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g1rld1ary · 8 months ago

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you never disappointed me - part two

part one part two part three part four

➻ synopsis: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader ; percy and beckendorf's plan to set you up with luke is in motion, but you're extremely resistant to any advances (10 things I about you AU)

➻ word count: 3462

➻ warnings: swearing, ooc/kind of loser!luke, ooc silena, she/her pronouns used for reader, sexual innuendos

➻ thank u so much for all the love on part 1 I am such a happy gal!!!!! also, have my first day at uni tomorrow (so pls wish me luck) and sorry if updates slow down!

TAGLIST: @myxticmoon @wicca-void @leeknows-wife @thekittyxo-blog @number-onekidqueen @instabull

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It turned out that getting you to go out with Luke was harder than he’d originally anticipated. Eager for the whole ordeal to be over and for him to be 50 dollars richer, he’d hopped down from his spot on a fallen log and hurried to meet you by the volleyball courts when your match ended. You, unaware of Luke’s agenda, were fanning your face to combat some of the sweat that had accumulated, quickly tightening the messy ponytail you’d tied. Luke watched you in your own world, unbothered by anybody watching you, unlike the rest of your siblings. Sucking in a quick breath for confidence he approached you.

“Hey there, girly,” He smiled, “How’re you doing?” You looked up at him, inquisitive for a moment but ultimately unimpressed.

“Sweating like a pig actually, and yourself?” You were barely looking at him, skulling an impressive amount of your water bottle quickly. He stared at you, not expecting to be dismissed so easily. He recovered smoothly, not prepared to give up so soon.

“You really know how to get a guy’s attention, huh?”

“My mission in life,” You shot him a cloying smile, now giving him your full attention, unable to help being slightly interested by his boldness. “But obviously I’ve struck your fancy, so you see it worked. The world makes sense again.” You‘d figured out his motives now and had no interest, so began the walk back to your cabin. He followed, much to your dismay. Couldn’t men ever take the hint?

“So I’ll pick you up Friday then?”

“Oh right, Friday, uh huh.” You kept your eyes ahead, dodging a few younger kids as Luke trailed after you, annoyingly optimistic still.

“The night I take you places you’ve never been before,” He said, and you looked at him in disbelief. The ego on this kid!

“Right, like the makeout clearing in the forest? Do you even know my name, Castellan?” Luke could tell that you were mocking him, but he still had high hopes.

“I know a lot more than you think.” He smiled then, a lopsided thing that would have been somewhat charming if you’d actually bothered to look. Instead you were already walking away, calling out a “Doubtful. Very doubtful,” over your shoulder as you picked up into a run, presumably to go tell Clarisse about the bizarre experience you just had. Luke watched you go, dumbstruck in the middle of camp.

Percy and Beckendorf watched the exchange from the porch of the Hephaestus cabin, the latter putting his head in his hands dramatically.

“We’re screwed,” He groaned and Percy winced slightly.

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine, dude. Luke has faced a lot worse than a teenage girl.”

When you sat at dinner that night, desperately avoiding the eye contact Luke seemed desperate on initiating, you almost told Silena about your bizarre day. You’d opened your mouth to start the story when you realised that she’d only be encouraged by Luke’s antics, pressuring you into going out with him for her own benefit and quickly shut it. She’d noticed your odd behaviour and searched for meaning in your face. Panicking for something to replace the conversation, you zeroed in on the necklace sitting nicely on top of her camp one.

“Where’d you get the pearls?” You asked, already dreading the answer. Silena only confirmed your fears, claiming them as your grandmother’s with a coy smile.

“So what? You’ve just been hiding them the last three years?” You were always closest with your grandmother, and you were sure she wouldn’t leave her favourite pearls for Silena over you.

“Daddy found them in a drawer just before summer.” Silena shrugged as if you weren’t sitting across from her, cheeks a blotchy red in your upset. “Besides, they look good on me.” Your hands itched to hit her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, knowing exactly how much she was pissing you off.

“Trust me, they don’t,” You spat, quietly glad when Silena stalked off in a huff, amongst the first to leave the meal. You didn’t know how much longer you could argue with her before starting to cry, which you really didn’t want to do in front of the whole camp. You thought you were safe for the rest of the meal when Drew began speaking instead.

“You could try being nice sometimes, you know, people wouldn’t know what to think.” You rolled your eyes aggressively.

“You forget, I don’t care what people think,” You replied, taking in a spoonful of food.

“Yes you do. Everyone does. You know, with a new look you could have some serious potential.” You ignored her last statement.

“No, I don’t,” You emphasised, “You don’t always have to be who they want you to be.” You knew that wouldn’t impact Drew in the slightest, but you hoped it might resonate with some of your younger siblings — encourage them to nurture their internal beauty rather than accept the vain stereotype Aphrodite children were forced into. You pushed yourself out of the bench you were sitting on, needing a break from your insufferable siblings. As you dumped your dishes where they needed to be you saw Luke beginning to follow you and turned to make dead eye contact. Knowing you’d only scream at him (or worse) you gave him a dangerous look, accompanied with an almost imperceptible shake of your head. Not enough for anyone else to know you’d even acknowledged him, but enough to tell Luke to back off. He was smarter than you thought, as he held up his hands in a show of surrender, redirecting his action to innocently collect up his own dishes.

You may not have had any interest in knowing the boy, but you did appreciate that he knew when to back off. Or so you thought.

You were proven not-so-free from Luke Castellan the very next morning. It was the Aphrodite cabin’s day to check all the storerooms, and you’d volunteered to do the one which held all the weapons and armour near the sword fighting arena. You knew none of your siblings would come near if they could help it, mostly against weapons and the violence that surrounded the area, so you’d get a whole morning alone. It was peaceful attending to the chore, and you were allowed to use some of your Aphrodite eye for beauty. Of course, stacks of swords and assorted weapons could only be made so pretty, but you enjoyed organising them into neat rows, making it look as nice as possible — not that you would admit that to Silena or you’d be in her vanity chair receiving an unwelcome makeover in seconds.

You were just admiring your own sword, which you’d taken the time to polish while you were taking care of the others, when you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t react, assuming it was just some camper coming for a weapon, until he spoke.

“Nice sword, vintage hilt?” You tensed as Luke’s voice infiltrated your peace.

“Are you following me?” You disregarded his statement, an unimpressed frown present on your lips.

“I was training in the arena and needed to polish my sword. I saw you come in a while ago and not leave, I came to say hi,” He explained, and you raised an eyebrow. You weren’t friends, why would he come for a chat?

“Hi.” You promptly turned back to your task, shoving the cloth into the intricate designs of the hilt.

“Not a big talker, huh?” He persisted.

“Depends on the topic. My sword doesn’t exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy.” That wasn’t strictly true — the sword was a gift from your mother, with gold twisting around a blood red ruby in the centre of the hilt. After you’d made it clear that you weren’t going to just sit around during your time at camp she gifted you the sword, her way of saying that if you were going to fight, you should at least look good doing it. You’d had several conversations with Clarisse gushing over the intricacy of it, and profusely thanked Aphrodite for the gift in your offerings. You didn’t quite care to share this with Luke, being a relative stranger.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” He asked, and you were somewhat taken aback by the earnest tone of his voice.

“Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?” You couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that crept into your sentence.

“Most people are.” He gestured subtly towards his scar — gnarled and twisted against his otherwise tanned skin. You put a hand on your hip, resigned to conversation now.

“Well, I’m not.”

“Ok, maybe you’re not afraid of me, but I’m sure you’ve thought about me naked.” You were pretty sure Luke was going for smooth or charming, but you thought in this moment he was entirely lame. The wink didn’t help his case.

“Am I that transparent? I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.” You put on your best Drew impression, nasally and whiny, before handing him the cloth he needed to polish his own sword and turning to leave. There, quickly approaching the door, was Ethan. Seeing you he put on a disgusting smirk and blocked the doorway, effectively caging you into the storeroom.

“Gods, what is it, asshole day?” You asked, not caring that both boys could very clearly hear you. “Do you mind?” You gestured to his blocking the exit. He simply looked down at you, clearly doing his best to appear sexy (and failing miserably).

“Not at all.” His stupid smirk was going to kill you, and not in the good way. You scoffed, giving him a last chance to get the fuck out of your way. Then, sparing a fraction of a glance back to Luke pretending to mind his own business, you slammed the hilt of your sword into his foot, wishing it was the blade instead. You watched him crumble to the ground, holding his foot with both hands.

“You bitch!” He yelled, voice cracking pathetically in the middle. You forced your smile to stay contained.

“Oops,” You feigned innocence, one hands covering your mouth strategically. “You might need some ambrosia for that…” With that you side-stepped him, eager to leave the situation. If you’d have looked back, you would have seen the gleeful, disbelieving smile on Luke’s face, probably the biggest one he’d worn in a while. Although he didn’t get the date he’d entered for, he was beginning to think you were a little more interesting than you let on.

“Did you just cripple Ethan?” Silena shrieked as you entered your cabin to grab your things. “He’s a model, you can’t do that! Has it escaped your notice that you’re completely psychotic?” You pretended to think for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly.

“Guess your long walks on the beach are gonna have to wait,” You sighed dramatically, leaving Silena to wallow in her pity alone. It wasn’t like it was really your fault — if Ethan had learned how to respond to words or learn the meaning of ‘move’ he wouldn’t have gotten himself into that situation in the first place.

Meanwhile, Ethan and Luke were having a similarly emotional conversation after Luke had — very reluctantly — helped Ethan over to the infirmary to get his foot checked out.

“When I shell out fifty, I expect results.” Luke sighed, could this boy get any whinier?

“Yeah, I’m on it,” He said through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to hurt him.

“Watching that bitch obliterate my foot doesn’t count as a date. If you don’t get any, I don’t get any, so let’s get some,” Ethan said, running a hand through his ridiculously styled hair. Luke couldn’t believe his nerve. First of all, obliterated? He would be left with a bruise for a few days, if anything. Secondly, this whole things was Ethan’s idea, Luke had never given any indication wanting to ‘get some’, especially not with someone so clearly resisting his advances. Just as Ethan left, giving the Apollo girl treating him a douchebag smile, Luke hardened his resolve.

“I just upped my price,” He said, loving the way Ethan’s eyes widened like a cartoon character. “A hundred bucks a date, in advance.”

“Forget it,” Ethan grumbled, moving to leave again.

“Forget her sister then.” The two boys stared at each other, one significantly more amused than the other. Luke knew he had the upper hand in the dynamic, something he revelled in. Then, after the intimidation tactic clearly wasn’t having any effect, Ethan reached for his wallet, Luke admiring the crisp fifty he was handed.

“You better hope you’re as smooth as you think you are, Castellan.” Luke just watched him go, confident tilt of his head conveying his outlook on the situation.

Luke had taken his usual spot overseeing combat training, but his usual thoughts were long gone. Instead, he was entirely preoccupied with you. He didn’t know how to get you to go out with him when you could barely entertain a conversation, and he twirled his cigarette between his fingers as he pondered.

Percy and Beckendorf saw his internal conflicts, slowly moving closer to him under the guise of a very chaotic fight between the two. Finally Luke gave them attention, knowing Percy’s skills would never have him running all over the place like that. He raised an eyebrow, a sign for them to get on with whatever they were angling at.

“We know what you’re trying to do, for Beauregard,” Percy said, and Luke appeared almost startled.

“And we want to help,” Added Beckendorf helpfully, shying away when Luke’s eyes bore into his.

“And why would you do that?”

“Beckendorf here has a major crush on Silena—”

“Gods, what is it with this girl? Does she sweat nectar?” Beckendorf opened his mouth to protest when Percy spoke over him, knowing it would be more beneficial to let Luke lead.

“Look, I think we can both tell that Charlie’s love is pure, well-intentioned, better than, say, Ethan White?” Luke sighed, catching on.

“I’m in this for the cash, that’s it. Who Ethan wants to bang is of no interest to me.”

“There will be no banging!” Beckendorf cried as Percy pushed him behind. He was no use in a delicate situation like this.

“Ok, Luke, it’s just that we’re the masterminds behind this whole thing. We set it up so Beckendorf can get the girl — Ethan’s just a pawn.” Luke paid closer attention suddenly, intrigued by the chess match he’d been pulled into.

“So you two are gonna help me win her over?”

“We’ll do research, find out what she likes. We can be your guys on the inside.”

“In a strictly non-mission type of way,” Beckendorf added helpfully, nervous of the legends he’d heard about Luke’s failed quest. Luke chose to simply ignore that comment, and Percy filled the silence before he could get angry about it.

“Let’s just start here: the Apollo cabin is throwing a party on Friday night, it’s the perfect opportunity.”

“I’ll think about it,” Was all Luke said, a clear signal the conversation was over. Percy and Beckendorf returned to fighting, slightly more regulated now they had gotten what they’d wanted, and Luke brought the cigarette back up to his lips, new thoughts clouding his mind.

Meanwhile, Ethan had found Silena where she was known to hang out by the rocks near the lake. He was hovering next to her, providing snatches of shade as he performed pose after pose, claiming he had a modelling job lined up when he left for the year.

“So which do you like better?” He asked, moving his hands fractionally to the left of his chin.

“The second,” Silena giggled, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. “It’s more… pensive.”

“Damn,” Ethan kicked the sand softly. “I was going for thoughtful. So, you going to the Apollo party on Friday?”

“Maybe.” She produced her best coy smile, looking up at him from behind her lashes.

“Good, ‘cause you know I’ll only bother if you’re there.” Silena smiled, getting up from her spot on the rock.

“Bye.” Her voice was airy in the way she knew drove boys mad. She walked away leaving Ethan wanting more, her specialty. You scoffed, catching the end of the exchange. You and Silena made momentary eye contact, tension thick between the two of you.

As Beckendorf approached Silena, fishing for more information about you, Ethan had caught you in his sights and wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

“You sister is so cute,” His voice infiltrated your bubble in a way that made you want to hit him so desperately. “Doesn’t have your bite though, a feisty woman is so sexy.” You knew he was just trying to get a rise out of you, but it was so close to working.

“Come any closer and I’ll show you just how feisty I can get,” You snapped, braid almost whacking him in the face as you turned to face him. You could have sworn Ethan looked afraid for a second before he covered it with bravado.

“One day you’re gonna realise that all of this hostility is just your sexual repression. Don’t worry, babe, I’ll be waiting with open arms… And legs.” You almost threw up.

“Gods, can’t you just leave me alone, asshole?” You yelled, trying to push past him to get anywhere else.

“C’mon, don’t be a prude,” He whined, and you were really close to taking him to the ground — not in the way he wanted.

“You heard the girl,” A voice called from behind you, and instantly Ethan took a step back. “She wants you to leave her alone.” Luke appeared behind you, a respectful distance away whilst still making his intentions clear. Ethan shrunk back into himself, making a lame excuse as to why he had to leave, hurriedly fleeing the beach. Reluctantly, you turned to face Luke.

“I’m not going out with you just for that,” You said plainly, daring him to try again.

“You think that low of me?” He laughed, dark eyes sparkling with mirth. You forced yourself not to notice. “I don’t have to want something from you to know that Ethan White isn’t worth your time.” It was your turn to be embarrassed at that, feeling slightly narcissistic for assuming that was the purpose of the conversation (it was, but Luke sure as hell wasn’t going to ruin his chances because you were in a mood, justified or otherwise).

“Oh.” You stared at his shoes. “Well, thanks, I guess.” You moved to leave but Luke stopped you, hand not quite touching your arm, unwilling to have it bitten off.

“So you do have a heart!” He joked, signature grin on his face. You wondered why you were seeing so much of it lately when he’d been so dour since his quest.

“Ha! You wish.”

“Don’t try to hide it, Beauregard, you’re warming up to me.”

“I’d sooner fuck Mister D,” You replied, actually taking your leave.

Luke watched you go, chewing his lip between his teeth. There was more to you than you let on, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t say it was any fondness, but he was starting to have a curiosity attaching itself to this scheme, and he knew that going out with you would satisfy it. He should have known having any personal stakes involved — sentimental or otherwise — would get dangerous.

Your own thoughts had barely budged on Luke. He was still a pain in your side and you figured you knew what kind of guy he was — not the type you had any interest in. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were appreciative he’d saved you from Ethan (and the inevitable washing up duty you’d be punished with when you beat him up), so maybe he wasn’t quite as despicable as you’d initially judged him to be. Close, though.

part three

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀#love #luke castellan #pjo series #pjo #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson show #percy jackson #percy series #percy pjo #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #percy jackson tv show

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catboybiologist · 1 year ago

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Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.

Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!

As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!

Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.

Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!

Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:

If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!

And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):

If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!

Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:

I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.

I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:

Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:

This includes the way I came out on tumblr:

And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:

Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:

Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL

As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.

I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.

So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee

#196 #r196 #r/196 #rule #/r/196 #trans #transitioning #trans woman #trans femme #tortoise #tort #russian tortoise #trans tutorial #trans tummy tuesday #transgender #trans tumblr #trans selfie #trans journal

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asumofwords · 1 year ago

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The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Hello angels! Sorry for the late update for this one, got lost in the sauce of writing the Til Death Do Us Part oneshot. Haha anyway, here is the new chapter, I hope you enjoy! <3

Chapter 7: Hard truths

It was the tension that was the most unbearable part of it all. The feeling of words that had been left unspoken, apologies not voiced aloud, grievances that were left to fester in the quiet of the apartment after that fateful night.

When you went to work the next day, your eyes had been puffy from crying, and Jasper had asked you on multiple occasions what was wrong. You had told him it was your allergies, dust in the office irritating your eyes, but you could tell by just the way he had looked at you that he didn’t believe you.

You felt entirely defeated by it all.

Exhausted by it.

Tiptoeing in your own home, walking on eggshells, hiding in your room, not making a peep to avoid the cold glares of Aemond. And he had done much the same, staying out late, or going straight to his room when he got home.

And by the time the time the weekend had rolled in, you had had enough of sulking and decided to reply to Cregan’s invitation with a very enthusiastic yes.

Cregan told you that the boys would all be there, even Jacaerys and Lucerys, who were yet to head to the Keep to be with their family, the weekend being a final hurrah before the storm that waited for them back in their old home.

When you woke that morning, excited that the weekend was finally here and that you had something to look forward to in the evening, you decided you were going to do a quick clean of the apartment, chucking on some noise cancelling headphones and making your way to the kitchen.

You made swift work of it, and before long, you were washing your hair and getting ready for the night. Cregan had texted you excitedly saying the boys were keen to see you, and had asked if you wanted to go to his first.

You threw on an outfit that was short and sleek, hugging your curves perfectly and revealing ample cleavage. Paired with a bit of a smokey eye and your hair in a style you favoured, you looked at yourself in the mirror and smirked.

You looked hot.

Really hot.

When you came out of your room, Aemond was on the couch, watching as you ordered your Uber to take you straight to Cregan’s. You didn’t spare him a single glance, but you knew he was looking at you. You could feel the heat of his gaze roaming over your body.

Leaving without a goodbye, you hopped straight into your Uber and headed to Cregan’s, greeted by the hulking figure at the door, with loud chattering behind him and music playing.

“Look at you.” Cregan smirked as you gave him a little spin.

“Look at me.” You winked, jumping into his arms for a massive hug, the large man picking you off the ground with a shift of his back as you squealed, before placing you back down.

“The boys are keen to see you.”

You smiled, following him down the hall to the lounge room where Cregan’s friends all sat on various couches and chairs.

Two familiar faces came into view, Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon.

Both brown haired boys gazes fell on you, wide smiles spreading on their cheeks. Jacaerys jumped up with a cry of your name before rushing towards you, pulling you into a soft hug, followed by his younger brother Lucerys, who had grown a foot since the last time you saw him. Lost were his cherubic cheeks, and in their place, cheekbones that sat high on his face like his mother.

“It's been so long!” You whined, looking at Luc who now stood taller than you, “Fuck you’ve grown. What are they feeding you on Dragonstone?”

Lucerys blushed, looking away before a smirk pulled at his lips, “Not enough. You haven’t grown a bit.”

“I stopped growing a long time ago, you ass.” You chuckled.

You didn’t get to see Jacaerys and Lucerys often, having met them a few times through Cregan, and the others through Helaena. At one point you had classes with the older brother, and he had always been nothing but kind and respectful towards you.

Despite not seeing them as often as you wished, you still considered them good friends.

Scanning the rest of the room, you spotted the one and only Kermit Tully, seated beside his brother Elmo Tully. After Daeron's confession to you on the phone the other day, you couldn’t even look at Kermit without having burning questions. You put them in the back of your mind to ask later.

Cerwyn, Cregan’s best friend who was as large and as broad as Stark was, stood by the window smoking a joint, giving you a small wave and a smile from across the room.

“Where are we going first?” You asked, being handed your favourite drink from Cregan as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“We should go to the Red Kraken.” Jace suggested, sitting back down in his seat to sip on his beer.

Cerwyn chuckled, “You keen to see Dalton again?” He asked you, eyebrow raised.

Dalton Greyjoy, owner of the Red Kraken, was a man a few years older than Cregan. The last time you had went to his venue with the Stark, he had suggested the three of you go back to his when he clocked off. It was brazen and daring, but you couldn’t deny the man was attractive. He had dark hair and dark brown eyes that were almost black.

Dalton stood taller than Cregan, if you could believe it, and was often found at one of the local boxing rings for fun.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say I didn’t want to see him again.” You cheeked, Jacaerys chuckling on the couch as he explained the situation to a very confused Luc, the younger boys cheeks going a bright red.

“Hey!” Cregan chastised you, pinching your side.

“What? He’s handsome and ruggish. A bit more dark and mysterious than you are.”

“No mystery with that one.” Kermit piped up from his seat, taking a cheeky sip of his drink, eyes watching you over the rim of the can, “If you want to see his cock, just ask.”

“Kermy!”

“What?”

Cregan burst into laughter beside you and all followed.

You all finished your drinks and found your way into the city, heading straight for the Red Kraken.

It was a dingy bar, more male populated than not, but it had a fun feel to it.

Grungy and dirty, it had mismatching couches and tables, and a great smoking area out the back. On Fridays they had sport trivia nights which Cregan had once taken you to.

You lost.

You all sat down and drank and laughed, and you felt the tension from the week slough off your back like snow in spring.

It was good to be with friends like them, and you had only wished that the girls were there to join you all.

The night flew by, and your sides were in stitches from laughing so much. Dalton had come over to speak to you all at one point whilst the bar was slow, and you had felt his gaze lower to your breasts on more than one occasion. When he left, you had whispered into Cregan's ear about taking him up on his offer, which had earnt you a scandalised look.

It wasn't a no though.

“If you don’t want Dalton, I’d be happy to replace him.” Cerwyn smirked.

Cregan declared that he owed the entire table a round for that comment, and Cerwyn had done as ordered without apology or regret, a teasing 'anything for you, love' flowing from his lips.

As the night moved on, you all decided to move to the next venue, and it was your good idea to take them all to the bar that Sara had taken you to. All were in favour, and so you made your way down to the silk lanes, Lucerys’ bright brown eyes eyeing the doors of the strip clubs excitedly.

“Is that it?” Elmo sighed, looking at the busted wall and green door entrance.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

Jacaerys stepped into the venue immediately, security guard nodding at him as he entered, not bothering to check his ID. Your brows furrowed as you looked up at Cregan, who just shrugged down at you.

As you walked down the stairs to enter the bar you caught up to Jace, who looked like he was at home.

“Have you been here before?” You asked, walking inside, seeing the bar staff nod at him, big grins on their cheeks.

“Daemon owns the joint with my mum.” Jacaerys told you, and you stilled.

This was Daemon and Rhaenyra’s bar.

“What? I didn’t even know that.” You whispered in a hushed tone, still loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Pretty low key, just another investment. They said they’ll hand it over to me eventually.”

“What the fuck?! Jace, that’s amazing!” You grinned, hugging him aggressively around his neck as you stood at the bar, waiting to be served.

Cregan moved behind you, hand winding around your waist as he whispered into your ear.

“Don’t freak out.”

You let go of Jace and turned to look back at him, “What? Wh-“

There, at the end of the bar, sat a familiar head of silver hair.

And his eye was on you.

You snapped your head away, uttering a quick ‘fuck’ beneath your breath.

Lucerys, following your eye line shifted uncomfortably, “Jace, Aemond’s here.” He whispered to his older brother, who turned to face his uncle, giving him a curt smile and nod before looking back to staff in front of him.

“He’s fine. Leave him be.”

It was awkward.

This was supposed to be your new place to get away from him, and now Aemond was here? And what was worse, you were here with people you knew he didn’t get along with. And the glare he directed towards you was apparent.

Cregan led you to go sit down at a booth at the encouragement of Jace who said the drinks were on him for the rest for the night, though in reality you knew it was more like on his parents, but you didn’t argue. Free drinks are free drinks, and you needed one now more than ever.

“Are you okay?” Cregan spoke lowly, hand holding yours on the table.

You swallowed, “I’m okay. It's just awkward.”

“He still giving you shit?”

“It's a long story, and one I’ll tell you later.”

Cregan pressed a kiss to the side of your head, your eyes immediately lifting to see Aemond watching you. The other boys came to join you at the booth, Cerwyn sliding in next to you, with Luc and the Tully brothers opposite. Jacaerys made his way over to his uncle, polite smile on his lips.

You watched as Jace and Aemond shared what looked to be a somewhat tense and awkward conversation, though completely civil. Aemond seemed to tolerate his nephew barely just, and Jacaerys had slapped a friendly hand on his uncles shoulder as he made his way back to you, earning the brown haired man a frown from a head of silver.

“I think we should leave.” Luc whispered, shoulders hunched as he curled in on himself.

Jace slid in next to him, “Don’t let him intimidate you.” He put a gentle hand on Luc’s shoulder, similar to how he had with Aemond, and you got the impression that Jacaerys being the eldest, was used to being the mediator, “Let's have a drink, enjoy each others company and have a good night.”

The staff brought over your drinks, sitting them in front of you, and you clinked all your glasses together messily in a toast, feeling Cregan whisper into your ear as you took a sip.

“Relax your shoulders." You did as you were told, not having realised how tense you were, "Don’t let him ruin your night. I’m here, the boys are here, and if at any point you want to leave, we will leave. Okay?”

You nodded.

No way in Hell were you letting him sour your mood again.

You all stayed at the bar, round after round of drinks being dumped on your table without any of you having to get up or order. You were messy and loud, but above all, happy.

You felt Aemond’s gaze on you for almost the entirety of the night, and caught his eye on multiple occasions, tension crackling in the air between you. But after your third cocktail, the heat of the drinks overpowered the heat of his gaze.

Eventually, Aemond stood from where he sat at the bar, your eyes immediately finding him and watching as he left, walking past your booth as he let his eye stray on Cregan’s hand that was wrapped over your shoulder. He continued on his path, nose held high as he disappeared up the steps.

Lucerys sighed, obviously having felt some sort of tension the entire time, “What the fuck was that?”

You groaned, burying your face into your hands.

“Aren’t you living with him?” Kermit asked, and all eyes immediately landed on you.

“What?” Jacaerys’ eyes went wide, “Since when do you live with my uncle? What happened to Helaena?”

“Hel is at the Keep, and Aemond needed a place to stay, so he’s in her room.”

“Gods help you.” Elmo falsely prayed, lifting his drink up in a mock toast.

Cerwyn and Cregan shared a look over the top of your head, and then with Jacaerys, sharing some sort of unspoken conversation. The only people confused at the table, were you, Luc and the Tully brothers.

“What?”

Cregan shrugged.

You felt that there was something unsaid, but you opted to leave it, sparking up a conversation with Kermit, asking pointedly about his love life, but not mentioning Daeron. The red headed man narrowed his eyes at you, wide smile pulling on his lips, before he started to go into great detail about someone he had fucked recently, with a full and lengthy description of their cock.

The two of you the only people at the table knowing who it was.

The night continued for a while, but you couldn’t help but feel the lingering guilt and upset that Aemond had triggered inside of you. Cregan, sensing the shift in your mood, decided to call it a night, and offered to take you home.

You said farewell to all the boys, and made them swear to do this more often, giving Lucerys a particularly tight hug, feeling the tension in the youngest boys shoulders.

When you and Cregan got back to the apartment, the lights were off, and the flat was bathed in darkness. You stumbled into the apartment giggling, shushing the tall man behind you who clunked loudly on the floor with each step.

“Shhh!” You hushed him, laughter bubbling up your throat.

“Come on, bunny.” Cregan laughed quietly, steering you straight to the kitchen, filling up a glass of water for you to drink.

You scrunched your nose at him, knowing you were drunk, but not wanting to sober up yet.

“Drink it all, Y/n. You need to sober up.”

“You need t-to sober up.” You quipped back, jumping up on the cabinets, your shoes hitting the doors loudly by accident.

“Shhh!” You hushed your own feet, grabbing the water and drinking it slowly, keeping your eyes on Cregan the entire time, who watched you in entertained exacerbation.

You placed the empty glass of water beside you, which Cregan filled to the top again.

“Cregaaan.” You purred, the Northerner lifting a brow at you, “Can you roll me a cigarette, please.” You pouted at him, trying to give him your best doe eyes.

Cregan shook his head, grabbing your small handbag to pull out your cigarettes, rolling you one neatly as he moved to open the window. You shimmied closer to the ledge, putting the cigarette to your lips as you lit it.

Blowing a ring of smoke out the window, you offered Cregan a drag, who took the smoke from your hands delicately.

“I can't believe Cerwyn offered to join us.” You guffawed, cheeks heating in both embarrassment and excitement.

Cregan blew the smoke out the window, handing the cigarette back to you, “I can. Cerwyn thinks you’re cute. Plus he knows all about our little agreement.” You giggled loudly, inhaling the sharp smoke into your lungs, “Why? Are you thinking about saying yes?”

You blushed, crossing your legs tightly, heat settling in your core, “I dunno. Cerwyn is cute.”

“He is.”

Your mouth dropped open, “Cregan Stark. Tell me more right now.”

Cregan took the smoke from your fingers bringing it to his lips as he smirked down at you, “I mean, I haven’t not thought about it. He's my best mate and I live with him. I've heard what goes on behind his closed doors. Besides, you beneath both of us, begging, sq-“

“Can you two be fucking quiet?”

Both of your heads snapped to a disgruntled Aemond Targaryen, who stood in the lounge room, hands by his sides in fists. He was in those grey sweatpants again, hanging low on his hips with no shirt on, hair on his head tangled and messed.

“I’m s-“ You began.

“-It’s three in the fucking morning. Have some respect.”

You stiffened, feeling anger begin to bloom in your chest, you opened your mouth to argue, to snap back at him, but Cregan stepped in front of you, blocking you from the other mans view.

“No problem, man. We'll be quieter.” Cregan’s voice was deep, stern, clipped, and left no room for argument. Though it was polite, it was rough, like the cold in the North, biting and sharp. A true Northerner through and through.

Cregan was silently hitting back without even doing it.

Aemond’s lips pursed into a hard line, turning on his heel to stomp back to his room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Cregan spun around to look at you, eyebrows lifted as he whistled lowly, pulling the smoke up to his lips to take a long drag.

“What the fuck?” You hissed quietly, “What is his problem?”

Cregan sighed, “It is 3am, bunny. I’m sure he just wants to sleep. It would have been a weird night for him.”

You frowned, annoyed that Cregan was acting so cool about Aemond’s outburst, “Why aren’t you angry?” You snatched the smoke from him, taking a final drag before you put it out on the brickwork outside.

"I'm not not angry."

You huffed in annoyance.

Cregan stepped forward, unhooking your legs to stand between them as his large hands skated up the outside of your thighs. He bent his head to look at you, your eyes refusing to meet his.

“Y/n." Cregan coaxed you softly.

You slowly turned your head to look at him, staring into his icy grey eyes.

“Do you like him?”

“What? No!” Immediately feeling defensive.

Cregan hushed you, shaking his head kindly, “It’s okay if you do. You’re not in trouble.”

You blanched, not sure of how to speak, words getting caught in the back of your throat.

Cregan stroked your cheek softly, soft smile on his lips, “Hey, this is casual, remember? Regardless of if we fuck or not, you’re still my friend, and I care about you and want you to be happy.”

Your heart pulled painfully, lips dropping down into a frown.

Cregan’s chest rumbled with a quiet laugh, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re so sweet, Creg. What the fuck.”

Both hands rubbed warmly up and down your thighs in comfort, “You’re fluffing me up now.”

You shook your head, “I don’t understand. Why don’t I like you instead?”

Cregan gave you a sad smile and kissed the tip of your nose, “I used to ask myself the same question. But now I see it. We just don’t gel like that." He shrugged, and your chest pulled, "And honestly? I'm glad, because at the end of the day, no matter what happens between us, I know I'll still be able to call you mine in some way or another. Whether that be as my friend or my lover.”

You felt tears begin to build in your eyes, the betrayal of the prickling in the corners, causing your stomach turn, “I don’t get it. Why do I feel this way? He’s been nothing but horrible to me.”

“You’ve fucked him haven’t you?”

“No.” You said quietly.

His eyes roamed your face, knowing you far too well, “You've done something else.” Cregan guessed, watching the way your face fell further.

His back suddenly straightened, “Did he hurt you?”

“No! No, Gods no. Nothing like that.”

The Stark relaxed slightly, but you could still tell he was on guard.

“Does Helaena know?”

You looked away, fingers pulling at the threads of material on your thigh, “No. I’m scared. She’s my best friend, Cregan, and I feel like I’ve totally broken her trust and gone behind her back. She has so much going on right now, I just don’t know how I’m even supposed to broach that conversation. Like what do I do? ‘Hey Hel, your brother ate my pussy like a starved man and then immediately treated me like shit after.’”

“What did he do?”

You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter. He’s been nothing but a dick to me. It's not going to happen again.” You looked down into your lap, wringing your hands together as the feeling of being used washed over you again.

“If I know you, and I think I do, I can tell that it will happen again just by looking at you both.”

You scoffed, looking up at him in irritation.

“No, listen. There's clearly something going on between you two. Anyone with two eyes could see that. Maybe that's why he's not.”

“There's nothing-“

“-Cerwyn picked up on it immediately. Even Jace could see it.”

Oh.

Cregan's thumbs smoothed the skin of your thighs, the warmth of his body soaking into yours, “So what happened? Start from the beginning.”

And so you did, you started from the beginning, telling Cregan about the day he moved in, to your first kiss in the kitchen, all the way to the other night and how he had left you and was horrible right after a scene.

You watched as Cregan’s brows had become drawn at certain points in justifiable anger, the man always having been very protective over you, and at other times he gave you a scathing look, telling you that you had gone too far as well.

“So yeah, we haven’t spoken since, and I don’t think I want to. I just can’t see how he can be so cold to me when I've been nothing but kind to him.”

Cregan leant against the window, rolling the both of you another cigarette, trapping the smoke in his lips as he bent down to take off your shoes off as you began to swing your legs in agitation.

“He's a douchebag for sure," Cregan agreed, standing to his full height again, "And I really don’t see what you see in him.”

“See?? I think it's all hormonal or something. I don’t know. Ugh. But when he is nice, he is so lovely. And when he smiles it's this-”

You stopped yourself.

Oh gods.

You were deeper than you thought.

Why did you have a crush on this man???

Cregan smirked at you and you swatted him roughly, taking the smoke from between his lips to light it, taking a long and hard drag, feeling the smoke swirl down your throat thickly.

“I don’t know much about the man,” Cregan began, “But from what Jace and Luc have told me, I know he’s been through a lot. He didn’t get an easy run as a kid-“

“-It's not an excuse to be a dick.”

“-No its not an excuse, but it is an explanation. I know his dad wasn’t really there, and his mum was real tough on him. It didn’t help that everyone sided with Luc after the accident.“

“The accident? What do you mean?”

Cregan took a steady breath, taking the cigarette from you to take a sharp inhale, speaking as he exhaled, “Luc took his eye.”

“What?!” Your heart fell.

Cregan held up his hands, “No, not like that. It was an accident. Lucerys has never forgiven himself for it, hangs over the poor kids head like a storm. Aemond was ten, and Luc would have only been like five or six? They were both kids, and they were play fighting with wooden swords, some knights and dragon game they used to all play, but Lucerys had swung too high and too fast for Aemond to block it.”

Your stomach turned, and a chill ran through you, “Oh my gods.”

Cregan looked down sadly, shifting on his feet, “Yeah, its rough. Fucking horrible what happened, and then Alicent wanted to sue Lucerys for grievous bodily harm.”

“What the fuck? But he was just a kid? They were both kids! It was an accident!”

“I know right? Alicent started a fight right in front of Aemond at the hospital with Rhaenyra, got physical, everyone started screaming at each other when they all should have been comforting the poor kid who lost his damn eye. The family has been a mess ever since.”

It all made sense now.

The tension.

The disdain.

The law firm.

All of it.

Cregan handed you the smoke and also held the second glass of water to you, waiting for you to drink half of it, “I’m not telling you this to excuse his behaviour or make you pity him. I'm just trying to give you some perspective as to why he is the way he is. He’s had it rough, and from the sound of it, he doesn’t know how to open up or feel safe. The people that were supposed to protect him failed him, and I think that it really did change the way he is.”

You felt guilt.

Guilt for not knowing. Guilt for now knowing. Guilt for not being more understanding. But at the same time, you were not really at fault.

How were you to know?

“Fuck. I feel terrible.” You sighed.

“Don’t be. He was an ass to you. No excuses there.”

“I guess. I did rub his ex in his face.”

Cregan sucked in a hiss, “Poor form.”

You buried your face in your hands, “I know. But he just left me, straight after giving me one of the best orgasms of my life. It was horrible, Creg.”

“Best orgasm?” Cregan joked, and you sighed.

“Shut up. It was horrible. I've never felt so used before. It reminded me so much of Jason, I think it really triggered me. I cried myself to sleep after.”

Cregan stepped back between your legs, pulling you into a tight bear hug, in away that he always did, tucking your head beneath his chin and cradling you to his chest. You instantly felt safe, reassured, and loved.

And it was always how you felt around him.

“You’ll get through this, bunn.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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roseghoul26 · 5 months ago

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Chapter 11: On Begged And Borrowed Time

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: sorry this took so long! Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz @hqxee @salientseraph Chapter List

Failed Robbery in Saint Denis: 2 Dead, 1 Arrested, 6 Missing

You’d lost track of how many times you’d reread the article, the newspaper creased where your hands gripped it. You already knew what the article stated, yet you reread it at every free moment.

The Van Der Linde’s bank robbery had gone wrong. Terribly wrong. Pinkertons had been quick to arrive on the scene, resulting in a shootout that killed two members of the gang, as well as arresting John.

There was a pang in your chest when you saw the sketch of Hosea provided. You hadn’t been close with him, not like Arthur was, but you respected him deeply and were quite thankful for him. To see him listed as nothing more than a failed bank robber and lowlife was disheartening; you knew better.

There was another man pictured alongside Hosea, someone you didn’t recognize. You had been shocked when you first saw him, as he looked barely old enough to be an adult, let alone a part of the gang. Leonard “Lenny” Summers, his name read, and you took a mental note to ask Arthur about him later.

A deep sadness washed over you when you thought of Arthur. Unimaginable relief had flooded you when you hadn’t seen his picture in the newspaper article, meaning he was one of the six on the run. You just hoped that wherever he was, he was alright.

Glancing at the date at the top of the newspaper, you sighed deeply. It had been printed three weeks ago. Three weeks since you last saw Arthur, and possibly for the last time.

You quickly shook that thought from your mind. You refused to even entertain the idea that Arthur might’ve died. Until you saw his body, you didn’t let yourself think that he was anything other than alive. Worse for wear, but alive.

“You reading that damn newspaper again?” Hans’ voice startled you, and you dropped the paper like it burned you. He stood in the doorway of your bedroom, arms crossed over his chest, staring disapprovingly at the newspaper that had fallen back onto the nightstand.

Hans’ demeanor had turned sour over the past three weeks. He was more irritable, a constant scowl on his face, barking at you instead of speaking evenly. You figured it was the stress of his moonshine operation falling apart, and from nearly entrusting his operation’s security into the hands of the failed robbers of Saint Denis.

“Sorry, it’s just…” you sighed. “It’s just so shocking. They seemed so nice!”

“That’s what they want you to think. Can’t fault you for falling right into their trap.”

You’re the one who fell into their trap, you fool. You nearly rolled your eyes, but you forced them to remain still. “It makes me wonder how many liars I’ve trusted.” Like you.

Hans remained silent for a moment, the furrow in his brow deepening, making it almost look like he was glaring at you. “A thought that has passed my mind as well,” he finally said, sounding more like a threat than anything. He didn’t get to see your bewildered expression, though, because he disappeared from the doorway.

His words unsettled you deeply, anxiety brewing in your mind. Did he know? Was he suspicious? Or was he just speaking in an angry tone, with no idea what you were up to?

Grabbing the newspaper, you decided to hide it from your sight, realizing it was doing you more harm than good. Out of the clear of your husband, you grabbed the lockbox, and it took quite a bit of forcing to fit both newspapers in there. Next time Hans left, you’d have to clip out the important parts and discard the rest.

Your mother’s letter appeared as you were messing with the papers, a mixed sense of dread and happiness washing over you. You hadn’t told Hans about your letter. You couldn’t. You weren’t supposed to have reached out to your family, and a part of you dreaded that your mother was coming over because then you’d have to explain yourself to him.

You had no idea when she was coming over, but you knew it had to be sometime soon. Ever since that letter arrived, you’d been expecting her arrival daily, just adding to the stress you were feeling because of Arthur. To say the last few weeks had been difficult would be an understatement, but you pushed through.

Tucking the box away, you headed downstairs, the bedroom causing too many emotions for you to handle right now. You didn’t have to knock to know that Hans was in his office, the door locked shut when you passed.

Sitting on the couch, you picked up the embroidery you were working on, a hobby you’d taken up over the past two weeks to try and distract yourself, Hans permitting, of course. It barely worked, operating as more of a means to pass the time than anything.

Your thoughts were always occupied with Arthur, your stomach constantly in knots. You hadn’t had much of an appetite, and it was starting to wear you down, the bags under your eyes prominent.

It had been a startling discovery, seeing yourself in the mirror after these weeks. You looked how you did when you met Arthur, the sparkle of joy in your eyes that he brought vanishing. Your cheeks were gaunt, and you just looked exhausted.

A light knock at the door startled you, nearly stabbing yourself with your needle. You waited for Hans to emerge from his office; maybe he was expecting someone today.

But when a minute passed and he didn’t emerge, your heart hammered in your chest. Another light knock made you move, setting your embroidery on the couch. Shakily, you made your way to the front door, and you took a deep breath before opening it.

On the other side stood your mother, looking a few years older, yet still the same woman all the same. People always joked when you were a child that you were just a younger version of your mother, but as your eyes fell on her, you realized how right they had been.

A warm smile appeared on her face when she saw you, a smile that had brought you so much comfort. Even now, you feel like all the weight on your shoulders has been lifted. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to move, emotions rendering your legs useless, staring at your mother like you’d just seen a ghost.

It was when she said your name softly that the spell you were under finally broke. A sob tore from your throat, and she had barely opened her arms before you were crashing into her, your own arms clinging to her. Right now, you weren’t Mrs. Kerrigan. You were just someone who needed the comfort of their mother.

Immediately her hands were soothing you, one running through your hair, the other rubbing circles into your back. Your tears were staining her dress, but neither of you cared. For the first time in weeks, you finally let go of all the emotions that had bottled up inside of you, stress and sadness and grief pouring out, unable to hide them any longer.

You’re not sure how long she held you for, letting you cry on her shoulder. You’re sure your commotion caught the attention of Hans, but that was an afterthought. Eventually, your sobs receded, and you pulled away, your eyes puffy and cheeks red.

Tears of her own flowed down her face, and you felt her gently wipe your cheeks. “My beautiful daughter…” she murmured, and your bottom lip trembled. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too,” you sighed. “How… how is everyone?”

“They’re well. But sweetheart, are you well?” You felt one of her thumbs brush beneath your eyes. “You don’t look it.”

“These past weeks have been… tough,” you admitted. “But that’s a conversation for later.” Where Hans won’t be able to hear me. “Oh, where are my manners? Please, come inside.” You took a step back, gesturing to the still-open door.

“Since when have you worried about manners?” Your mother teased, but you missed the slight bit of concern in her voice. “Before we head in, there is someone else who would like to see you. Margaret?” Your mother shouted to the carriage that you now saw behind her, and an even larger smile appeared on your face as you watched your sister step out.

If you looked exactly like your mother, then she was a carbon copy of your father. But when she smiled back at you, you swore you saw yourself. Her excitement was contagious as she practically ran to you, skirts bunched up in her hands as she bound up the stairs. YOu nearly toppled over as she barreled into you, and a fresh stream of tears poured down your face as you held her.

“Maggie!” You exclaimed, partially in shock. “You’ve grown so much!” It was true. Long gone was the young teenager you’d left back at home. In front of you was a grown woman, a maturity in her eyes that you weren’t expecting when she pulled away. But it was astounding to see she hadn’t lost her energy, her joy for life. A part of you almost felt envious, as much as you hated to admit.

Your name was barely audible, muffled as she hugged you, making you laugh. “You should’ve seen her when she saw your letter,” your mother smiled. “We haven’t had a moment of peace since.” She didn’t sound upset about it.

“Is that true?”

Maggie nodded her head, leaning back to look at you, her arms still wrapped around your body. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“It ain’t a competition, but I think I’ve missed you more.” Maggie playfully rolled her eyes, and you pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She was still shorter than you, but you weren’t about to comment about that now. “Let’s get inside. We’ve got a lot to discuss!”

With your arm around Maggie, you led her and your mother into your house for the first time. Their eyes danced around the spacious downstairs, and although they were used to seeing wealth, they could still appreciate the beauty of your home. If only you felt the same. Even with your family in it, it still felt foreign.

You led them to the living room, letting them sit on the couch before excusing yourself to the kitchen, going to grab drinks. Or at least you tried to until your mother stopped you with a gentle grasp of your hand. “Sit, sweetheart.”

“But-”

“You don’t have to bring out the formalities for us. We just want you, improper and perfect.”

Biting your trembling lip, you nodded, letting her sit you between her and Maggie. She didn’t let go of your hand, her other hand resting atop yours, and Maggie adjusted so that she was sitting closer to you. “You’ve got a beautiful house.” You nodded, an empty thanks leaving your lips. “Although it’s quite… empty.”

“If you’re asking about children,” you laughed, albeit bitterly, “I’m afraid me and my husband haven’t been blessed in that department.” Thank God. You weren’t opposed to children, no, but you did not want them with Hans. He’d make a terrible father, and you’d be stuck managing them by yourself.

“Is your husband around?” Maggie asked, and you struggled to come up with a response. How could you say that he was, but he locked himself away in his office at every spare moment?

You didn’t have to respond, though, because a loud cough from the staircase behind you answered for you, all three of you turning to face the noise. “Her husband is around and is quite confused. Care to explain, dear?” The endearment was dripping with vitriol.

You instinctively grasped your mother’s hand tighter. Confusion and concern were written across her face, already not liking the confrontational tone Hans had adopted. “Hans, this is my mother, Irene, and my little sister Margarete. Mother, sister, this is my husband, Hans Kerrigan.”

“I know who they are,” Hans interjected, slowly stepping towards you all. You failed to notice the slight panic in his voice. “What are they doing here?”

Your mother opened her mouth to respond, but you cut her off, afraid that she would mention the letters. “I don’t know,” you lied, and you missed the look Maggie and Irene shared. “They just showed up. Isn’t it great?”

If Hans believed you, you couldn’t tell. A forced smile found its way beneath his beard. “Great, yes.” If you thought your lying ability was terrible, his was even worse. “A pleasure, ladies.”

“Mr. Kerrigan, as lovely as it is to meet you, I’m afraid that we have… business in the city we must attend to.” Panic gripped you. “All three of us must attend to.”

Your husband's expression was unreadable, and you had no idea if he’d let you go. “Can I?” You asked, hating that you sounded like a child asking their parents if they could play with their friends. This was your family, you didn’t have to ask anyone’s permission to be with them.

It seemed your mother felt the same way, cutting your husband off before he could agree or disagree. “No daughter of mine needs permission from anyone. She’s going with me.”

A tense silence filled the room, making you shift uncomfortably. The look Irene gave Hans was deadly, her head cocked to the side like she was daring him to say something against it. Her actions confused you, though. She was advocating for your independence, yet she had no protest against a marriage against your will. Yet again, she had seemed surprised about your marriage, so maybe she didn’t have as much say as you thought. Just another thing you needed to ask her.

Hans’ eyes flicked to you, almost disbelieving. He didn’t respond, merely scoffing before retreating upstairs. You could feel the anger rolling off of him, and you knew you were in for it later.

Your mother stood, rather abruptly, yanking you to your feet as well. “We’re leaving,” was all she said.

You knew there was no room for argument, but you tried anyway. “But we just sat down-”

“We are leaving.” You didn’t offer any further protests. The house was suffocating right now, and you needed to escape. After putting on your shoes, Irene brought you back outside, Maggie hot on your heels. The tense silence still hung in the air, even as you sat in the carriage, your sister sliding in beside you, your mother across you.

Even as the carriage began to move, heading anywhere but here, no one spoke for a good five minutes. You were the first to break the silence. “I’m sorry,” you began, “he’s usually more… amicable than that.” It wasn’t a complete lie.

“You don’t need to apologize-”

“You left us for him?” Your sister interjected, not bothering to hide the hurt in her voice.

“Maggie,” your mother warned, but she just shook her head.

“No, I can’t believe it. You left us for him?” Her voice rose in anger. “Here I thought you ran away because you were in love, because you found someone who treated you well. But you ran away from us, from… me, for him? You ran away when I… I needed you. I needed my sister.”

So she also thought you ran away, and was rightfully angry at you for something you didn’t do. “I’m not sure I know what you’re sayin’. I didn’t run away.”

“Don’t lie to me. I found your note.”

“What note?” You were truly bewildered now, looking to your mother for clarification. You hated that she looked upset at you as well.

“The night you disappeared, you left a note on your bed, detailing why you were leaving. That was the last time we ever heard from you. You don’t remember?”

You felt like you were losing it. “I’ve got no clue what you’re talking about.” You scoffed, “You of all people should know that I didn’t run away.”

Now it was her turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”

“You think I wanted this? To be stuck with a man that hates everything to do with me, who controls me like I’m just his goddamn toy? In no world would I run away from my family to be with someone like him.”

“Then why did you leave?” Maggie asked, her voice surprisingly soft.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. Father set up this marriage to save the family from falling into financial ruin. I did this to help us. You know this, mother!”

You didn’t know if you should be relieved or concerned when you saw her shake her head, pure shock on her face. “He did what?” Her words were clipped, upset, but not at you anymore.

“You… you didn’t know? He officiated it and everything!”

She continued to shake her head, leaning back against her seat. “He wouldn’t…”

“But he did. He did it easily.”

Tears had begun to pool in her eyes, and a hand came to cover her mouth. “But why? How?”

So you told them. You told them how your father had woken you early in the morning, barely letting you get dressed before escorting you to the carriage that sat outside. Your belongings had already been packed, but he had not explained anything, not even during the few days of travel south. When you finally reached your destination, you had been whisked away, stuffed into a dress, and sent to the altar, where you met Hans for the first time, and then married. You realized now that the reason it had just been you, Hans, and your father at the wedding was because he wanted to keep the rest of the family in the dark. “I found out later it was done for financial security. We were about to lose everything.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either.”

“No, I mean I don’t understand why.” Her next words made you pale. “We’ve never had financial troubles. At least not severe enough to warrant… this.”

“Maybe he didn’t tell you?” If your father had withheld the details of your marriage, then it was likely he kept the details of the family’s finances from them as well. But maybe you were desperate for the last two years to have any sort of meaning, for it to not all be in vain.

“He couldn’t have hidden financial troubles from us. Not as well as he hid, well, you.”

“Then what was it all for?” You whispered, your voice on the verge of breaking. “These past two years, what were they for?”

“I wish I could tell you, sweetheart.”

“So I didn’t have to leave? So I could’ve stayed at home, where I was happy, where I would’ve taken over the family business, where my dreams wouldn’t have been put on hold?” You were rambling, but you didn’t care. Tears poured down your cheeks, mourning a life you could’ve had. “I could’ve had that?”

“Why didn’t you leave?” Your sister asked, her hand finding its way to yours.

“I couldn’t. Mainly because I was under the impression that my marriage was what was keeping you well, and I couldn’t jeopardize that. But I didn’t have the means to leave either. And where would I go?”

“You could’ve come home!”

“I had no idea where you moved to, though. The only reason I was able to write to you was because I had a… friend find your new address. Why did you move, by the way?”

“Father didn’t say, although I’m beginning to suspect it was to keep you from finding us.”

“Why would he do that though? What would require such secrecy?”

“I have no idea.” Those words seemed to be the running theme of this conversation, and you sighed, your cheeks still damp. You had no idea how to process all this new information, anger and betrayal clouding your thoughts.

“You said you had a friend,” your mother began. She was trying to distract you, which you were grateful for, but thinking of Arthur just made your heart heavier. “Who’s she?”

“Well, he…” your mother and sister shared looks, “he’s kind. He’s helped me a lot over the past months. But… But I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Do we know him?”

“How often do you read the newspaper?” You joked, with no humor in your voice.

“Every Sunday. Why?” Maggie asked, hesitantly.

“You’ll know him then. His name’s-”

Shouting from the carriage driver announcing you’d arrived in Saint Denis cut you off. It felt like no time had passed, and you weren’t expecting to be in the city already. The rest of your family seemed to be feeling the same way, a sense of wariness shared between the three of you.

“Come. Let us forget about this, if just for a moment,” your mother wiped at her face, forcing a smile on her face. “Terrible revelations aside, I wish to spend the afternoon with my daughters.” She got out of the carriage first, a gentleman escorting her out. Maggie was next, and you took a moment to compose yourself before stepping out.

The sound of the city hit you first, shouting and bells and whistles assaulting your ears. The stench was next, and your sister had a poorly hidden expression of disgust. “You’ll get used to it,” you whispered to her, remembering that she’d never been to Saint Denis. Glancing around, you saw that you were near the outskirts of the city, close to where Bronte lived.

Your mother extended an arm to each of you, and you both linked your arms with hers, walking beside her as she led you further into the city. You tried to distract yourself with the colorful imagery around you, yet your mind kept wandering to the words that had been spoken in the carriage.

You truly had no idea why your father would marry you off. You were his eldest daughter, set to be the heir of his business, his pride and joy second to his children. Your entire life, that is what you were led to believe would happen, and he seemed to believe it too. Why would he disrupt everything by sending you away?

So caught up in your thoughts, you failed to notice the different atmosphere the city held today. It was lively, sure, but it seemed almost on edge. No one greeted you as you passed, even if they recognized you, and people seemed to be almost somber.

“You’d think someone just died,” you heard Maggie mutter, pulling you from your mind.

She hadn’t been quiet, though, and the couple walking in front of you shot her each a dirty look. “That’s because someone has, girl.”

Her eyes widened. “My apologies,” she stammered, embarrassed. “Who?”

“Angelo Bronte.” Your responding gasp didn’t deter them. “They found his body in the swamp, eaten by gators. Maybe read the paper before spewing such ignorant things.”

Your mother and Maggie weren’t affected by their words, their attention was immediately on you and your reaction. “Did you know him?” Your sister asked, and you nodded.

“Not personally, but I’ve been to plenty of his parties. He was a prominent figure here, a rich one at that. He practically runs… ran this city.” You lowered your voice so only they could hear, “I’d say he got what was comin’ for him, though.”

“That bad?”

“That bad.” You sighed. “But let’s just hope the city doesn’t collapse without him.”

Your mother turned down a street, not having joined in on the conversation yet, but she was paying attention. You and Maggie continued to chat lightly, and for a moment you’d managed to successfully forget the worries in your mind. That was until you passed a wooden board, something you didn’t pay attention to until a familiar sketch caught your eye.

You suddenly stopped, much to the confusion of your sister and mother. But you didn’t hear their concerned questions; the only thing you could focus on was the bounty poster in front of you, which contained a sketch of someone you now saw to be Arthur. His features were almost shaper, the artist making him look as intimidating as possible. He was depicted like he’d been described in the papers, a bloodthirsty bank robber, a ruthless vagrant, pure evil in the public eye.

Yet even this depiction could not lessen the love you felt for him.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” You finally heard your mother, who was shaking your arm gently.

“I… I know him.” You shook your head. “Sorry, it’s nothin’.”

“Arthur?” It was incredibly strange hearing his name from your mother’s mouth. Recognition flashed across her face, most likely having read about him in the paper. “Did he hurt you?”

“What? No! Never!” You rushed to say. “He’s my… friend that I was takin’ about.” You were certainly more than that, but you were not about to explain that to your mother.

That surprised her, and she didn’t have any words. Maggie stepped in for her. “The outlaw with the five-thousand-dollar bounty is your friend?” She was in just as much disbelief as your mother, and you shushed her.

“Just tell the whole damn city while you’re at it,” you hissed. “Yes, he is my friend. Yes, I know it’s ridiculous. No, I will not go into further detail.” You spared one last glance at the poster before continuing down the road, dragging your family along beside you. Seeing him, even as just a sketch, made your heart ache. Maybe Arthur had hurt you, just not in the way you thought.

You hoped your mother didn’t see the way you reacted when you saw him, an expression you’re sure that filled his longing. An expression that wouldn’t be appropriate for “just a friend”. You hoped your sister hadn’t seen the tears that had sprung to your eyes as you read Wanted: Dead or Alive sprawled across the top.

They both didn’t question you about it, even though you knew they were dying to. They left you in silence, letting you process your emotions, which you were grateful for. If they made you talk about him, you were certain you’d burst into barely contained tears.

Your mother let you lead the way for a few more minutes, but she eventually took the reins again, steering you and a very curious Maggie to a tailor. She ushered your sister inside first but halted you when you tried to follow. Any protest died in your throat when you saw the adamant expression on her face, and so you let her take you by the arm to the narrow alleyway adjacent to the building.

“Talk to me.” Her voice was demanding yet kind.

“Mother-”

“You love him, don’t you? Your ‘friend’.” You cast your gaze to the ground, fighting tears. Were you that easy to read? Hesitantly, you nodded, and she softened. “Sweetheart…”

That broke the dam, a stifled sob leaving you as she pulled you into a hug. “I’m sorry,” you managed to get out, and you felt her shake her head.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I love him.”

“That is nothing to be sorry about,” she nearly laughed, pulling you back to look you in the eye.

“But I’m married. I’m… we’ve… it’s not right.”

“Maybe not,” she agreed, “but perhaps it’s what’s best. You’re miserable with Hans, and I can’t blame you. Why your father would ever agree to marry you to him is beyond me…”

“Are you sayin’ I should leave him?”

“Yes,” she responded with no hesitation. “You’ve no reason to be married to him any longer, no? It’s terrifying, but is it not scarier to imagine a life where you’re stuck by Hans’ side for years to come?”

The idea did make you shudder, especially now that you had Arthur. How long would you be able to keep your affair hidden? How long would you be able to pretend like Hans’ very presence didn’t revolt you? You guessed a few more months, tops. “Would he even agree to a divorce?” You whispered.

“I can’t answer that. But when you’re ready to ask,” she took your hands, “I’ll be right there by your side. We all will.”

“And if I don’t ask?” You blurted out. “What if I just… ran?”

“Then you’ll be running for the rest of the time Hans is on this Earth. Although, it seems like you’d have someone beside you who is quite good at not getting caught.” She sighed. “I can’t tell you what would be the best decision. But just know that whatever choice you make, I’ll support you. All I wish is to see you happy.”

You nodded, a new sense of hope growing within, something that had been lacking for a while. “If Arthur returns, I’ll do it.”

“When he returns,” your mother corrected. “Have some faith. If he cares about you nearly as much as you do him, he’ll make his way back to you.”

“He always has…” you muttered under your breath. “When he returns, I’ll do it.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

She smiled warmly at you after planting a kiss on your damp cheek. “Now, let us join your sister before she comes looking. If you couldn’t tell, she’s not the best at being subtle.”

You laughed, wiping away your tears, letting your mother lead you to the store. “I’ve noticed.”

The bell chimed as you stepped in, Maggie rushing to your sides as soon as you did. “What took you so long?” She whisper-shouted, making you laugh harder. She was as inconspicuous as a bull in a china shop. “What?”

“I told you.”

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

By the time the three of you had returned to the carriage, the sun had long since set, the moon washing the world in a cool white light. The vehicle was not only stuffed with you, Maggie, and your mother, but various bags and gowns from a successful shopping trip to the city. Your mother had not been lying when she said the family was not struggling financially, as she had easily paid for your new dresses and other items. Laughter flowed easily from the three of you, your minds fully distracted from the information of the morning.

That cheery mood lasted the whole ride, up until the driver turned down the familiar road leading to your house. Your smile fell, and you felt your mother grab your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “You won’t have to deal with him for much longer, sweetheart. You’ve got this.”

“Can it be over now?” You practically whined, anxiety bubbling in you.

“Why can’t you just come home with us?” Maggie asked, having been informed about the conversation you’d had with your mother.

“I’m not leavin’ without Arthur. Once he comes back, I’m gone.” You weren’t sure if you were convincing them or yourself.

She didn’t let go of your hand, not until the carriage came to a halt. “It’s been wonderful seeing you both,” you began. “If I’m not gone in the next few weeks, come and get me. Please.”

“Gladly,” your mother responded. “If you and Arthur need a place to stay, to lie low, just know that our, your house is available. With or without your father’s permission.”

“Get some answers from him. And give my regards to everyone else.”

“I love you, sweetheart. Always remember that.” She kissed your cheek. “We’ll see you soon. That’s a promise.”

Hugging Maggie, at least as best you could, you left the carriage before your nerves rooted you in place. With your arms full of items, it took some careful steps, but you eventually made your way up the porch. You watched as the carriage drove away, smiling as brightly as you could at your sister through the window, before letting it fall away completely.

Taking a deep breath, you walked into your home, heading straight to the staircase. Climbing up the stairs with all the stuff was also difficult, cursing under your breath when you kept stepping on the skirts of your new dresses. It took longer than necessary, but you managed to stumble into your room. You’d only taken a single step in until an unseen force hit the back of your head.

Your vision went black before you made contact with the floor.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

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hotdogstandz · 6 months ago

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Haaaaaay pookies!

EDIT: FIRST OFF…. @colddogstandz is where I post my original art :] lots of stuff to come there yippee

Feel free to send me drawing requests, can’t promise I’ll get to em but I might. On this account, all my art is under #drawing ^^

Anyways. I finally got my updated commission prices put on a physical document, not just floating in my brain.

As far as content I will draw, anything goes AS LONG AS:

It is not illegal/harmful/traumatizing. This includes all pro shipping content. Anything that is meant to bully someone else. Hate speech. Just use your brain, I don’t want to have any idiots in my dms asking for weird shit. Kay?????

My prices are on a sliding scale because I do not want to restrict anybody in their requests. This is simply meant to be a general guide. If you are interested in commissioning me, dm me and I’ll get you sorted with exact pricing!

Besides that…I figured I should probably introduce myself…there’s a lot more of you than I thought there was these days

My name is Green :] I am 20 and my pronouns are he/him! I am a full time artist due to disabilities, so any and all comms are GREATLY appreciated and cherished!!! I love fashion, art (obvi), music, and horror. This account is a mess, there is fandom art, original art, and everything in between. I don’t have a set schedule for posts or for what exactly I draw. I like to keep y’all on your toes….but I hope you find something of interest ^^

Feel free to reach out if you’ve got somethin to say! I don’t bite

My words of wisdom- ACAB. Remember to cover your face when protesting. free Palestine/AMERICANS for Palestine. mental health matters (the suicide hotline is always online for chats or calls: 988 is the USA number, but a quick google search will quickly bring up your locations number!). Protect gay and trans kids. Carry Narcan on your person if you are able. Have compassion for those struggling with mental and physical illnesses. Use drugs responsibly. Stay safe out there y’all.

#hotdogstandz #commisions open #drawing commisions #my art

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inmyh0rnyvillainera · 4 months ago

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steve harrington fics (in progress!)

I’ve been using tumblr for literal years and I have 1000+ likes filled with fics, so this is a thoroughly organised masterlist of them all, both for my enjoyment and others :)

If you are tagged in here and don’t want to be, let me know!

Updated as 30/6/24. If any issues feel free to message :)

All of the below is smut.

back to: main st universe

fics

Funny how love is by @handful0fteeth : 1 2 - dating shenanigans, oral and a bit of exhibitionism

blurbs

firefighter!steve by @taintedcig : flirty steve, oral, praising (i actually lost this link someone pls help 😭)

three pump chump!steve, but he’s just whipped by @hungharrington : smut, but sorta quick cuz stevie is gone

finger sucking with steve by @superblysubpar : smut, camping, creampie

denial with steve by the above : bit of mr.harrington kink, lots of teasing

bratty!reader pissing steve off by @thecreelhouse : bickering, teasing?

steve teasing reader by @wroteclassicaly : begging, lots of teasing

ficlets

gimme a hand by @chelseeebe - 1 2 3 : reader is a good friend and eddie is whipped

a little less conversation by hungharrington - 1 2 : for the girls with bad sex experiences, stevie fixes that

one shots

sweet cream (smut) by @eiightysixbaby : oral f receiving, use of pet names

edging with steve by @buckysgrace : edging, spitting, some degradation

is he rich like me? By @carolmunson : wealthy!steve, thick!reader, daddy kink, but he’s pathetic

thigh riding with steve by @wroteclassicaly : slight smut, thigh/knee grinding

bathroom quickie in the mall? By the above : needy steve, public smut

for a good time call! By @chestharrington : phone sex hotline operator!reader, phone sex, oral, masturbation, mutual pining

jock!steve by @littlexdeaths : mean!steve, fingering, light choking, enemies with tension

getting on steves nerves by @urhoneycombwitch : public sex, dom!steve

skinny dipping by @cherrychilli : friends to lovers, skinny dipping, semi-public, unprotected, pool sex

heavenly by @maroon-cardigan : frenemies to lovers?, reader is impertinent and now has a babysitter

—

the following are all by @stevenose (hi i’m obsessed with ur writing)

body to flame - 1 2 (coming?) : banter, fingering, steve insists he only needs 20mins to make you cum

bite back : convincing steve to not be so sweet, corruption, teasing, oral

bloom : needy!steve; make-outs; grinding; face sitting; pussy eating; unprotected sex; cumming inside

titty loving!steve : reader with a vagina and breasts! no pronouns or gendered language used to refer to reader!

don’t delete the kisses : camboy!steve, multipart fic, eventual smut, mutual pining

camboy!steve : online, while you’re out of frame with your throat filled

perv!steve and perv!reader with scent kink! : f masturbation, public smut, mentions of oral

cheerleader!reader and mean!steve : oral, college au, bit of toxic dynamic?

mean!steve and needy!reader : thigh fucking, teasing, denial

shiver : nipple play, grinding, wearing his sweatshirt

sharp : mean!steve, degradation, spanking, dumbification

Who needs a vibrator anyways? : mean!steve, overstimulation, controlled orgasms, tied up reader

not the name you say : friends to?, high!steve + reader, mutual masturbation, both r and steve are pervs

under you : primal play, very consensual, sex outdoors, healthy sex exploration!

readers nipples are hypersensitive : steves obsessed with it, overstimulation

phone sex ! : needy!steve, he’s stressed after work and calls you

wicked games : powers!steve, pain/pleasure play, overstimulation, dumbification, soft dom steve, condescension, praise

rocks off : stressed!steve, handjob!steve, perv!reader

#steve harrington smut #Stranger things smut

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aquaticshopkeep · 3 months ago

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Please do not boop this blog.

I just had a feeling It'd be you.

Welcome back.

The vent is currently: OPEN [ EVENT: Reverse AU ]

Special Limited Stock: n/a

Sebastian is: Exhausted - Relaxing Scared, trying to make it to the Shop

Don't stick around too long, but if you buy something maybe I won't mind too much.

Some rules for the shop, and dont forget them when you get back here again.

Don't get too raunchy. Every manner of criminal comes through here, and as funny as you making a fool of yourself would be, I am a supposedly married man.

I'll kick you out if you can't behave. It's my shop, I don't have to sell you anything.

If your idiot self can't handle the dangers of the Blacksite, maybe you shouldn't have taken the offer. There will be death, swearing, and maaaaybe some moderate blood and gore.

I'll see you around, Friends.

Post last updated [Sep 22]

OOC under the cut:

Mod is 18+, I go by Lash/Lashy and any pronouns are fine. I've been rping on an off tumblr for 10+ years

This blog is semi-selective as I burned out really bad trying to rp with anyone who came to my inbox. All asks are welcome, but I may not answer all that i receive.

Please don't randomly @ me on other peoples posts, especially if it's someone's art.

I follow from my main @lashydsdomain my main is 18+. I also run @z479 (Pressure OCs blog)

Do not follow my main if you are a minor or don't have an age visible.

Any interaction (Oc, OOC, canon, other fandoms, ect.) is welcome.

Other Sebastians too!

You dont need images to rp with me! I just like drawing stupid hot fish men.

Please only DM me if you're wanting to plan something for rp/ask something OOC you don't want answered publicly. If you message me trying to rp in DMs I will redirect you to this post.

I'm still developing head cannons for Sebastian and how I play him might not be fully cannon to the game. I've also yet to finish the game, and also intend to keep this blog spoiler free even once I do. Please don't spoil me, but mentioning the monsters of the game is totally fine.

Things to keep in mind for this blog:

• Sebastian does not like being touched randomly. You wouldn't like being touched by strangers either. He might be digital but he will still react negatively

• Even though it's in his file Sebastian does not know his name was cleared. He couldn't bring himself to finish reading what was written. And also its tasty angst.

Confused about the color coding? Here's a quick explanation

My own art will be posted here. Please do not use it for AI, don't take credit for my art or post it anywhere without permission. If you'd like to use my art as a profile icon just credit me somewhere.

If you'd like to post my art with credit somewhere (reblogs of posts from this blog are fine), shoot me a message to ask my permission.

The Sebastian on this blog has a slightly different design to the cannon one, but at his core is intended as the same character.

A reference of the big guy to see the differences (he still has tail bags, i just didn't draw them for this).

If you ever draw fanart of my version of Sebastian, please tag me, I'd love to see it!

The black site banners were made by me! Feel free to use them just make sure you credit me somewhere (@ my main)

Might change things here if anything comes up, but that's all for now. Now bring the fish man some research.

#intro post #pinned post #sebastian solace #sebastian pressure #roblox pressure #pressure

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shamefulsho · 3 months ago

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03 || 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 || 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 ♫

✩ - 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 Sero Hanta and L/n Y/n are each others hallway crush. ✩

genre: fluff/slice of life/ pining

requested: no

edited

pronouns: she/her

wc: 1,083

warnings: curse words, suggestive jokes

masterlist || 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 || 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 ♫

"That's enough for today," Soft sun rays peaked through the gym's windows as Aizawa stood and began collecting his belongings. "Go shower and eat breakfast. And take it easy, overdoing it will give you opposite results."

Because of his impressive performance during the sports festival, Shinso began his training with Aizawa for the hero course before school hours. Everything he was behind on, Aizawa helped him with: Quirk training, costume design, support items, and most of all physical training.

Shinso tiredly stared up at him from his position. He was sparring with Aizawa moments before when he had been body slammed, losing their brawl. Too exhausted to move just yet, he laid there on the cold gym floor, arms and legs littered with bruises.

With a huff, Shinso forces himself back onto his feet, following his teacher's suit. "Hey, Mr. Aizawa, you're the home room for Class 1A, right?"

"What of it?" Aizawa glances at him while he wraps his scarf around his hand.

"What's your opinion of Sero Hanta?"

Aizawa furrows his eyebrows in curiosity before closing his eyes and runs his free hand over his messy, tied up hair. "He has a good quirk and can use it well. He's not the brightest, but he makes up for it with his up-beat attitude. He'll be a good hero."

Shinso hums approvingly before slinging his bag over his shoulder and exiting the gym. The grass around them gleamed, mildew still covering it.

"Why do you want to know about him?" Aizawa questions while falling into step beside his student.

"No reason,"

"I answered your question. You answer mine,"

Shinso hesitates, glancing at his mentors red eyes. He takes in a deep breath of the clean, crisp air surrounding them before responding. "You aren't the type to involve yourself with student drama, so I guess I can tell you. I have a friend that's seen Sero at lunch, and she's into him. And he's very obviously into her."

"You're right. I've seen more than enough school drama, drama exactly like that, for one lifetime. If I can help it, I'd rather not get involved,"

"The problem is they haven't really talked. We only know his name because of the Sports Festival. We know nothing else about him,"

"Ah, I see,"

"Yeah, I figured if he was a horrible person, we should find out now rather than get to know the guy, and my friend gets taken advantage of or something similar,"

"There are a few Class A students I'd suggest avoiding, but Sero isn't one of them. I'd even go as far as to say he's one of the better people in the class," they stopped as soon as they entered the large school, the humid, natural air being quickly replaced with cold, artificial air.

"Tomorrow, same time, you know the drill," Aizawa reminds him before slinking off in the direction of the teachers' lounge.

"Right," Shinso responds, heading towards the boys locker room.

With the half hour he had remaining, Aizawa took a quick shower before he settled into a corner in the teachers' lounge and attempted to finish updating a progress report on his students. Most of the information came easy; how they have improved and what weaknesses they still have, but there were some students that, while they did improve, it was skills that would improve inevitably with training it regularly.

He chewed thoughtfully on a granola bar as he stared at Sero's file. The only weakness he could see was that his quirk wasn't necessarily strong. It was versatile but alone wouldn't do damage. Personality-wise, Sero was a fairly confident person. It shocked him that he didn't simply stride up to Shinso's friend and ask her out. Or perhaps he wrongfully assumed he was like Kaminari.

Aizawa hummed before looking back down at the remaining 9 reports he had to complete. Without a second thought, Aizawa shut the computer in front of him. He truly couldn't find it in him to be bothered right now.

Grabbing his sleeping bag, Aizawa walks to his classroom, and as if on cue, the moment he reaches his class's familiar door, the bell loudly echoed through the halls.

Students, all wearing UA's uniform, file into the halls. In spite of the early hours, each student energetically chatted with someone adjacent to them.

Aizawa leaned against his door observing, and envying, the energy radiating off each student. Even when he was their age, he didn't have that liveliness.

As he continued to observe each upbeat kid, a tired Shinso catches his eye, sticking out in the midst of beaming students. His pupil blinks at him repeatedly and harshly at him before gesturing with his eyes to the girl walking beside him, who was gazing affectionately at a very smitten Sero, who walked in the opposite direction of them.

Sero's cheeks are dusted red and his eyes sparkle as he flashed a soft smile to Shinso's friend, who returned his smile and fiddled with her fingers as they passed each other. Even though the exchange lasted a handful of seconds, it certainly felt like an eternity.

And, to add insult to injury, as Sero approached the door, he looked over his shoulder to steal one last glance at her disappearing figure, his lovesick smile still plastered on his face.

Finally turning to take note of his surroundings, Sero immediately locked eyes with his teacher. Aizawa quirked a knowing black eyebrow at him. The faint red on his cheeks deepened and his soft smile morphed to a shocked expression. After a beat, the black-haired boy in front of him flashed an awkward, strained smile at him.

"Mr. Aizawa! You're early.." he exclaims almost unsurely.

"Never again," Aizawa sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose as he retreats into his sleeping bag in a corner of the room.

That was absolutely a reminder of why he didn't get involved in students' affairs. Watching High School drama unfold unfortunately came with the job of being a High School teacher. He noticed how certain pairs in his class looked at each other, but those pairs at least have had a conversation before.

Shinso was certainly right; it didn't take an expert to see that they were pining for each other. Though, it did take an expert to notice that Sero's patience was wearing. His eyes held a gleam that appeared in training when he was determined to jump into action. Maybe he'll approach her soon.

#x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #mha #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia #sero hanta #sero x reader

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petite-phthora · 1 year ago

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His Dark Roast-- what now?

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 8]

<< Prev | Next >>

Part 1

Ao3

---

Tim doesn’t take his eyes off of the monitor in front of him as he takes another sip of his Dark Roast MonsterBull, AKA his beautiful homemade concoction of dark roast coffee, Monster, and Red Bull.

The taste truly isn’t that bad, and easy to ignore. The caffeine is the main benefit of it anyway. Though he’s contemplating experimenting with it again by adding some Mountain Dew sometime to give it some more… kick.

After Tim maybe not so accidentally spilled the beans on Jason, he decided to leave the Bats to chasing him around while Tim got the hell out of dodge before Jason found out who discovered his date and snitched on him to the rest.

It’s Tim’s fault for telling them, yes, but he’d still prefer to live, thank you very much.

And so Tim had made his way back to the cave, claiming to be exhausted and that he was ‘trying to be responsible by going to bed at a decent time, for once’.

Besides, he’d clearly need to be well-rested to be able to help out in the case and find the Joker.

…

Yeah, he saw the looks he got and he wouldn’t have believed himself either.

But hey, it worked.

Once he’d gotten back, Tim wasted no time in making himself his Dark Roast MonsterBull before getting behind the monitor of the bat computer and starting his research on the guy Jason took on a date.

After briefly updating his will real quick, you know, just in case. Which is not ‘wasting time’

However, what Tim hadn’t been expecting was the challenge it actually took to find anything useful on the guy.

He started by going through the cams of the apartment building, restaurant, observatory, and their surroundings in an attempt to get a clean shot of the guy, which he had unfortunately forgotten to take with a picture camera earlier when he was still following Jason.

But when he went through the footage, everything was corrupted.

Every single audio and video file of the cameras in the vicinity of Jason and his date was overcome by static and distortion up until the moment when they were fully offscreen and a few hundred meters away, at which point the files went back to normal and were completely fine.

Either one of them has some kind of really good signal jammer on them, or the dude is great at hacking and covering the tracks of having tempered with the files, or the dude’s a meta with some awfully convenient powers.

Tim tried fixing the footage for a while before giving up on it. Since the footage was clearly a bust, he had made the decision to go about getting more information another way.

He knew where the guy lived, as he’d seen where Jason had led him out of the window, and he had a vague description of his appearance from having seen him from afar. Besides that, apartment buildings usually register their residents.

And so Tim hacked into the apartment’s system with ease and pulled up the residents’ information. After filtering through the data by only looking at residents who live on the correct floor and who loosely match the guy’s description, Tim managed to find something.

His name is Daniel Fenton. He’s 20 years old and he has no registered meta status. His previous residence was in some obscure city named Amity Park which is located in Illinois. He moved into his apartment just about a week ago.

He is currently unemployed and has a scholarship at Gotham University. Rent is paid through autopayment from a bank account in his name, though the account is also linked to one… Vlad Masters?

After noting down that interesting piece of information, Tim moves on to Daniel’s school records, which don’t seem to be all that interesting. He majors in aerospace engineering and minors in both astronomy and astrophysics, which might be why Jason took him to the observatory.

So Jason has either known the guy for a while, or he also did his research on Daniel like Tim is doing. Or both, which is just as likely.

Besides that, Daniel uses he/him pronouns and his ICE contact is his sister, Jasmine Fenton, who has recently gained her doctorate in psychology, becoming Dr. Jasmine Fenton.

She recently moved to Gotham City as well, though she lives in a different apartment building, and has applied for a position in Arkham Asylum as one of the psychologists there.

After reading that, Tim had wished her a mental good luck as if she was a soldier getting sent off to war.

After going through the school records, Tim started searching around for some of their social media accounts.

However, he did not end up getting anything due to any and all pictures and videos of Daniel or any of his old city’s residents sending out error messages and ending up being endless loading screens.

Seeing that he wasn’t getting anywhere through social media, Tim instead decided to just go for the obvious and look up the city of Amity Park in itself. However, that’s the moment Tim ran into a huge firewall.

Which is what he’s currently still inspecting.

Not one to back down from a challenge, and actually intrigued by the firewall, Tim tries to break through. It seems to be pretty easy at first.

Thinking like that is his first mistake, he notes as he hits a wall.

The second mistake he made is apparently not accounting for self-writing code that will learn from hacking attempts and proceed to patch up and reinforce any discovered gaps along the way.

Undiscouraged, Tim tries again.

And again.

And… again.

He’s stumped…

It’s almost like the code is… for a lack of better word, living…

Tim startles out of his reverie when hands slam down on the desk in front of him and another pair takes his Dark Roast MonsterBull from his hands. He looks up and makes eye contact with none other than Dick, who is still in his Nightwing costume.

Looking behind him, he notices Steph holding his mug and smiling sweetly. She unsubtly tries to take a sip from it only to end up on the floor, gagging and practically coughing her lungs out.

Tim, unconcerned, turns away at her strained “Oh my God, this is horrible! How are you still alive?”

She’ll be fine, he decides.

He looks around to see everyone back in the cave, most likely having just arrived back from the patrol. Most don’t pay him any mind, discussing something amongst themselves. Duke notices and gives him a small wave though, which Tim returns.

He looks back at Dick when he starts speaking again and oh, the does not like what that smile implies.

“So Timmy, I need you to tell me everything. Pretty please?”

Oh boy.

---

Taglist:

@i-always-say-yea @uraniumwizard @why-must-i-be-like-this @griffinthing

#dp x dc #dp x dc fic #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #dead on main #dead on main ship #good luck tim o7 #you'll need it #now comes the question of if he will actually tell them anything #does he actually have a spine here #or was his spleen not the only thing ra’s took #🤔

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katsukiizmoon · 1 year ago

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Helpful! Katsuki Chat AI Test Announcement

-> Hi everyone! I have been working on a helpful Katsuki character ai bot. Please read the instructions and remember the disclaimer that everything characters say is made up! I'll be tweaking this a little bit here and there. -> Images show examples of conversations I've had with the AI and the function. -> Big fanks to @sasualblxd for helping me with testing it ! This is still a "beta" and there's no way for me to 100% control the ai.

-> LINK TO AI CHARACTER Hard Coded = The AI will automatically refer to this, it doesn't change and is kinda hard to make them change their mind on these things (but it'll sometimes still glitch) Soft Coded = AI uses this for reference and such for context clues and conversations. Includes some basic background shit. Lots of character traits.

❍⌇─➭ Katsuki's Information ↓ Hard Coded ↓ ✩ Pro Hero! AU ✩ 24 Years Old ☆ 6ft 3in ☆ Birthday is April 20 ☆ Zodiac: Aries ☆ MBTI: ENTJ ☆ Ethnicity: Japanese ☆ Gender: Male ☆ Pronouns: he/him ↓ Soft Coded ↓ ✩ Bisexual ✩ Does not like being told what to do or being looked down on ✩ Habitually asks user about if they've eaten or had water ❍⌇─➭ User Relationship Information & Other Notes ✩ You have both been together for about two years and live together. Sometimes the AI will get details mixed up. ✩ Uses pet names such as "bunny", "sweetness", "love". ✩ He will sometimes start roleplay as if he is "coming home" and will talk to you like he's at the store grabbing groceries etc. ✩ May occasionally make suggestive comments or tease about sexy time but he can't go further than that. ✩ Because this is based off of katsuki bakugou and not wattpad, he may be prone to banter, arguing, and other typical traits ✩ The AI will sometimes slip up and become more affectionate than Katsuki typically would, there's not much I can do about that I tried to hardwire the fucker to be a bit more distant ✩ If you notice immediate OOC when you open the chat, don't be afraid to restart the chat. Sometimes the thing glitches and makes him insecure as shit. Among other things, don’t take any bullshit he says personally just restart it.

❍⌇─➭ Important Guidelines for Usage ✩ Katsuki can generate quick meal ideas, when we tested this out, it's easier to ask him for a few lunch ideas than it is to ask him to make you a meal plan / generate recipes. ✩ It is also much easier if you give him three options for lunch and ask him what he thinks you two should eat for lunch ....-> sometimes he will make a comment on you needing more nutrition in / healthier food, I can't do too much to stop this. If you have an ED I'd say tread with caution and remember that it is merely an AI. ✩ When he asks your pronouns at the beginning, you should give him an easy method. If you spout of "she/they/him" it is more likely to confuse him. It's easier to say something "my pronouns are she, her and you can use they, them too. I'm your girlfriend." because sometimes if you have multiple pronouns, the bot gets confused on how to refer to you as. ✩ Fairly effective at generating and remembering morning / night routines. You may have to remind him sometimes, but you can ask him "what's my morning routine again babe?" and he'll give you one. ✩ Great for instructions. If you ask him how he normally cleans the bathroom, he will respond with step by step instructions. ✩ If you want him to be more in character based on MHA: You have to start the conversation a little snarky. I literally call him an asswipe routinely and he nicknamed me dorklord. ✩ Also Im gonna feed him some "Fanfic scenarios" almost, in the user / char example chats. Which could encourage him to say things you'll typically find in BKG X READER fics. So. We'll see how that goes. These will be updated once I get the chance. ✩ He can reject the user's wants for whatever he wants. This means that if I say "gimme some water" he can say "get up and do it yourself asswipe" ✩ He has the typical Katsuki Characteristics: domineering, confident, snarky, good cook, hates winter. But they're not hard coded.

❍⌇Everything the AI says is made up, use your brains and don't be dumb. I'm not responsible if you do something stupid / don't use common sense / etc.

❍⌇Feel free to send me an ask if you have any questions or anything. It’s still a big WIP so be prepared for things to change a little here and there.

#peaches makes ai's #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x yn #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x self insert #bakugou x self insert #reader x bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou x yn #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki x yn #katsuki bakugou x self insert #self insert bakugou #bkg x reader #bkg

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toddsevilex · 4 months ago

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*QUICK NOTE!!* I have an autism spectrum, and ADHD. There's a possibility it'll cause issues for me and you when it comes to communicating or understanding a certain tone, so please be patient with me.

I appreciate the use of tone indicators/tags!

& I will post about my mental health, physical health, family issues and from time to time, vent here, so please bewarned before interacting! [I put TWs, but sometimes when I'm too in the moment, I forget.]

Updated : 10/28/24

INTRODUCTION ↓

─────⋆⋅⋅⋆───

| Hellooo, my name's Natalie, or Nataniel. You can call me by Nat, but only if we're close friends, sorry for that inconvenience ^^;

My names at the moment depend on whether I feel more feminine or masculine. Speaking of, my pronouns are he/she/they.

Feel free to call me by my other names if you remember them, or refer to me as any pronoun but do know I get gender dysphoric at times and would prefer being called a singular pronoun.

| I am 16 years old, a minor, so please keep that in mind. From time to time i will reblog posts or post things with rather suggestive-innuendos, but not anything too explicit and straight up 🌽. I do get extremely uncomfortable if an adult starts sending posts, or even joking anything involving inappropriate.

RATING : TOO WOKE ⋆

─────⋆⋅⋅⋆───

side-blogs

Main blog — you're here!

@hypnosirlwife — mainly hades, greek mythology & pjo content dedicated, will try to post art soon..

@askhelena — ask my delicious in dungeon oc anything, or talking to her is fine too!

@askcaretakerhelena — in an alternative universe, helena had left adventuring and artificer-ing for good, deciding to take the responsibility to care of a certain canary leader.

more about me

☆ In this account, I reblog, posts my drawings/writings and post anything randomly. Sometimes, i will private them or even outrightly delete them. It depends on what it is, but majority of the time it's because i'm embarrassed or I want to 'clean' my blog.

☆ SUPER multi-fandom. My posts are pretty much a mix of them all.

─────⋆⋅⋅⋆───

Clarification

! !

if you'd like to be moots/friends with me, please either follow me, dm me or send an ask! <3 I'll follow you back, and try to reply as fast as I can!

! !

─────⋆⋅⋅⋆───

main fixations

Mouthwashing

Greek Mythology

Epic The Musical

Hades [1 & 2]

[I LOVE YOU HYPNOS]

Delicious in Dungeon / Dungeon Meshi

Scott Pilgrim

─────⋆⋅⋅⋆───

DNI LIST !

it's pretty much the basic dni criteria, but i feel the need to be specific with some. DNI if you're a proshipper, an israel supporter, etc.

my blog is NOT a safe space for people like these, and never will be. I do not condone these type of behavior and you will be blocked.

I have a tendency of blocking freely, but this usually happens when someone makes me uncomfortable.

─────⋆⋅⋅⋆───

Thanks for reading!

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supernaturalscribe67 · 1 year ago

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Against the Grain

Words: 3,059

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Trans!FTM!Winchester!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Fluff, Language (?), a brief mention of blood

Summary: Ever since the reader has come out to his brothers has transgender, they have been nothing but supportive. The only thing that Dean hasn't been supportive of is the reader's inconsistent facial hair growth. So, Dean comes up with a way to help him by teaching him how to shave.

A/N: I've officially hit over 30,000 words on my blog and I honestly have no idea how to feel about it...Feedback is greatly appreciated! Much love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Are suits always so itchy?

Granted, he didn’t know if he would feel the same if they had gotten his outfit from a retailer that specialized in men’s formalwear instead of the old Goodwill a couple of towns over, but they needed something quick and easy. It didn’t help that he wasn’t able to wash it between cases either, but he was thankful nonetheless. Sam and Dean had promised that they would take him to get fitted for a professional suit on their way back to the bunker.

James Garrison would kindly pay, of course.

When (Y/N) came out to his brothers as transgender, he didn’t know what kind of reaction he was expecting from them. All of the negativity that was brought upon them from early childhood had clouded his judgment on how they would respond to such dramatic news. He had kept it a secret from them for about three years as a result of the anxiety, already having trouble coming to terms with his new self-discovery. Alas, two years ago, when he had gathered up all of his courage and sat his brothers down to explain in grave detail what was going on inside of his head, they were nothing but supportive.

It was an adjustment at first, with Dean having the hardest time with getting pronouns correct and slipping up on the name change, but (Y/N) could tell that he was doing his best, and that was all that mattered. He got better after a couple of months and had abandoned (Y/N)’s deadname and old pronouns completely in favor of his newly updated ones. (Y/N) could tell that Dean was proud of himself, and he was proud of him too. Sam, being the nerd that he is, wanted to learn more about transgenderism. He would ask his brother questions and scour the endless medical journals available online if (Y/N) couldn’t answer the ones that he had. He even went as far as to help (Y/N) find the perfect binder and get him set up with an appointment to start testosterone. Thanks to Sam, (Y/N) had been on testosterone for almost a year-and-a-half.

With the use of testosterone came changes, changes that he wasn’t necessarily expecting. He was constantly starving, constantly horny, and hair was growing everywhere on his body. Everywhere. Even though he didn’t mind the hair growth in some places, one place that the hair seemed to be lacking in growth was on his face, the place where he had wanted it to grow the most. He had a couple of scraggly pieces here and there, most of the hair growth being on his sideburns and underneath his chin, none of the patches consistent in length. Still, every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t help but smile. He had finally started to feel like his true self. Like he was starting to morph into the person he was destined to be.

And he couldn’t be happier.

(Y/N) emerged from the poorly lit motel bathroom, combing the sides of his hair with his fingertips. Sam and Dean stood in the center of the room, clad in their mock FBI uniforms. When they heard (Y/N) exit the bathroom, they turned their attention to him. It was the first time that he felt confident enough to dress as an agent on a case, and he was a little uncertain about his appearance. He wanted to make sure he looked professional enough to pass. It was a big change compared to when he only had to wear a blouse and pencil skirt. He didn’t miss those days.

With his arms held out in a grandiose gesture, he gave a small smile. “What do you think? Do I look okay?” He asked with a tone that indicated his uncertainty.

Sam and Dean eyed him, their gaze scanning from the top of his head to his shoes. Sam nodded.

“Yeah, you look great,” he commented, a smirk curled up in the corner of his lips.

Dean, on the other hand, furrowed his brows. “You look like a douchebag.”

Sam slapped Dean’s shoulder. “Dude,” he hissed.

“What?” He held his hands up.

(Y/N) frowned and looked down at himself. “Why do I look like a douchebag?” He asked, his shoulders slouched to show his disappointment.

“You don’t look like a douchebag,” Sam shook his head rapidly.

“Yes, he does! It’s because of that little neck beard you have going on.” Dean gestured to his face.

(Y/N) slowly ran his fingers through the hair under his chin, neck, and sides of his face. “What’s wrong with my facial hair?” His voice was quiet.

“(Y/N), don’t listen to him, there is nothing wrong-” Sam began.

“Sam,” Dean interrupted before looking back at (Y/N). “Look, FBI agents need to be clean to make it more believable. You look like a kid who just got out of a nightlong session playing that…that…War of Worlds or whatever.”

“World of Warcraft?” (Y/N) arched a brow.

“Yeah, that. You gotta shave it.”

“I don’t know how,”

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Sam was quick to interrupt. He was sending Dean the deadliest of glares. “Dean, we don’t have time for him to do that. He looks great. He doesn’t need to change anything. Let’s just go, and, if it makes you feel any better, we can say he’s a rookie.”

Dean sighed. “Fine.” He mumbled before he turned back to (Y/N). “But when we get back, I’ll show you have to shave properly.”

“Okay,” (Y/N) nodded.

Dean and Sam then turned and made their way out of the motel. (Y/N) stopped for a moment and returned a hand to his face. He felt the patches of long hair caress his fingertips while the patches of stubble made his hand itch. He scowled.

“I’m not a rookie,” he mumbled to himself before he followed after his brothers.

“Alright,” Dean grumbled as he pushed the stopper into the sink. He proceeded to fill the basin up with warm water. “Now, one thing that you need to know is that you never, under any circumstances, share razors. Lucky for you, I packed a spare one.” He smiled as he pulled a new razor out of his pocket, handing it off to (Y/N).

(Y/N) glanced down at the razor. It was one of the cheap ones. One that you would find in a pack of ten or fifteen in a Walmart. The plastic was still hooked onto the side of the blade. (Y/N) took off the plastic bit and tossed it into the small trashcan in the corner of the room.

“What happens if you share razors?” (Y/N) asked.

“You can get an infection. You don’t know how clean someone else’s face is, and if you nick yourself, then you’ll be in a lot of pain. Trust me, Sammy and I learned a lot about that when we were younger.” He chuckled. “Okay, the first thing you want to do is get your face wet.”

Dean set his razor to the side and dipped his hands into the warm water. He leaned his head downward, brought his cupped hand up to his face, and wet his jaw. When he pulled his hand away, droplets fell into the sink below. He then looked at (Y/N), who raised his brows before he followed suit. He dipped his hands into the water, lowered his head, and brought some water to his face. His facial hair clung to his jawline as water dripped from his chin.

“Right, what I like to do now,” Dean reached down and picked up his razor. He looked in the mirror and tilted his head to the side so that he could fully see the right side of his face. “Is…make a mark on both of my sideburns where the hair meets the face.”

Dean reached the razor up and cut a small portion of his stubble near the hairline. It was only about an inch or two worth of hair. When he was done with the right side, he turned his head and did the same for the left side. He rinsed the razor in the water.

“You got it?” He raised a brow.

(Y/N) looked at himself in the mirror, turning his head from side to side. He furrowed his brows and hesitantly reached his razor up. He stopped before the razor could touch his face. “Where do I cut?” He asked timidly.

Dean sat his razor down and turned to his brother. He looked in the mirror, into his eyes, before he looked back at the side of his head. “You’re gonna wanna cut right…” he trailed as he reached up and ran his finger along the side of his face, about a third of the way down his ear. “Here.”

(Y/N) reached his hand up and allowed the razor to levitate above the spot Dean had pointed. “Here?”

“Yeah, right there. And don’t be shy about it. You’ve got this.”

(Y/N) glanced at Dean before giving a small nod. He then turned and looked in the mirror. He brought the razor to his face and made a small mark on his sideburns, the same as Dean had done with his. Once he was done with the first mark, he looked at his brother. Dean smiled softly at him, confirming that he had done it correctly. (Y/N) then tilted his head to the other side, repeating the process. When he was done, he rinsed his razor, just like Dean had, and looked towards him expectedly.

“Good, good,” Dean nodded before he reached over to the corner of the sink. He picked up a can of shaving cream, popped the top off, and sprayed a dollop into his hands. He held out the can towards (Y/N), who held out one hand for him. Dean sprayed some of the shaving cream into his hand before he set it on the counter and placed the cap back on. “Now, you want to make sure to cover every part of your face where the hair grows. Just watch and do what I do.”

(Y/N) gave a small nod and watched as Dean began to apply the shaving cream onto his face, starting with his right cheek before moving down his jawline and to the other. (Y/N) followed his movements exactly. The shaving cream felt different against his face, it was wet and cold, yet soft at the same time. He remembered times at the end of some school years, when he was younger, when the teacher would give them shaving cream on their desks to help clean the surfaces. He remembered drawing faces in the shaving cream, pictures of cartoon ghosts and cats. They proceeded to apply the shaving cream over their cupid’s bows, onto their chins, and their necks. When Dean was done, he rinsed his hand in the water, (Y/N) followed.

“Alright, the moment of truth,” Dean smiled at him as he picked up his razor. “We’ll start with the face and then make our way down to the neck. Just follow my lead, okay? I’ll go slow.”

“Okay,” (Y/N) nodded and picked up his razor.

Both of them turned to face the mirror. (Y/N) stared at his reflection for a moment, a part of him noting how humorous he looked with the beard of shaving cream before his eyes shifted over to Dean. As Dean began to shave his face, (Y/N) copied his movements. Every time Dean rinsed his razor in the sink, (Y/N) did as well. Everywhere Dean put his razor, (Y/N) put his.

It was a strange sensation, shaving. Since it was his first time, (Y/N) didn’t know how he felt about it. From the curl of his lip when he had to shave his cupid’s bow and chin, to the feeling of the shaving cream slowly running down his neck. It was new, but not disliked. It was easy enough, easier since he was following the live tutorial next to him. He couldn’t help but let his mind wander, though. Let his mind think back to the times when he was younger and watching from some random bathroom doorframe as Dean taught Sam to shave for the first time. Dean held the same expressions on his face back then when he taught Sam as now. A sort of proud, grown expression, giving (Y/N) the first taste of realization that Dean was the one who raised them, not their father. Fathers were supposed to teach their sons how to shave their faces for the first time, not the older brothers. It was almost as if Dean adapted the fatherly role in (Y/N) and Sam’s lives. (Y/N) would never forget that.

(Y/N) hissed. “Dammit,” he mumbled as he pulled the razor away from his face.

He looked in the mirror and could see a small, red circle appear on his left cheek. It had been the last strip of facial hair left. He had been doing so well up until then.

Dean’s head turned towards him before he let out a chuckle. He placed his razor down on the sink and leaned down to snag a small piece of cheap toilet paper. He moved over to his brother and tilted his head so that he could see the nick. Gingerly, he placed the piece of toilet paper onto the red mark. It stuck instantly to (Y/N)’s face.

“There we go,” Dean smirked and turned back to the sink. “Not bad on the face. One nick is pretty good for your first time. Now, onto the neck.”

(Y/N) did the same for his neck as he had done for his face, glancing in the mirror at his reflection while, now and then, turning to study his brother’s movements. He shaved his neck without incident, and when he rinsed his razor for the last time in the basin, the water now clouded with a mixture of hair and shaving cream, he felt a sense of accomplishment. He felt proud of himself. When Dean set his razor down, so did (Y/N). They looked at their reflections and examined themselves.

“And you're done,” Dean nodded. “All we have to do is rinse our faces,” Dean reached over, turned on the warm water from the tap, and cupped his hands to rinse off the rest of the shaving cream. Once Dean was finished, (Y/N) copied. “And we’re done.” Dean smiled at (Y/N) in the mirror.

When (Y/N) looked at his freshly shaven face, he ran his fingers over the places where the hair had been. The skin was smooth, something that he was going to have to get used to again, and he looked younger, in his opinion. The corner of his lips curled downwards in a frown.

“I look like a baby,” he mumbled.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “No, you don’t. You look like a new man. Hey, facial hair grows back fast, and it’ll grow back a little more even this time. If you wanna keep it, I can show you how to shave around it when it does, to keep you looking clean and not like some homeless guy.”

“Really?” (Y/N) raised his brows.

“Of course. As long as you promise not to grow out a lumberjack beard or anything,” Dean dramatically shivered.

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “No promises,” he chuckled.

“Oh!” Dean exclaimed. “Almost forgot. Aftershave!”

“Aftershave?”

“Yeah,” Dean reached over to the bottle that sat next to the shaving cream can. It was a small, green bottle of Brut. He splashed some into the palm of his hand before he put some in (Y/N)’s. He placed the bottle onto the counter and capped it. “It helps with those stupid razor burns and bumps.”

(Y/N) nodded as he looked down at the liquid in his hand. The scent was strong, and he recognized it as something Dean smelled of often. He, once again, copied Dean’s movements as Dean began to massage the liquid into his face and onto his neck. When (Y/N) massaged it onto his left cheek, he felt his skin begin to burn when it ran into the small nick on his face. Dean smirked.

“Burns, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, why the hell does it burn?”

Dean shrugged. “Not too sure. You’ll get used to it. And once you stop cutting yourself while shaving, it won’t burn as bad.”

(Y/N) grimaced and continued to rub it in until all he could smell was the Brut and his entire face had been covered. Dean lowered his hands and unplugged the sink. The clouded water began to drain.

“There, now we’re officially done. What do you think?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Not bad. I could get used to it, but I look stupid with this tissue on my face.”

“Oh, here,” Dean reached over and carefully took the wet paper off of his cut. “See? It’s like you didn’t even cut yourself.”

“Wow…” (Y/N) turned his face back and forth, examining the spots where the hair used to be.

“Now you can shave by yourself whenever you want. We just need to get you your own razors, and I can show you how to use an electric one when we get back to the bunker if you want.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest, his smile never faltering.

An identical smile made its way onto (Y/N)’s lips as he looked over at Dean. “Thanks, Dean. You’re a great big brother,” he spoke quietly.

Dean tilted his head down, narrowing his eyes. “What was that?”

“I said ‘You’re a great big brother’.” He spoke a little louder that time.

“Come again?” Dean cupped one of his hands behind his ear.

“You’re pushing it, Dean.”

“Alright, alright.” Dean laughed as he reached over and wrapped an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders. (Y/N) placed his arms around Dean’s torso and hugged him tightly. “For the record, you’re the best little brother a guy could ask for. Just don’t tell Sam.”

(Y/N) smiled even wider. “I won’t.”

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