her eldest son’s privacy. 

“Whose idea was it? The pig. Was it your plot?” Alicent interrogated, ringed fingers clasped over her abdomen as her dark brows drew together in a scowl. 

It took a moment for Aegon to come to his senses as he brushed unruly strands of his curly blonde hair from his face, covering his exposed parts with his bedsheets. “No. It was Jace and uh… ” he stammered, picturing the other curly-mop-headed boy he could never remember the name of. 

What was it? Lorgan? Leander?  

It didn’t matter. Aegon couldn’t keep up with the children his half-sister popped out. Every day, a new babe seemed to cry in the Red Keep. “The-the other one, not the girl. I can’t be sure,” he eventually answered, squinting his eyes as he stared towards his mother.

“Aemond is your brother,” she sharply reasoned, disappointedly shaking her head and taking steps toward her slouched son. 

“Well, he’s a twat ,” Aegon childishly countered as frustration welled up at having his release stolen from him. He couldn’t believe she showed such nonchalance seeing his boyish body, let alone him being bare as the day he was born as he stroked himself to completion. 

“We are family,” Alicent lectured, brown eyes flicking across her son’s pale face. “You may cuff him about as you wish at home, but in the world we defend our own.” 

“It was funny,” the prince sighed with a shrug and realized his defense was weak. It was only a joke. It wasn’t Aegon’s fault that Aemond was such an odd, fragile little boy who couldn’t take his teasing. This would make him less of a bore to be around.

“Do you think Rhaenyra’s sons will be your playthings forever? As things stand…,” she continued with her velvet voice, her grave tone rumbling in her chest. “Rhaenyra will ascend the iron throne and either her daughter, or Jacaerys will be her heir.”

Aegon shrugged his sinewy shoulders, an expression of indifference on his pale face. He knew this already. He knew this when he couldn’t think and did not understand the importance of the sudden lesson in inheritance. “So?”

The Queen groaned, nearly at her wit’s end, as she looked at the Seven above for guidance in dealing with her incompetent son, fists clenching. 

“You are nearly a man grown. How is it that you can be so shortsighted?” Alicent finally became level with her son, kneeling on the filthy mattress and rumpled sheets. She needed him to listen and hear the seriousness of the future for him, his siblings, and his potential children’s lives would be threatened should his half-sister become Queen. “If Rhaenyra comes into power, your very life could be forfeited. Aemond’s as well. She could move to cut off any challenge to her succession.” 

Aegon’s jaw trembled, lips twitching into a pout as his nose burned. His mother was so frightening when she was mad that he couldn’t help but feel like a child again. “Then I won’t challenge-” 

Faster than the prince could blink, Alicent’s digits pinched his pale cheeks together, startling him into submission as his brows scrunched in pain.

“You are the challenge, Aegon! Simply by living and breathing!” she shouted, words rattling in her throat. 

Silence hung thick between mother and son, a sense of catastrophe burrowing itself into Aegon’s heart as tears threatened to spill. He would not cry . He refused to cry in front of his mother as she screamed into his very soul that his half-sister would murder him and his brother when she became queen. The prince still did not believe it. She wouldn’t do it if he did not stand in Rhaenyra’s way. Kinslaying was the greatest crime one could commit in the eyes of the law and the divine. She would never. 

“You are the king’s firstborn son,” Alicent continued, squeezing Aegon tighter as she moved to smack his chest with her words, “and what they know and everyone in the realm knows in their blood and in their bones, is that one day you will be our king.” 

The Queen stared into his frightened eyes, which flicked over her like a rabbit cornered by a fox. Realizing the severity of her outburst as guilt washed over her, Alicent stroked her son’s untamed hair, a brief halfhearted smile on her plump lips, as she spoke to him with a sudden reserved tranquility that chilled Aegon. 

“I aim to propose a match between you and her eldest as an attempt at peace in the following days. She already offered Jacaerys to Helaena, but if Rhaenyra sees reason as you think her to have, she will have no option but to accept.” The Queen leaned onto her haunches as she swallowed, her mouth feeling of cotton as she looked anywhere but at her fearful son. “Seeing as you are smitten with the only good thing that has yet to emerge from Rhaenyra’s continued indecency, you will have no objections. Get dressed .” 

The eldest Prince struggled to steady his breathing as his mother left, heart beating as if he was plummeting from his window. Aegon didn’t know what to think or feel as his mother sighed profoundly and left without another word. 

He would wed his niece? Aegon thought that someone as pious as his mother would never allow a match between kin, let alone ones so close. It made no sense. She would reject one proposal only to give another of the same caliber. You and Aegon were the two eldest children and subsequent heirs, the most obvious match, yet Rhaenyra did not offer it. There must have been a reason that his mother refused to acknowledge.

It was all too much. It felt as if Aegon was lost out at sea and attempting to keep afloat, seeing landfall just out of reach as wave after wave of saltwater stung his eyes and filled his lungs until he sank into the cold and murky waters below. Aegon needed a drink to quiet his nerves and a good release, for that matter, as his eyes traveled to the colorful array of exotic fruits resting in a bowl on his nightstand. 

The evening was upon King’s Landing as you and your brothers readied for bed. A maid ran a silver ivory tooth comb through your brown hair, detangling the knots and frizz accumulated during the day. Jace and Luke prepared with their man servants in the adjoining room, the younger running across the stone floor and into your room, declaring he was not tired. You couldn’t help but giggle at Luke’s childish actions as the servant chased him onto his neatly made bed, sliding across the sheets and causing them to wrinkle.

Moments later, your mother and father entered to say their goodnights, their presence whipping your brother back into good behavior as the manservant put him into his night clothes. Your mother always came to tuck the three of you into bed, even when there was a new addition to the family. Frequently, Ser Harwin followed behind her with a regaling of stories when your father wasn’t able to do the same, but this time, he was here, and the three of you crowded into Jace’s bed as you awaited your father to tell you of his journeys this past moon. 

He retold tales of sailing throughout the Narrow Sea with his father Corlys and the squire Ser Qarl. Your father sang bits of the same shanties his crew mates did before your mother stopped him as the three of you giggled. He spoke of battling pirates with silver and gold teeth and missing limbs who tried to board his ship on a misty morning. He could barely see three paces before him due to the fog on the calm waters as enemies boarded your grandfather’s boat. He proclaimed how Ser Qarl saved his life when one of the dreadful pirates knocked your father’s torch out of his hand. 

“The world around me transformed instantly, shrouded in a gray hue. The menacing figure of the one-eyed pirate, with his glinting gold tooth, vanished from view. Anticipating the bitter bite of a blade tearing through my flesh, I braced myself for the inevitable. Amidst the deafening percussion of my adversary’s approach, I stood steadfast, poised for the final confrontation. Bereft of vision, I awaited the fatal blow, resigned to my fate. Yet, like the Warrior himself, emerging from the mist, Ser Qarl materialized and drove his sword deep into the pirate’s heart, sparing me from inevitable demise”.

As your father recounted the tale, his hands danced through the air, adding flair to every word and making you and your siblings feel like you were with him. Jace and Luke were captivated, hanging on to every detail as your father wove the story with the skill of a master storyteller. As he spoke, it felt more like a fantastical legend than a real-life experience. The mere thought of your father not returning from his daring escapades sent shivers down your spine, prompting you to intertwine your arms and absentmindedly play with the delicate strands of hair between your fingertips.

With a watchful eye, your mother sensed your anxiety and gently reassured you with a kiss on your head and comforting words. “Don’t worry, my dear. Your father won’t be embarking on another adventure for a long while. He knows that his rightful place is with his family,” your mother consoled, lightly caressing each of your dark locks while sharing a meaningful glance with your father. “Enough storytelling. It’s time for you to go to bed. There’s much to learn in tomorrow’s lessons, and none of you will skip them.”

She looked at you with raised brows, her violet eyes wide enough that you could see the pink veins decorating the white. You tightened your mouth in shame and looked away from your mother’s piercing gaze as you, Jace, and Luke muttered in unison.

“Yes, mother.” 

A deep sense of relaxation washed over you as you slid beneath the cool, smooth silk sapphire bedsheets. It had been an eventful day, and now, finally lying in bed, you released a breath. Your mother first kissed your brothers goodnight as your father did the same for you, switching between the three in your separate rooms.

“Father,” you called out softly as he walked to Jace and Luke’s room. He turned towards you, his eyes holding a mixture of weariness and unspoken understanding as you buried your flushed cheeks beneath the calm, comforting embrace of the blankets. “I cannot stand the thought of you continuing to brave the seas alongside Ser Qarl and Lord Corlys. The danger is too great.”

You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. The idea of your father setting sail on your grandfather’s proud ship and never returning filled you with an indescribable dread. You couldn’t fathom a world where no one would swing you around, regaling you with vivid tales of swashbuckling adventures and stirring escapades on the high seas.

As Laenor listened to your confession, a faint but genuine smile graced his features. His eyes softened as he glanced at your tiny, fidgeting feet, a clear sign of nervousness. At that moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness toward you. Despite what others may say to him, you were his little girl. He knew that you often cared too deeply and worried too much about others, which weighed heavily on his mind. Seeing the effects of overwhelming anxiety on your petite frame heightened his concern for your well-being.

As he looked at you, he silently promised himself that he didn’t want to be the cause of your distress. With a wistful smile, he nodded and excused himself, reaching his sons. Deep down, he knew that a part of his soul belonged to the sea, but he couldn’t bring himself to share this with you.

He hoped his inner turmoil was not visible as he exited, but he knew you were astute enough to have noticed. Despite your tender age, you possessed a perceptiveness that belied your years, and Laenor couldn’t help but worry more about deceiving you than he did about his wife or mother. As he departed, he steeled himself for the impending storm of reproach from Rhaenyra upon receiving the maids’ reports about the tangled knots you had wrestled out of your hair while asleep.

Your mother’s warm and affectionate smile appeared shortly after your father’s as she settled onto the edge of the luxuriously soft feather mattress. She gently kissed your warm cheek and enveloped your small frame in a tight embrace as you responded in kind, nuzzling into her lavender-scented neck. She beamed with delight as you squeezed her tighter, pressing an extended, heartfelt kiss onto her cheek. In response, she let out a tender laugh, which quickly spread to you, causing both of you to erupt into a chorus of infectious, toothy giggles.

As you prepare to drift off into sleep, you feel the loving warmth of your mother’s heartfelt whisper. “Sleep tight, my heart. I love you.” She gently brushed her fingers down from the crown of your head, through the fabric of your soft cotton nightgown sleeve, and finally to your hand, where she gently massaged the tender skin of your palm, creating a sense of comfort and security.

As you settled into your feather pillows, your mother’s words filled your chest. “I love you too, Mama,” you replied, feeling a surge of emotion.

You could sense her watching as you nestled into your soft sheets, envisioning her gentle smile as she observed you finding comfort in your bed. Her soft sigh seemed to carry a hint of amusement as she watched you, her only daughter, wrapped in the embrace of the fabric, and it was almost as if her exhale itself held a trace of laughter.

What an endearing girl. My beautiful girl, Rhaenyra, mused as she rose to her feet. She took her time extinguishing the flickering candles one by one until only a single flame remained on the nightstand. The soft glow of the candle illuminated the room, providing a presence of solace for you, who had always been afraid of the darkness that the Red Keep brought. Though she would never admit it aloud, the princess regretted allowing Alicent to name you. She felt like an imbecile for the days after her first labor. 

Rhaenyra had a name for a girl. She had one since her mother was pregnant with her last child. You were a Targaryen, a descendant of the Conquers, and deserved to have a name like one. Alas, in a desperate attempt to create everlasting peace between the Princess and the Queen, she allowed her forgotten friend to name her daughter. An act that proved fruitless.

It was a mistake Rhaenyra would never make again as she opened the stalwart oak doors of your chambers, leaving one last expression filled with unyielding love.

You could still feel the whisper of your mother’s goodnight kisses on your face, releasing a deep sigh of relaxation as you turned beneath the elegant blankets and burrowed deeper into your soft pillows, arm tucked under your head. It took you a moment to comprehend the foreign object hidden underneath the satin-covered feathers as you grasped it with small fingers. 

You revealed a piece of parchment folded into fours underneath the candlelight and unraveled it curiously, wiping at your sleepy eyes with the back of your hand. 

It was a note from… Aegon , bewildering you beyond measure as to why he would do such a thing and how he got it in here without notifying your guard. The contents were of messy handwriting as if a chicken had written it, squinting in an attempt to decipher what almost looked like a foreign language. 

“I have a secret to tell you, niece, but you must promise that you shall tell no one, not even Jace. Follow the map I have drawn and meet me. I’ll be waiting. - Aegon”

Excitement rushed through your veins as you quickly went to your wardrobe and pulled on a midnight blue cloak. Slowly, as noiseless as possible, you crept over to the door separating you, Jace, and Luke’s room, carefully pulling it shut. You held the note in your hand as you followed your Uncle’s instructions, sliding your vanity mirror out of the blocked path he wrote out and stopping momentarily as the wooden leg scratched across the floor, ensuring your brothers did not hear. Your fingers felt along the stone wall, pushing with all your might against the innocuous slab until it gave way and a torch-lit passage emerged. 

You knew you shouldn’t be venturing out of your chambers at such a late hour, but the thrill of adventure was too enticing. Pulling the hood of your cloak over your loose hair, you couldn’t resist the opportunity. Aegon had never done something like this. He never sought you out to spend time together, let alone at such a late and secretive hour. It provided a good distraction from the worry that clung to your eyelids as you slipped down the dust-covered redstone stairs.

You heard rumors about hidden tunnels throughout Maegor’s Holdfast that he employed skilled architects and builders to construct them, and when they finished, he led them into the passages and killed every single one. When questioned about it, Maegor claimed he didn’t want rats to scuttle inside his walls . The thought sent shivers down your spine at the notion that within these very halls and alcoves could be the bones of a dozen or so men murdered in cold bold by your ancestor. 

The scuffle of shoes stole you from your mind, causing a gasp of fear to shake you as Aegon clamped his palms on your shoulders. Your Uncle cackled at having caught you unaware, sounding like a hag and flipping his unruly blonde hair back. 

“You got my note?” he asked as you nodded eagerly, showing him the parchment. “Does Jace know?”

You took a step back, brows scrunching together in offended confusion as you shook your head. Why would it matter if your brother knew? He wouldn’t tell anyone if you asked him not to. You were two halves of the same soul, bound together no matter the circumstances. 

“No, Uncle. You told me not to.” Despite wishing to do so. 

Aegon grinned, pleased with your obedience. Your submission to him was what allowed him to tolerate you. Your Uncle knew how close you and Jace were, practically joined at the hip, and even if he wanted to do something alone with one or the other, the other would always show. He was sure you would tell Jace when you felt the note underneath your pillow but was relieved nonetheless. 

As his eyes observed your attire, violet orbs flicked to your loose hair, white nightgown, and finely tailored cloak with a grimace. Aegon should have told you to dress down, seeing as he wore a tan undershirt and black trousers, but it was too late now. He would have to be extra careful. She looks common enough, he thought. 

“I was worried you wouldn’t come,” the prince confessed, placing his hand on your back to guide you. “I know your mother is strict with your bedtime.” 

You frowned as Aegon escorted you to Seven knows where. His insinuation of such a juvenile schedule deeply wounded you. As you understood, he didn’t adhere to a bedtime enforced by Queen Alicent, which only furthered your insecurities about your place compared to your aunt and uncles.

The narrow passage was filled with the high-pitched squeaks of mice and rats, making you startle and stand on your toes with each scurry past. Despite your protest, Aegon found amusement in your discomfort and callously kicked the next rodent that darted in your path. You supposed it was his way of protecting you, but the sight of the injured creature and its harrowing screech left you with a deep sense of disgust and sadness in the pit of your stomach. 

It brought to mind a painful memory of your Uncle crushing a butterfly that you and Helaena discovered in the garden, another instance of Aegon’s unjustified cruelty that you struggled to comprehend.

Water droplets echoed in the vast expanse of the underground tunnels as you and your Uncle ventured deeper into them. You glanced at Aegon, seeking guidance, and were met with a wide grin that stretched across his face. In the dim torchlight, the sparkle of his white teeth was visible, and the sudden image of your mother flashed into your mind. You found a strange comfort in your Uncle’s resemblance to her, starkly contrasting the unease you felt around the Queen’s children.

Despite being your mother’s siblings, Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond seemed distant to her, lacking the typical bond between brother and sister. Usually, aunts and uncles were much older than their nieces and nephews, taking on a more parental role than a playmate. This dynamic blurred the line between family and friendship, making it difficult to feel at peace with them. You found yourself grappling with the contradicting ideas of respecting and listening to them as you would your mother or father while treating them as one of your companions. You did not enjoy the disturbance this caused in your heart, burying those thoughts and feelings deep down, refusing to confront or acknowledge their existence. If you did not speak it, it was not real. 

You could no longer deny your curiosity about Aegon’s plans as you trailed behind, though the uncertainty stirred excitement within you. “Where are we going, Uncle? What secret did you want to tell me?” 

Aegon didn’t hide the way he rolled his eyes in annoyance at your insistent questioning, commanding you to be patient. He gripped your hand without much choice on your part as he led you down one of the dark tunnels with jagged rocks until you came upon a corridor with winding stairs. You peered curiously as he abruptly dragged you up the stone, your shorter legs struggling to keep in time with him. 

Soon, you found yourself underneath the starless night sky, walking a few paces before Aegon in the courtyard until he abruptly yanked you back into the shadows, a guard marching across your path. You were stunned momentarily at your Uncle’s foresight, staring into his concentrated gaze in shocked admiration, confident that he had done something like this before. Holding your breath until you could no longer hear the rhythmic clank of his armor, a burst of excitement filled your veins as you released a hushed giggle, Aegon following suit. 

You arrived in the wine cellars after a few more thrilling close calls. Bottles, barrels, and casks lined the dim room from floor to ceiling as a chilly draft swiftly passed through the area. Peering questioningly at Aegon, he studied the wooden crisscross rack of the different beverages until he decided on one and pulled it out of its cubby. 

“What is that one?” you interrogated, peeking over his shoulder. He shamelessly turned to you along with the glass bottle, carelessly flipping it in his grasp. 

“Arbor Red. I thought we might have a drink to accompany us. ’Tis a favorite of mine,” Aegon replied as he picked the wax off the cork and neck. 

You observed him with interest, hesitancy beginning to creep into your mind as you pinched at the fine hairs on your forearm. “I’ve never had that before. Mama only allows me to have ciders or a sip of white wine if I cannot sleep.” 

“She isn’t here now, is she?” he jeered, removing the wax with great effort to pop the cork. “Here.” Aegon offered without choice, holding the dark purple bottle out with one hand, tipping it in your direction when you stalled. 

You nervously accepted the wine with tight lips, tentatively taking a sip as you felt the saccharine liquid burn your tongue and ears, scarlet heating your cheeks. It was treacly sweet for your liking, causing a gag of disgust to erupt from your throat as you shoved the Arbor Red back into Aegon’s grip. He laughed at your disgust and took a swig of it without a care, expelling a sigh of relief as the cool, red liquid slid down his throat. 

“That’s positively rancid!” you giggled, wiping away the remnants from your chin. “How do you drink that?”  

Aegon held the neck of the bottle in his grasp, stealing another from the rack he thought you would like as he took a long gulp. “Like that.” 

You laughed in surrender, accepting the lighter wine that he picked and stealing a small taste as it turned your blood to fire. 

Your Uncle’s next destination was the kitchens as he led you up another set of worn stairs, following his heels like an eager pup to its owner, wagging your tail. There were only a few servants in crimson robes and dresses, their smocks an off-yellow color from years of usage as they tended to their late-night duties. Aegon kept you out of sight in the darkness as he took swigs of the Arbor Red, hiding patiently like a stalking cat waiting for the perfect moment to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. 

When it happened, he took your wrist, expertly leading you through the multiple counters and tables, snatching a tray full of almond cakes and drying fruits as suddenly a kitchen maid appeared. The tray of prunes and oranges nearly slipped from your grasp as you jumped, swiftly recovering as Aegon grabbed your cloak and pulled you back from crashing into the servant, running at impossible speeds. The woman shouted and scolded both of you as you nearly tripped over your nightgown, bounding down the steps three at a time, laughter echoing in the halls. 

Once Aegon felt that no one was on your trail, he stopped on one of the unguarded battlements of the Holdfast, both of you laughing breathlessly as the adrenaline left your body. Placing the tray of fruits onto the ledge, you uncorked the bottle of wine Aegon chose, spilling some of the bubbly liquid. You took small sips, finally appreciating the refreshing white grape flavor as you and your Uncle snacked on the stolen goods underneath the silent moonless sky.

“My mother plans to betroth us,” Aegon declared through the quiet, making your eyes grow wide in response as you shoved a piece of powder-covered almond cake into your mouth. “She worries that when Rhaenyra comes to power, she’ll try to hurt Aemond and me because we’re boys.” 

You turned to face Aegon, licking the white dust from your lips as you stared at him in confusion. “Why would mother try to hurt you because you and Aemond are boys? You’re family.” They were your mother’s brothers and much younger at that. She would never try to hurt them for any reason at all. 

“Because the people of the realm believe only men can rule and they will do anything to ensure that I do,” he replied, bitterness laced in his tone. 

Sadness overtook your limbs as you slumped onto the ground, your woolen cloak catching on the stone. You could feel Aegon’s hopelessness as if it were your own and leaned your head onto his standing legs.

“They may believe that, but they are wrong. My mother will ascend the throne and I will after her. She will create a new order throughout Westeros and people who think that we cannot rule simply because we are girls won’t exist,” you announced with great conviction, stealing a glance as your Uncle looked over at the thousand twinkling village lights.

“You believe that you will rule after her?” Aegon questioned dispassionately, his lithe digits flicking in disregard. 

“Yes,” you replied without a thought. Your mother had not officially declared you her heir. That would only happen once your grandfather passed, a notion which brought you grief, but you knew she would choose you. After all, you were the eldest. You sighed, touching Aegon’s knee to get his attention. “Besides, you won’t challenge her. If you’re married to me, you’ll still become king.” 

“My mother wants us to marry to make you a prisoner bound in chains of false love and children– to prevent my half-sister from taking the throne when they put me on it. How can you not see that?” He turned to you swiftly, staring down at you with an intense look that struck you to your core. “My existence is opposition enough to Rhaenyra’s claim, and it seems my mother and grandfather will stop at nothing to groom me into the next heir even if it is something I do not want. Rhaenyra will stop at nothing to get you back when they do so.” 

“Queen Alicent will use me as leverage to stop my mother from taking her rightful place…” you whispered aloud as tears brimmed at your lashes. “You’ll still be king even if my mother is Queen. You’ll be married to me! Isn’t that enough?” 

Suddenly, Aegon kneeled before you, taking your shoulders harshly in his grip as his fingers burrowed into your flesh. You winced and tried to lean away, but he stopped you, his face so close you could see the fair, wispy hairs of a growing mustache above his lip. “What don’t you understand about this?” he yelled, his pale cheeks growing blushing with ire. “My mother and grandfather will put me on the throne over Rhaenyra no matter who I am married to, especially a bastard. Mother only wants for us to wed so that yours will not have the option forcefully to take her rightful place with her daughter in the way.”

“I am not a bastard!” you screamed into your Uncle’s face, tears falling freely down your cheeks as you shoved him onto the ground, nor were you your mother’s favorite. “My father is Laenor Velaryon, and my mother Rhaenyra Targaryen. I will rule the Seven Kingdoms and wear the crown of Jaehaerys like grandfather does and how my mother will!”  

Aegon groaned, head tilting to the sky in exasperation as he laid his limp hands between his legs in surrender. There was no point. You wouldn’t see reason. “Of course you are,” he sighed, sitting on his haunches. “Twas foolish of me to say otherwise. Come here and not let these treats go to waste.” 

Aemond sought solace in the library’s serene, dimly lit atmosphere during challenging moments. While he cherished his family, particularly his sister and mother, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his oldest brother exploited his loyal affection. Despite societal expectations dictating that he turn to his elder siblings for advice, Aemond often found himself shouldering Aegon’s responsibilities.

He observed how Luke frequently sought guidance and support from you and Jace when making decisions and taking action. While Luke turned to his siblings for solace following a frightening dream or when Aegon was particularly unkind, Aemond lacked this support. Instead, he assumed the role of mentor, offering guidance to his older brother and comforting his older sister during challenging times. Unintentionally, his family burdened Aemond with the responsibilities of a caregiver, parent, and older brother despite his status as the second son, with seemingly no prospects besides living in the shadow of the firstborn.

In times of turmoil and uncertainty, Aemond sought refuge in the timeless embrace of books. Their weight in his hands provided a reassuring sense of substance, their unchanging inked pages promising stability in a world of instability. The authors had already mapped out the characters’ journeys within those hallowed pages, complete with predetermined destinies and unyielding conclusions.

Immersing himself in these literary sanctuaries, Aemond would momentarily escape into realms where he could envision himself as a formidable dragonlord of Old Valyria, astride a majestic and fearsome beast, commanding the submission of his adversaries. While it was the only place where a fleeting sense of happiness fluttered within him, he hesitated to label it as true to the elusive emotion.

As the moon hung high in the sky, Aemond found himself immersed in his usual pursuit of a tome that delved into the intricacies of war strategy. Unlike his niece, he had always eschewed fanciful tales and romantic novels, who took great pleasure in playfully mocking him as “a bore.” Although he never revealed it, her words stung, and he often retorted with a feigned air of anger.

He harbored a deep-seated jealousy towards his niece and nephews, which he vehemently denied. Underneath that denial, there simmered a potent brew of hatred. Aemond’s royal lineage, as the son of a king, set him apart from them, but that fact seemed inconsequential. They were the offspring of his father’s beloved, his sole child, and the source of his utmost joy. Viserys’ grandchildren held an irreplaceable position in his world.

Training sessions were held in the courtyard, and the king’s attendance was for something other than his and Aegon’s. He was there for Luke and Jace, the sons of Rhaenyra. Whenever there was a showcase of skills to display the dancing prowess Helaena and his niece had acquired, the king’s praises were reserved solely for Rhaenyra’s daughter.

Aemond was fiercely determined to outshine his sister’s children and earn his father’s approval. He longed for acknowledgment and validation, believing he possessed talents superior to those of his nephews and niece. Jace struggled with memorizing High Valyrian glyphs, and while Aemond could speak basic sentences, Luke feared his dragon. At the same time, Aemond charged head-first into mounts that did not belong to him, and his niece’s enigmatic challenges bolstered Aemond’s confidence in his abilities.

He struggled to find any significant flaws in her that would be readily apparent to an adult. Aemond observed that her persistent need for validation, love, and recognition, coupled with a hint of arrogance, could be irritating. However, he realized that the impact of these traits as either faults or strengths depended on the recipient of her unwavering loyalty.

His niece would go to lengths for those she sought admiration from, even losing her strong sense of justice when it came to it. Aemond could recall times when she protected Helaena from Aegon’s taunts and torture, nearly breaking his nose in recompense. She was carefree and joyful, unburdened with the weight of duty and pressure he faced, but when it came to the things that mattered, she showed restraint, unlike Aegon. He felt that one day, her fierceness and unapologetic service to the ones she cared for would be her ruination, which Aemond could not wait for.

Though he loathed to admit it, a part of him yearned to inspire that same devotion in someone. Aemond would never want it from his niece. She was not her father’s child. He did not need her love, but he still craved it. Whether it be from someone he despised or not, he would take it.

Aemond’s eyes wandered across the stacked books until he stumbled upon one that piqued his interest. He carefully reached for it, feeling the rough texture of the old parchment underneath his fingertips. As he flipped through the worn pages, he caught a whiff of the distinct fragrance that only old books carried, which spoke of centuries past. Taking a moment to appreciate the weight of history in his hands, he tucked the stiff leather-bound tome under his arm. He exited the library with his index finger delicately hooked in the ring of his lit candle holder, casting flickering shadows around him. The night air enveloped him as he embarked on the journey back to his quarters, the faint aroma of the ancient book lingering in the air around him.

Though he hid it underneath an annoyed facade, Aegon was terrified. He did not want to be king, nor did he want to marry you. He did not want to marry anyone, for that matter. Yes, you were a rather attractive creature, only when you ate , and frequently, he felt less than in your presence, but you were still a silly little girl who saw things for their surface beauty and not in their entirety. You could not comprehend why his mother and grandfather would still force Aegon onto the throne even if he would wed you. 

Despite what the entire lot of you claimed, you and your brothers were bastards. You had no Velaryon features. There was no hint of your father’s dark skin or white hair. Saying that all four of Rhaenyra’s children took Rhaenys’s attributes was stretched too far for any competent person to believe. But it didn’t matter. No amount of reason from Aegon, the Queen, or the court would convince King Viserys or the rest of you where your true parentage lied, not that it mattered to him. 

Hastily, you wiped away the tears and snot of frustration, nodding timidly to Aegon’s silent apology as you shoved a dried orange into your mouth. The pair of you sat in a noiseless trance filled with the sounds of crickets and intermediate chewing, taking sips of your wine. You refused to be the one to break the quiet, seeing as you weren’t the one who caused it. You allowed Aegon to stew with the lie of calling you a bastard as the bubbly liquid dribbled past your lips. 

Your Uncle’s fingers soon wiped away the drops before they could become sticky against your skin. He tended to do it whenever you made a mess of yourself, often when you ate or drank in his presence. You giggled demurely and smiled as you watched him lick the wine from his fingers. Aegon was always so silly like that. It was rare for him to be seen without a lopsided grin on his sharp face. 

The same hand he used to remove the liquid on your chin found itself on your thigh, gradually working his thumb in circles. It startled you. Aegon never touched you without the intent to hurt or shove you somewhere as your muscles clenched, but when no blow or ridicule followed, you relaxed, resting your head on his pointy shoulder as you often did with your brother. 

You enjoyed the happiness touch could bring and often initiated it with whomever would allow you to. You wanted those you met to feel the same comfort you did and to know that you cared for them so much that actions were the only way for you to explain.

“Can I do something, niece? But it must remain our secret,” Aegon whispered into the darkness. The torches whooshing filled the air as the wind swept through the cold night air, casting eerie shadows on the ancient stone walls. The flames danced and swayed, casting a warm, golden glow illuminating your secretive conversation.

Under the obsidian moonless sky, you uttered, “I didn’t tell anyone where I was going tonight. Don’t you trust me?” Hoping to convey sincerity through your expression, you kept your plans a secret from your mother and brother. To them, you were just in bed, peacefully dreaming of riding Gaelithox across the vast lands of Westeros.

Aegon smiled and released a puff of air out of his nose, which you assumed was a laugh, as he began to bunch the skirt of your nightgown in his fist. You hadn’t a clue as to what he was doing, observing him with a curious but unworried expression as his fingers pulled back the small piece of cloth between your legs. Turning your gaze from your Uncle’s hand to his face, you peered at him peculiarly, your head tilted as you observed his concentrated expression, his breathing becoming faster. Aegon’s cheeks and ears were bright pink, beaming like a beacon in the night as you smiled. Even though his face held an intensely focused expression, you could sense satisfaction radiating from him that flowed into you. 

Aegon’s fingers didn’t feel like much as he spread the skin of your privy parts, dragging his digits up and down like he was stroking a swatch of fabric. The sensation was more foreign than anything, like learning to write for the first time. You could feel every ridge and swirl of his fingerprints against your dry skin as he suddenly dipped down into the hole between your legs. It startled you, his single digit causing a slight burn of pain as you jumped in response. 

Your Uncle’s gaze faced you, his once violet eyes now eclipsed with a black that threatened to swallow you whole. He assured you that you were fine, and you felt him move beside you, helping you stand upright, leaning your back against the battlement wall, and rucking your skirt up again. You watched as he fiddled with his breeches, an inquisitive expression pulling your brows taught as he revealed his private  part. 

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t seen one before. You, Jace, and Luke often bathed together with the help of your maids and Mother, but Aegon’s, his, looked different. It was a lot longer than your brother’s, a bright, rosy color standing straight out from his body, unlike the downturn of your siblings. You looked to him for an answer he refused to give, rubbing his member against yours, creating an uncomfortable, raw sensation. 

You didn’t know that those two things could touch each other. It wasn’t a thought in your mind that you could use it like your hand to grasp another, but as long as Aegon was happy, you were happy, so you allowed him to continue doing what he wanted in silence as he spat on your area. You shouted in protest at such a disgusting action, attempting to push him away, but Aegon held onto your waist tightly, forcing you to glide over his manhood. 

“Aegon, that was gross! Why did you spit on me?” you interrogated, attempting to push him away, but Aegon paid you no mind, continuing to rub himself against you in faster motions and quicker breaths. The more he moved, the more your privy area started to hurt, a burning sensation that reminded you of when you slid your knee across a floor rug after falling. It didn’t feel like nothing anymore, and soon you wanted to stop, pushing your Uncle away, but he held. 

“Aegon, you’re hurting me. Please, stop,” you commanded him. But he ignored your plea, his hand positioning his member at an angle as he pushed forward.

You screamed . 

You screamed and screamed and screamed as you shouted for Aegon to stop, a feeling as if a piece of molten metal had stabbed through you, radiating up your entire body and searing your insides. Your Uncle groaned, releasing a sigh of relief as his hands searched for something beside you. He took a fistful of plum and orange slices and shoved them into your mouth to get you to silence. He covered your lips with his palm, forcing you to chew the fruit if you wished not to choke. 

Aegon waited too long for his release, which Alicent had interrupted hours prior. He was not eager to seek out his niece unless with the purpose of gratification. You were so desperate to please him with whatever he asked of you, even if it would harm another, that Aegon found it endearing. He began to imagine a life with someone as devoted as you by his. Would he finally get the validation he desired from his mother and father? Would you allow him to pursue his lust as he wished and welcome him with dutiful arms each time? Your well-being was no longer a thought in his mind. The idea that he could finally have someone who gave him anything he desired and would never be able to leave was far too intoxicating. 

Aemond strolled beneath the crimson stone arches of the Keep, looking forward to slipping into his warm bed and immersing himself in the world of literature that awaited him. The night was serene, devoid of the moon’s glow, causing Blackwater Bay’s tides to remain calm and the air to hang motionless. It seemed like the ideal moment for reading, and he felt a revitalized spring in his stride.

As Aemond strolled past one of the stone parapets of Maegor’s Holdfast, the sounds of a soft, high-pitched voice caught his attention. It piqued his curiosity, making him ponder whether to ignore the sound or investigate. Suddenly, another voice, more urgent and resonant, joined the first. Aemond immediately recognized it as his older brother, Aegon. It seemed that he was attempting, and likely failing, to charm another maid again. Aemond sighed profoundly and glanced toward his chambers, wondering if he should intervene or retire for the evening. 

It was merely a brief stroll. Aemond could have retired to bed without concern for his older brother’s mischief. Nevertheless, he couldn’t bear the thought of disregarding the plight of the unfortunate servant girl and failing to intervene. Aemond Targaryen prided himself on his sense of honor. With each step, he could feel the weight of exhaustion and the burden of his conscience as he ascended the ancient stairs to the battlement. 

He stopped as he reached the top, finding his niece and brother in a state that would cause even the most experienced man to gasp in horror. Aemond observed how Aegon forced himself onto his younger niece, tears clumping her thick lashes and streaming down her cheeks. Shock gave way to anger as he recalled that same bleary face once jeering at his misfortune of not having a dragon, the girl who laughed at Aemond as his eldest brother gave him a pig to ride instead. 

Exhale. Inhale.

The prince remained motionless, a strange sense of eerie tranquility enveloping him. He felt nothing as he slowly retreated, the sound of the scuffle causing you to turn your head abruptly. Amidst the storm’s chaos, with no respite from Aegon’s relentless, tormenting attacks, your gaze locked with Aemond’s, the taste of your tears and ill-gotten gains mingling in the air.

Exhale. Inhale. 

You finally comprehended the significance of Septa Marlow’s teachings on ‘virtue.’ It was more than just a concept, but a tangible essence that one could embody and manifest in their actions. It represented the honor and reverence for one’s existence, acknowledging the inherent value of being alive and holding steadfast to one’s moral principles. Aegon’s actions cruelly deprived you of this intrinsic moral fiber, callously usurping the very essence of your being for his selfish gain.

Exhale. Inhale.

Aegon’s hand pressed firmly over your mouth, cutting off any pleadings as you desperately looked to Aemond for help. Aegon’s knowledge that it was wrong was evident in how he silenced you, his own set of virtues twisted and contorted into something unrecognizable by an external force.

Exhale. Inhale .

Aemond stood frozen on the staircase, one foot on the lower step and the other on the top. His bright purple eyes darted back and forth between you and Aegon. Inside his head, he couldn’t help but feel that you deserved this. He seethed with anger at all the wrongs you and your brothers had done to him. The injustices he felt burned within him—from the mistreatment of the pig to your unworthy existence, to the love and affection you received from his father, which he believed should have been his, and to your manipulation of his mother’s affections, deceiving her into seeing you as anything other than a sinful bastard.

Exhale. Inhale.

Your eyes, the teary pools of dark essence that threatened to pull him beneath it to feel your desperation and helplessness, tore into his soul and exposed his core for only you to see. Aemond was just a child, as were you, thrust into an ill-fated life before he had a name. No longer did you see your Uncle as someone who desired to hurt you but as someone who had hurt , both of you perpetuating the cycle that existed before your conception. You and Aemond were doomed to suffer unless one rose above and changed the narrative. 

Exhale. Inhale. 

“Aegon. What are you doing?” Aemond’s firm voice sounded, rising to the top step. 

His brother jumped in response, abruptly pulling away from you as you collapsed to the ground with a yelp. Aegon attempted to stuff himself back into his breeches as if that could hide what he had done. The blood on his brother’s pale skin made him unable to conceal it. 

“We… We were just having a bit of fun. Weren’t we, niece? We’re to be betrothed after all,” Aegon expressed as he steadied his breathing. “We’re simply celebrating preemptively.” 

As your eldest Uncle reached out his hand, a pleading look in his eyes conveyed a sense of desperation that might have influenced you in the past. However, this time, you met his imploring gaze with steely determination. Your breath caught in your throat as you resolutely pushed his reaching hand away, refusing to succumb to the unspoken agreement it symbolized.

Aegon turned to look at you; his expression was devastated, as if you had deeply wounded him. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips swollen from biting them, a silent attempt to contain his earlier excitement. It was the first time you had rejected his warmth in years, and it felt like you had torn his heart out. Turning his gaze to Aemond, fury replaced the emptiness in his chest as he realized that neither of you moved from your positions, causing his chin to quiver.

You were Aegon’s friend first. He could not change your mind, regardless of how desperately he wished to, and Aegon refused to subject himself to any more rejection as he pushed past Aemond and hurriedly descended the stairs, taking them three at a time, tail tucked between his legs.

You and Aemond remained in your positions for a moment after Aegon departed. As you stood there, your blue cloak draped over your shoulders and white nightgown concealing your slouched figure, tears streaming down your cheeks uncontrollably. Aemond, unsure of how to offer comfort, hesitated awkwardly. He struggled with his emotions as he silently observed you, feeling conflicted and unsettled by the situation’s intensity. He was at war with himself. 

A part of him found satisfaction in seeing you cry, a small measure of justice after enduring Aegon’s taunts for so long, but the other understood the great injustice and consequences you had endured, even if it seemed you did not. All he could do was noiselessly watch as you cried into the emptiness of the night, words of solace stuck in his throat. 

Your body hurt, sore, and trembling in places you had never felt pain before. You were so tired, so drained of life and energy that you felt as if you could sleep right here within the battlements of the Red Keep, but you knew that you would get into trouble if caught. Sneaking out and stealing wine and food from the kitchens would surely get you a reprimand from your mother, which was something you did not want. You were already in serious trouble for disobeying the Dragonkeepers and did not want to further your punishment.

With a great breath from your lungs, you wiped your tears, putting your legs underneath you and pushing yourself up. Severe pain shot through your body as you fell back to the ground with a shriek, skinning your knee. A fresh wave of sobs erupted from your chest, but you held them in and pulled your quivering limbs to stand against the wall. It felt as if you had been horseback riding for hours, your privy place sore and raw. 

Wincing as you made another step, you looked to where Aemond was, expecting him to be gone, but he was still there, gazing at you intently with a serious look on his freckled face. “I need to go to bed before someone discovers I’m gone,” you declared, wordlessly asking your Uncle to help you with your struggle. 

“You need the Maester,” Aemond countered, unmoving, eyes fixed to your feet. “You’re bleeding.” 

Quickly, you looked down to where he stared and saw your pristine white cotton nightgown stained in places with the crimson liquid of your blood. Your knees busted whenever you landed on the stone, red soaking through for all to see. 

“No,” you refused, tousled hair swaying in the wind as you shook it. “I can take care of it myself. Please, just-” Your lungs hiccuped as they tried to return to their regular pattern.  “Help me, Aemond. Please.” 

Your Uncle did not move. His expression curled into a slight grimace as you managed to stand beside him, placing a hand on his bicep. Some of you expected Aemond to walk away when you touched him, but he did not. Instead, he bristled under your damp palm and sucked in a noiseless gasp of air. 

The prince had not felt the act of a tender touch initiated without something negative associated with it since before he could remember. His mother always consoled him after being teased or Aegon guiding him to his misfortune, never just the simple act of human contact.

“What do you want me to do?” Aemond questioned, turning his stiff posture to you. 

“Don’t let me fall,” you softly commanded, a waiver to your voice. You worried Aemond would leave you if you said or did something wrong. You understood him to be very erratic around you in most situations, but you didn’t blame him for it. You were not always kind. 

Like a vision of divine benevolence, your Uncle wrapped an arm around your torso and hooked it around yours in support as he led you down to the torchlight aisles of the palace, using the shadows as cover. Worried that you could not find your way back the way you came, fresh tears sprung free. There would be no hope of hiding your disobedience from your mother if you returned to your chambers from the typical entrance, and the fear caused you to stop your shaky stride. Aemond turned his annoyed face to your frightened one, eyes wide like a fawn caught within the jaws of a wolf as you threw yourself into his embrace. You just needed someone to hold you, to cradle you like your mother did whenever you hurt yourself playing with your brothers. 

Your Uncle stiffened like the cold stone statues in Sept, under unusual affection and uncertain how to proceed. The last time you shared touch like this was in response to ridicule, and immediately, Aemond grabbed your biceps on instinct and attempted to push you away, but the broken cry you released at his rough handling caused him to pause. It was a noise that cut straight through the years of armoring his soul to the torment he suffered, making his nose burn. You were such a happy child, to the point where it irked Aemond, and to see you reduced to such a state even weaker than his after Aegon’s jests broke his hatred-covered heart. 

Perhaps it was because he now had someone else who shared his silent agony, a bond formed with tears and blood. Or because you finally understood how your actions affected those around you. A dark, twisted part of Aemond relished in your pain and hoped you were the victim of more if it meant you would come to him like this, weak and clinging to him as if he was the very air you needed to survive. 

“My mother… I-” you heaved, salty snot dribbling down into your mouth as you attempted to speak. “I can’t go back to my rooms the way I left. She’ll-she will know that I was out this late, and she’ll be upset with me!”

Aemond gazed down at you incredulously, and his upper lip curled in disbelief at how immature you were. No wonder you and Aegon got along. “Your mother will not be cross with you once you tell her what my brother did. Be reasonable,” he commanded as your cheeks glistened in the yellow glow. 

“No, no,” you shook your head vehemently, causing your dark locs to caress your Uncle’s digits and the smell of your citrus oils to waft into the thick air. It was a smell so uniquely yours, and despite Aemond aversion to such scents, he thought they weren’t as horrendous as he initially believed. “She is all ready upset with me for skipping lessons and disobeying the dragonkeepers. She’ll be furious if she finds I snuck out of my room!”

Your thoughts were like a fortress, impenetrable and infused with a heady titian aroma. You had ventured too far beyond the realms of reason, your breath quickening, leaving you feeling weightless and unsteady on your feet. Emotions surged uncontrollably within you, bubbling over like an overfilled pot of boiling water. You clawed at your neck, your face, and your scalp, leaving painful welts in your wake. The intensity was unbearable. The sight churned your Uncle’s stomach, but he couldn’t look away. You yearned to escape from this overwhelming torrent of emotions, to shed them like a second skin.

Aemond watched in paralyzed horror as you clawed at your flesh like a mange-ridden animal, with dark eyes staring a league away from reality. He had never seen something like this before, and it scared him to the bone. A rush of fear gripped him as he thought that you might dig your fingers into your skull and harm yourself. He grabbed your wrists to stop you, but your fingers yanked the roots of your hair, ripping out chunks of tangled brown. 

Aemond gasped in shock as your chest began to take gradually deep breaths, and a sudden serenity came over you, like a warm blanket in winter. An intense expression painted his shadowy countenance as he wrapped his slightly larger hands around yours, taking the clumps and tossing them aside.

“We shall go to my rooms, and we’ll tend to your scrapes,” Aemond stated in finality as you nodded swiftly, swallowing your briny spit. “We’ll need to get rid of your nightdress too. It is…”

Your Uncle could not finish his sentence, his violet eyes trailing to your slippered feet. You knew what he meant. It was covered in blood , and noiselessly, you agreed to his plan without objection as he led you by a single wrist into the barren Keep. 

This was a pact of secrecy sealed with neither words nor a handshake. It was a silent understanding born of shared anguish that you were now forever bound by eternal suffering at the hands of Aegon. Your existences doomed you and Aemond; with that, you would suffer together for eternity. 

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How is everyone after that? Are we okay?

Rape and SA is typically not done with just the intent of sexual gratification, but to have power over someone. It's for the assailant to feel in control over someone who physically or mentally could not counter them. Whether it's because they've been SAed in the past or they feel like they have no control in their lives could be a reason.

When I heard that fact it hit me close to my heart as I was molested when I was a child. I've thought for my entire life that he did it only because he was curious because he was only about 8-9 years older than me, but I realized he most likely did it to me because I was powerless against him and he knew I wanted to be "cool" like him. I was around 6-7 years old.

My personal experience with sexual assault heavily inspired the dialogue and dynamics in this chapter. (Nobody can tell me it wasn't realistic!) Unlike the reader there was no one to help stop it and help me through it. I was so young I didn't even know it was wrong at the time, and even though he went to trial and was a registered sex offender, his record was cleared when he became an adult. In fantasy and real life, crimes like this still go unpunished.

If you, or anyone you know has been a victim of sexual assault, no matter how long ago it was, please talk to someone professionally or go to the authorities if possible. You truly don't realize how it skews your view of sex, love, relationships, and trust until the damage is done and is extremely difficult to work through. I do want to mention quickly as the story progresses you will see how a single act that one perceives as minor can cause you to do things without realizing that's the real reason why.

Thank you again for reading and all the kind words. I hope I can continue to live up to your expectations. (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp , @britt-mf , @marvelescvpe , @haikyuusboringassmanager , @discofairysworld , @livcookesgf , @nessjo

[gibsongirled]

i’m obsessed with girl dad!schlatt 🤭 can we have a fic where they’re high school sweethearts (reader with a normal job out of the spotlight) and she joins the podcast for the first time and schlatt introduces her to everyone as his wife as she’s never been in a video/mentioned before

would love their daughter making an appearance—maybe either hearing her on the baby monitor or smth and schlatt goes to take care of her

love your writing 🫶 i can’t wait to read anything new you post

ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU !!

description: some say that high school sweethearts don't last, you and Schlatt proved them wrong.

a/n: this was such a cute req !! (the title's the same as the song by the moldy peaches :3)

People have said that high school sweethearts would not make it past high school, and some of them were right. But you and Schlatt were the exception. Hah, suck on that, other ex high school sweethearts.

The two of you met during your sophomore year, having shared the same History class. Schlatt sat in the row behind you and occasionally, the two of you would exchange glances and go on with your day, because high schoolers are awkward like that. You started seeing him more when one of your friends started dating one of his friends, causing you to get to know him through mutual friends.

And eventually, the two of you got closer. A lot closer. You sat on the bleachers at his baseball games, stayed up late with him while he edited his videos, and was his date to prom. That night under the poorly decorated stars in the gym while the DJ played the weirdest tracks you’ve ever heard was one of your core memories. And then the two of you started dating and no one was surprised. You two made it way too obvious how much you liked each other.

When Schlatt started doing Youtube full time, you said that you wanted to be kept out of the spotlight and he agreed with you. He kept his real life and online life separate- only letting the closest friends know that he was dating someone. Of course, those same close friends were invited to the small ‘friends and family only’ wedding you two had a few years later. Another core memory that he has framed and placed on his setup that’s out of view from the camera.

Schlatt went on hiatus when you were pregnant with your daughter. He had scheduled his already made videos to upload at a certain time and was completely offline from the internet after that, being by your side 24/7. The hiatus continued on for a few months after your daughter was born and then the internet started speculating where he disappeared to, because this was far from his usual sparse uploads.

Your late night talks had delved into how to continue streaming without revealing you and the baby. And you decided to fill his viewers in on your existence. He was definitely shocked, but ultimately it’s your decision and that was final.

“Schlatt, who’s with you today?” Ted asked on the latest Chuckle Sandwich episode, waving at you through the camera. “Audio listeners - love you to death - Schlatt has a woman with him.” Of course, Ted knew who you were- having been invited to your small wedding years prior. He was just playing it up for the camera.

You waved back at Ted, smiling as Schlatt grabbed his mic and talked into it. “My wife.”

“Your wife?” Tucker asked incredulously and Schlatt nodded, smiling widely as he pulled you into his side. “My wife! Say hi, toots.”

“Hi, Ted, Tucker.” You beamed, feeling anxiety and excitement mix into one intense feeling. You heard the baby monitor suddenly crackle to life with a loud cry, and you sighed softly, removing your headphones and began to get up when Schlatt stopped you, getting up himself. “I’ll get her. You sit tight, babe.” He whispered to you and made a hand motion to the camera to continue the session without him. You slid the headphones back on, keeping one ear open to listen to what was happening on the monitor.

The three of you continued on making random conversations about all sorts of stuff until Schlatt came back. He kissed you on the top of your head and sat back down beside you.

“How is she?” You asked, looking at him.

“She’s good, just needed a bottle.”

“Ah, okay.”

That small conversation between the two of you was left unedited and Twitter was on fire when the episode came out, because not only was he married, he also had a baby! The two of you were trending for a good while, and you are well loved by his viewers.

You were so glad the two of you gave it a chance back in high school, and you couldn’t think of anyone else to share this life with. Schlatt was your soulmate and you were his.

[queenie-the-court-jester]

Cult of the sacrificial lamb ♡

a/n: there is no actual lamb cult, I just like the title 😭 nsfw, mentioning their cock and titty sizes lmao

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

★poka and juniper the Valais black nose's: the twins are inseparable. You need to bathe one but it's not the other's bath time yet? Suck it up then, 'cause they're both going in the tub now. No guarantee you won't get splashed with water. Poka is colorblind, and juniper is.. interesting. Who knows what's wrong her. The only way you can tell the difference between them is through their eyes. Who's blind and who isn't.

Physical appearance: they're both dark skinned with loosely curly black hair. At this point you should give them a haircut. Juniper has green eyes and poka has blue eyes. Juniper is 130 lbs, while poka is 120 lbs. (Juni's packing some pretty big milkers, DD cup bra. Poka got a 6 incher) 5'5

★violet the harri: violet is a little violent. Her name suits her. Kinda. You could be busy doing your chores and she'd tackle whoever decided to come within a 15 foot radius of your location. She likes to bite too, they out multiple muzzles on her only for her to chew through them. She's only ever docile with you, kinda. Just ignore the multiple bite marks around your arms.

Physical appearance: B cup, 140lbs, white long hair, pale as fuck, and violet eyes, 5'3

★azucar the Columbia sheep: I was hesitant to put azucar here since she's 17, legally a minor. I won't do any nsfw content with her because it makes me uncomfy. She can be the sweetest hybrid you ever met or the meanest. No in-between. Her moods flip like a light switch, unpredictable. She'll cuss you out in Spanish and then t-bag you. Talk about a hormonal teenager

Physical appearance: c cup, 137 lbs, curly white hair, pale skin, black eyes, 5'4

★wehrner the American black belly: he has daddy vibes, like he could bend you over his knee and spank your ass because you didn't address him as 'sir'. Bastard. You often catch him shamelessly fapping behind a tree in the fields, even when you freeze and stare at his impressive dick he doesn't stop, instead, inviting you to join him. And that's the story of how he got the cone of shame.

Appearance: 8 incher, 150 lbs, 5'7, long black and brown hair, grey eyes, peach skin, large horns curled around his ears

★Sally the angora goat: 'it's earthworm Sally! Carrying diseases from Florida to Cali!' That is her theme song fr. She's been fooling around with the neighboring farm's ram's so much you doubt she isn't carrying a couple STDs and maybe rabies too. Although she is very bubbly and cheerful, she just starts so much unnecessary drama with the other animals

Appearance: curly long white hair, pale skin, red eyes, D cup, 120 lbs, 5'6

★opal the Tennessee fainting goat: she's so tiny, and mean. She bit your ass and chest so many times you're always looking around your surroundings before entering the fields. Although recently you discovered a rather popular way to stun her and run away

Appearance: black straight hair (I bet she has split ends), peach colored skin, tiny horns on her head, 90 lbs, 4'10, A cup

★sasha the Australian cashmere goat: Sasha is quiet and stoic, but she doesn't hesitate to step in Incase somebody wants to start a fight. She's Kim's second favorite female (you're the first ofcourse)

Appearance: fluffy platinum blonde hair, pale skin, black eyes, small horns sprout from her head, B cup, 152 lbs, 5'9

★kim the dutch landrace goat: Kim can either be your angle or your debil. Yes that misspelling was intentional. More than once has he tried humping you, even convincing the girls to try and help him, except you keep running away. STOP RUNNING AWAY. Is it so bad he wants to impregnate you with his children!?

Appearance: long silky black-blond hair, bro is ripped, large horns curl around his head, 160 lbs, 5'11, 7 incher

•°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆ •°. *࿐ ⋆

[lizaluvsthis]

Art dump from @dreamteamredstinger 's Triple Threat AU!

The song "Big Brother Best Friend Forever" sang by Twilight Sparkle from My little pony- yes- yes I hear angst.

(This is Eratica's Brother / Abel )

This part is after the events of Puzzles- peach giving his forehead a lil smooch (i suck at foreheads-)

Anyways I missed this ship- AAAAA

And then theres also this one because eratica is very beloved by many people

[lovebvni]

" ITS BRUTAL OUT HERE " - pick a pile

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│ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ...

╰─────────────────

[ 🖊 ] created ⋮ 14.8.22

[  ] published ⋮  14.8.22

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨ ✰ Arsyn   ⋆  ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•

┊       ⋆     welcome to my blog !

┊     °

hey loves, so because i 1, got new tarot decks, and 2 want to call you guys out, im doing this. also - heads up before i even start - spirit said there's gonna be a pile where there are little/no callouts bc they're actually doing great. just some advice/motivation to keep them going

Hello! Welcome to a pick a pile. This is a general reading, everything should be taken with a grain of salt. Hundreds of people may read this, everything I say in your pile(s) may NOT resonate. Today we don't have questions. we're just going callouts. so prepare yourself, i know some of yall are soft.

along with these questions i will give things that may draw you to your pile. the alice in wonderland tarot has different cards but pretty much the same meaning. dont be shocked if instead of the hanged man i say suspention or something like that. i will be using tarot and oracle cards.

now please take everything with a grain of salt!

breathe in, now out, now pick a pile or two.

pile 1 ; pile 2 ; pile 3

hi pile 1!

confirmation for your pile: lowkey funny, life 'falling apart', consequences for your actions, business man/woman, equality, cycles, bakugou, passion, 'im always right, i know what im saying'

oracle: you are good enough - full moon in virgo

tarot: the hierophant, temptation, 7 of flowers, 5 of spears reversed, 9 of flowers

alright bros, the first thing i have to say is 1, you're not always the cause. bad things happen to good people and i know it sucks but it helps you grow. if only good things happened then you'd probably be boring as hell. i hear some of you guys can be because you cant keep a conversation going. the thing is, you may be a victim MOST OF THE TIME but that doesnt mean ALL THE TIME!! you can be wrong in an argument, you can be right in an argument. but it changes. you're a very driven, smart, confident person in most areas but that doesnt mean because you're the right person to be a firefighter but not a baker. 7 of flowers is saying dont back down from the things you KNOW you are right in, but when someone makes a valid point. take it, it can help you. being passionate is a good thing, but dont be ignorant.

temptation is something thats drawing you in, that one day will be negative. maybe its joining the football team but you'll get a serious injury. do not let anyone or anything tempt you that has high risks for pain in the long run. im not saying dont join that football team, but dont put yourself into situations that wont benifit you in the long run. there's a good and bad to everything. do not fall into or back into negative energies/things that didnt help you before. they sure as hell wont help you now

ngl i have no idea what this pile means during the second part

pile 2

alright so confirmation: tired, faking happiness, evolution, "PUT THOSE GRIPPERS AWAY", hawks, manifestation, abuse, Christmas, MHA, movies, memories, nsfw content, love desire, caring heart, makeup, procrastination, seven deadly sins

oracle: a time for healing - balsamic moon, expect powerful chance - new moon eclipse

tarot: 10 of spears, 7 of flowers, 3 of hedgehogs

so this is the pile whos done mostly nothing wrong. when i say mostly, i mean bc everyones made at least one mistake in their life. ofc theres still a callout. STOP BEATING YOURSELF UP! STOP BELITTLING YOUR PAIN, YOUR TRAUMA, THE THINGS THAT HURT YOU MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY EVERY SINGLE DAY!! let go of the past, its gone. its ending. get over it. that friend isnt coming back, they weren't right for you. let go of the past, accept it, and move forward. thats just some advice.

pile 3

hey pile 3

confirmation: false/negative manifestations, intrusive thoughts, self destructive behavior, gay, peaches (that one song omg), yung gravy, emotions, love, communication or lack of communication, birthdays, parties, celebrations

oracle: believe in the impossible - blue moon

tarot: 2 of cups, 4 of flowers, knight of teacups reversed

okay i got flowers in every pile, anyways this piles energy is of a pair.. two people or two piles? maybe you picked another pile. but its a harmonious pair. you guys may be for a long time, maybe shifting together, maybe you work on a lot of projects together? i heard you guys dont talk much but when you do its fun. you guys are a great pair. hold on to each other. i feel like once this pile overcomes toxic/negative behaviors they will shift. it depends on how fast you get rid of them/start manifesting positively.

change the way you see things, the emotions and reactions you have to things that happen. if you wake up in your cr and not your dr say something like "bro what?? why am i in my cr? thats odd, hasnt been like this before." see everything that happens in a different light. if you think that you saw something that was a sign btw, it was. take it and use it how you think its fit. use your talents, you know you can! practice the fun things you want to do one day. practive makes perfect!! get off your ass and do something. vent through an art form. you dont have to use words. you're doing nothing right now. you NEED to do something, but take a break from stressing yourself. its not helping anything

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

You and Me

AN: I felt compelled to write something based on the best song off of ATE so, here we are. Also, purple haired Changbin had a vicious hold on me so.

Synopsis: Changbin isn't what you're used to. He's uncomplicated. Fun. Casual. However, maybe that's what you need.

General tags and warnings: Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader, situationship/casual dating, one mention of past alcohol consumption, barely there angst and mentions of a breakup and not much plot.

Smut tags and warnings: While there isn't explicit powerplay, Reader does take charge and Changbin is more on the submissive side, petnames, dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple and breast play (f. receiving), Reader is very into Changbin's body (she's just like me fr), strength kink, arm kink of sorts, piv sex without a condom and creampie.

Word count: 3k.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

“Hey!” he yells, shooting you a nasty scowl that only makes you laugh before turning his attention back to his needlessly massive television, “You totally cheated!” 

Things with Changbin are simple. Easy. Freeing. 

“It's not my fault you suck at Mario Kart, Bin,” you respond through laughter that causes your cheeks and stomach to start hurting. Your amusement only grows as you watch him still lose to you even though you're playing while laughing at him and his horrible gaming skills. 

You're not sure why he insists on playing when you both know how trash at it he is. 

“I swear you cheated,” he mumbles under his breath, though it's loud and clear enough for you to hear. You playfully bump your shoulder against his, “How would I even cheat in this game?” you bite back a giggle when you notice his scowl deepen from the corner of your eye, “I just think someone is a sore loser and can't handle getting their ass kicked,” you sing-song. 

“I am not a sore loser,” he argues, fingers mashing the buttons of his controller as his eyes focus on Bowser inching closer to fifth place with every button he all but smashes. “You're just a dirty, lying cheater,” he grumbles, his lips forming a thin line as his attention briefly shoots to your choice of Peach comfortably in second place. 

You elect not to give into his accusations. Simply letting your actions speak for themselves and smirking when you cross the finish line in first place. Again. Changbin crosses his arms and refuses to look at you for a few moments and you try your hardest not to laugh at the pout on his face and the way his purple bangs shadow his eyes. 

“Changbin,” you start, the struggle to hold back your laughter evident to even your own ears. 

“One more game.” 

The corners of your lips tick up without your consent, “Changbin, we've already played five rounds and I won four of them,” you respond. 

“Just one more. I know I can win,” he argues desperately. You don't think you've ever seen anyone take Mario Kart this seriously. His ego must be terribly bruised right now. 

“We had a deal, Binnie,” you remind him, your smile widening, “A deal that was actually over two, whole rounds ago.” 

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically in resignation and this time you do let the giggles bubble out of you. You can't remember the last time you allowed yourself to just…have fun before meeting the man next to you after one too many glasses of wine and swiping on Tinder. 

Minho had been incessantly nagging you to put yourself out there after things crashed and burned with your ex-boyfriend of five years. Saying that you were wrecked after he broke up with you last year would be putting it kindly. You're honestly not sure how you survived that but, a stubborn man who is arguably more cat than human and who loves you more than he'll ever admit likely had something to do with it. 

‘The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new. Or, on top of them. Whatever works for you.’ His advice was pretty horrible but, after spending these handful of months with Changbin, you can't say it totally sucked. 

You're startled out of your thoughts by a firm hand on your thigh, plush lips kissing along your jaw. You're not sure exactly when he moved but, you aren't complaining. Placing your controller down and letting your fingers run along his purple locks. 

“I really like this colour,” you say a little breathlessly, letting him push you down onto his couch and make himself comfortable between your thighs. You've found that it's incredibly easy to get in the mood when it comes to Changbin. A few kisses and groping at his massive arms and you're ready to go.  

He laughs softly against your neck, eager hands shoving your shirt up and exposing your breasts to the cool air of his apartment, “I've noticed. If I was a more insecure man, I think you cumming extra hard the first time you fucked me after I dyed it would hurt my feelings,” he muses against your skin, his warm breath combined with the way his firm hands gently knead your tits causing your mind to grow hazy and your clit to buzz to life. 

“I mean, it's still you that made me cum so, there's no real reason to feel insecure anyway,” you respond with a snort, arching into him when his soft lips press firmer kisses along your collarbone. Usually endearing eyes becoming heavier with desire with every second his mouth and his hands remain on your more than willing body. “True but, a lesser man would,” he replies, sounding increasingly more uninterested in this conversation and instead focusing on your hardened nipples and spanning as much of his hands as he can along your waist. 

You can't say you blame him. The fog creeping into your mind worsens when his warm mouth eventually takes the plunge and envelopes one of the nipples he's been sneaking glances at since you showed up braless hours ago. The determination to make sure you're enjoying yourself is one of your favourite parts of Changbin, as selfish as that may be. He's purposeful, even in moments where his passion overrides the rational side of his brain. His fingers experimenting with how to caux the most visceral reactions from you, his mouth testing to see how soft or hard you like it. Even all these months later, his curiosity and desire to see just how much and in how many ways he can make you feel good makes your head spin. 

The light drag of his teeth along your nipple causes your entire body to jolt. Your pussy clenching around nothing when his heavy gaze finds your lidded one through the wisps of his purple hair. God, it looks so fucking good on him. The memory of you two fucking each other close to unconsciousness the first day you saw him sporting it is a fond one and, makes for phenomenal spank bank material when he's too busy to let you bounce on his cock or fold you in half. Not one to be outdone, however, your hands drift from where they'd been clingy to his ridiculously hot shoulders (seriously, you never knew shoulders could be this attractive) to palm his biceps greedily. Changbin knows what his arms do to you. He knows just how stupid they make you and, you're 99% sure he wore this shirt that clings to him like a second layer of skin for that reason. 

It's so incredibly easy to lose yourself in the ministrations of his mouth and his hand and his delectable body. To lose yourself in him. Goosebumps rise in his wake as one of his hands hurriedly moves down your overheated body until it reaches the waistband of your tiny shorts. He isn't the only one who's picked up on a weakness or four during the months you've been frequenting each others’ beds. You learned fairly quickly that Changbin is obsessed with your ass and thighs and, will attach himself to them whenever you give him the chance. It's done wonders for your confidence.  

You'd pout at him for freeing your nipple from his mouth if he wasn't speeding his way down your body in record time. Every place he presses a wet, hurried kiss into burns and you know you don't really have any ground to complain because anticipation simmers in your veins when he helps you get rid of your shorts and discard them unceremoniously onto his floor. His eagerness might be your favourite characteristic of his, actually. He really acts like if he doesn't get his mouth on your pussy, he'll simply perish. Evidenced by the way his hungry gaze locks onto your dripping folds and he makes himself comfortable on his stomach. If your clit throbs at the sight of his arms flexing as they grip your spread thighs, that's between you and yourself. 

“You know, you never have to win a bet in order for me to eat you out,” he says, voice hoarse and heavy, the faintest hints of his breath hitting your bare pussy prompting your thighs to quiver. Glancing down at him, it takes a herculean amount of effort not to just grip him by his roots and shove him into you but, you persist, “I know,” you breathe, your fingers lacing themselves in his hair and toying with it, “but, it feels even better when you do it after I've won one of our little bets,” you finish with lopsided smile that you're certain is dripping with smugness. 

The whimper that escapes his plush lips is almost as satisfying as finally feeling him touch you. Changbin is excited and messy when he eats you out. He does it without abandon and without much build up. His fingers are determined to leave themselves imprinted into your thighs with how harshly he's holding onto you. His display of strength fueling you to tighten your grip in his hair and tilt your hips until there's virtually nowhere for him to go. Not that he'd want to go anywhere else based on the way he lavishes your clit with licks and his spit. The vibrations from his groans adds to the tension building in your entire body, shuddering moans of his name and an array of colourful curse words spilling from your lips. 

Your grip on his hair grows harsher when he sucks on your clit, albeit gently. If the pain is too much for him, he doesn't show you any indication of that. If anything, his mouth is even more determined and he drags you closer to him. You've always wondered in the back of your mind if just watching how strong he is would be enough to make you cum. You should really test that hypothesis one day. If nothing else, it would breed interesting results. 

His tongue presses into your clit in time with one of his sucks, forcing you to focus your attention back on the very hot man smearing your wetness on his face while the character selection screen watches on. His eyes haven't left you once. The lust in them is palpable and, your stomach twists pleasantly with the knowledge that he wants you just as much as you always want him. Even as your hold of his beautiful hair grows more frantic and harsh. Even as he uses his strength to hold you down so that he can make out with your pussy to his heart's content. Even when your own eyes flutter shut and the waves grow increasingly higher. His eyes never stop watching you. 

You're almost certain that and a hard press of his tongue are eventually what do you in. 

Changbin is never one to quit. He keeps kissing and lapping at you even through your oragsm, although not nearly as intensely as he was a minute ago. The buzz you feel to the very tips of your fingers is prolonged every time his soft lips press themselves into you and he loudly moans into your dripping folds. It's only when you weakly pull at his strands and tiredly call his name that he finally relents. Leaving your clit with a final kiss that makes you giggle. He truly loves to do the most. 

“Come here,” you gently command and he follows willingly. You kiss him lazily. Your tongue in search of every bit of your taste on his. Hands leisurely feeling as much of his firm torso and plump ass as they can. You smile into him when he jumps as your hands make their way under his too-tight shirt. Still, he lets you peel him out of it. Only separating from your mouth briefly so he can toss it somewhere to be forgotten about until after the two of you have exhausted each other. 

The sight of his bare chest causes your slick walls to clamp down painfully around nothing. The outline of his thick cock through the sweats low on his hips makes you realise, rather viscerally, just how empty you are and how much you'd very much like to be filled. Now. 

“What are you–” 

His question dies on his tongue when you successfully maneuver yourself onto all fours. His quiet ‘fuck’ brings a smile to your face. It's always fun using his weaknesses against him. 

“You look shit, you look so hot like this,” he practically whines, shuffling behind you in record time. Based on the rustling of his sweats and the lack of clothing joining the mess on his floor, you assume he just haphazardly tugged them down enough to free his cock. The image causing saliva to pool in your mouth and more of your wetness to trickle down your sticky, inner thighs. 

“That's very sweet of you to say, baby,” you coo, shooting him a look over your shoulder that prompts his cock to jump. Cute. “Now are you just going to stare at my ass or are you planning to actually fuck me?” You ask with a saccharine edge to your tone, swaying your hips for good measure. 

You bite down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard at his overeagerness. He shuffles closer to you in record time, placing a warm, firm hand on your hip while the other guides his fat tip to your pulsing hole. Whatever amusement you were feeling quickly dissipates when he starts to push into you. His hand shaking with every inch of himself he sinks into you. The stretch is always so fucking good with Changbin. Despite who knows how many times you've let him split you open, the first few strokes always take a bit of adjusting. 

“How are you always so tight?” He gasps out when his thighs finally meet the backs of yours. Both of his hands grabbing your hips fiercely in an attempt to ground himself as he shallowly thrusts into you. “And so fucking wet,” he groans, his entire body vibrating with the effort it takes not to cum immediately. You've learned that Changbin's stamina is simultaneously impressive and terrible. Terrible in that it honestly doesn't take all that much to make him cum. And impressive in that it only takes a few minutes until he's hard and ready to go again. It adds to the myriad of reasons he's so fun to fuck. 

“I'll tell you when you tell me how your cock always fills me ah, Binnie,” you mewl in response, your lashes fluttering when he picks up his pace and starts to stretch you out properly. His only response is a guttural moan and snap of his hips that forces you forward onto his couch's armrest. The smile on your face must look delirious with how fantastic he's making you feel, down to the very tips of your toes. You love when he gets desperate. Your walls sporadically clamping down on him with every ramble he mutters into the skin of your back and the sweaty, hard hold he maintains of you. 

“Fuck,” he gasps when you intentionally tighten around him and push your ass back onto him, “You're so–I'm–I'm close,” he heaves into your skin. His sweat drenched hair tickling your skin and his arms flexing around you with the effort it takes for him not to just cum into your perfect pussy. The constant twitching of his cock inside you is delicious and you feel like a woman possessed. 

“But Binnie,” you whine with a pout for good measure, batting your eyes at him over your shoulder, “It was just getting so good. You know I love when you fuck me with this fat cock of yours,” you emphasise your point by pressing back against him. A cocktail of desire and delight sitting in the pit of your stomach watching the way his entire body shudders and said fat cock twitches non-stop. 

“Don't you want to make me cum on it, bunny?” 

And just like he snaps within an instant. 

Your moans are swallowed by the fabric of his couch, fingers clawing into the material as the obscene noises of his skin slapping against your and his cock bullying your pussy echo through his living room. But your favourite part is always the sounds. His deep moans intertwined with his fucked out whimpers always make you throb in the best, most lust-induced way possible. The haziness clouding your brain makes it difficult to catch everything he imprints into your skin but, what does hit your ears is more than enough to send one of your hands between your thighs and draw frenzied circles into your swollen clit. 

He crumbles first with a broken, slurred moan of your name. His arms keeping you pressed to his hot, sweaty chest as his cock unloads rope after rope of cum into your more than ready pussy. The whines and jolts of his hips, pushing his release as deeply as he can into you, are what spark your own toe-curling orgasm. Well, that and a little help from your more-than-likely-pruney fingers. His grip on you tightens as your walls milk him for whatever he has left. You wouldn't be shocked if his hold on you was the only thing keeping you from completely floating up into the clouds. 

For a moment, your respective, laboured breaths are the only sounds in his living room (besides the long forgotten Mario Kart, obviously). Changbin, to no one's surprise, recovers first and pulls out of you as gently as he can. You always hate this part. Still, you cringe a little when he does. He's still for a second after that and you feel a smile splitting your face in half. 

“I can feel you staring,” you mutter, turning your head to look at him. There's no hint of shame to be found on his face and it just makes you smile harder. 

“Well obviously,” he responds with a huff, “I have a very hot woman on my couch who just let me cum inside of her. Of course I'm going to stare,” he says as though you asked him the most basic question he's ever heard. 

“You're so unserious,” you snort. 

“That's why you like me so much,” he retorts with an incredibly cheesy eyebrow wiggle. 

Well, he's not wrong. 

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi

[elsfleur]

⋆·˚ ༘ * ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD

best friend!ellie x reader

summary: ellie williams has had enough of heartbreak for her entire lifetime, vowing to never fall in love again, her best defense mechanism: but you were so soft, so inevitable.

content warning: story inspired by this loser!ellie headcanons post by the lovely syd (@elliesflower) includes light mentions of smut, pining and traumatic past relationships

word count: 1,006

🪷 ʾ ⠀

a bundle of sharp ends and rough edges, inconveniently timed jokes and tempered anger management, your ellie was a sight to behold in her armour, though you preferred the skin beneath it: bruised and relentless, tarnished by survival, tender like a kiss. if she had been slightly more courageous she might’ve noticed your gaze– but she was not. claiming herself cowardly damaged goods ellie williams would smudge sketches of you from tears who dared misbehave into free fall mid drawing.

she had your features memorised like a map, the valley of your cheeks, crease of your eyes, mountains of the lips, pictured herself constantly visiting your limbs for sightseeing and painted you in sunset colours like a dream as if she was not living her own personal nightmare.

you were dancing with dina now, her hands by your waist as you grinded down her crotch painstakingly in slow motion to the rhythm of jesse’s playlist, ellie sucked in a breath and gulped down her beer as she steadied herself. it had barely been forty eight hours since you found yourself crying by ellie’s lap in the middle of the night over a long due breakup, her murder jokes becoming funnier the more tired you became, no one would’ve guessed by your radiance and movement just how heartbroken you had been, but your best friend knew, and she was glad for your peace of mind even if it was an intoxicated response.

you smiled at her once your body finally swayed back up, shaking away the brunette’s grip and offering up your arms to a flushed ellie who anticipated your request and shook her head.

“nope, i don’t dance”

“please” you hummed and she shuddered, erupting in pathetic shivers through every inch of skin. you had grabbed her drink and placed it down before taking her hands into yours and pulling them towards your waist, bright red replacing pale peach all across her cheeks with the thoughts that raced through ellie’s mind unwelcomed, would you plead like that with her tongue by your cunt too?

“you’re my favourite person in the world” you whispered by her ear closing the gap between your bodies as the song switched to something slower, ellie smiled in response fiddling with the belt loop of your jeans “should’ve dated you instead of that asshole” and with that joke, she choked.

🪷 ʾ ⠀

you had been crying again, legs carrying you towards ellie’s doorstep for the third time this week, she had fallen asleep on the couch somewhat anticipating your arrival ready to answer the door after glancing at the bright clock alarming 2:54 a.m. she swung it open with a yawn and stared you down: tousled hair of sleepless nights tossing, swollen lips and glossy eyes in a white nightgown too naked for jackson weather you looked like a fallen angel left abandoned at her doorstep. the softness of your voice snapped her of thoughts, the smallest hi els coming out through lumped throat, you fell towards her arms and latched on.

she held you as one held a star; not quite sure what to do with the sharp ends, not quite able to stare at its light, cutting herself at your vertices and squinting eyes at your sight to refrain from further falling.

“baby” ellie cooed lightly shoving you towards the couch, a lead which you complied plopping down the soft fabric alongside her “she never deserved you anyways, remember that one time she said your favourite ice cream was overrated? frankly a bitch” you giggled in reponse.

“no no i’m serious, or that other time we found series dvds and binge watched friends and she said ross didn’t cheat on rachel? or when you were cold and pouty and she just told you she couldn’t control the weather? seriously it is astounding how you saw any redeeming qualities in her, what was she like super good in bed?”

your laughter ceased, suddenly embarrassed “she never even” you started but shook your head, though ellie would not let you drop it now, widened eyes and amused smile growing.

“what?”

“ellie, just drop it”

“she never even what? made you cum?”

your silence answered her question louder than a nod could have and she choked back laughter whilst you dug your blushed face into the nearest throw pillow, endless musings on how you must be awfully frustrated and jesus angel why didn’t you tell me i would’ve had you break up with her if i knew, could’ve given her lessons- ow! don’t hit me.

“it’s not like you’re a fucking sex expert, williams” you mocked instinctively, rolling your eyes at your amused best friend.

“sure, i could still for certain make you cum though”

“stop fucking around”

“i’m not, i’m being serious!” the laughing stopped as she licked her lips “i would show you but i’m not a rebound girl”

this was the point ellie should’ve guessed it was a dream, your bright eyes looking back at her glinting at desire in a way that bordered filthy, a hunger unbeknownst to most people in their entire lifetime while the plead show me escaped past your reddened lips. she didn’t even hesitate before pressing against you, breath hovering your face as she propped herself up on top of your layed body radiating warmth like forest fires attaching themselves to every cell of her skin, the second your lips found eachother fireworks exploded by her insides.

you whimpered into her mouth, a begging, and she complied eagerly lowering herself trailing wet kisses down your neck till it stained them purples and reds, she wished to paint you whole with her tongue, hands reaching between your thighs and squeezing, your loud reaction stealing a curseful moan from herself.

and then the fucking doorbell rang. and you dissolved. and she rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock and there it was 2:52 a.m. she opened the door and her angel appeared again, though now aware none of what was wished upon would come true at her appearance.

🪷 ʾ ⠀

[pileofboneswrites]

IN THE WIND_oneshot.yellowstone

SUMMARY — loosely inspired by the song cheyenne by ian munsick. every year he never asks anything from you, resigned to the routine you've created; you pull into the yellowstone, park your trailer, and spend all your time with him, and then when august rolls around you pack it all in, and leave. this year, instead of dancing around the heartache, he [and a few others] ask you to stay.

PAIRING — fem!reader x lee dutton

WORD COUNT — 4.1k

WARNINGS — established friends with benefits type relationship, lee has been in love with reader since they met, pinning, allusions to smut, lee watches reader get dressed – reader puts on a show, no use of y/n — everyone calls her honey as a nickname, mentions of heartbreak, mentions of murder (not overly graphic), mentions of past abuse, angst

you put your truck in park, tucked along the side of the house like you always do. you open the trailer up, lead you horse peaches out into the fenced off area out front, and then wander up the front steps and into the house. you kick off your boots, and pad through the hallway, taking in the view from the living room windows. you enter the open concept kitchen, grabbing a beer and setting to work on tidying up. you start with the dishes, there aren't as many as there were last time.

next, you sweep, the build up of dirt he's tracked into the house has you frowning. after, you throw laundry in — your own clothes first of course. next is vacuuming, followed by grabbing the load of groceries from your cold box in your truck. lastly, you step into the shower, watching the setting sun as you deep condition your hair and shave your legs. when you wrap yourself in your towel you hear the front door open, a pair of boots falling heavily on the hardwood floor.

"honey," lee breathes out, a wide smile on his face as he steps into the warm room, and enveloping you in his arms, his lips latching onto your own.

"hi," you giggle, through pecks to your lips, followed by him slipping his tongue into your mouth.

you allow it for a few moments, relishing in his closeness. you untangle yourself from him, making him frown cutely at you. you give him a teasing smile, and peck him on the lips once more.

"i just swept, and washed those floors of yours, lee dutton. i'm not impressed," you slip past him in your bath towel, tsking at him as you go.

"i'm sorry honey, allow me to make it up to you," he says, a devious smile on his lips, as he follows you into his bedroom.

he catches you by the end of the bed, arms circling your waist as he pulls you flush with his chest. you look up at him throughout your eye lashes, and he bites his lip looking down into your eyes. he dips his head, resting his forehead on your shoulders, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. you want so badly to give in, but you have plans tonight.

"sorry cowboy," you murmur, pushing him away, turning towards his closet—where you keep a sizable amount of your clothes. "you need to shower, and get dressed."

"dressed? for what?" he groans dropping onto the end of the bed, slipping off his boots.

"the carnival? you promised tate last summer we'd be there to ride on the rollercoaster with him?" you say, glancing at him over your shoulder.

"you remember that?" he asks, rasing an eyebrow at you.

you giggle, dropping your towel to put on your underwear. lee moans quietly at the view of your naked body. you slowly pull them up, bending over to give him a full view of your bum. he sucks in a sharp breath, eyes never leaving your skin as you tease him.

you nod, "i do, and he's only text me about it everyday since – so y'know, it'd be hard to forget."

"yeah..." he agrees with you absentmindedly, eyes clinging to your chest as you twist your bra around your chest pulling it up. "hard to– hard to forget."

you make a show of putting your arms through the straps, and pulling the cups up. lee hangs off your every move, his fascination with your body not ending even with your boobs covered. his eyes rake up and down your figure, his eyes dark, and his bottom lip betweeen his teeth as he works through something silently. you feel smug with satisfaction as you step closer, slinging one leg over either side of his hips. you sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, bringing his attention back up to your face.

"baby," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.

"mhmm," he hums, hands landing on your hips.

"you promised,"

he nods, "i did,"

"but?"

his grip on your hips tightens, briefly, then retract.

"nothing, honey, i can wait." he leans in closer to your ear, "but tonight, i'm not going to be able to stop myself."

a shiver goes up your spine, goosebumps exploding over your arms. you missed that. he easily lifts you off his lap, setting you beside him. he stands, heading into the bathroom to shower, the door clicking closed calmly behind him. you sit there, surprised by his show of restraint. he doesn't normally do that, normally he would have had your face pressed into the mattress in a seconds notice. after taking a second to collect yourself, you stand up, and walk back over to the closet.

you pick out a dark green summer dress, a pair of brown cowboy boots in better shape than the ones you'd worn here. you grab a cardigan, and a cowboy hat that matches your boots. you then go back into the kitchen, and grab your cellphone from where you'd left it charging. two missed messages from monica dutton long.

hi aunt honey it's tate! excited to see you and uncle lee tonight rollercoster here we come!

hey, it's monica, just wanted to let you and lee know we'll be by the ticket booth. tate's very excited, see you at 9.

ten minutes pass, and lee is walking down the hallway. he's wearing a button that coincidentally matches your dress, his good hat and his best boots. he looks refreshed, the stress of the day washed away, and a easy smile on his face.

"well don't you look handsome," you smile, stepping into his embrace.

he kisses you deeply, your knees go weak, his arm sliding around your back steadying you. he smirks into your lips, and you pull back rolling your eyes playfully at him. you forgot how much you enjoyed being here, being with him.

"honey, you are the most beautiful woman i have ever met; dressed up like this, or covered in sweat and dirt from a long day."

your heartaches at his confession; it's temporary, you'll be gone again come the end of august. then the cycle continues. you smile, enjoy it now. lee's always been your favourite, it's why you keep coming back. he always knows what to say to make your knees weak, and how to break your heart.

"we'd better go," you say, ignoring the disappointment in his eyes as you walk away.

you're always walking away.

x

"i had so much fun!" tate yells, hoisting the matching bear to yours over his head.

"and now he's going to take forever to get to sleep tonight," monica laughs, "thanks for the sugar rush, aunt honey."

"pshhh, he'll crash the minute you get him in the truck." you reply, "and no problem, i live for these moments,"

"it was good seeing you, honey." monica says, pulling you into a hug.

"you too mon, we need to get coffee before i leave." you tell her, giving her a light squeeze.

"why don't you stay?" she asks, watching as tate makes a beeline for the truck, climbing into the backseat as kayce follows behind him, chatting with lee.

"i can't," you can't tear your eyes away from lee's back as he talks with his youngest sibling, which doesn't go unnoticed by his sister-in-law.

"why not? you and lee act like a married couple and besides; you're perfect for each other." her tone is gentle, like she's talking to an easily spooked animal.

"because..." you debate telling her the truth, the real reason you run every year, and your heart wins out over your rational thinking. "i know that he'll always be there this way, i don't think he'd want me if he had me fulltime."

"how could you possibly think that? lee looks at you like you personally hung the moon, sun and stars. he's so in love with you," she says, smiling softly at you. "you have to know that by now. he turns into a completely different person when you're gone."

"i know he is, i see it in the way he looks at me. i just– i'm terrified of ruining what we have. i'm not an easy person to love, i've been told that my whole life; i'm impulsive, stubborn, bossy, rude, selfish.... he doesn't deserve someone like that. he deserves someone who's sweet, and kind, and... good." you say, "someone like him."

"i don't know... the way you describe yourself; that's not the person i see. i see someone so full of love, and life, someone that helps others no matter what, honey, i've literally seen you give someone the shirt off your back. whoever's pumped your head full of that hate, was trying to convince you you're evil, when you're not. you're none of those things."

"i appreciate that, i'm not sure you're entirely right, but thank you." you shoot her a half smile, and squeeze her shoulder before you break away, walking towards lee's truck.

he meets you halfway, entwining your fingers, and pulling you closer.

he smiles at you, "that was fun,"

"i knew you'd have a good time,"

"thank you for making me come tonight,"

"thank you for winning me a big ass teddy bear," you reply, holding the giant black bear. "i love him, and i'm going to call him dusty,"

"dusty, eh?" he qestions, pulling your door open for you.

"do you have any better ideas?" you quiry, sliding into your seat.

he leans against the passenger door, his head tilted to the side as he thinks. after a few seconds he shakes his head, ducking down to kiss you once. twice. three times before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.

"wanna grab a pizza on the way?" he asks, and you nod excitedly. "barneys?"

"barneys!" you say it at the same time, and he laughs, patting your left thigh.

x

three weeks later, you're sitting in one of the muskoka chairs up by the main house, a blanket over your legs as you and tate roast marshmallows.

"yours is burning!" tate says, pointing to your marshmallow.

"i love them burnt!" you reply, watching as it catches fire.

"that's weird," tate makes a face, "burnt ones are gross,"

"nuh-huh, they're the best!"

"no! golden ones are!"

"ewwww," comes lee's voice from behind the two of you, "marshmallows? gross!"

"i agree with you there," kayce says, from his chair across the fire pit.

"i second it, too sweet." john adds from beside kacey, and tate looks shocked.

"grandpa! you don't like marshmallows?"

john shakes his head, a disgusted look on his face.

"that's devastating," tate says, and monica lets out a snort of laughter.

"who taught you that word?" she asks, trying to keep a straight face as he stares her down.

"aunt honey, she says it a lot." tate shrugs, turning back to the fire.

monica gives you a quizzical look, as lee sits down beside you, between your chair and hers on your right side. so i don't say fuck in front of your kid, you mouth at her, and she nods in understanding.

"cause i'm trying not to corrupt you," you add, wrapping an arm around his shoulders to give him a quick hug.

"yeah, besides, his dad does a good enough job on his own." lee chuckles making kayce roll his eyes, and flip his brother off while tate's looking away.

"how long are you down for now?" john asks, when the conversation dies down.

your eyes snap to lee, who's looking staight ahead into the darkness. monica and kayce exchange a look before they both take turns glancing at you, and lee.

"uh, 'm not sure just yet," you say awkwardly, your shoulders tensing automatically.

you feel like a dear caught in the headlights. john nods, his attention being stolen by rip who materializes next to him. feeling like john just smacked you, you excuse yourself, wrapping your blanket around your shoulders, and making your way to lee's house. you sit out on the steps, thinking about what you were doing. i'm not good for lee. staying would be a mistake, it would ruin what we have. then i'd be all alone again. you're not sure how long you'd been sat alone, staring off into the dark when you hear lee's boots crunching gravel.

"you okay?" you ask him, and his eyebrows pull together in confusion.

"i'm fine, are you, okay?"

you force yourself to nod, "of course,"

he reaches out for your hand, and you immediately give it to him, allowing him to guide you up into the house. you shed your uggs, blanket, jacket, sweatpants and sweater, when you enter his bedroom. you crawl into bed, pulling the blankets up and waiting for him to crawl in next to you. he does, turning the lights off, and shimmying close to you. you rest your head on his chest, and even after you hear his soft snoring, you can't fall alseep. you lay there, eyes closed trying to sleep, but then the first ray of light speaks into the room.

before you know it, it's six am, and lee's softly shifting you over so he can go shower. you stare up at the ceiling, unmoving. the room is still dark, and when he steps out of the bathroom, towel around his hips, and his hair dripping wet. you pretend to be sleeping when he leans over the bed to give your temple a quick kiss, before he heads down to the bunkhouse. you lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind racing. you met lee at a bar in town when you were eighteen, you'd been passing through, on your way to your next race, when he'd caught your eye.

you ended up spending the month curled up in his sheets, praying that it would never end. but like all good things in your life, it did. you'd had a blow out fight about something ridiculous, and after he fell asleep that night you left. you found yourself passing through the following summer, part of you praying you'd see him again. and you did. he sat perched on a bar stool, chatting with rip and two other hands from the ranch. rip saw you first, a knowing smile on his lips, then the other two—who you later came to know as colby and ryan—their conversation fizzled out quickly.

lee had stood, ready to leave for the night, but when he twisted around on that bar stool, he saw you standing there. a smile broke out on his face, and the next thing you knew, you were face down on his mattress, and all was forgotten. it was a cycle that repeated itself for years, this being your tenth summer returning to yellowstone. you couldn't help yourself, there was just something so magnetic about him. you couldn't stay away even if you tried. you show up, play house, counting down the days until a fight breaks out and then you disappear like leaves in the wind.

this time something was different though. everyone around you seemed to be trying to get you to stay. you'd had conversations with kayce, beth, tate, monica and even rip. that was the one you kept rolling over the most. you'd had a similar childhood as he did, but instead of you ending things, your father took your mother and two younger sister's lives then his own. you were seventeen. the only things you had left after that, was your horse, peaches, your truck and trailer. other than some clothes, that was all. you were a traveller, rarely staying in one spot long enough to form any meaningful connections.

lee and the dutton's were an anomaly to that. maybe that was why you always came back, but you couldn't be sure. rip had intercepted you just before supper one night, and despite never having had a much of a real conversation (besides small talk) in your ten years as acquaintances, you sat and listened to what he had to say. rip being a man of few words, had talked to–well more like at you–for twenty minutes. in that time, he'd managed to make you really wonder if running was the best option. you can only run for so long, eventually you'll be too old too, and then what? what would you have to show for it?

you phone goes off on the nightstand, and you sigh, forcing yourself to sit up. monica dutton long. you hit answer, and greet her.

"sorry, were you sleeping?"

"no, no, you're fine. what can i do for you?"

"tate was hoping you'd be up for a ride, i've packed a picnic, and kayce and lee said they'd meet us for lunch."

"sure, that sounds fun," you smile softly, your head screaming, see? you'd miss this if you left. you always do. "i'll get peaches ready, and meet you down at the barn,"

"awesome, tate's already excited. see you down there,"

you hang up, and slide out of bed. your feet hit the hard wood floor, and you go through your routine. you brush your teeth, put on a ballcap, and then throw on a t-shirt, jeans and your boots. you grab a bag of the cookies you bakes yesterday, and jump onto the four wheeler lee leaves for you so you can get around the far without using your truck. over the years, you've noticed that lee gets weird about your truck. it's probably because anytime you go near it, you're usually hauling ass out of yellowstone. you blink away the thought, and head down towards the barn.

lloyd is standing in the bunkhouse doorway when you park the four wheeler, "coffee?"

"oh, yes please." you nod, and he disappears inside returning moments later with a mug for you. "thanks, lloyd."

"you're welcome sweetheart," he smiles at you, and the pair of you stand in a comfortable silence, enjoying your coffee. "y'know, it's nice seeing you around here again,"

the guilt you've felt since you stepped into lee's house flairs back to life, and you nod, forcing a small smile. you go to walk towards the stall's, and he catches your elbow pulling you back.

"i know you've heard it a lot since you got back," he says, staring you down, "but everytime you leave; it's like lee loses part of him... you know that saying, "behind every good man, there's a great woman"? lee needs his great woman around. he needs you around,"

your eyes fill with tears, and you're sobbing before you have much of a chance to try and keep yourself together. lloyd's eyes go wide, and if you weren't losing your mind, you'd have laughed. he guides you into the bunkhouse, closing the door behind him. you plop down at the table, and try to calm yourself. lloyd stares at you, waiting patiently.

"i'm sorry," you mumble, using the shoulder of your shirt to wipe your eyes. "i don't know why that happened,"

"i didn't mean to push you," lloyd tells you, a look of guilt in his eyes.

"no, oh god no, please don't. this isn't your fault. i just..." you trail off looking at your feet. "can i vent for a minute?"

he nods, pulling out a chair and sitting beside you, "please,"

"i come from a pretty fucked up family," you start, lee doesn't even know about what happened to your family. you liked it that way, because every time you give someone an insight into your background, their perspective changed and they started treating you like glass. "i mean, who's isn't? mine... well, mine is a different kind of fucked up. my dad snapped one night, murdered my mom, two baby sisters, and then killed himself. no one's really sure why he did it; he was abusive as shit, sure, but that– that was a kind of rage he never displayed before. he didn't leave a note, he just did it, and then shot himself in the head. go figure the old bastard went the easy way,"

you sigh leaning forward resting your head in your hands, "i started running that night. i'd snuck out to see a boy, and came home to find them all dead. i just took off. had i not snuck out, i would be just like them. i don't have friends, i don't have any family, i've tried to keep to myself but when i met lee... my desire to be isolated changed. i just wanted to be with him. when i'm not here, all i can think about is whether he's safe or not. he's all i think about, but... my dad made it incredibly clear to me growing up that i was a burdern, unlovable, worthless, a waste of space... that kind of thing is difficult to just forget. he told me that everyday, for seventeen years. the scariest part of it all, is that i have my father's rage. i don't want to be like him, but i'm terrified that if i'm too close, i won't see it and it'll be too late."

you look up at lloyd, tears in your eyes, "he told me i wasn't worth loving, and i believe him. i hate leaving, i'm tired of it, but i'm terrified."

someone clears their throat from the doorway, the pair of you jumping at the noise. you turn your head, and see lee standing there, clutching the doorknob so tightly his fingers turn white. lloyd clears his throat, and stands, leaning down only to give your hand a light squeeze. lloyd leaves, and lee closes the door. it takes four long strides before lee is pulling you to your feet by your elbow, and crashing his lips to yours. you're surprised by the action, but melt into his touch. when the pair of you pull apart, breathing heavily, he rests his forehead against yours.

"i love you," he breaths, "you are worthy of love, you deserve happiness, and you are good."

your eyes water, again.

"how do you know i'm not a monster?" you whisper.

"because i know you. you bake cookies when you can't sleep, you pick up spiders and take them outside instead of killing them despite the fact that you're terrified of them, you close your eyes every time you see roadkill because it makes you sad that an animal died, you'd sooner adopt every animal than see them suffer, cute animals excite you, you're scared of thunder but always put on a brave face for tate because you don't want him to freak out, you hold doors open for everyone, and pay for peoples groceries or meal if they can't afford it. you are light, you are warmth, you are so damn good."

you bury your face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably as he holds you tightly. never in the ten years that lee has known you, has he ever seen your eyes water, let alone see you cry. someone knocks softly on the door, and then monica pokes her head in.

"oh, sorry– i was just going to ask if you guys were ready, but if now doesn't work–"

"no, now's good," you say, pulling your face away from his chest. "we were just–"

"she's staying," lee cuts you off, and she lets out an excited squeal.

"i have to tell kayce and tate!" she says, quickly disappearing.

you look up at him through red, swollen eyes, a teasing smile on your lips.

"i'm staying am i?" you ask wrapping your arms around his back. "'cause last i checked, you're the only one who hasn't asked me to stay."

"hasn't?" he echoes, an embarrassed look on his face as he looks down at you.

"oh yeah, your family was on me the minute i pulled in. you just happened to catch me in the aftermath of lloyd asking me."

"even rip?"

you nod, "especially rip. i think he had me convinced, but i wanted to hear it from you before i made my final decision."

he looks into your eyes, a serious look you've never seen before sliding over his features, "stay, please."

"okay," you whisper, not breaking eye contact, as his lips twitch up.

"marry me?" he says next, "please."

despite how badly he's caught you off guard, you find yourself immediately nodding, a wide smile crossing your face as he grabs you and spins you. you giggle, and he laughs, the pair of you hugging each other tightly.

"i love you," you tell him, "i love you so damn much, and i'm sorry for not you telling you sooner."

"it's ok, because we know now. that's good enough for me."

you nod, "me too."

[dreamtydraw]

Rewatching snow white ( the 1937 Disney movie ) with my little sister and I think it’s a great example on how people view feminity as weakness.

There is this image in media that snow white message is outdated because she gets saved by a prince and she’s naive but that so reductive of the whole movie and snow white as a character. Sure the social message of this almost 100 years old movie is vastly différent because of the war context and the goal intended for snow white as a character but aside of that ( because that important but too long to develop) even if you apply today modern standards, the film isn’t less feminist ?

Snow white is a polite pretty and kind woman. She takes care of the animals and in return they help her. She survive an assassination attempt and willingly choose to stay kind to other. When she chose to clean the house it’s because she thinks orphans lives here and she wants to help them. She’s a princess but used to be her step mother’s slave / servant ( in french she’s said to be a slave ) so that means before event of the movie she spent her time working. And about the prince she loves him, sure it’s very superficial but nevertheless she show mutliple time that she has interest in him through the movie ( two songs about it ) yet it’s only when he saves her that she end up with him, her goal is not to end up with him from the start, it’s after that she find safety that she wish for more like her love being reciprocated.

She rules the house, she pray for the well being of the dwarfs and dosen’t let negative comments going against her principles ( she force the dwarfs to clean themselves even if they insist to not do so and she still try to befriend grumpy politely when he say he dosen’t like her. )

And about the apple, she let the woman enter the house because she thinks the old woman is sick and need water, again showing signs of her good heart. The old woman tell her she’s gifting her an apple that grant wishes as a thank you for helping her, she dosen’t eat it because she’s dumb, she eats it because she thinks it’s a gift with good intentions for her good acts. + the old woman INSIST that she eats it.

She’s not dumb or incapable but a lot of people think she is for some reason and I’m pretty sure that reason is her femininity. Snow white is a symbol of feminity she’s humble, a good housewife a pretty girl and is in love. Sadly a lot of people think that the only way to be a strong female character is by being a bad bitch, in the eyes of a lot of people women can only be strong if they actively shout that they are by showing off or exercising roles previously offered by men.

Similar thing happened with the Mario movie where they toned down Peach hyper feminine character to make her more badass and people were like « oh finaly they gave her a character »

Hyper feminine characters aren’t less strong because of their hyperfeminity…..

Anyway that my little rambling and I take this occasion to remind people TO NOT watch the live action remake because of Gal Gadot’s presence importantly. Gal gadot is a proud zionist, idf soldier and was introduced in hollywood with intention of propaganda. + they used cgi instead of hiring real actors for the dwarfs and Disney suck ass. Watch Mirror mirror instead: