#also didn't mean for us to always be on the same side of the frame but thats how it ending up working out

[hidinginthemountains]

The Captain and her First Mate.

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[ireneispunk]

Teach Me

Aemond Targaryen x female reader smut (Rhaenyra & Harwin Laenor Velaryon's daughter)

After your family gathers in King's Landing for Maelor's name day celebrations, tensions build between in more ways than expected. A lesson in High Valryian from your uncle Aemond causes a mutual infatuation to bubble over.

w.c: 9,398 (i know)

c.w: SMUT 18+ , targcest (uncle & niece), NO use of Y/N, oral (m & f receiving), afab reader, foreplay, unprotected p in v sex, the slowest of slowburns to ever exist, mild aemond angst, but also kinda soft aemond(?), fluff to finish ofc, small implied age gap, reader is briefly mentioned to have Srong features, pet names (in high valyrian), use of High Valyrian all translations in text as it is spoken (E.G "Rytsa Skorkydoso glaesā?" (Hi how are you?)) (i didn't translate these everytime bc i used them a lot so: mandianna = niece (child of your older sister), iāpa = uncle), pls let me know if i've missed any

a.n: so this came from a post i did the other day, and @sinistersnakey9419 gave me the idea for this fic and it had me giggling and kicking my feet fr. also, this took me like a week to write because i kept adding more plot teehee.

dividers: @saradika ♡

It was a week into your families stay at King’s Landing. The Red Keep was a familiar place, but it was no Dragonstone. Your Grandsire, King Viserys, had made it his wish of his for his family to be together to celebrate Maelor’s name day which was to be a multiple day affair. And he meant all of his family, regardless of the fabricated tensions that divided you. As Rhaenyra’s second eldest and only surviving daughter, you felt an unspoken pressure to help maintain the peace between the brothers of the family. One side couldn’t help but torment whilst the other was quick to defend his family by any means. You missed being back on Dragonstone, but this was an exciting place to be. Days were filled with activities befitting of a young lady, and you enjoyed spending time with your Aunt Helaena – both of you appreciated a sisterly figure from within each other. There was one presence you couldn’t quite understand. Aemond. Your uncle had watched you closely since you first arrived, it had been a time since you had both seen each other. He had grown into a very tall and incredibly handsome man; he was more pleasing to the eye than he should be. His large frame and equanimous demeanour loomed over you, even from the other side of a room. His gaze stuck upon you like a hound tracking game. You couldn’t help but assume, like most other members of his side of the family, he held nothing but judgemental distain for you and your brown-haired brothers.

The mornings were always the same, Viserys had wished for you all to break your fast together daily. That had started to dwindle until the King had heard of it and demanded you eat together regardless of his presence. It was going about as well as it had the past week, Aegon’s head in a cup, Alicent on edge at every second.

“The maesters have been helping us with our Valyrian.” Spouted Lucerys, he was sweet, too sweet and sensed a smog of tension over the room. Rhaenyra smiled, appreciating your brother’s attempt.

“Let us hear it then.” Daemon announced leaning back in his seat.

“Rēbagon se gerpa kostilus.” (Pass the fruit please). Lucerys seemed impressed with his statement, Daemon seems confused for a moment before leaning forward and sliding the dish of grapes over towards Luke. A short scoff was heard from across the table, Aemond sat casually, smirk laden on his lips.

“Something the matter, Uncle?” Jacaerys spoke through slight gritted teeth. Aemond raised a hand in a defensive motion, smile still playing at his lips.

“What my brother wants to say,” Aegon peeled his face up from the tablecloth and took a swig of whatever was in his cup at this hour, “Is that your ‘High Valyrian’ sounded more like Old Ghiscari.” Lucerys smile faded as he looked to your mother for reassurance. You sighed, looking down at you half-finished plate as yet another verbal disagreement erupted between the men in your life. You rose to your feet with more haste than you anticipated causing your chair to wobble and crash onto the stone floor behind you. The room fell silent, and you felt everyone’s eyes burning into your skin.

Your gaze remained vacant, lingering on the table, “May I please be excused.” You were embarrassed: of your outburst, your family’s inability to get along, your uncles’ comments. Mostly due to the fact they were right, Lucerys’ nor Jacaerys High Valyrian was perfect, and it just added to the rumours that spread about your family. Your mother had barely spoke an ‘of course’ before you took your leave, nails digging crescents into your palms.

Leaves rustled beneath your feet as you paced the grass of the Godswood, it was always a small sanctuary of peace for it’s quiet and empty nature. You closed your eyes and let the sun beam down on your face, if you imagined hard enough you could feel the cold breeze from your balcony at Dragonstone. A harsh snapping of a twig pulled you from your thoughts, your head shooting up towards the direction of the disturbance. Aemond stood a few paces away from you, palm raised in a surrendering motion. You released a breath you had been holding onto, bringing your hands together to fiddle with the clasp of your bracelet. “I did not mean to startle you, Mandianna,” He took a stride closer towards you, hands clasped behind his back. “You caused quite a scene. For a princess.” Your eyes stayed fixated on the ground beneath the two of you. This was the first time you had ever been alone with Aemond, and he was being agreeable? It was hard to deny how beautiful he was, even just from the stolen glances towards him. You knew about sex, parts of what it entailed. From a few detailed paintings to the small snippets you overheard from the younger handmaidens. You hadn’t spent an awful lot of time thinking about it apart from when conversations of finding you a match came around. That was until this week, something about being around Aemond meant fighting away thoughts of him a regular occurrence.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you picked up your chin to meet Aemond’s stare. It was softer, and more inquisitive than his usual piercing gaze. Your stomach dropped as thoughts of him bending you over and fucking you right here in the Godswood clouded your mind, how his hands would feel over your body, his tongue across your neck and between your thighs, how it would feel him sliding – “Keli jiōraton aōha ēngos byka genes?” (Cat got your tongue little mouse?). You felt heat rising towards cheeks and across your chest as you tried to mask your raised heart rate. You were pretty sure Aemond couldn’t read your thoughts, but the small smile that played at his lips made you feel otherwise. Something about your close proximity, the way you could make out each detail of his face, and his intoxicating smell had muzzled you. Lips parted to respond but nothing came out. You felt helpless in the best way possible. “A Velaryon princess who can’t hold a High Valyrian conversation, you disappoint me Mandianna.” Aemond turned on his heel, briskly walking towards the wood’s exit.

Maybe it was the need to please, the burning between your thighs, or the fact he was no longer facing you, but the words escaped your lips before you could even process what you had said, “Teach me.” The small wave of confidence dwindled when he turned his head back to face you.

“Teach you?”

“Teach me what you think I should know, Iāpa.” You didn’t know how he would respond, nor did you know how you wished for him to respond. Aemond raised a brow and smiled to himself, your small use of High Valyrian and how your statement could be interpreted in many different made him intrigued to see where this would lead.

“Tomorrow evening, after supper. Meet me in the library’s reading room.” Without needing a response, he once again made his way out of the wood, leaving you flustered and equally excited, yet dread filled.

As supper slowly began to drew to a close, your excitement manifested in a small bobbing of your leg. Actual conversation rang out between small groups on the table, Lucerys and Helaena had included you in there’s but all you could focus on was keeping your thoughts clear. Everything about Aemond drew you further in his lips softly against his cup, the way his index and middle finger tapped along to the quiet music that had been played, but most of all the way he would catch you watching with a satisfied smile. You partially walked back to your chambers, before feigning forgetting a ring behind at the table, and insisting to your mother and Daemon that it couldn’t wait until morning. Part of you wondered if you shouldn’t have lied, there was a simple explanation: getting lessons in High Valyrian from your uncle Aemond. Except this would not go over well with your immediate family. For you could hold a conversation in High Valyrian, it was Aemond you couldn’t speak to specifically. You were actually quite proficient in High Valyrian, not as much as you’d hoped to be but a whole lot better than your brothers. Whether it was common tongue or Valyrian Aemond rendered you speechless, and now you were willingly walking into a situation where he had complete control. You knew for certain how much you longed for him, but other than glances you couldn’t figure out what he truly felt. Part of you wanted to be under him at every moment possible but if he didn’t feel the same, if his glances were all a trick, you’d be ruined.

After stepping through the library, you took one final breath before opening the heavy oak door to the reading room. It pushed open with a small creak to reveal Aemond sat at the desk, tattered book in hand. “I thought you might’ve gotten cold feet,” he closed the book and softly placed it on the table, “Come take a seat.” He arose, pulling the wooden chair beside him out from the table, allowing you to sit down. You nodded your head slightly before taking a seat, smoothing out any creases in your dress. Taking a moment to examine the reading room in the dark, you noticed the two brass cups and a wine jug, along with numerous High Valyrian scriptures and books with plain parchment and a fresh quill. Aemond himself was wearing his usual attire, except his black coat had been unbuckled a few straps, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed, eyeing the wine. Everything seemed real of a sudden. You weren’t used to drinking wine, especially alone at night. Sensing your nervousness, Aemond picked up a cup and placed it in front of you, “Just because it is my drink of choice for the evening,” he poured a small amount into his own cup, “Doesn’t mean I expect you to partake, Mandianna.” You paused for a moment before shaking your head ‘no’ and sliding your cup away. “Very well, read this out for me, I want to hear what you can do already.” He relished in how you squirmed when he was close to you. You looked down at the papers in front of you, ‘Aegon the Conqueror, The High Valyrian Scriptures’. You knew all about Aegon the Dragon, but the words escaped you as Aemond stood behind you, left hand atop your chair, right hand holding up his weight on the table. You felt a few strands of his long hair tickle your shoulder, the closeness of him made you feel as if you could burst. “Go on then, read it.” He said, almost a whisper. His lips were so close yet still too far, you could feel the warmth of his breath when he spoke but not the softness of his lips on your skin. This is the type of torture that scribes should mention.

“Aegon I Targaryen iksin se ēlī āeksio hen sīkuda Dārȳti se-“ (Aegon I Targaryen was the first Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and-). You paused as Aemond moved from behind you to stand beside the table.

“I didn’t say stop.” His firm tone excited you more than you wanted it to.

“se dārys va se Dēmalion Āegenko.” (and king on the Iron Throne). You continued, looking up to Aemond for approval. He nodded before gathering up the papers from in front of you and holding them in his hands. Puzzled, you turned to face him “But-“

“Too easy, you know how the story goes, tell it to me in High Valyrian.” Aemond looked pleased with himself as he sat back into his own chair that now faced yours.

You looked down at the floor for a moment, before continuing “Ziry kithsair bȳre hen sīkuda Dārȳti se-ziry se-“ (He conquered six of the seven kingdoms and-he a-nd-). Yet again, your words escaped your lips as Aemond’s gaze wandered over your body, free to visually devour your form now you were not in the company of others.

He inhaled sharply and rose to his feet, “Valyrio Eglie iksis iā kostōba udrir, se ēdruta sagon spoken hae mēre.  Aōha udra issi nākostōbā, ao ȳdragon tolī rāpa. Eman daor drīve geptot naejot dohaeragon ao byka genes.” (High Valyrian is a powerful language and must be spoken as one. Your words are weak, you speak too softly. I cannot help you little mouse.) His words came at you fast and rather harshly, you hated the effect he had on you, and you hated how he judged you for it. You searched his face for something more, surely all of this was not over, the yearning looks, the candlelight, the wine, did it not mean something more? As your mind raced you looked towards the floor and wished it would envelop you. Aemond sighed, and placed the scriptures that you had read from under your chin and used them to lift you face up towards his. Your brows furrowed slightly as you looked up at him standing over you. “You don’t understand do you Mandianna,” He chuckled softly, tilting you head to his will. “Nyke would qogralbar ao ēva ao could gaomagon daorun yn ilagon isse ñuha baer mirre tubis byka genes.” (I would fuck you until you could do nothing but lay in my bed all day little mouse.) He dropped the scriptures onto the table, taking his leave with such haste that you felt he air pass by through your hair. Once his footsteps dissipated you felt as your jaw went slack. The wetness grew between your legs as you squeezed your thighs together, attempting to relieve some of the mounding pressure.

Your heart thudded in your chest like a drum, you swiftly shut the door to your chambers and tried to steady your shaky breathing. After shedding yourself of your dress you made your way to the vanity and undid your hairstyle of the day. As your fingers worked between your hair you imagined Aemond’s large hands making their way through it, your fingers delicately glided across the crook of your neck before resting upon the warmth of your chest. If Aemond wanted to play games then you would gladly oblige, except this time you knew he wanted to play.

Your reading was interrupted by the ever-persistent King’s Landing ladies in waiting, you’d usually grumble except it was the first day of Maelor’s name day celebrations and you were taught the importance of good first impressions. Today would be important as Lords and Ladies of every great house would be there and you were yet to find a betrothed who was approved by the heir to the iron throne, your brothers, and Daemon, who once sent a young lord away teary eyed with embarrassment. You smiled to yourself as the ladies working on you bickered between what way to style your hair for the occasion. “What about something mostly up, with a few small braids, and the red gem hairpins? I think that’ll match the dress I picked out for tonight.” They glanced between each other, smiled, and got to work on your dark hair. Part of you was filled with excitement, it had been a while since you had an excuse to dress up, and it was even more thrilling at the thought of catching Aemond’s attention over all the other Ladies present. As the late afternoon rolled around you were finally considered presentable to the guests in the great hall. You eyed your reflection, your hair lifted to expose your neck and clavicle, dark fabric fitted to your shape with delicate blood red beading sewn into the neckline and down the sleeves finished with your gold jewellery pieces. Just as the ladies were about to leave you had an idea, “Wait! Do you have any of the rose perfume oil?” You spoke with a smile. A few knowing glances were shared between the two eldest ladies as a younger one brought over the small crystal bottle before dabbing a small amount on each wrist and on either side of your neck.

The rest of your family waited beside the towering doors of the great hall, “Finally, I thought we’d all starve.” Joffrey spouted with a huff earning a short laugh from Lucerys, a half shove from Jacaerys and a raised brow from Daemon. Your mother waved them off and placed her hands either side of your upper arms, “What a beautiful young woman you have become, my sweet child.” Rhaenyra looked upon you with great admiration as always. You smiled and squeezed her hand as you all stood together as the doors were slowly pulled open. You could feel your heart beating in your ears as the chittering in the room slowly dissipated and all heads turned to face you all. You bore a brave face following after your parent’s movements down the steps and towards the King’s table. After greeting the king, you were all seated, the family had grown rather exponentially since Rhaenyra’s wedding to your father Laenor which you had heard many stories about. You sat towards the outer curve to one side of the table, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Aemond, already watching you. So not to give him the pleasure of your gaze, you made conversations with your family next to you.

A short clearing of a throat pulled you from your conversation with Jacaerys, “I am Jorick Lannister, your graces,” He bowed his head towards you, “I was wondering if I may have the honour to ask the Princess to a dance?” He flashed his best smile at you.

You looked expectantly to your mother and Daemon, “If you wish to, then go dance.” Rhaenyra grinned, she gently touched her own elbow against Daemon’s, and he muttered something about there ‘being worse choices in the room’. You stood up from your seat, perhaps a bit too eagerly and walked around to the side of the table where the Lannister stood. He extended his hand, palm up towards you and lead you down the few steps to the crowd of dancers. You stood a pace apart and looked at the man in front of you, he was certainly handsome, dark blonde hair that waved towards the nape of his neck, gentle grey eyes. As you looked into them something caught your eye behind them. Aemond was alert, not sat in his usual laid-back posture with his cup resting in his hand on the arm of his chair. He was sat forward, stiff as a statue and boring daggers into the back of your dance partner. You swallowed as you saw the grip he had around his cup; it was solid metal but from the look on his face alone it could crumble. The music swelled as Jorick took your hand in his and placed his other upon your waist.

As you both moved across the floor, he leaned in to speak to you “How are you enjoying the capital princess.” Jorick spoke above the music.

“There’s a certain beauty to it, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss Dragonstone.” You spoke with truth.

Jorick chuckled, “Ah yes, it is the perfect home for a dragon. I do believe you would grow to like Catserly Rock your grace. It’s no island but the coastline is just as harsh, I miss the sound of it when I try to sleep somewhere new.”

You heartily laughed at his statement as he twirled you in a circle. “I have said that ever since we got here! But no one else seems to understand it.” While he laughed and agreed in return.

Meanwhile at the King’s table, Aemond’s jealousy bubbled harshly. Already did he have a hard time resisting taking you into his arms and treating you as you deserved, but watching another man, a Lannister at that, hold you the way he wanted to, enraged him. He counted the guards in the room to simmer his anger, but then imagined fighting them off as he cut down every person between you and him and taking you into an embrace. He was completely and utterly enamoured with you, ever since he watched you climb off of your dragon from a tower of the Red Keep. Gone had the child he knew as a babe himself and was now replaced with a woman who plagued his thoughts. Your darker hair that framed your face, eyes that crinkled when you laughed and held so much emotion, the way you smile brought him an unmanageable amount of joy. He couldn’t hate you, no matter if he tried. At this moment, he wished for it to be simple. That he wasn’t your mother’s brother, that he was just a Lord of some other house, dancing with you and holding you close. A world in which he could have you, touch you, without bearing the reprehensible disappointment of his mother or the feeling of his heart being crushed right in front of him. He had once and for all had enough after the 6th eager meek had hovered around you after each song had finished to ask for your hand. Aemond rose to his feet and made his way to you on the floor with large strides dipping in between the guests. Queen Alicent watched him with worry, he wasn’t known to dance or partake in many festivities like these.

You parted ways with your last dance partner and smiled as you were approached by yet another Lord, “My princess, I am Erich Baratheon and I would love the honour of-“ He started before being cut off by the sudden appearance of Aemond: he’d brushed past the suitor on his was to you, not harsh in any sense but it definitely took you both off guard.

The broad Baratheon was dwarfed by not only the Targaryen’s height, but his mere presence also. “Perhaps is it my turn for a dance, Mandianna.” The request seemed so lewd and intimate coming from him, despite it being what would otherwise be an innocent dance between family.

“I was just asking the Princess for a dance. Perhaps you may dance with her after?” The Baratheon mustered his bravest voice, a touch deeper than it had been a moment ago. Aemond’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he turned his head round and down with a rather dramatic tilt to amplify the inches between the pair. From this angle you could fully admire his jawline and neck. You imagined kissing across his sharp jawline, travelling down to his throat. At this moment you were so overcome with lust you imagine grazing your teeth against it and biting gently just to release some tension. After a very short stare off on the Baratheon’s end, “Perhaps not, uh- goodnight, Princess.” He had turned to walk away before even finishing his sentence, leaving you and Aemond face to face on the floor.

“That wasn’t very proper of you, uncle.” You spoke above a whisper, struggling to hold back a small laugh.

“Luckily it’s not so expected of me.” His face bore a small smile. An actual smile instead of a sly all-knowing smirk.

“I didn’t take you for a dancer either.”

“Well, someone had to put a stop to the herd of sheep begging to stomp on your feet all evening.” You couldn’t help but chuckle in agreement. Some of the Lords had been nice, decent dancers, with something to say. Others spent their time ogling your exposed skin or asking about your inheritance. You could not deny as conversations lulled between some of them, you imagined you were in the arms of Aemond instead. As the music began to swell, he offered you his hand which you gladly accepted whilst his other hand tentatively made its way to your upper waist. As he led the dance, he never looked away from you, it felt as if you were slowly melting into him. Able to ignore the few judgemental looks and quiet whispers from the people around you and just focussing on the man in front of you.

Back at the King’s table, your interaction had not gone unnoticed. Alicent’s worry had faded, she knew you had always been a sweet girl. She looked over to Rhaenyra who had already been watching her to gage a reaction and the two exchanged a small smile each. “Mother, are sister and Uncle Aemond going to get married?” Joffrey asked in matter-of-fact way, causing Rhaenyra to cough on the wine that she had sipped whilst Daemon chuckled and ruffled his dark curls.

You’d made a mental note to thank the gods for the current song choice, a slower one. Your hands flush together as the two of you rotated and eyes never leaving each other’s. As the end of the song drew close Aemond’s body moved behind you, left hand upon your waist and right taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers. The latter part was not a usual for this particular dance. Your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel the strength of his torso behind you. “You know uncle, I have been wanting more lessons in High Valyrian, I think a few more and we could really make some progress.” It wasn’t 100% a lie, Aemond definitely could teach you some High Valyrian, but it was mostly an excuse to be in private with him again.

“Really? Because you did so well last time?” You could practically feel the smirk on his face from behind you. “I know you can ask a lot nicer than that Mandianna.” You shuddered softly at the sensation of his voice so quiet, whispering into your ear. The music pace picked up as you glided across the floor, heart beating within your ears. As the instruments came to a halt, you felt a sense of weightlessness as Aemond dipped you and held you there, so low to the ground you felt the ends of your hair touch against it. You eyed him, brows raised and chest rising and falling, feeling fully in his hands.

“Kostilus, Aemond.” (Please, Aemond) The words left your lips in a soft way that travelled straight down his spine. You could not identify the emotion that swept his face as he swiftly brought you to your feet and ripped his hands from yours. His eyes shut briefly, his hands flexing into tight fist, you were not sure what had happened. As you reached out for his hand he stepped back and kept his eyes to the ground before making his way to the exit of the great hall. You called out to him softly, but he soon disappeared in between the crowds.

Confused and a little hurt, you made your way back to your seat and looked at the remainder of your meal that had surely gone cold. You felt your mother’s hand rest upon yours, and you looked to her and smiled weakly. “Where did your uncle go sweet girl?” She spoke softly and quietly, as to avoid bringing your brothers into it.

“He mentioned that he had to go for something.” Your lie wouldn’t have fooled a stranger, let alone your own mother, but she did not pry. She gave your hand a small squeeze and gave you the mother’s look of ‘I’m here if you need me’.

Aemond briskly made his way down the corridors of the Red Keep. His hands met the roughened wooden doors to a balcony as he pushed them open and felt the chill of the night air cover him. It was not enough as he felt is blood burn hot, coursing through his veins and the sight of you in his arms. Your hair cascading down past you, exposing your neck, the way your breasts filled out your corset and raised with your breathing. That damned perfume you wore and how it mixed with your scent had been a drug to him this night. Your eyes that stared up at him like a doe and looked at him like he was a god. He couldn’t help but remember your soft plump lips, the way they parted slightly when he looked your way, how you bit your lip whilst saddling your dragon and worst of all: how deliciously his name sounded coming out of them. He had not yet heard you say his name, but it being paired with such a submissive plead made it all the more torturous. He slowly breathed through his nose; head tilted back resting on the bricks. Aemond was too infatuated with you to ever hate your effect on him. His frustrations only grew greater the more he knew you. He was at a grand dinner, filled with every food and treat he could ever imagine, yet all he wished to taste was between your legs. He decided then and there on that balcony that his affections for you must go. ‘It should not be so painful’ He thought to himself, after all, you only had a few short days left in the capital.

The following day started even earlier, with the second day of the celebrations taking place in the gardens. You yawned into the palm of your hand and watched as the front side pieces of your hair were brought back and weaved into a delicate braid. “You mustn’t stay up so late princess!” The handmaiden fretted as she pulled out the dress you had chosen yesterday. You eyed it, before glancing towards the window to see the sun breaking out through the clouds, giving you an idea.

“It looks like it could really warm up in the garden under the sun, I was thinking of wearing this dress instead.” You lifted the dark berry coloured dress up in front of your handmaidens.

“I think you may get cold your grace.” One of the younger handmaidens spoke eyeing the dress, after a harsh glare from the eldest maiden she continued, “But you will look perfect no matter what!” She clarified with a nervous chuckle. You smiled at her in reassurance and allowed the cluster of ladies to dress you. Once they had finished arguing over minor details you stood back to look at your reflection. This was a dress you had never worn before, meant for particularly warm weather. It was an off the shoulder cut, that capped your upper arms with a tie. The dark coloured material was thinner than your regular dresses and the skirt flowed with any movement you made. After trying to sound as nonchalant as possible you once again asked for the rose perfume oil. After a few dots were dabbed on your wrists and neck, you thanked your ladies and placed the delicate bottle on the vanity. Once they had filed out you reapplied a few extra drops to your skin before dropping a small amount onto your fingertips and ran it through the ends of your hair. You looked beautiful, and hoped this would gain Aemond’s affections once more.

The garden party was a success from the get-go. Conversations bubbled, drinks were poured, and the food spread was something to marvel at. You were walking through the flowerbeds, arms linked with Baela, both of your laughs travelling from reminiscing on moments from your shared childhoods. “I heard you and Aemond caused quite the stir last night.” Baela giggled, nudging her elbow into yours.

“Word does travel fast in the capital,” You laughed. “And it was not a shared commotion, he was the one who left in a rush after we danced!” You reasoned with her; slight frustration apparent in your tone.

“And what a dance it appears to have been, they’d be able to smell you from Pentos.” You frowned slightly, wondering if you had overdone it today. She turned to face you, placing her hand over yours. “I jest of course, anyone would be lucky to catch your eye.” Baela’s smile was genuine and reassured your worries. You looked around the crowds of people once more, eyes fleeting from face to face. “He’s still not arrived yet.” Your eyes met hers once again as you both burst into loud laughter.

After much convincing from Alicent and a more silent encouragement from approach from Helaena, Aemond was finally making an appearance at the garden party. He thought to himself ‘What could a child so young possibly want with such celebrations?’ He justified his annoyance for his affections for you by dismissing the whole day, but being Maelor’s uncle he was expected to be there at some point. He was mere seconds into his arrival at the party before he overheard a distinct sound that made his heart sting. The familiar song of your laughter rang out from across the gardens. Every fibre of his being urged him to look for you, just to turn his head and see your face once more. Against all odds he kept his eyes trained on the floor and made his way to a quieter corner of the event in an attempt to go against his instincts and hide from you. He stood with his cup, fingers tracing across the details, a few feet away from the largely untouched array of desserts.

You grew frustrated as you looked around once more for your uncle’s presence. “Drink this, it’ll relax your nerves.” Baela handed you a cup with a dark red liquid in the bottom of it. “I know, wine isn’t for you, but this one is sweet! I think you’ll like it.” You nodded and took a sip, there was a slight burn as you swallowed it, but the fruity taste overtook it, and you nodded in agreement with her. As Baela and Jacaerys began talking intently you decided to have a look the foods on offer. You took another sip of your wine, the sweetness made you crave the sugared fruits the cooks always put out after dinner. After glancing over each table filled with every animal you could think of, cooked in every way. Your eyes made contact with a cake that was almost the size of you. Peering round the corner of the tent your eyes spotted something even more tempting. Aemond stood to himself, brows furrowed and finger lightly tapping against his cup in slight sync with the distant music that played.

“Uncle! I thought you were not going to make an appearance.” You tried to hide your excitement as you stepped into the tent and faced him. He seemed taken aback by the sudden presence of someone. His gaze shot up from the floor and lingered on your body, fleeting from your face to the way your dress fitted your figure. Just as he thought he’d mustered the strength to speak a light breeze rustled through the gardens and cascaded through your hair. ‘That damned floral perfume’ he thought to himself as he tried to hold his composure. After taking in her appearance once more, he noticed something unusual.

“I didn’t think you to be a wine drinker.” He spoke to you, his jaw clenched stiff.

You giggled slightly, “Me neither! But this one is Dornish, it’s a lot sweeter.” You took a step closer to him and held up your cup to him. “Would you like to taste?” You looked up at him through your lashes.

‘Yes’, He thought. “No.” He answered bluntly, “Thank you, no thank you.” His Adams apple bobbed in his throat as he answered, and you tilted your head slightly.

“Well, there’s plenty if you change your mind.” You smiled at him and turned towards the desserts table, various cakes, fruit pies, candied treats, decorated the large table.

You placed your cup and traced your finger across the end of the table eyeing the selection, you spotted your favourite sugared fruits. “I love these!” You exclaimed as you made your way over to the selection: cherries, berries of all kinds, plums, and peaches. You selected one of the peach slices and looked towards Aemond to find him watching intently. You popped the slice in your mouth and closed your eyes and exhaled a small ‘mmm’. You eyed the remaining sugar on your thumb and index finger. You looked into Aemond’s eye and popped the tip of your finger into your mouth and sucked the crystals off and releasing your finger with a pop.  He muttered a short ‘gods’ to himself as he watched you round the table, another piece of fruit in hand. You faced him and held out the small piece of fruit. “You should taste it for yourself Aemond.” Something changed on his face, he looked down at you and slapped the fruit out of your hand and grabbed you by your wrist and led you out of the tent into the empty corridor nearby. “Uncle, Uncle!” You protested quietly once you were led far enough away to not be heard by guests.

“Let go,” you demanded, pushing his hand away. You eyed him as he turned away from you, breathing steadily, hands balled into fits. “Why have you dragged me out here?” You exclaimed in a hushed tone.

“Why have I?” He turned to face you, “Why have I?” He roared, stepping a pace towards you. Stepping backwards you felt the stone walls hit your shoulders. “It is you, you who has poisoned my thoughts ever since you got here, you who has made even existing in the same room as you arduous yet being away from you nearly impossible. You danced with every fool this side of The Narrow Sea and even then, you could not keep your eyes on them and not me. Calling me by my name. Now today-“, He furrowed his brows, remembering the sight of you in that tent. “Gods.” He whispered, running a hand over his face. “Do you really wish to torture me so?” He looked up at you, fragments of defeat washing over his face.

You pushed yourself away from the wall, taking a step towards him leaving an impossibly small gap between the two of you. “Nyke pendagon bisa iksin skoros ao jeldan hen nyke, Iāpa.” (I thought this was what you wanted from me, uncle.) His jaw remained tense, as slight confusion washed over him. You rose to the tips of your toes to whisper to him, “Hen aōha byka genes.” (From your little mouse.)

Without hesitation you felt his large hand cup the side of your face, his other snaking around your waist, the force of it pinning you towards the wall. His fingers brushed down your face, resting beneath your chin. His thumb tentatively ran across your bottom lip. Aemond leaned down to the side of your face, “Tell me to stop, tell me to stop and I will walk away.” His breath fanned over you; lips grazing against your neck. It took all of your efforts to not crumble beneath him.

“Ȳdra daor keligon.” (Don’t stop.) Your breath was shaky as Aemond brought his face to yours. You placed a hand against his chest and leaned up to kiss him before a rumble of distant laughter reminded you both of your current location.

He grabbed your hand from upon his chest and led you down the winding corridors of the Red Keep, your slippers tapping twice as fast on the floor to keep up with his long strides. As you both climbed the spiral staircase towards the chambers, voices rang out on the floor in front of you. Aemond brought you both to a halt, keeping his back against the wall and pulled your back towards him to avoid detection. “Why did we st-“ You started before feeling his large hand covering your mouth. He whispered a small shush into your ear. A heat spread across you face feeling a large bulge in his trousers, just above your ass. Once the footsteps had completely disappeared, he climbed the rest of the stairs, hand still firmly gripping yours. His spare hand pushed open the heavy door with such urgency, crashed against the wall beside it. He pulled you into his chambers, almost pulling you off your feet before only breaking eye contact to close and lock the door behind him.

He stepped towards you, unbuckling his jacket from the top. “Tell me to stop.” He once again commanded.

“No.” You spoke so quietly you weren’t even sure it had left your lips, but Aemond had definitely heard it. He pulled you close, keeping your bodies flush and brought a hand to your hair, pulling you closer. Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his lips graze yours slightly before delving into a deep kiss. You struggled to keep up with his desperate pace at first, feeling overwhelmed a gasp left your lips in an attempt to catch your breath. Aemond pulled away ever so slightly before planting a small kiss to the side of your mouth and kissing across your jaw.

“Turn around,” He whispered. You did as he instructed and turned your back to him. His hands gathered your hair and looped it over your shoulder. His hands traced down your back to the satin ties of your dress, before undoing the bow. You felt as his pulled your dress down your arms, down your torso and heard it drop to the floor in a light whoosh. You felt exposed, this was your first time in just your undergarments around anyone other than your handmaidens, and a man at that. His hands moved to the lacings of your corset, undoing each loop as his eyes consumed every inch of new flesh he saw. He tossed your corset to the side and pulled the rest of your undergarments off, and your arms instinctively crossed your chest. Grabbing a hold of your hand, he pulled you around to face him once more. A low groan escaped his lips at the sight of you before bringing your face to his in a deep kiss. His body led you to the foot of his bed, your back hitting one of the towering bedposts.

You let out a small gasp as his lips left yours and latched onto your neck. His hand came to your jaw and tilted your head back to look up at him. “Ivestragon nyke skoros jaelā.” (Tell me what you want.) His voice sent a heat that spread across your body.

“I want you to-“ You started before he cut you off, fingers gripping your hair slightly.

“Daor.” (No.) He eyed you, thumb tracing your jawline.

You realised what he was requesting. Your brain sped through thousands of scenarios you could’ve imagined before settling on one. “Obūljagon.” (Kneel.) You spoke with all the confidence you could gather. His typical smirk returned to his lips as he scanned your face. He was not sure what he had expected you to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. A welcomed surprise, he sank to his knees in front of you. You watched as his lips peppered small kisses across your hips, running his hands up your thighs. He parted your legs and lifted your leg up and over his shoulder by the back of your knee. You gripped the footboard of the bed to steady yourself. An almost growl left his lips at the sight of your pussy mere inches away from his face. A sharp gasp left your lips at the feeling of his large fingers spreading your wetness from your core to your clit.

He brought one of his fingers to his lips and sucked the tip of it, watching your face intently. “Mmm, all this for me?” He grumbled rubbing the inside of your thigh at a painfully slow pace.

“Yes- Kessa, syt ao.” (Yes, for you.) You felt your pussy clenching, aching to be touched. His fingers moved to your pussy, teasing your folds before starting to slowly rub circles across your clit. You let out a moan, desperate for more. A smirk painted his lips, watching you in this state. Surrounded by the plush of your thighs, your small moans filling his ears, watching your nails dig into the footboard just to cope with the sensation. His middle and third finger slid down from your clit to the entrance of your pussy.

Your eyes opened and mouth parted to question the lack of contact before you felt his two fingers slide inside of you. You let out a loud moan at the foreign sensation. He worked his fingers in and out of you at slow pace, admiring as he watched them disappear into you, stretching you out and covering them in your slick. He left small kisses on your inner thigh, keeping his eye on your face. “More,” You pleaded in between moans. Aemond considered teasing you further, before giving into your request. His sped up his fingers pumping inside of you, increasing the tightening in your lower stomach. He admired your face screwed up in pleasure for one more moment before latching his lips upon your clit. A loud ‘fuck’ left your lips, and even you were partially surprised by the vulgarity of your language before all you could think about was Aemond’s tongue. He alternated between furiously licking and sucking your clit as his fingers pumped at a rapid pace inside of you. Your other hand moved up the bed post, gripping it for dear life as the man beneath you pleasured you. Your hips involuntarily bucked into his tongue as your moans grew louder and more frequent. A moan that left Aemond’s lips vibrated across your clit pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name and felt your pussy clench around his quick fingers. He continued to thrust them inside of you and delivered a few final licks to your clit, only stopping when your legs began to quiver. He slowly removed his fingers from your pussy and planted a final kiss on your clit, earning a shiver from you. He wiped the wetness from his chin with his cotton shirt before moving your leg off from his shoulder and rose to his feet and held his hand upon your waist sensing your wobbliness. He raised his fingers towards you admiring the wetness that coated them. He brought them up to your lips and you opened your mouth, feeling them run over your tongue towards the back of your throat. You sucked them clean, watching his expression from beneath your eyelashes.

Despite how hungrily he had attended to you, he looked at you like he was starved. “Better than any of the sugared fruits down there.” He gestured towards the window, and you blushed at his remark. Never had you been filled with such desire; you had just reached your peak on Aemond’s tongue, yet you needed more. His hand collected yours, as he led you over to his bed. His lips once again found yours as he pushed you towards the edge of the bed. The backs of your knees hit the bed and you plopped down. His lips left yours and you looked up at him expectantly. His fingers gripped the ends of his shirt before lifting it off of his head and tossing it with the rest of the discarded clothes. You eyed the definition of his chest, down his stomach and his arms that landed either side of your head, pushing you down onto the bed until your head hit the pillows. His lips latched onto your neck and eagerly kissed down your chest between the valley of your breasts.

“You do not know how much I have dreamt of this,” His large hand travelled up your side to cup your breast, his hand playing with the plumpness of it before his thumb ran over your nipple. “Moaning my name, naked in my bed, all needy for me.” His tongue traced the perimeter of your nipple before taking it into his mouth, massaging it with his tongue and earning another moan from you. Those moans that could sustain him for the rest of his life he was pretty sure.

“I also dreamt of you.” You spoke meekly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. He raised his head from your breast, brow raised.

“And what did you think about little mouse.” His smirk radiated off of him. You dreamt of him. The tightness in his trousers had become almost unbearable, but he needed to hear your sweet voice talking about him.

“I was touching you, a-and you were enjoying it.” You spoke, interrupted by a moan or two from his touch stimulating your nipples. He hummed a small ‘mmm’ in response before he moving off you and laying beside you, back propped up against the headboard. You turned to your side and looked and him inquisitively, his hand rubbed slowly over the bulge in his trousers and your mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape. He patted the bed next to his hips and you knelt facing him, unsure of what to expect. His hands reached for the tie of his trousers before you reached out and placed a hand over his. “Wait!” He looked at you with a hint of concern before you continued, “Can I try? And you tell me what you like along the way?” His jaw stiffened for a moment before he moved his hand to tangle in your hair and bring your lips to his.

You pulled your lips away from kiss and moved to kiss his neck. You started tenderly, mirroring how he had kissed yours as your hand slid down his chest towards his trousers. His breathing became more uneven as your hands touched him. Your hand fumbled with the tie of his trousers, struggling to undo it before you removed your lips from his collarbone to concentrate on the tie. He watched as your brows furrowed together, he felt as if he could finish at the sight of you. Beautiful and naked, trying so desperately to get into his pants. You finally undid the tie and looked up to Aemond with a sheepish smile, “I am not used to trousers it seems.” You giggled, and it seemed by reflex he planted a kiss on your lips.

“Dōna.” (Sweet) Your cheeks burned with his affection.

Your fingers looped over the hem of his trousers, and you pulled them down along with his undergarments as he lifted his hips slightly. Your stomach dropped at the sight of him, his cock was large and red at the tip. You froze for a second – the paintings and stories had not prepared you as well as you’d thought. You watched as his hand came to his cock and pumped it slowly a few times. His free hand reached for yours and replaced it with his own, “Just like this.” You followed the movements he had previously made, concentrating on trying to make him feel good. A small hiss brought your gaze back to his face to see his eye squeezed shut and hands gripping the sheets beneath him. You slowly increased your movements, enjoying the feeling of his cock in your hands, as you noticed a bead of precum spill his tip. Working on instinct you leant your head down and licked your tongue in a broad stroke across the tip of his cock, tasting him in your mouth. His eye immediately snapped open, “Don’t-“ He groaned.

“Sorry I-, I thought it would feel good like it did for me when you…” You trailed off searching his face. He panted, bringing your face to his. He placed his hand over yours and continued pumping his cock indicating for you to continue. He rested your forehead against his and inhaled deeply.

“It does feel good, great even, much too good.” You watched him confused, if it felt so good, why couldn’t you do it? “The difference between you and I, men and women, you may finish as many times as you please.” His voice travelled over you like honey, his free hand sliding down your stomach and rubbed his two middle fingers over your clit. “I may only once, for now, and I intend to do it in your sweet pussy.” His fingers ran small circles over your clit causing a flurry of moans to leave your lips. Your hand continued to run up and down the length of his cock, but it was hard to think straight when Aemond touched you.

“Can I feel your cock inside of me too?” Your question was genuine, if not laden with lust. It was all Aemond needed to hear before his hand reached your hip pushing you onto your back. He kissed you, hungrier than ever, barely giving you chance to keep up.

“Mirros syt ao.” (Anything for you.) He said in between kisses. He spread your legs apart, eyeing your soaking cunt, and stroked himself a couple of times before leaning over you, elbow resting beside your head. You felt as he ran his cock up and down from your clit to your core, a low groan leaving his lips. “Remember to breathe deeply, Dōna.” (Sweet). You nodded, unsure of what to expect. Aemond’s weight shifted, and you gasped as his cock slowly slid into you. Your brows furrowed as the slight discomfort slid away and was replaced with a new pleasure. His cock bottomed out, and you reached your hand to his cheek, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. He slowly started thrusting, the pace was painfully slow, but he was determined to make you feel good. As his pace picked up, his cock continuously hit a spot in your pussy that his fingers did not, causing a rather loud moan to escape your lips. “Mazemā ziry sīr sȳrī.” (You take it so well.) His praise caused a familiar tightening to start to form in your stomach.

“I love the way you feel.” Your moans filled his ears, fuelling him to go faster. His hand free hand snaked between your bodies and found your clit once more. His thrusts pounded into you, as his fingers diligently worked at your sensitive clit. The headboard begun to crack against the wall with each movement, not that either of you noticed. The quiet but delicious moans that left Aemond’s mouth were enough to ride towards your peak, the coil in your stomach tightening as you gripped your nails into his back. “Fuck! Aemond!” You exclaimed. His large cock filling you up and his fingers playing with your clit caused your orgasm to wash over you, feeling yourself tighten around his cock. His thrusts became quick and erratic as you rode out your high and his groans growing louder and more animalistic as he finished inside of you.

He panted, dropping to his elbow, and planting a small kiss upon your cheek, before pulling out of you slowly. You groaned at the loss of the fullness, missing the feeling of him already. Aemond lay beside you, pulling you by your hips to have your back against his chest. As both of your breathing slowly returned to normal you felt a small shiver run across your body, now aware of the breeze through the window. Aemond’s hand came up and ran up and down the length of your arm and pulled you close. “Is it possible to remain here all day.” You sighed, cuddling the blankets in front of you.

Aemond chuckled, “It is not our name day.” He planted a small kiss upon your shoulder. “But I do think people may notice both of our absences.” He spoke softly, with a small amount of his serious tone peeking through. You groaned, liking the feeling of being in Aemond’s arm, in his bed.

“Aemond?” You questioned, turning slightly to face him. He hummed a ‘hmm?’ in response, opening his eye. “Kessa gaomā bona run lēda aōha ēngos arlī gō īlon return naejot se rūklun?” (Will you do that thing with your tongue again before we return to the party?). A playful smirk returned to his face as he shifted above you on the bed.

“Va moriot” (Always).

[dalliancekay]

"I think Aziraphale needs to learn a lot more than that..."

Why do people keep (telling me again and again about this quote) assuming that Neil means Aziraphale needs some moral lessons, get off his high horse, learn some hard truths about Heaven, escape their grasp, finally understand that they are bad etc etc etc.

When the ask is about how Crowley is always forgiven from Aziraphale's point of view and how what (I see) Neil means is that Azi should also be told he's good enough. That he can be loved.

That what he needs to learn is how to believe in himself. To trust his mind, his feelings, to believe he is enough, he always was, that he doesn't have to be perfect or 100% right, that it is not possible and that it's okay. That he's okay. That he was lied to.

I wish we would frame Aziraphale's journey/learning as something else, not morality/awakening of some sort. Not as something he has to overcome. When Crowley changes his mind on something, no one says, oh have a gold star, you went against what Hell wants from you. Well done! Why do we do that to Aziraphale. Crowley is seen in Hell, giving presentations on some half hearted ideas that no one there really gets and getting accolades for things he didn't do at all and everyone is like, oh yay, look at him, so clever. Hahahah. Aziraphale also has to follow rules and do his tasks whether he agrees with them or not or he will be punished. He's not doing it for fun. He breaks rules when he feels he simply must and then everyone is like oh look, he is finally abandoning the rigid thinking that Heaven showed/taught him. But really, the naïve slow angel, he should try even harder.

Why such double standards?

Aziraphale is good and wants to do good. He is not sure of himself, true, but that's hardly his fault. Crowley is also good and tries to do good or at least limit the bad things he needs to do to survive.

They are two sides of the same coin. They both learn and grow. Sometimes the treatment the Ineffables get reminds me of how differently boys and girls are treated when they are learning behaviour. Boys praised for anything and everything even remotely good they do (cos they are expected to be naughty) and girls get the oh you should have already known better treatment. Aziraphale saved Job's kids cos he thought it was a horrible thing to want to do and expected to be punished for it. That's not - he didn't, it didn't change who he is. He did it expecting Falling. That's extremely brave. Yes Crowley has Fallen and people tend to see this as some extra superior move on his behalf, like he had everything figured out, understood how bad Heaven was and tried to bravely fix it. And Aziraphale needs to catch up with him. (If not by Falling himself than by doing some extraordinary learning journey to catch up with Crowley's knowledge). No. That's all HC. We don't even know why Crowley Fell. We don't. We know what he says happened (and we also know that he's not a reliable narrator...) and that's all we know. And even the things he says are not exactly showing him as some truth waving hero only wanting to make Heaven better for everyone and failing. Aziraphale is not breaking rules cos suddenly he used his brain and saw how Heaven is bad. He already knows that. He's risking punishment to help others. Again and again. And that's very kind and admirable and everything but it's not his evolving morality. He's already moral. He's already good. He always was.

He's also fucking cute. Let's not forget.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Wingwomen

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of the Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The Wingman episode

"We are your wingwomen for today," Morsa says to the camera attached to the car," This is Pernille Harder. She plays for Denmark. She plays for Chelsea." She smiles at Momma. "I know you pretty well, I can tell you that."

"You do," Momma says," I can introduce you too. Magdalena Eriksson, captain for Chelsea FC. Playing for the Swedish national team, making a lot of tackles on the football pitch but, also, at home sometimes."

Morsa laughs awkwardly. "Oh, okay."

You laugh too and Morsa reaches back to wiggle your leg. "And our little baby," She says," y/n. The future of Sweden."

Momma rolls her eyes as she pulls out of the spot. "Denmark."

"Sweden."

"Denmark."

You giggle again. "I like Arsenal!"

Momma and Morsa both groan and you beam a sunny smile.

"We started off as just friends, playing together for the same team in Sweden," Morsa says during the drive," Pernille asked me if I wanted to take a math course with her and then we studied math. And yeah, the rest is history."

"Momma doesn't like math!" You say from your seat as you make your girl-swan and girl-moose kiss.

"I like math, princesse!"

"Don't teach me math," You say back, sticking out your tongue.

Morsa laughs. "Now the producer wants to hear about the photo."

"The photo."

"The photo, yeah."

Momma smiles. "Which one? The one with us or Princesse? Because both of them kind of blew up."

"Our one first."

"It was taken at the world cup.. Yeah, after the game I kissed you. The picture was taken and we suddenly just had twenty-thousand more followers on Instagram and Twitter. I didn't get it, like, what happened?"

"After that picture," Morsa says," We really became role models. A lot of people were looking at us and were happy to be able to see that people can be open. If you're two girls in love or a girl and a boy or two boys, it doesn't matter, whatever you are. That's the message we wanted to share. It was a complete coincidence that the picture was taken but it ended up becoming a really beautiful thing."

"And the medal picture?"

"The medal picture," Morsa says softly. She turns her head to look at you. "What's the medal picture, princesse?"

"When I was wearing your medal!" You reply with a silly grin," I was very little but you still gave it to me."

"She did," Momma says," We've got that picture framed somewhere in the house. It was very cute."

"I was just making sure she understood how heavy it was," Morsa laughs," For when she wins her own."

"I'm gonna win a World Cup medal!" You insist.

"Of course you are." Morsa presses her finger to her ear to listen to the producer man before turning to Momma again. "Who or what convinced you to join Chelsea? Anyone in particular?"

Momma laughs. "Morsa thinks she's the reason we moved to Chelsea, princesse."

"She is," You say, stubbornly crossing your arms over your chest," Could've stayed at Wolfsburg."

Momma rolls her eyes. "I just think it was just the perfect timing and obviously you were playing on the team."

"It's a little bit of a bonus."

"That's a bonus, yeah. No more bath time duties, no more having to play all the time. You definitely have your uses."

"Morsa plays with me a lot," You cut in," And she does my hair in the morning. It's not always good but she tries."

Morsa turns to look at you in betrayal. "What do you mean it's not always good?!"

You shrug. "Sometimes you tug too hard."

Morsa still looks at you, mouth open wide before she reaches back to tickle your sides. You shriek and try to wiggle away but you're still strapped into your seat so you can't go anywhere.

"Do you have a funny story about the party?" Morsa asks," After winning the league?"

Momma's face lights up. "Ugh, yes!"

Morsa hides in her hands. "Are we really sharing this?"

"Morsa got excited," You say," Because she had a party with the team and forgot that she's too old to party."

"I'm not old!"

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not!"

"You're a Morsa. All Morsa's are old! You're too old to party! You went blergh everywhere!"

Morsa rolls her eyes and looks at the camera. "Because of Covid, because of everything, I hadn't been able to party in over a year. I didn't really know how much I could handle in that evening and..."

"And Morsa threw up in the toilet!"

"And I was taking care of her," Momma says," Like the good girlfriend that I am."

Morsa smiles weakly as you giggle. "Yeah, you had to do girlfriend duties."

"And Millie had to take over babysitting the princesse."

Momma pulls up to the restaurant and you eagerly look out the window, kicking your little legs. It's not often that you get KFC.

"Okay, Pernille," Morsa says," It's time. It's called The Colonel's Quiz." She pulls out a little KFC bucket.. "You can start."

"I'll take the first one."

"And just so you know before we start, Princesse gets to choose a forfeit for the loser so there's a lot at stake, okay?"

"Okay," Momma says," What is my favourite food?"

"I would say..." Morsa thinks for a moment. "Like sushi or Japanese food."

Momma nods. "It's Japanese slash Mexican."

"That's what we had yesterday!" You giggle.

"That's right, princesse. I got one correct answer!"

"Okay, so the next one," Momma says," What is my worst habit?"

"It's you sometimes ask too many questions," Morsa replies.

You think for a moment. "Er...You make me speak English at home!"

Morsa and Momma laugh.

"I said I ask questions before I try to figure it out myself."

"Two points for Morsa!" You announce. You like this game. It's fun.

"How many times did I win player of the year in Denmark? I mean, if you were a really good girlfriend, you actually should know."

"Five times?" Morsa asks, not looking too sure.

"Is that your final answer?"

"No, six times?"

You frown. That doesn't sound right either.

"Is that your final answer?"

"That's my final answer. Is it correct?"

"Yes?"

"Is it correct?"

"Yes, it is."

"Oh my god!" Morsa celebrates

You shake your head. "No," You say," Morsa's wrong. It's seven, I counted all of them at home."

Morsa laughs. "Pernille, the producer says she's right. It's actually seven."

Momma's eyes go wide. "Oh, is it? I thought it was six!"

"Momma's won too many," You say earnestly," 'Cause she can't keep up with how many she has." You shake your head almost in disappointment. When you win prizes when you're older, you're never going to forget how many you've got.

"Two out of three is not bad," Morsa says.

"No."

"Not let's see how well you know me." She picks up the slip of paper. "Who is my favourite music artist slash band?"

"Er..." Momma looks a bit worried. "Leonard Cohen or something."

"It's Lana Del Rey."

"Are you sure?"

"Momma," You say," I think Morsa knows who her favourites are."

Morsa laughs. "Thanks, princesse. Next question, what is my party trick?"

"I know! I know!"

"Let Momma answer."

"Er..." Momma doesn't look like she knows. "You get drunk and you throw up."

"Shut up!"

"Those are bad words, Morsa! You have to put money in the swear jar when we get home!"

"Yeah, I don't know."

"Princesse?"

"Morsa can open a bottle of beer with her teeth!" You say," She's going to teach me when I get all my big teeth!"

"Magda!"

Morsa tries to change the subject quickly. "Zero points for you, Pernille. We already have a winner but let's do the last question just to see if you know me a little bit. Which team did I make my international debut against?"

Momma blows out all of her and you giggle.

Morsa sighs in disappointment. "Oh, okay well...I'm gonna get out of this car now. This is not good."

"I think it is..." Momma thinks for a while. "Ukraine?"

"No."

"Hungary?"

"No. It's France."

Momma sighs.

"The forfeit is yours. Princesse?"

"Er..." You hadn't actually thought of one in advance. "Er...You...You have to order the food in an English accent!"

Momma looks stricken and Morsa laughs, leaning back to give you a high five.

"Princesse..."

"You have to!" You wave a finger at her," 'Cause you got the forfeit! Forfeits aren't meant to be fun!"

"Are you ready to practice your accent?" Morsa teases.

"You have to say please and thank you a lot," You say helpfully.

Momma pulls up to the window and in a shockingly bad accent speaks," I'd like a Twister Wrap and I'd also like a salad, please."

"Is there anything else?"

"Princesse, what do you want?"

"Popcorn chicken! And er...Fruitshoot!"

"What flavour?"

"Apple and blackcurrent!"

"And a kid's popcorn chicken and an apple and blackcurrent fruitshoot," Momma says in her bad accent.

As you pull away from the machine, the car is filled with laughter.

"Yeah," Morsa laughs," I don't know what the hell that was but it was great. It's so funny that you're like a farmer girl from Denmark doing a posh accent."

The laughter keeps going when Momma drives past the window and then tries to take the tray with her.

"If you're going to eat in the car," Morsa says as she passes you your food and drink," Then you can't spill anything."

"I won't!"

"Okay," Morsa says as you start the drive through," We've got another question here. Which of the players from our team would you want to see doing a Wingmen episode?"

"Well," Momma says," The first one I was thinking about is Sam and Erin."

You giggle. "Sam and Erin are very silly. Like clowns!"

"What about Emma Hayes doing an episode?" Morsa offers.

"Yeah that...that wouldn't be quiet," Momma replies.

"Coach Emma talks a lot," You say," She talks and talks and talks-"

"Where are we?"

"-And talks and talks and talks-"

"This is Harry Potter's World."

"-And talks and talks-"

"I don't know. I've never seen it."

You stop your repetition to gasp. "Momma! But we live in England now! That's...That's really bad!"

Momma laughs. "Sorry, princesse. I didn't realise you were this passionate about it. Who even showed you them?"

"Millie did," You say," She's fun. I like Millie."

"Is she your best friend?"

You think for a moment. "Erin and Sam are my friends too and Guro but they're not my best friends."

"Who's your best friend?"

"Jessie! I like Jessie!"

Morsa laughs. "You and Jessie are two peas in a pod. Best friends forever!"

"Jessie's my bestest friend."

Momma unlocks the car and hoists you out. "Home sweet home. I think we've been some good Wingwomen. "

"I mean this was great fun." Morsa gets out too, pressing a kiss to your cheek before smiling at Moma. "I loved you English accent, that's the best thing for me today."

"I liked the food!" You say, stuffing some chips into your mouth.

"We're never going to get her to eat healthy again," Momma laments.

"Enjoy it while you can, princesse," Morsa says," Because you've not getting anymore fast food for a while."

You stick your tongue out at them. "My bestest friend Jessie will buy me some!"

[professorspork]

Volume 1, Episode 13:

Jaune: I'm a failure. Ruby: [cheerfully] Nope! Jaune: Nope? Ruby: Nope! You're a leader now, Jaune. You're not allowed to be a failure. Jaune: But what if I'm a failure at being a leader? Ruby: Hmm… nope! Jaune: You know, you're not the easiest person to talk to about this stuff. Ruby: [still cheerfully] Nope! Ruby: [sobering] Jaune, maybe you were a failure when you were a kid. You might've even been a failure the first day we met! But you can't be one now. You know why? Jaune: Uh. Because…? Ruby: Because it's not just about you anymore. You've got a team now, Jaune. We both do. And if we fail, then we'll just be bringing them down with us. We have to put our teammates first, and ourselves second.

Volume 9, Episode 7:

Jaune: I couldn't save them. I was supposed to save them. And they're dead. Yang: No, Jaune. They're gone, but they're not dead. They'll be back. Weiss: Yeah, it's what they wanted. Right, Ruby? Ruby: why are you asking me? Blake: Um. We just— Ruby: Because I'm the leader? Because I'm just supposed to have something to say? 'Cause I don't. Ruby: [more agitated] I mean, why do I have to be the leader anyway? Why do I have to always be the one to pick people up? What about me? 'No time,' right? (…) Ruby: I'm sorry, is this a bad time? Are we supposed to be mourning Jaune's make believe friends? Jaune: They're gone because of you! The walkers came for you, because Neo hates you! Oh, and let's not forget the reason we're in the Ever After in the first place is because of your plan, that that didn't work! 'What about you?' It's ALL about you!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

... which is all to say, it was fucked up the first time Ruby said all this. It was a red flag all the way back at Beacon. Ruby was wrong to tell Jaune that and frame it that way, and this has been building between them literally since day one because of it.

Ruby's never had a healthy or reasonable conception of what a leader is or what their responsibilities are and like. how could she? between being raised in her mother's shadow and her silver eyes putting her on a magic pedestal she never stood a chance. and if she confronted the fact that that might be a problem that would mean admitting she has a problem which is against the rules for leaders. it's never allowed to be about her; she can't want things or have doubts.

Ruby's optimism didn't break, she stopped choosing it. because it was always a conscious decision she was making. and now she can't anymore, understandably, because she's too tired! she doesn't have anything left to give!

which also brings up--

when Ruby snaps at Blake to shut up after Blake tries to look on the bright side, she doesn't say "You're wrong."

she says "Don't do that."

even in her meanest moment, she's not actually trying to pull Blake down.

she's trying to stop Blake from making the same mistake she did, the same error in logic she then passed on to Jaune, which was insisting relentless positivity was the only way to lead.

[jinxthequeergirl]

Fireworks

pines family x parental figure!reader/ implied stanfordx reader

Summary: based on the song "Fireworks" by mitski- you've lost yourself in your journey to bring back your friend from another dimension that you've almost forgotten about your family.

Warning: ANGST BABY!!!!! WOWOW! Also corny as hell

Enjoy

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~

You wondered how long you'd feel like this. The sense of constant unease and dread and guilt.

"You're going to drive yourself crazy staring at those pages."

You blinked with heavy eyelids as you stared at the half complete layout of the large portal machine. "I can figure it.. I know I can..." You mumbled.

"There's nothing we can do until we have the last journal."

You said nothing but focused on the pages, thinking till your brain was numb.

Stan sighed, realizing he wasn't getting you away from those books without a fight.

"ME and the kids are going to be outside incase you care to join us."

You mumbled or groaned he couldn't really tell the difference. He frowned he had noticed a change in you most recently though he knew you didn't think he did.

A slight grey in your eyes as you continued to work. He knew you wanted to bring Stanford home so did he. But not to the extent you had been pushing it too. So he quietly went to meet the kids upstairs.

You felt your eyes growing heavy. Your thoughts drift as you stared at the page and wondered when you had gotten to this point.

You had spent so much time crying for Stanford to come back, so much time blaming Stanley for losing him. Then the feelings just fossilized one morning. You knew they where still there. You still felt the grief, the guilt the anger.

But for some reason, you'd forgot how to cry.

You heard a faint popping from upstairs but didn't think much of it at first. Still dazing into the old journals.

Trying for anything. A spark of an idea a glimmer of hope, the courage to face what you feared be true, to feel less lifeless again.

hoping that the almost numb feeling wasn't your lost feelings for him. If that was the case, then that would mean you'd given up hope on finding him again.

You hear the popping again, followed by cheering. You look up for the first time in what feels like hours. Your neck hurts, and you groan in pain as your eyes are met with a photo of you and Stanford.

Is this what he would want for you? The feelings you had were real and still hurt. The feelings you had for Ford were just the same.

Your eyes drift to the photo next to it. You and Stanley and the kids squished together to fit the frame. A wide grin across all your faces.

You heard the popping and booming louder this time.

This isn't what Stanford would want for you. You decide as you push yourself out of the chair with a stretch and up the basement steps.

You he'd want you to realize that what you felt was healing. Not losing hope or feeling for him like you feared.

Your eyes adjust to the light as you step into the warm summer night.

He'd want you to connect with the people you called family.

"Y/n, you made it! We still have some fireworks left!" Mable cheered as you shut the door that led to the roof. "I saved all your favorite colors incase you came out."

Take care of yourself.

"I dunno guys. Isn't this kinda dangerous?" You asked. The twins shared a look with eachother before you laughed.

"Who am I kidding? Hand me the biggest one you have!" You exclaimed.

Stan laughed. "Ah there they are the y/n we all know and love!"

And more importantly be there for them.

You placed an apologetic hand on stans shoulder and offered him a smile. Which he returned.

You sat on the edge of the roof watching the fireworks for most of the night feeling your worries wash away.

Everything was gonna be alright with them by your side.

It always had been.

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~

[starlightazriel]

bee 8

desc: modern day bestfriends>lovers azriel au (fem reader)

warnings: lots of time jumps, rhys being rhys, arguing/angst, lying, az being unhinged in vegas (leave my bby alone he's not used to serious relationships), reader being insecure , SMUT ! (oral, az eating the booty like groceries (we been over this guys hes a freak), raw dogging, soft dom, self gratification,vibrator, squirting, spanking, cream pie), fluff, drug/alcohol addiction

A/N: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG MY LIFE IS V V MESSY AND UNHINGED ALSO THIS ISNT FULLY PROOF READ

MOOD FOR THE BEGINNING OF THIS

wc: 5.9k

other parts can be found on my masterlist under azriel

eight

"I got us a massive suite at the four seasons for our trip this weekend," Rhys is grinning while showing Cassian a photo of what he had booked for them. Azriel suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, only Rhys would drop that big of a bag on a weekend work-stay, they were supposed to be location scouting. He didn't want to be ungrateful, but him and Bee were in their honeymoon phase... Everything was just going right, everything except the fact that Rhys wanted to move him hundreds of miles away.

"This weekend?" Azriel grimaces, leaning against the reception desk in the shop. Kat had gone home already and it was just Rhys, Cass and Azriel left. "What if I don't want to uproot my entire life here and move to Vegas?" he asks then, Cass shifts uncomfortably on his feet, looking between his two best friends.

Rhys' jaw flexed and he leaned back, tilting his chin up at Azriel in that power tripping way that he did so often. Azriels jaw flexed, his hands balling up at his sides as he stared Rhys down, not shying away from his intimidating frame. He knew challenging Rhys never ended well, sometimes he just couldn't help himself.

"You do realize that you have a contract, right Azriel? A contract that you signed, a contract that includes relocation if I see fit," Rhys voice is cool and unwavering as he assesses Azriel. "Maybe, if you had been sober while reading the contract, you would have known that was included," Rhys eyes narrowed, the tension in Azriels jaw grew, his temper flaring. "And maybe if you had been sober when we were talking about this trip weeks ago, you would have remembered that we were going this weekend to scout out a few potential new spaces," Rhys tone was unwavering, Cass winced behind him, it was always his job to keep the peace, usually between the three of them it was almost always Rhys and Az butting heads.

"Fuck this, I got dinner plans to get ready for," Azriels voice was a near growl now, and he didn't even bother to say good bye to either of his closest friends before he left them in the shop with a slam of the front door, the bells rattling at the top as it slammed shut.

His annoyance and Rhys' sheer entitlement had him needing to take the edge off. Az loved Rhys, of course he did, he was basically his brother- but that didnt mean they always agreed. Azriel tried not to think about Rhys' jabs at his sobriety while he took a quick sniff from his vile before heading home.

-

With Bee, it was just easy. Azriel didn't seem to have the same issues he did in the past with other women, being faithful to her came easy. He guessed it was because he always had been loyal to her in a sense, since they were just kids.

The past weeks had been a type of bliss that Azriel had never known, a different kind of high than the one he got from his drug of choice. They were fucking constantly, waking up together every morning, going on dates whenever they had time, fuck, he had even posted her which he had never done for anyone else... It was a picture of her at the beach, grinning so brightly it made his chest feel tight because he put that smile on her face. ive been so blind, was his only explanation under the photo.

And still, he wasn't able to bring himself to tell her about Rhys' Vegas plans for the next year. Everything was too perfect right now. Granted it had only been a few weeks since their first date, but he just didn't wanna mess everything up so soon, he wanted to live in this perfect little bubble just a little longer.

"Az? You with me?" she giggles softly, her dirty martini pulled to her lips, her eyes glowing as she looked at him from under dark lashes. "I think I want to get the vodka pappardelle," she places her glass down again and points to the menu.

"Yeah, whatever you want baby, sorry," he ran his finger through his hair, leaning back into his seat, flicking his eyes back down to the menu. "Just- I know it's last minute, I'm going on a little Vegas trip this weekend with Rhys and Cass," he waited a second before looking up and studied her face, absentmindedly messing with the straw in his own drink.

"A Vegas trip?" Bees eyebrows draw together, her attention was already on him, the menu forgotten, he swallowed. "Like Las Vegas?" she asks, a little more slowly this time. "Why are you guys going out there?" the concern, the uncertainty in her eyes made Azriels gut wrench. He knew he should tell her everything now, tell her that the possibility of him living there next year was becoming less of a possibility and more of a reality. Sure, when she was done with school, she could be a nurse anywhere... But that was still a ways away.

"Boys trip," he shrugs, and it wasn't exactly a lie, it just wasn't the full truth. She looked back at him skeptically, and he knew he had to change the subject soon.

"Boys trip, huh?" she leans back, raising an eyebrow skeptically. In the past- boys trips were really only meant for single Az.

"I'll be good," Az flashes her a smile, he knew he may have used the wrong choice of wording. A year ago, a boys trip to Vegas would have meant unlimited blow, maybe even a threesome, hooking up with randoms, losing all of his money. "Gonna gamble for sure though," he sips his drink, she's still looking at him with a skeptical look as if she knew there was more to the story. Luckily for Az the server came back for the rest of their order.

"Have we made some decisions?" she asks, looking between the two of them, Az only jerked his chin toward Bee, he liked the smile it put on her face to be able to choose everything for them so they could try it together.

"Yes we are going to share the duck pizza and the vodka pappardelle, you want oysters Az?" she lifts her eyes from the menu to look back at Azriel, he smirks and glances up at the server.

"Yeah, we'll start with a dozen," he shrugs and the waitress beams, making sure she had everything correct before leaving the table. "Thank you," he adds, but his eyes are back on Bee.

"So boys trip to Vegas, kinda last minute huh?" she quirks her brow again, leaning forward, her elbows on the table, Azriel tried not to let his eyes settle for too long on her breasts as they spilled slightly out of her top. Of course he wasnt lucky enough that she'd already forgotten about it.

"Yeah, I mean, I knew about it.. Just forgot," he shrugs easily, nudging her foot under the table, her eyes are hazy but he can still see that skeptical glint in them. He didn't want to lie, or leave parts of the truth out... But he also wanted to have a good night before he had to leave in a couple days, plus, she was working the rest of the week until he was gone anyway.

"Interesting," she murmurs, rubbing her finger against the base of her glass. "Anyway, you better bring something back for me," she shrugs before taking another sip from her martini.

"I wouldn't dream of coming back without something for my girl," he licks his lips, nudging her foot gently again under the table, her cheeks warm at his words and she rolls her eyes playfully at him. Az knew he was good at distracting her, though he wasn't sure if that was really a good thing or not.

"Yeah, yeah," she laughs softly, the sound made Azriels chest swell. "Thank you so much," she smiles softly as the runner sets the oysters down on the table between them.

"Can I grab you anything else?" the boy flashes her a cheeky grin that Azriel doesn't miss, he clears his throat as if to remind him he was sitting there across from her.

"More lemons," Az says boredly but there was an edge of annoyance in his tone, making the boys head snap to him and he blushed slightly, nodding his head. He didn't need more lemons, he just wanted to be difficult, the level of jealousy he felt when anyone even spoke to her was something he'd never experienced.

"Oh, of course, I'll be right back," he swallows, before running off back to the kitchen. Azriels eyes snap back to Bee, who's looking at him with pursed lips.

"Azriel, lay off the poor kid he's like eighteen," she shakes her head slightly, he noted that her martini was almost gone now, she was definitely feeling it. He only shrugs, smirking at her, stretching his legs out under the table so they were more than in her space, the skin of her bare calf pressed against his pants, she's nibbling on her lip, her eyes growing darker with lust. He loved how easy it was for him to get her going.

"Here you are, enjoy," hes back quickly and he places the small dish of lemons in front of Azriel.

"We will," Az only nods, Bee makes sure to utter a rushed thank you to him, shooting Azriel another look. "Don't look at me like that, lemme see you swallow," he smirks suggestively and she lets out a little puff of air her jaw dropping slightly but she couldn't help but smile.

"Azriel, don't be gross," she giggled quietly but she was still squeezing lemon onto the first oyster, he watched as the juice dripped off of her fingertips and she picked up the oyster, her eyes meeting his.

"That's it," he murmured, watching her tip her head back slightly and open her lips, her cheeks warmed at the gravelly tone of his voice. "Good practice for when I make you swallow something else tonight," he smirked, sipping from his drink while he watched her rest the shell on her lower lip, he watched her throat bob as she swallowed, humming softly in approval.

"Mmm those are good ones," she giggled softly, turning the shell over and placing it back on the ice.

"Youre a good one," his lips twitched in a sheepish smirk and she held his gaze, her own full of so much love it made his heart rate pick up.

"Az Im worried about you, cheesy much? youre definitely going soft on me," she grinned so brightly it made heat crawl up the back of his neck and onto his cheeks.

His cock was aching in his pants, he couldn't wait to get her back home. His jaw flexed before he muttered "you're going to be my end I swear."

-

"I should have stopped after the first two," I giggled quietly as I stumbled into my bedroom, kicking my heels off behind me, Azriel was right behind me, I could almost feel his eyes burning into my backside.

"I told you," he says in that low husky tone he often used with me these days, it was laced with so much need it made my head spin. "Anyway, Im glad now because it will give you courage for our reenactment."

"Reenactment?" I ask, turning to look at him now my brow slightly furrowed. "Of what?" I ask curiously, taking each of my earrings off, I had obviously been wearing the ones from Az, I had every day since he had gifted them to me. I had learned that he liked to get rough often, I didnt want to chance losing them so I tucked them away carefully in my jewelry box.

"Of the day I walked in on you," his voice was so calm and commanding it made my toes curl, my breath hitched, a warm tingling sensation spreading throughout my pussy. My cheeks warmed at the thought.

"Az- I can't..." I breathed out, my heart rate picking up at the thought of just purposefully touching myself in front of him.

"I didnt ask if you could. You will," he says, his voice so sure, and he was right. Knowing what he could do to me... Anything he told me to do, Id do it. Especially when he sounded like that. "I'll give you about five minutes to get situated, ten if youre lucky but I don't think I can be that patient. Im going to show you what I wanted to do to you," he adds, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. I was already moving before my brain could even process. My throat bobbed, my cheeks embarrassingly red as I retrieved the toy I had used that day from my top drawer and I left him alone in my room. It was annoying how easily he could render me speechless these days.

I slipped out of my dress and my panties, leaving them both on his bedroom floor, I didn't dare look at myself in the full length mirror he had. I let myself fall back onto his bed, inhaling his cedary scent just like I did that day he walked in on me.

My heart was racing as I spread my legs and placed my rose toy on my clit. I let out a small huff my eyes on Azriels open bedroom door as I let the toy suction softly to my pussy. My hand traveled up, caressing my skin gently before settling on my nipple, I rolled it gently between my fingertips. My breath hitched when he appeared in the door way, looking handsome as ever, my cheeks warmed at the sight of him. How had I gotten so lucky?

"That's my baby," Azriel chuckled darkly as he leaned against the door frame to his bedroom. I moaned softly when our eyes met, my cheeks turning pink. "Now if I had been bold enough that day, I would have got down on my knees like I'm about to now,"

"Az," I whimpered softly in desperation, the need for him starting to outweigh my nerves. It was hard to want to hide when he made me feel so sexy. A single look was enough to do me in.

"Shh baby," he hums softly and in one fluid motion, pulls me to the edge of the bed and slowly drops to his knees. I whimper softly as he brushes the sides of his face against my inner thighs, inhaling my scent before spreading my legs. I gasped softly my hand shaking slightly as I held my toy between my legs.

Azriel sucked gently and bit at the sensitive skin on my inner thighs, a guttural moan escaped my lips at the contrasting feeling. The sting of his little nibbles mixed with the soft buzz and suction from my toy had my back arching up. "Please Az," I gasped softly, I knew there would be little bruises peppered over my delicate skin.

"Please what baby?" he breathed out, his breath hot against my sensitive skin. My head was spinning, I didn't know if it was from the alcohol I'd drank at dinner or from the way he touched me, the way he took control, guided me. It just felt so right, so perfect.

"Please," I let a heavy breath pass through parted lips, my heart beating rapidly against my chest. "Please taste me, I need you," I begged softly, gasping as he pushed my legs up, the delicious scrape of his rough hands against my skin sending heat slithering down my spine.

"That's my good girl," he licked his lips at the sight of me, my legs spread and up in the air, bared to him except for my clit, the vibrator still buzzing around it. I was already so close, my cunt pulsating with need for him. My breath hitched when I felt his mouth on me, the slow lazy roll of his tongue on my second hole sending stars dancing in my eyes. I hummed softly, tossing my head back and letting my eyes squeeze shut, goosebumps raising all over my skin.

"F-fuck Az," I breathed out, the new sensation making my mind go numb. His thumbs pressed harder into the backs of my thighs, I arched my back slightly, gasping again for breath as he circled his tongue around and around my opening. He held my legs open as they threatened to close, quivering pathetically underneath his touch. It was only a matter of seconds before I was cumming, his name ringing out through the room, making him moan against me. My vibrator fell from my hand, gently hitting his cheek before rolling onto the floor next to him. I panted, my hips wriggling underneath him as he sucked the sensitive skin between my pussy and my ass before covering my entire cunt with his mouth. "Ohh my- fuck-" each word came out in a pathetic broken moan as he shook his head between my legs. I couldn't hold it back anymore and I was squirting all over his face, he moaned against me, pulling off of my pussy with a soft sucking sound.

He gently licked me down from my high, my body jerking with the aftershocks of my intense orgasms. "Damn baby I didnt know you could do that," his eyes are so dark and hazy with lust as he kisses back up my body, hes back on his feet now, hovering over me. "My little sprinkler," he teases before biting down softly on my nipple, I yelped softly, my body jerking.

"Az, I need you so fucking bad," I breathed out my eyes meeting with his. He grinned in that lazy way he did his face still glistening with my cum. He looked so damn happy, it made my heart sing. It had been a bit of a rare sight these last couple years... But these past few weeks? He had been nothing but happy, it made my chest swell knowing I was the cause of that happiness.

"I was gonna put my cock in your mouth first but since you've been so good we'll save it for later," he stood up straight, looking down at me hungrily, my legs laying lazily over the edge of the bed now. He undid his pants, his eyes never leaving me as he dropped them to the floor. "Lay on your stomach," he commanded, his voice gravelly. He watched me readjust myself, cursing quietly under his breath as I lay on my stomach across his bed before him.

I let out a moan when his hand unexpectedly connected with my ass with a loud slapping sound, the sting sending my toes curling. He gently lifted me up, his arm wrapping around my torso and lifting up with ease. He slid a pillow underneath to prop me up perfectly. Azriel gently rubbed his rough fingers over the tender spot he had smacked, humming in approval. "Ive wanted to do that since I watched you walk away from me in the hall that day," he admits, only earning a whimper in response from me. I was so ready for him to fuck me into nothing.

I shivered as Azriel slowly slid his fingertips over my shoulders and down my arms gently wrapping his large scarred fingers around the tips of his fingers pressing into the insides of my elbows as he pulled my arms behind my back. He used one hand to pin my wrists to my lower back, I whimpered softly, begging him for his cock again as his hand tightened on my wrists, his large hands finding no trouble.

He used his other hand to guide his cock toward my pussy, not bothering with a condom. If it was one thing about Az, we were fucking raw, every time. He slid his tip over my slick cunt, teasing gently before sinking into me, cursing softly under his breath as he did. "Yes please fuck me, please," I begged desperately, the side of my face pressed into his bed.

"That's my girl, so wet and tight for me," his fingers were gripping the bed beneath me, his mouth almost by my ear now as he moved in and out of me his cock filled me up over and over.

I moaned his name again, arching my back up for him, he hissed under his breath and spanked me again, I felt my ass jiggle under his big hand, the sting made my body jerk. "I love how you fuck me," I whimpered softly, feeling like a puddle beneath him, he still my hands pinned to my back, he let out a low groan from deep in his throat, up on his knees as he slammed his hips over and over against my ass.

I let out another broken moan, his considerable length dragging over my g spot every time he thrusted himself into me, I couldnt hold it in anymore and I came all over his cock with my third orgasm of the night, stars danced behind my eyes my body tensing underneath him. I couldnt stop the scream that left my lips as he continued fucking me, cursing again softly and squeezing my tender and red flesh from his spanks. "Ohh yesss Az..." I moaned again, his thrusts lost their rhythm as he grew closer, his breath heavy and erratic behind me.

"Mmm baby you're so fucking sexy," he breathed out before letting out a low guttural groan. "I'm gonna fill up that pretty little cunt," he grunted in my ear and with a few more thrusts I cried out softly at the feeling of his thick ropes of cum spilling into my pussy. So damn good. "Fuck," he breathed slowly pulling his hands from my wrists, my arms fell back at my sides and I whimpered softly as he slowly pulled his cock from my pussy. He swore again under his breath, "Stay just like that," he muttered, leaning over and grabbing his phone from the bedside table, and I felt him slap his still semi hard cock on my ass cheek. "For later," I could hear the grin in his voice as he snapped a picture of his gleaming cock against my ass. I just whimpered softly in response, my body feeling limp my mind numb. He tossed his phone aside on the bed and flipped me over onto my back and placed a soft kiss to my lips.

I had been waiting to get fucked like this for years. None of my past lovers had ever been able to compare to the way that Az made me feel, though if things hadn't gone the way they did with Az I probably would have ended up giving Eris another chance.

"You're so damn good at fucking," I huffed out, looking up at him with hazy satisfaction. "It's not fair," he just laughed and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead and then my lips. I let my eyes flutter shut again as he tucked my hair behind my ear before he muttered "let's get you cleaned up baby."

-

"Send me lots of pictures," Bee flashes her biggest grin, hugging Azriel so tightly. He smiled down at her, squeezing her back and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He was glad she had brought them to the air port, it gave him just a little extra time with her.

"I promise baby I will, I'm gonna miss you," he rubs small circles into her back, savoring the last few minutes they had together before he was on the plane.

"Be good okay?" she drops her voice lower, Rhys and Cass were standing off to the side waiting for him while he said his last goodbyes. He could tell she didn't want them to hear this part. "Just like- stick to drinking and bud okay? Just don't want you to buy something without knowing what it is for sure first.." she mumbles softly, biting down gently on her lip.

Az sighs quietly, pulling away slightly at her words, he knew she meant well but he couldn't help but get the tiniest bit annoyed. "I'm gonna be fine, chill off me," he chuckled quietly but leaned down and pressed one more kiss to her lips, because he know she was only saying that because she cared about him... She had never exactly supported his extracurricular activities. "I'll be good, and you better be good too," he warns playfully, but there was a slight edge in his tone so she would know he did mean it. "You're mine now, I don't want to hear about any red headed visitors," he raises an eyebrow and she pursed her lips, glaring lightly at him.

"Azriel. You know I would never-"

"I know," he cuts her off, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I gotta go baby, text me when you're home safe alright? I'll text you when I land," he opens his arms one last time to crush her in good bye hug, she hums softly tucking her chin into his neck and inhaling his scent.

"I love you," she mumbles softly, he just grinned and hugged her even tighter, he kissed the top of her head, not daring to utter it back yet. Some things he just wasn't ready for.

He had told her he loved her dozens of times, but he knew the next time he said those words to her, they would carry a whole different weight.

-

It was evening on the second day when they finally made it out onto the strip, the first day had been filled with scouting out locations. Rhys had already signed a lease, much to his own surprise, he thought he'd have to come back a few times before finding the perfect spot for their new shop. The signing was followed by a very late dinner and a few bottles of champagne before they retreated back to the massive suite Rhys had got for them.

Azriel had to admit, he liked it here. He was having a blast with his brothers, and he hadn't wanted to admit it before but he could see himself living here. He knew this would be a level up for him, he would make way more money out here... Plans were already stirring in his head for how he would convince Bee to move out here with him, she would have to transfer schools, quit her job... He knew that was a lot to ask. He couldn't imagine not living with her anymore...

"Sin city baby!!! AZ! Get outta your head man do you see this shit?" Cass had been excited since the moment they stepped off the plane yesterday, they were all quite fucked up now. They had been gambling all night, winning and losing money and had now settled in one of the nicest clubs Azriel had ever been in. There was half naked bottle girls everywhere, and of course Rhys had got them a VIP section with bottle service included.

"Oh I see it," Azriel laughs softly, catching the eyes of the bottle girl who was leaning very close to him as she poured shots for the three of them. She was definitely giving him the eyes. Azriel had to look away then, turning his head back toward Cass. "I'm just fucked up," against Bees wishes, the first thing he had done this morning was purchase a gram.

"Better hope that shit didn't have fenty in it," Rhys turns his head to look at Az, who rolls his eyes in response.

"It's doesn't," he snaps back, before downing another shot, he didn't even know how many he'd had at this point. "It's just good shit you want a line?" he raises his eyebrows, there had been a time the three of them did this all together. Az just never grew out of it...

"I'll take one man, I'm in fucking Vegas!" Cass shouts, earning a laugh from Az who simply passed the little white bag over. This was one thing about Vegas he liked, the freedom of just being able to do a line in the club and no one even batted a single eye because it was Vegas, and obviously one of them had money if they had a VIP here.

"Some day the two of you will grow up," Rhys sighs before beckoning the bottle girl over for the list of bottles they could purchase.

"Get the Clase Rhys we are celebrating!" Cass voice boomed out and he shot to his feet, shaking his head with the effect the drugs had on him. Azriel just laughed and snatched his little bag back from him.

"Easy," Az laughs again, catching the bottle girls eye again, he didn't mean to, she was fucking staring. She flashed him a seductive little grin before retreating to get the bottle that Rhys had ordered.

He knew a few months ago he would have flirted a little and ended up taking her back to the room. He wasn't single anymore though, and the pain it would cause Bee just for him to get his nut off for a night while he was on his boys trip, it just wasn't worth it. Plus, he needed her to know he wasn't that guy anymore. He wanted to be everything for her.

-

"No fucking way," my phone tightened in my hand as I stared down at it, Kat and I were out to brunch, she figured we should have a little girls weekend while the boys were away. So finally we were able to do something since I had Sunday off, Az wouldn't be landing back home until late tonight.

"What is it?" Kat asks, lifting her eyes from her plate.

"Go look at fucking Cassian's instagram," I said through gritted teeth as I swiped through each photo from their apparent escapades lastnight.

There was my Az, my Az... Grinning wickedly, leaning over, face smushed between the tits of two bottle girls who were wearing nothing but lingerie to cover their most intimate bits. He had his arms around each of them, a drink nearly spilling over one of their shoulders. His pupils were blown out, clearly he hadn't listened to me about staying away from drugs out there. My heart was sinking further with the scroll of each photo. There was another snap shot of him dancing with one of them, she was bent over, her ass shaking on him, one of his hands loosely on her waist.

"Oh fuuuck.." Kat drew out the word, her eyes widening as she looked down at the photos on her phone.

"Yeah fuck is right," I locked my phone, tossing it on the table next to me before downing the rest of my mimosa. "I fucking knew it, he hasn't changed even a little bit- As soon as he said boys trip I-"

"Boys trip?" she asked, drawing her eyebrows together. "That's what he told you?" she asks, biting her lip and gnawing on it a bit. What the fuck did she know?

"Kat...?" I say slowly, meeting her eyes, her cheeks are flushed as if she had just said something she knew she shouldn't have.

"I- I'm sure Az is going to tell you- I don't think it's my place to-"

"Just spit it out," I was starting to get more angry, the gnawing feeling of shame starting to eat at my stomach. "What do you know?!" I demanded and she loosed a breath, leaning back in her seat.

"Bee- I swear I thought he told you- Please don't tell him it was me that said anything I'm sure he's just waiting for-"

"Just spit it out Kat," I repeat, an impatient edge to my tone. What had he kept from me?

"It was a location scouting trip- For-for the new shop that Rhys is opening up with Az and Cass in Vegas," her voice is soft now, and she's almost wincing as she waits for my reaction.

Just like that... It felt like everything had been some sick game to pass the time. My stomach turned, I felt like I was going to lose everything I had eaten on our little brunch date.

"I'm so fucking stupid," I breathed softly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. I really thought I knew him better than that... I never expected him to pull some shit like this. To keep something this big from me.

-

Azriel groaned loudly as he rolled over, the silky sheets slipping from his skin as he reached for his phone. He smiled, noticing the few notifications he had from Bee, his face quickly fell, and he was sitting up straight in an instant rubbing his eyes.

good morning!! can't wait to see you tonight

Normal, but the message below that one, and the notification that she stopped sharing her location? Definitely not normal. They had been sharing location for years, basically since it had become an option.

going to visit my family for a couple days i'll talk to you when i get back.

He quickly typed out a response.

everything okay baby?

He knew he had forgotten to face time her lastnight before he went to bed, but he was so fucked up he couldn't even remember getting home. And it had to have been almost 5 am when they had gotten back to the resort. She had asked him before they left to face time her before he went to sleep both nights, surely she couldn't be that mad over that, could she?

As he padded into the little kitchen that was built into the suite, his eyes were glued to his phone. He opened instagram next, and his stomach twisted slightly when he pressed her story and it was one of those dumb quotes girls tended to post after getting dumped about never really being able to know someone.

Fuck what did I do? his face had gone a little pale, the contents of the michelin star dinner they had lastnight and all the alcohol he had consumed bubbled in his stomach, he was racking his brain, trying to piece together the night, he couldn't really remember much of anything once they had left the casino and got to the club.

All he had to do was scroll down to the top post on his feed and his face paled. "Cass are you fucking dumb?" he's in Cassians part of the suite before he can even think shaking him awake.

"What the fuck man?" Cass groans, rolling over and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Rhys was behind them now, he had been up for an hour or two already.

"You saw the instagram post didn't you?" Rhys chuckles from behind him, holding his coffee cup in hand, leaning against the door frame.

"You think this shits funny?" He demands, whirling around to direct his attention to Rhys. As angry as he was at Cass, he knew it was only his fault that he had bought coke and got completely black out shit faced drunk. "Man fuck both of you," he growls and turns on his heel, storming to the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

-

a/n: sorry but if it's one thing abt me yk i love drama

taglist: @smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta

[prettynice8]

Kinkmas Day 6: Size kink

Pairing: Akaza x male reader

This guy

Warnings: size kink DUH, swearing, sex, reader rides Akaza, pretty fluffy

Word count: 1,237

You were just relaxing in the comfort of your own home when you heard something open, then a cold breeze washed over you, causing a chill to run down your spine. Your body shot right up and OH MY GOD.

No I'm just fucking with you, it was just your big demon friend Akaza.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" He asked, noticing your body shooting up off of your couch. You breath rapidly, clutching your chest from the spook he gave you.

"Oh no, I'm fine." You said, clearly lying. His large body walks closer to you, and you feel a tingle down your neck every time he steps closer. You never get used to his large body, strong muscular arms and abs that he always shows off. His fluffy pink hair that you just yearn to run your hands through, his tattoos that you would love to chase the outlines of with your finger while he's sleeping off a night of heated passion and yes you were absolutely in love with him.

Obviously, he didn't know, though you weren't very secretive about it. Always staring at him a little too long and your touches a little too lasting. You were practically obsessed, and you never really knew if he felt the same way. I mean sure you catch him staring at you all the time, he also always stops over for seemingly no reason, and he cuddles you an awful lot, but that's just what friends do, right? And besides he had wife, but bi and pan people do exist. Huh.

Anygay, back to the his striking yellow eyes staring right into yours.

"You okay?" he questioned, breaking you out of your haze and returning all of your attention back on him.

"I'm swell." You replied, still caught in his large frame, like seriously this mother fucker DWARFS you. His biceps are practically the size of your head, oh and those abs. "So why are you here?" you asked, though you already kind of know, he's probably just here because he felt like it.

"Just felt like it." He answered. Yep, called it. For such an evil demon or whatever he sure is predictable. You plop a seat on the couch and pat the spot next to you.

"Take a seat." you said, finally reacting normally like he was your just a friend, which he was, right? You honestly don't fucking know at this point. He obliges, sitting on the spot you patted.

"So, how's life?" he asked, trying to spark conversation.

"Pretty ok, you?" You questioned back.

"Better now that you're here." He replied, the chuckled after, you roll your eyes. "But really, I am grateful to talk to you."

"You could do that anytime." You stated, surprised by his response. He comes a little closer to you now, to the point where your sides are touching.

"And that's why I'm grateful." He said. This is definitely weird, right?

It's quiet for a while after that, you don't really know how to respond to his sudden declaration of gratitude. It remains that way, silently sitting next to each other, you feel his large arm brush against your own. It remains that way for a while until he SUDDENLY KISSES YOU!

You are completely stunned until finally realizing what's going on, then you kiss him right back. He breaks away,

"I'm sorry if that was uncalled for, I just really needed to." He apologizes, you make it clear to him that it was very warranted by kissing him. He automatically kisses you back, his tongue already in your mouth. His tongue starts to explore your mouth, dancing with yours.

His breaks once again to put you on top of him. You barely fill up his massive lap, once he plops you into his lap, he goes right back to kissing you. Your hands do what they have wished to do for months now, you run your hands through his soft pink hair while his hands go for your plump ass. This causes you to let out a little moan, allowing his tongue to go deeper down your mouth, practically being in the back of your throat now, but kissing isn't enough for him right now.

He takes off his vest, obviously not much changing sense already was shirtless, but he also takes your shirt off. He then goes to removing your pants, but before he can take his own off you stop him. His face is one of confusion until you kneel down right in front of him, taking them off for him. His giant cock springs free, and when I tell you it's giant, I mean GIANT.

You begin to lick the tip, causing small noises to come out of Akaza's mouth, but you have the rest of your life to suck his dick, so you get right back up on your designated place on his lap. He sticks his fingers in your ass, spreading just enough to where his member will probably still rip you in half, but at least this time it won't be instant.

He sticks it in, taking a long-time since he is SO FUCKING BIG. His massive cock splitting you open. After what feels like hours only the tip is in. Tears start to form in the corner of your eyes due to the discomfort.

"Shush baby, it's ok." He assured, though it's awfully hard to believe that. Right when you think that it will never go in, he kisses you deeply and passionately, calming your down enough to where he's able to be balls deep.

You let out a sigh of relief and a yelp of pain from his huge dick moving so much so quickly after not moving at all. Your hands rest on his muscled chest for traction, trying not to feint.

"Just tell me when you are ready." He said, not moving until getting the go from you that it's ok.

"Now." You said, and with that he puts hands on your ass and begins to lift you up and down slowly, not wanting to hurt you. You let out whines of discomfort.

"I'm sorry baby, it will start to feel good soon I promise." Akaza reassured, feeling bad for you. He calms you down with light kisses on your face, making sure to kiss the tears welling up in your eyes away as well.

When you get more comfortable with his size, he increases his pace. Lifting you on his girth quicker, the whines of displeasure now finally turning into moans of bliss.

"Told you dear." He said, glad that you're enjoying as much as he is. He keeps a steady and quick pace, then pumping his own hips into you, causing your moans to get louder.

Your tongue lulls out of your mouth, the pleasure now near over encompassing as you feel your release coming on so quickly, his dick really is something special.

"I'm close." You said, warning him on your coming release,

"Really, so quickly?" He replied in a surprised manner. You answer by sticking your tongue out at him, causing you both to breathlessly laugh.

His thrusts and lifting both get quicker and sloppier as he chases for both of your climaxes. You're the first, cumming all over his chest, he's next, cumming right in your ass.

"I LOVE YOU" You both say at the same time, finally cementing your relationship.

THE END

[pawberri]

thank you for all the posts you've made, your takes are always so refreshing to hear.

I want to know your thoughts (if it's okay with you, you can also totally ignore this) about all the "men hate" I see online. like I (poc transmasc non-passing) get it, there are genuine societal gender problems. transmisogyny does exist-women face more challenges than men do. but it genuinely hurts when women, especially trans women, think it's funny/quirky to call men trash or say they want all men dead or whatever. idk I just am hoping someone else understands, you know?

There's a lot of nuances to this question. First, I just want to caution against focusing too much on trans girls as the perpetrators of this. A lot of the asks I get from trans men seem to really fixate on trans women as the perpetrators of hard line gender essentialism. I really think trans girls are not the main people we should be focusing on here. If a trans woman is saying this stuff, take the time to analyze her ideology outside of that pithy comment and consider how much trauma and how little power she has in the world. That said, trans women are affected by this kind of ideology just like us, and they rarely have the power to wield it against others in the way cis people can. I know it hurts to feel isolated by your own community, but that kinda gets into my second point.

Part of dealing with this is learning an impulse progressive cishet dude have had to get used to over the decade. Sometimes, "men are trash" or even "kill all men" are not literal phrases. They are things women say when they're in the throes of trauma to vent their frustration. "Men are trash" in particular is generally pretty lighthearted and used to complain when you have a bad date or something. You have to get used to analyzing what someone actually means and airing on the side of empathy. You, as a man, are the one with some amount of systemic power over that woman, so you are the one who needs to prove you are dedicated to not being a misogynist. The same thing happens when my friends say they hate white people. I have to assume they don't hate me given that I'm their friend, but that I still have some of the negative traits of whiteness. I need to care enough to be a good friend by being anti-racist and checking myself on my behavior. I need to be willing to prioritize their comfort over mine. That includes not becoming this meme:

Now that that's established, there ARE times when "all men are evil and should die" is an actual ideology. It's an ideology that hurts tons of minority groups before it hurts the most powerful, but it's also not really great if we assume it only hurts cishet white guys. Following it to its logical conclusion, it just proposes a reversal of oppression dynamics. This gender essentialism is a key part of radical feminism, trans exclusionary or not, but it leaks out of that community to general feminism all the time.

As a young person on Tumblr and Twitter, this deeply affected me. I internalized the idea that you can "just be a girl." It was repeated by some trans girls, but also a LOT of TME people. It was framed as trans inclusive, but it's trans inclusive in the way "political lesbianism" is lesbian positive. It posits gender as a moral choice that is completely up to the individual and unrelated to biology. It's the lazy version of "gender is a social construct." I felt sick and disgusting for wanting to be a boy because tons of well-meaning friends of mine had made it clear that "being a boy" was a choice, and it was the wrong one. "Boy" was a social category that could and should eventually be eradicated. Trans women were conditionally supported because they, in theory, made this future possible. This didn't amount to actual support, of course. It was an ideology mostly spread by afab queer people that mostly benefited afab queer people. There were a few trans girls who spread it, maybe some due to genuinely believing in the ideology and some due to social pressure, but there were also a lot of people straight-up grifting as trans girls who used this thinking to feel powerful in a niche community of teens. Remember fucking Yandere Bitch Club???

At a certain point, I genuinely thought of being a man as an unambiguous moral failing, and I lashed out at out trans men because of it. I wanted to feel powerful, and here was a type of man in my community I could shame and exclude. I still feel bad for making a bunch of ~girls only~ stuff in HS that excluded the one out trans dude at our school, my friend, because he was just a ~binary man~ and leaving him with no friends and no community. I treated transphobia like it wasn't a real oppression on its own and, in doing so, perpetuated transphobia. It happens a lot.

I wasn't really able to accept that there was nuance to the concept of manhood until I read this article while struggling to accept my own gender:

This is a pretty seminal piece of writing. It has its flaws, of course, but the empathy and intersectionality it highlights was life-changing. It also shows that this kind of thinking is largely perpetuated by TME people and hurts trans women greatly.

Gender essentialism is a bad ideology, it's a transphobic, transmisogynist, racist, etc etc ideology. It's literally essential to patriarchy. But it's also very easy to repackage into leftism and easy to dogwhistle. As a result, it's natural to be hesitant when you see someone saying they hate all men, but you have to tread extremely lightly and actually care what they're attempting to express. Because, yeah, men as a social class still hold power over women. They still have reason to fear and hate men.

I'm writing a comic about this stuff, actually, so look out for it in the future..........

[transmascissues]

I know that saying T turning twinks into otters and bears is supposed to be positivity, but it feels excluding of those of us that didn't get those effects from T. Trans men can look all kinds of ways and I keep seeing posts that almost belittle the idea of trans men remaining like that after T, but some of us do. Lift up the ones who do turn into otters and bears and those that don't. It's already a point of dysphoria for a lot of people

it is not humanly possible for me to include every single possible transmasc experience in one post, nor is it my responsibility to try to. positivity for one experience does not equal negativity toward other experiences. if you want a positivity post for people who don’t get those effects from t, by all means make one and i’ll fully support you in that, but don’t treat other kinds of positivity as wrong just because they’re not for you.

i am a trans man who went from a twink to an otter on t, and i put that line in because that’s an aspect of my transition that i’m incredibly proud of. i’m allowed to do that, and i’m not required to fulfill some sort of quota of positivity for other people to make that okay. me showing pride in my body and bodies like mine isn’t belittling other kinds of bodies, and i would challenge you to really ask yourself why you interpreted positivity for other people as automatically negative toward you. sometimes some things just aren’t for you and that’s okay. i’m sure there are other parts of that post that did apply to you, as well as plenty of other positivity posts that do. and if not? make some! send them to me, i’d love to reblog them! every positivity post you see is just a trans person making the posts they want to see more of, and you can do the same.

not to mention, hair growth and weight gain on t are incredibly stigmatized. people constantly talk about how bad they think all the hair looks or how gross they think it is when we don’t shave, and gaining weight is something that’s pretty much always framed as a negative side effect instead of a desirable and euphoric change. people literally try to convince us not to go on t by saying “you’re not going to stay an androgynous twink, you’re going to be hairy and all your fat will move to your stomach and you’ll just look like your dad.” that’s a horror story to a lot of people; that’s the thing that they think will disgust us enough to decide we don’t want to go on t.

so if you see a lot of posts hyping up trans otters and bears, it’s not us saying other kinds of bodies aren’t as good, it’s just us pushing back against those narratives and saying “no, our bodies are good too, actually, and i’m glad t made me look this way.” that’s not to say there isn’t also a lot of negativity toward trans men who are smaller and less hairy; no matter how we look, people will find a reason to hate our bodies because they hate us. but you really can’t put the blame on trans otters and bears who just want to send a message that our bodies aren’t bad.

if seeing positivity for trans bodies that aren’t like yours makes you dysphoric, please understand that that’s a personal thing you need to learn how to deal with and not the fault of the people who just want to feel good about their bodies as much as you do. it’s okay to want positivity for your kind of trans body and i promise you those posts are out there, but you can’t expect every single one to cater to your specific experiences.

[unknownperson246]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE A FIC FOR IZZY WITH A BREEDING KINK HES SO FINE 🙏🙏

hii so sorry it's late but here it is.

Can't Wait

Words: 1,958

Warnings: *smut* *spanking kink* *breeding kink* *degradation* *losing virginity* *first time* *bleeding* *masturbating* *cussing* *phone sex* *oral sex* *m receiving* *p in v* *harder kinks* *reader is innocent and naive* *reader loses virginity*

✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ:*

It is the year 1988. You and Izzy have been married for 8 months now. You were a virgin. Not because you didn't want to have sex but it was because you were busy with academics early in your high school and college life.  You and Izzy had not had actual sex. You would only give him oral. But as soon as you wanted to try he had to go on tour. He was all over the place for 8 months. You have been so excited to see him come home after a long tour he went on with his band. You haven't seen him in months. All you could do was talk to him on the phone. Sometimes you both even had phone sex. You knew how to masturbate to his picture and to his voice telling you sweet things while you stuck your fingers in yourself moving them as they replicated Izzy's hard and stiff cock. Izzy would also masturbate to a picture of you and your voice on the other side at the same time. That way it was like both of you were in each other's presence. You're sad about only one thing. As soon as he comes home he is going to be busy with his band. He is making a new album called Use Your Illusion One with his band. They are going to be leaving on tour again soon and that makes you sad. 

 You are so proud of them. They have been working hard and they deserve a long break. You have been so lonely and sad when he is not around. All you do is sleep in the bed you share hoping he would come in your dreams. You do it so time passes quickly. You sleep while hugging the clothes he left behind. You spray his bottle of perfume on your bed and yourself and his clothes so you can awaken old memories. You always missed him. The day he comes finally has arrived. You have yearned for him for 6 months. You both love each other so much. He goes straight through the door frame entering the house you both share.

 He puts his guitar down and goes straight to you. You jump on him, hugging him tightly. Little did you know Izzy picked up a strange kink. Kids had never popped up in his mind for the future. He didn't even know he wanted kids. After he watched Axl and Erin's son run around and play hide and seek with both of his parents he envisioned having a mini you and a mini him running around the house creating havoc. In public, he hated chaos and havoc but having kids was different. He didn't think about their sticky little hands touching everything and how weird and tiny they were. He knew you felt lonely since it was only the two of you. He knew it would only be you when he left. You had friends and family but it wasn't the same as having a husband. 

“Izzy I’ve missed you. I’ve been so lonely” You coo in his ear while your arms and legs are wrapped around his body. 

He held onto you. He wanted to act on his ideas and thoughts he had when he was on tour with guns. 

“Well, what if I told you that we could fix that.” He said, smirking. 

“What do you mean?” You ask confused.

His hand went to your lower abdomen. He patted it a couple of times. You didn't know what he meant but it sent shivers down your spine when he touched you like that. You missed his touch. You still couldn't get his hint about him wanting to knock you up. He unbuttoned your jeans while he tugged your jeans downwards. He slid them off of you all the way. He dropped them on the kitchen floor.  He slowly started to undo your panties and he took you upstairs. You got his hint about wanting sex. You were nervous and excited about doing it with him. He knew you were a bit naive and innocent. He always saw you as a determined woman. It turned him on at how innocent you were. He knew that you hadn't had a conversation about wanting kids but he thought he would surprise you.  You knew how babies were made but you had no idea he was talking about wanting kids when he touched your lower stomach because it never occurred to you that he wanted one. He just didn't seem like the dad type to you.  He didn't tell you straight away because he wanted to keep his excitement about fucking you. He took you upstairs. He remembered that both of you went lingerie shopping before he left. He bought you the most sexy things. He bought you garters and a lot of silky lingerie for you to wear when you both fucked. He remembers where you last placed them. He pulled the dark red one out and made you wear it. He watched you take your shirt off. He saw your heavy tits and his hand went down to his hardened cock. He was trying to resist the urge to touch himself. He only wanted for him to be inside of you. His cock grew stiff. He only thought about how they would grow heavier with milk to feed his child. He started to moan lightly watching you change. Once you were finished he shoved you against the wall grabbing your wrists behind your back like he was a cop getting ready to arrest you.

“Lean on the wall slut. I bet you slept with other men while I was gone” He hisses in your ear. You stare at the bulge forming underneath his jeans.  He was hardening at the idea of impregnating you with his baby. He wanted to see you nice and swollen with his seed growing inside of your belly.

“How could I be a slut if I am a virgin?” You try to explain to him because you thought he meant those harsh and cruel words.

“Mmm. I love when you talk back you dirty brat” He grunts getting his hand ready. He was waiting for an opportunity for your mouth to open.

You feel his hand land on your bare ass. He kept attacking it with his hand. He kept spanking you over and over. You look up at the ceiling, losing count of how many times he hit your bottom. It was like the 40s in America where teachers would punish you by smacking kids with a ruler. You weren't in the 40s. You feel your pussy aching with lust for his cock. You feel your tits hardening. You felt your nipples get sensitive. You didn't know that it was called being aroused. You were craving it so bad. You weren't nervous about your first time anymore. The idea of getting you pregnant alongside the idea that he was going to take your virginity made him feral.

“Izzy I already feel so good” you whine to him as his hand strokes your ass.

You were confused because he was being so sweet to you in the kitchen. You didn't know much about kinks. You only were aware of a few of them. You felt yourself getting wet. 

“Izzy I feel something wet down there,” You tell him.

“Let it happen slut” He explains to you while remaining in his kinky self.

He undoes his pants and his fully cured cock springs out. He flipped you around to face him. You’re back is now pressed against the wall. You watch his cock dripping with his pre-come. He grabbed it with his hand making it turn into a hook shape. He put it at your entrance You feel the tip of his huge and thick cock touching your entrance. You felt shivers go down your spine. It didn't hurt but it felt new to you. You moaned as he slowly slid into you.

“I see your filthy cunt. I’m going to fill you up with my baby” He groans as he keeps hitting your g spot. His hips slammed into your hips as he thrust in you. 

“You're going to fuck a baby into me?” You moan while he keeps grinding himself against you.

You were turned on the idea of having a baby with your husband. “Uh-huh. I’m going to fill that pretty cunt up tonight. I can’t wait to watch your body grow to accommodate my seed.” He moans while he holds your hips. His hips kept slamming into yours.

His hand traveled up beneath your lingerie. He started to grope your tits underneath the lingerie. “These beautiful tits will feed my baby” He moans.

“Our baby” You correct him. 

After he hears your words he starts thrusting faster. He is determined to get you pregnant the first time you both try. The thought of his sperm getting into your egg wanted to make him come without even fucking you.  His fingers went down to your clit. He started fluctuating his pointer and middle finger on your clit as he pumped himself inside of you. He got off at the idea of taking your virginity. He thought of you as fresh and pure but not in a negative sense. You had your first real orgasm. You felt your stomach knotting up and you felt your toes curl. Your legs shook and you struggled to stand. You wanted to drop down to the floor. You restrained yourself from moaning and crying his name. You gave up. Both of your bodies get coated in sweat.

“Izzy” You cry as your hands go to his back. Your nails start to dig into his pale back scratching him. 

“Soon we will have a baby whore.” He moaned.

He kept thrusting inside of you. You felt your hips ache. His fingers were digging into your hips as his dick was curled up inside of you. You still wanted to drop down to the floor but you made an effort to keep standing up. He kept kissing your neck trying to distract himself from giving up. He kept on going no matter how good it felt. You come down from your high as you watch your husband’s head go back into the air. You saw his eyes roll. He was preparing to dump his wet load inside of you. You felt his seed coat the sides of your walls. You felt his seed travel inside of you. Izzy pulled out of you. His cock glistening with your slick all over it. White strings of both of you come mixed with your blood followed out.

“Lay down on the bed” He commanded. While his cock swung around. He was trying to protect his artwork. He wanted to be sure to get you pregnant the first time. In case it didn't work you both kept doing it 3 times a week.

You obeyed his orders and lay down on the edge of the bed. He finally took the lingerie off of you. You were now fully naked. He was watching your body as he smirked.

“So how was your first time?” He asked you. 

“It was amazing,” You say, catching your breath. He laid down beside you on the edge of the bed naked trying to catch his breath alongside you before he covered himself with the blanket on the bed. He held your belly imagining it getting bigger.

“I can't wait to hold our baby” He whispers in your ear. He reaches his arms out for your body and cuddles you. He nips at your ear and runs gentle circles around your nipples that are still hard.

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - I Need You To Need Me

I know what I said about posting more Man United fics, and I will 😅. Just know that every other post will be a Ruben Dias fic hahahah.

I have about a hundred Ruben fics in my mind and it only takes me thirty minutes to write them so....

Summary - Pregnant reader can't sleep because of back pain, this leads to a eventful night for Ruben and Reader.

Enjoy!

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"My back. It hurts."

"Do you need me to bring you something,  a hot water jug?"

"No, I'll rather just stand."

"What do you mean?"

You threw your feet over the edge of the bed, sitting up.

"Baby why are you getting up?" He sounded worried.

"I just want to stand up and see if it we'll ease the pain."

It didn't. You brought a hand to your back as the pain shot through your spine. Ruben was right behind you, jumping out of bed to prevent your fall.

"Thanks." You sighed, your body leaning against his frame.

"Baby please just sit down. I'll go get you somthing for the pain, perhaps a..."

"It's okay, Ruben. I just want to stand for a minute."

"Just stand?" The light from the moon carved out the shape of his face and his frown.

You nodded. "Just stand. Right here. Is that okay?" You liked the sensation of the cold floor underneath your swollen feet. And the view you had of Manchester city out side of your bedroom window wasn't too bad either.

"Do you want me to stand here with you?" Ruben asked, still holding you steady.

"If you want to."

He sighed and wrapped his arms around your belly, pulling you towards him so that he could rest his chin on top of your head. You stood in silence, facing the window, enjoying the view of the night.

"Your hair smells good."

You giggled. "Thanks, it's the new shampoo I'm using."

"Can I use it too?"

"If you want to."

He shrugged your body a little, turning you over so that you could see his face. He didn't look happy.

"What?"

"I hate when you say that."

"Say what?"

"If you want to." He mocked your voice.

You chuckled, unsure as to what he was actually implying.

"The answer to my question should be either yes or no not, if you want to."

"Ruben?" You were unsure why he suddenly appeared so upset.

"Try me." He said. "Ask me a question, anything and I'll answer it the way you do. Then you'll see how it feels."

"Okay. Um...what time is it right now?"

"If you..." He paused mid sentence. "Wait. Not that kind of question."

"You said to ask you anything." You laughed. It was cute, his need to always prove a point.

"No, what I meant is, ask me a question where the question can be either yes or no."

"Hmm, alright." You turned your body entirely, your pregnant belly caressing his visible abs.

"Can I kiss you?"

He shrugged. "If you want to."

You weighed on your toes to reach his lips, smiling against them. You still held your arms wrapped around his neck when you dropped back onto your feet.

"Another question?"

He shrugged. "If you want to."

You chuckled. He wanted to play.

"Can you take me for a shopping spree tomorrow?"

He hesitated, but gave a slight shrugg. "If you want to."

"I think I like this game."

He sighed. "I have failed to prove my point."

"Which would be?"

"I don't like it when you don't need me, I need you to need me."

"Oh, Ruben." You cradled each side of his face with your hands. "I do need you. Why would you even say that?"

"Because when I ask you if you need me to do anything for you, you always say the same thing."

"If you want to." You nodded. Hearing the words leave your own mouth made you see how this could be a little upsetting to someone like Ruben, who so often wanted to feel useful to you during your pregnancy.

"I know that you need me." He muttered, his cheeks soft in the palm of your hands. "But I also know that you really don't need my help with anything, at all."

"Can I ask you another question." Your thumb stroked his bottom lip. His eyes were glowing in the night, his lashes flourishing like the wings of a butterfly. He was so handsome, your husband.

"If you want to."

His eyes searched your face, seeing as you were looking everywhere but into his eyes. Once your eyes met again, yours were foggy and longing for him.

"Can you make love to me Ruben?"

His eyebrows fluttered in slight suprise. "What?"

"Make love to me Ruben. " You stood with your bodies pressed together, you could feel him wanting you in that way too.

"Y/N." He said, voice low. And you knew just what was on his mind.

"It doesn't hurt anymore."

"Your back?"

You nodded. "Feel it."

You brought his hand, guiding it down your back, letting him feel the curve of you. But you did not stop there. You kept guiding his hand downwards, not stopping until it reached your lower hip, eventually cupping the swell of your ass.

Ruben brearhed against your ear, fighting his own sinful urges. However you could already feel his need for you, his erection growing towards you, putting pressure against your belly.

"Y/N, I don't..."

"Can you please make love to me Ruben, yes or no?"

He exhaled, defeated by your cleverness to use his own point against him.

"If you want me to." He muttered, voice low but sharp against your ear.

"I wan..."

You gasped as your feet left the ground. Both Ruben's hands went to cup your ass, lifting you up and pressing you back against the window. That's where he left you to sit, on the windowsill, with your legs spread before him.

You wore a loosely fitted nightgown that his fingers clawed up your hip, reveling your naked thighs. His hands then went to tilt your neck, the back of your head knocking against the window.

"Ask me again." He groaned, his eyes barley visible in the dark.

"Fuck me Ruben."

He smiled, "That's not what you asked"

"That's what I want."

He let one hand slip between your thighs, teasing your clit with the tip of his fingers.

"Ruben please, I'm begging you."

"Sshh." He sushed you with a stroke of his finger, the same finger that had just been between your thighs. "I don't want to make it too rough." He said. But he was already sort of grinding his hips against you, his bulge putting pressure where you wanted it the most.

"Ruben, plea..."

He shushed you again, this time by slapping his hand against your mouth. The begging, you know what it was doing to him. It was becoming hard to resist you.

"I said I don't want to make it rough, please don't fight me on this." His stare was intense, eyes glossy yet determined.

You nodded your head which made him trust you enough to remove his hand from you mouth.

"Make love to me then."

His hands went under your knees, scooping you up into his arms. You saw the glimpse in his eye and he winked. "If you want me to."

[hongtiddiez]

my stand in final thoughts, feelings, etc.

what an absolute ride of a show. what a series of ups and downs and downs and downs and up.

i think what i find so charming about this show is that it really exemplifies what it means to be human. each character was flawed in their own way and each made mistakes that at the end of the day were just human mistakes. no one felt like a mustache twirling villain but rather a flawed human being that got caught up in something bigger than themselves, or caught up in their own ego, hubris, etc.

in a show that was clearly framed to be about second chances i really did not expect the wide array of examples of different second chances in life - the obvious being joe and ming, but then there was joe and new!joe's mother, ming and his mother, tong and may, joe and sol, etc. almost everyone experienced a second chance of some kind with one another. almost all second chances worked out towards a positive outcome but i respect that some were neutral outcomes at best; a total reset. a second chance doesn't always mean total forgiveness and absolution but rather a new slate to try again and i really appreciate that MSI made it a point to showcase that.

i am also once again grateful that the show did not fall into the evil mother trope. i was gritting my teeth waiting to see what became of ming's mom and in the end both she and joe's mom were parents doing their best, wanting the best for their children, and stumbling along the way - another perfect example of humanity.

i couldn't even come to fully hate tong by the end. the industry inflated his ego, he felt indestructible, he was able to get anything he wanted with his connections, and he allowed that confidence to turn to hubris and got involved in something far bigger than himself. a scared, cornered beast will almost always lash out and at the end of the day tong was lashing out for any chance of survival. he needed a wake up call of catastrophic proportions to get his head on straight but throughout the show they did show us reminders of how much he loved may, little glimmers of who he was behind all of that, and by the end when he was able to find peace those traits shone through again.

and with ming i appreciated that he still felt like the same person. he was still an asshole, still rough around the edges, still who he was at the beginning of the show but his efforts were channeled elsewhere, his priorities changed, and he learned what he truly values out of life. joe didn't magically change ming, but he did alter his perspective and give him so much to consider.

i still cannot fathom the pain joe has to go through every day looking in the mirror and knowing he will never see his face looking back at him. the show teased little peeks of the affect this would have on his mental health and i wish it had maybe delved into that more but mental health is always a slippery slope.

for the grit and darkness of the show the ending felt a little too fairy tale for me but i was also kind of hoping joe didn't come back. i know, horrible of me, but if i was him? i don't think i would've come back. he had to be so, so tired and he'd been through so much, that part of me wanted to see that happen as a final nail in the coffin, a message that sometimes death comes for us no matter how hard we try to run from it, and sometimes death is a kindness at the end of a long and painful journey.

idk i'm also a slut for angst so ignore me.

i wasn't mad at the ending by any means, i enjoyed the little nods to potential side couples, i loved seeing things come full circle, loved joe's realization that while HE always saw himself as a stand in or someone overlooked everyone else remembers his past self fondly and he made an impression on them. in the end, so much of joe's self worth issues were his own insecurities exacerbated by ming's emotional abuse.

that being said, don't forget to tell people in your life how much they mean to you. it can mean a lot more to them than you can imagine.

definitely think MSI is my fav bl of 2024 so far, it was something unique and a little darker, more mature, all things i've been craving for a while.

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Codename Bravo

Oneshot Summary; Price finally tells you about task force 141.

Pairing: Cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Onehsot 

Word; 5.1k

Warnings; mentions of abuse/torture, mental health discussion, PTSD-triggers, kind angsty with fluffy ending ngl

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

A/N: This turned out much more angsty than I'd imagined, but I think it progressed their relationship in a good way.

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

"Love", you answer John's call with a hum from his en-suit, massaging in the last product of your morning skin-care routine. Your eyes flicker to the doorway in the mirror when he steps into it, leaning against its frame. His hands dig into his jogger's pockets as he does. 

You fan your face, trying to help the moisturiser dry quicker, greeting him with a small smile. 

John's hair has grown longer, not as neatly chopped during his home visit. He's probably racked a hand through it as he left the bed or pulled on his jumper, trying to neaten his bedhead, concerning it seemed to have hastily been swept upwards and to the side. 

"Have any plans today?"

"M'no". You turn, blue eyes following you when you walk forward. As you stop before John, you raise your hands, brushing your fingers over his face to gently rub any residue cream onto his skin. His nose scrunches, instinctually closing his eyes, making you chuckle.

"Done with your onslaught?" John asks when you drop your hands and he cracks his eyes open.

You peck his lips, mindful that your still dewy skin doesn't come in contact with his. "Yes". You smile, walking back to the sink to wash your hands. After flicking the access water from them, you reach for the towel hanging beside his.

"Thought about somethin'", he begins and your eyes find him in the mirror as you cock a brow. "Think I'm ready". Your hands halt their movement of running between the fabric. You look over your shoulder, holding the towel rather than drying your hands.

"You mean?"

John nods. "Have thought about it and I've decided, wanna talk to you about... everythin'".

"Yeah? Alright", you quickly dry your hands and turn to him. 

It's been two weeks since the visit at the pub that brought not only a guy trying to hit on you but the ordeal Ghost helped you through. You hadn't brought it up afterwards. Or at least you hadn't asked John about what he would consider sharing, not wanting to pressure him. 

Your man had, however, expressed how much it meant to him. Not necessarily through words, but he spent considerably more time with you, if it so was while cooking or if you did any routine of yours. He also touched you more, arms anchoring around your waist at each given opportunity, kisses pressed more frequently to your forehead, lips or neck, a hand always resting upon your skin when you sat together watching a movie or doing your separate things.

But you hadn't talked about it. The incident, if you may. You wanted to, yet left it up to John to decide the when. And that seemed to be now. 

You walked over to him, hands settling on his waist as you looked at him. "What do you say about taking it downstairs? I can make us a cup of tea?"

His smile was warm when he nodded, agreeing to the idea with a kiss to your hairline, aware of your freshly fixed skin.

You try not to work yourself up. Try not to imagine what John might tell you. And still, there's a jittery feeling in your body disturbing the otherwise slow air of a weekend morning. 

You can't help but look forward to John opening up about his work, filling the gaps he intentionally left vacant and those you didn't want to speculate about. At the same time, what should you expect?

Your fingers tap against the kitchen counter as you watch the kettle boil, hot steam billowing from the opening. Your eyes fall to the little plastic bit still pushed down and shining blue. Soon done, you think. 

You're so focused on the kettle that you don't even notice the man who slides up alongside you until an arm circles your waist and breaks your attention.

Glancing to your right, you find John standing there. 

"Nervous?" 

"I... yes, no?" Your brows furrow. "I just don't know what to expect", you shrug, offering him a smile.

His blue eyes search yours, head tilting. John gently tugs at your waist so your body angles towards his. When it does, his other arms also circle your waist. Your hands naturally fall to his abdomen, sneaking under the knitted sweater he's wearing. Even the walking heaters seem unable to withstand the late autumn temperatures that creep into his house. 

"Never asked if you felt ready to talk about it. If you don't, we can take it another time?"

"Been ready for a long time, John, don't worry". You shake your head to dissolve any worry of his. "Just don't want to make you uneasy by reacting badly or something", you admit sheepishly. 

The military has ingrained many things in him, minor and not-so-minor ones. Some you know, others you don't. One of the ones you'd picked up on was that he always worried about others before himself. Captain, your mind whispered each time you noted it. He was used to caring, leading others, shouldering their safety. You didn't need to know about the things he guides his subordinates through to admire him for it. And yet, you knew that at the moment, John worries more about you than himself.

And the fact is he shouldn't. John was the one who needed to become comfortable enough with even the thought of speaking about anything concerning that part of his life. You can only imagine it hasn't been easy despite not noticing he's behaved differently. So, for him to finally take the step of fully explaining things to you? You didn't want him to regret that choice just because you've grown unsure of yourself.

It wasn't crippling doubt that crept into your bones while you've been waiting for John to determine when he's ready. Even so, you've replayed what happened at the pub, wanting to know more about what may be the cause. You'd felt powerless then, not knowing what was happening or how you could help. You haven't thanked Ghost. But, you're grateful for how he'd stepped in, not knowing the result of the situation otherwise.

"If you're expressionless the whole time, that would worry me more", John chuckles, keeping your gaze with a soft expression in his eyes. "Don't worry too much about your reactions. I want you to tell me if it gets too much or if you have any questions. Can you do that for me, eh?"

"Promise", you nod. He smiles, ducking his head to press a lingering kiss to your lips, pleased with your reply. 

What breaks you up is the tick of the kettle, signalling the water has reached the simmering temperature adequate for a cup of tea.

"Go sit down. I'll bring these over". You leave another quick peck on John's lips before stepping out of his arms towards the two awaiting cups.

"Spoilin' me this mornin', are you?" You roll your eyes as he presses a kiss against your temple when he passes.

"Rather making you comfortable", you look over your shoulder as John heads to the living room. That softness in his eyes grows warm, the crows-feet in the corner of them becoming more prominent as he returns your smile.

Preparing the tea, you catch John rummaging behind you. You put in the teabags and a dash of milk in John's cup. As you walk to put back the carton in the fridge, you throw a look in his direction. 

The man who always prefers milk in his tea when he's home, concerning it's not a luxury he always gets when deployed, is currently tending to a fire. He's kneeling before the fireplace, apparently having had an easy time with the wood and matches as the flames flicker with an orangey colour, lightening his face in a warm glow.

Returning to grab the cups of tea, you head over to join him. 

You hadn't envisioned this being how your morning would play out, but the crackling fire adds to the relaxing atmosphere and eases whatever nerves you previously harboured.

When you stop by the couch, John has left the fireplace and walked over to join you. You hand him a cup before settling down on the plush pillows with your back leaning against one of the armrests. He follows, naturally sitting down only to lift your legs and shuffle closer, draping them over his lap once comfortable. 

You momentarily place your mug on the coffee table, reaching for the blanket thrown over the backrest close to your head. You unfold it over the two of you, John accommodating your shuffling by raising his mug to not spill any of the liquids inside. Not until you settle down again with your cup in hand does he cock a brow at you.

"Cosy?" The firewood crackles and you tilt your head sideways against the couch's back, hands clutching the warm mug in your lap.

"Yes", you answer with a smile. 

You raise your cup, sipping the warming blend as you watch John, waiting for him to start talking. But he sits in silence, one hand repeatedly skimming up and down your blanket-covered shin. His eyes had shifted to the fire. The flames lighten his eyes, making them appear as if the blues in them are alive. From how he keeps quiet, your brows knit together.

"If you have changed your mind, that's alright". Your voice is gentle, reminding John you're taking this at his preferred speed. His eyes return to you, brows raised.

"No", he waves his hand dismissively, holding his mug steadily on your legs with the other. "Just... gatherin' my thoughts. Don't really know where to start". John's sentence is a short chuckle followed by a shake of his head. He knocks his head backwards, resting it against the couch's upper ridge, tilting his face towards you.

You hum in return. "One day, you can maybe tell me your backstory. But today, it's enough to brief me on things you consider essential to know".

This time, John's chuckle is genuine as he nods. His fingers tap against the mug in a quick rap of each digit beside his thumb hooked in the ear.

"You know I'm a Captain, part of SAS". He brushes past the things you already know. "But, there was a reason I said we ain't technically affiliated with the army the first time we met and ain't only because of bein' special forces".

You remember the initial reluctance and a later lighthearted but brief description of their profession. "How so?"

"You were onto it with that clever mind of yours. There's a reason we spend so much time together". John's head cocks to the side and you understand he refers to the absent presence of Ghost, Johnny and Kyle. "I handpicked the lads".

Your head cocks. "For what?"

John exhales heavily, eyes flickering away as he raises his mug to his lips. He sips the tea, leaving your question to hang in the air until he turns to face you again, gaze locking with yours. 

"Taskforce 141, a multinational coalition comprised of various top members from special forces specialising in counter-terrorism. The British SAS is one of them". Your eyes widen, that you hadn't anticipated.

It wasn't a light fact that John dropped on you. It wasn't 'I'm just in the army' or 'A soldier in the SAS', both of which you would've understood why he didn't want to go about mentioning to every soul he meets. But this? Captain in a task force only assembled by special forces? It explained a whole lot more.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" You blink out of your stupor, not noticing your eyes have dropped until you raise your gaze to John's again.

He was tapping his mug, watching you closely, gauging your reaction.

"Just... that it makes sense", you chuckle, briefly glancing down at the mug in your hands before your eyes find his. "I hadn't guessed it, but at the same time, I'm not surprised".

He smiles at that. "Said it, too clever for the pretty facade". You shake your head at how he squeezes your leg, the side of his mouth tugging upwards.

"Despite that, I have a question", you return. John nods, encouraging you to ask. "You mentioned you handpicked them. Feels like you need a high-level authority for that?"

"I am a Captain", he quips, making you nudge his thigh in amusement. Both of you knew that might not be the sole requirement to choose who gets selected for such a task force. "Had a part in launchin' the 141 a few years back, too many loose ends for my likin' that ought to be tied up, which makes me highly involved in who gets picked".

You make an ah sound before speaking. "So the others, why them?"

"The lads have all advanced within the SAS. I met Ghost when he first enlisted and worked with him a fair share while he rose through the ranks. Soap and Garrick, I discovered later but still early on in their careers, came to work with the latter a lot when he became a sergeant", John explains. You can't help your smile. He's talking proudly of them.

"So you lot are the core of it then?"

The corner of John's lips twitches upwards as he hums. Before answering, he raises his mug to his lips. "Can say that, at least of the British branch", he says once he swallows his tea.

"What other branches are there?" He sends you a look, one that isn't hard to decipher. "Let me guess, classified?"

He hums an affirmative in return. "Some things are, even to immediate family. Other times, it's more of a safety thing. The less you know, the less valued you are". 

Your brows furrow. Something about how John said it made an uneasy feeling infiltrate the air.

"What do you mean by that?"

"In our line of work, there's a reason not everyone entertains a life outside the base, not more than a functionin' one. Some view attachments as dangerous". 

You swallow. "Why?"

"We soldiers are a different kind, ought to be", he shrugs. "But, we also deal with desperate and dangerous people, and when those people also want power, it can go south quickly". John's voice is even, factual, as he explains the circumstances. "Some don't dare evolvin' civvies with that".

"What's your view on that?" You watch him closely.

"I'm sittin' here with you, love". John's smile was gentle as he rubbed your shin over the blanket. "Got worried?"

"For a second, yeah". Accompanying your reply is a sigh of relief.

He offered you a gentle smile and squeeze of your leg. "Bigger chance you'll leave me".

Your frown at him. "Why would you say that?"

"If you haven't noticed, I am an old man in the military." John chuckles, but the sound grates your ears. 

Despite you teasing him of the occasional back pain or just for amusement, John isn't old. You'll remain firm on that belief. So what his sentence insinuated didn't sit right with you.

"Sure". It's more you filling the silence than affirming anything as your thoughts process. John's lightheartedness is a poor attempt to mask how his eyes avert from yours after the sentence. It's fleeting but enough for you. "Is that something you worry about? Genuinely?"

John looks momentarily taken aback. His brows shoot high on his forehead, lips dropping from the mug's rim a second before he lowers it. He looks at you through his peripheral before facing you fully, gaze locking with yours. He must see it then, the same seriousness contorting your features in concern as what previously laced your voice. 

"Have passed my mind, yes", he exhales the truth. Sinking further into the couch, the hand at your leg stills. He looks forward, eyebrows setting while his tongue swipes over his bottom lip.

"Do you believe that, John? That that's a reason I would leave you for?"

"Enough of reason in my ears, love".

"Then, well, you're going deaf". Blue eyes find yours. "I won't leave you for a reason that ain't true. Sure, you've been a soldier for long enough you've become a Captain. But, in my book, you're definitely not an old skeleton sitting on an army base".

"Might as well be. The shit we see-". John shakes his head. "It just sticks with you sometimes, hollows you out, s'hard to let go and not always the easiest for others to handle".

"Is that what you feel like?"

"I feel like I don't want to burden you too much with it". John rubs your leg again, smooth motions up and down. For your sake or his, you don't know. "If not for what happened at the pub... would probably not have this conversation already. Afraid it might scare you off".

You clench and unclench your fingers around your mug, playing with its ceramic ear as you watch its liquid contents swirl. There's a part of you that shrinks at that. You feel bad. 

Did he think you would walk out the door the second everything isn't sunny days? Was that why he needed time to think about telling you?

A hand enters your vision seconds before a gentle nudge against your chin raises your head. Blue eyes meet yours and you see how John has leaned closer. 

"Remember, speak your mind", he gently reminds you of your earlier promise.

You sigh with a nod, and he drops his hand to your thigh. John remains near when not retreating to his previously upright position. 

"I hope you didn't feel forced to have this conversation".

"I felt ready". John doesn't hesitate when he answers.

"So why say we wouldn't have had it if not for what happened?"

"Can't say the military is known for lettin' you open up about how you feel", he exhales. "So it's hard to do it other times as well, despite suspectin' you wouldn't shun it after the pub".

You can't help but think about what happened at Marissa's place. How John initially had been so adamant about repressing what triggered him, his frustration and shame for reacting like he did. You do understand it better now. Nonetheless, a gnawing sensation nestles in your skull when you learn that if not witnessing what you did, John would probably have continued to bottle things up. 

He'd mentioned how he hadn't let go of something from his last deployment, how something still was fresh enough to rip open like an invisible wound. You didn't know the things you now do back at the pub. Despite this, it hurt you that John thought he had to carry that weight himself. 

"I know we talked about how hard it was for me while you were away when you returned. But we never-". You bit your lower lip. "I never asked how you got on, not more than briefly. I know it probably would've been too soon to ask then, but concerning what happened at the pub, did everything really go to plan?

He swallows harshly, giving you a curt nod. "Can't tell you much... but said it went well, and it did. We pursued some leads that brought us to somethin' we've been lookin' for". John turns his head, looking into the fire as he continues. "Also found somethin' we hadn't anticipated, the thing that held us up", he motioned with his fingers as if referencing the conversation you had over the phone the day he returned to base from two months of no contact.

And then, he grimaces, lips curling into a thin line as his hand comes up to drag across his beard. 

"The men we were after grew paranoid, believin' someone sold us information concernin' how close we followed them. They weren't mistaken, but they looked in the wrong place. We found a base with civilians, beaten up quite badly. All of them...". He lets out a painful huff and a single shake of his head. "All of them were women".

The corners of your lips fall downward, a heavy feeling settling in your chest. A glum sensation, almost tasting round and cold in your mouth, washes over you. You feel for John. You feel for what he witnessed. 

You sit up, placing your mug on the coffee table as you bring one of your legs from his lap, crossing it in front of you so it rests along his thigh. You reach forward, placing your hand upwards on John's leg, letting him be the one to initiate contact. 

You don't have to wait long before one of his hands lands on yours, his fingers intertwining and giving you a single squeeze. 

Relief washes over you when John doesn't pull away, likewise when he turns to look at you. Even though he must have been distant, reliving the moment he described, the faraway look previously evident creating the perfect blank slate to reflect the fire as if mirroring his memories. He's with you now.

"The lad at the bar... it triggered the memory of when we found them".

It isn't hard to follow the same path John's mind must have. The man. His raised hand. You. Those civilians. Even you could see the eerie resemblance to what he witnessed not more than a month before during his deployment. 

Now, both your hands hold his, cradling it as you rub delicate circles with your thumbs before you raise it to your lips. You press a soft kiss over his knuckles, right atop the little strips of silver marring his skin.

"I understand". You murmur against John's hand, leaving another gentle kiss before you drop it to your lap, continuing the soothing motion of your thumbs. 

John sighs, leaning forward to let this mug join yours on the table. When he settles back into the couch, he turns his body towards you. You shuffle to accommodate as one of his legs joins yours on the couch. Even so, the knee of his bent leg rests partly on top of yours. You don't mind the weight, not when it makes John feel closer to you.

He lets you hold his hand while he worms his other beneath the blanket and your joggers, seeking the slightest bit of your skin to graze as he readjusts your leg, now resting closer to his hip.

"Sometimes it just feels like it never stops, so neither can you. It's hard to go home, take time off and rest when you know they don't do the same. Far too easy start thinkin' about, and then, it can overwhelm you". You nod, showing you understand. "S'what happened at the bar". 

"Should I assume it's stress-related?"

"Somethin' along those lines. I don't struggle with the disorder type. Med-evals cleared those. But despite years in the field, some missions are always harder to let go of immediately after comin' home". John admits. Now, his thumb draws circles into the skin between your thumb and index finger.

"How does it- did it feel?" You ask with a tilt of your head, referring to the only instance you can relate to. He'd hastily explained it in the confines of Marissa's office but must still have been high-wired from the sensations.

John's brows draw together and he purses his lips, possibly contemplating how to answer.

"Feels like gettin' stuck in your head when you shouldn't, like too many thoughts which provokes adrenaline. But, it's no productive thing, mind battlin' itself as you know it's not needed while still gettin' the injection. Feels like a quiver here-", John points to the spot not far from the top of his ribs, right between his pecks. "-fight or flight bein' on the verge of explodin' and already fadin' all the same, an unsettlin' feelin'. At the pub, there were too many connections, similarities with our mission". 

"You know, I may be good at reading people, which helped me notice something wasn't right that night, but that only helped me so much. I didn't connect the dots, I guess because I couldn't place what was happening, never seen it before". You shrugged, defeated.

"It's not a big shift for the eye, but it's noticeable if you know what to look for", John explains before adding, "The more you're around it, the quicker you notice".

"I... I need to admit, John, I think it was a long time since I felt so helpless", you confess, head dropping forward as you remember how it felt having John standing there seeming so far away. "I could do nothing but watch Ghost help you, not knowing what was happening. I felt so out of my depth". 

You feel a hand on the side of your neck then, raising your face with the help of the thumb notched beneath the hinge of your jaw. As you lift your eyes, you catch how John had ducked his head. He didn't need to say anything this time for you to speak your mind.

"I tried to help, but it didn't...". You trail off as the image of John shying from your touch while accepting Ghost's flashes on your frontal lobe. The image creates a lump in your throat that you try to swallow. 

"Please, love", he coaxes you, brows knitting together upon your grimace. Disliking the pleading look on John's face, you release an unsteady breath before you speak. "It kinda hurt seeing how you reacted to Ghost compared to me". Despite trying to keep your voice strong, it grew small at the end of the sentence. 

Something flickers in John's eyes as you stare back at him, something that creates a fogginess hiding away the glint in those blues.

"I understand, but know that I didn't want to". John soothes, voice the most delicate you ever heard it. "I saw you, heard you...though when your brain slowly diverts to the same thought pattern as on the field... it gets hard not reactin' like that. With all the time I've spent with the lads, you grow used to differentiate them from others".

You must have done something that suggested his explanation wasn't what you wanted to hear as panic flashed deep in his eyes. His lips part, probably about to apologise, either for his wording or something else.

"I know I can't fault you. I know that. I'm not upset about the fact". You intercept before John has the chance to say anything. "I understand that Ghost, fuck, even Kyle and Johnny know what you're going through and can catch onto it quicker to help you out of it. I understand there's a different bond between the lot of you that I can't copy. It's just that I want to know how I can help you if something like that happens".

John swallows, eyes flickering between yours. "You're not wrong, but I don't want that kind of bond with you when I have a different kind". 

John couldn't be more glad you didn't enlist. If not for the selfish reason that he probably never would've met, and even if so, entertaining a relationship would've been difficult, maybe even inappropriate. Then, because he knows the army robs any man or woman enlisting from their former self and future normalcy as if permanently hooked up to IVs with terrors or troubled insides.

"Love, I want you to know that you give me something they do not. You give me peace". John raises your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss against it. The bristles of his beard tickle your skin when it drags across his chin as he drops it into his lap. "You might not steer me through those episodes like Ghost can and did. What we know- what we do, is the same as in the field when softness is no alternative, when momentarily reprieve is the only choice. But, you can help ease me through them-".

"But how, John, how do I do that? I tried to touch you, but you flinched away. You didn't respond when I talked to you and gave me no sign you heard me. My options were running low, if not non-existent". The words tumbled out of your mouth as you tried to make your point through the desperate emotions the conversation roused.

"I-". John stops himself, momentarily looking to the side. He takes a deep breath that he exhales before facing you again. "I can't swear it's a one-solves-all remedy. But, talk to me at first. If you notice touch doesn't work, set it aside for a while and when you try again, begin with non-critical places. Today's a good example. Take it slow, be gentle, leave it as open as possible for me to take the step", he jiggled your intertwined hands.

You bite your lip, looking at your hands. "I guess today was easier because I knew this may be a touchy subject and no matter what kind, you can't brute-force those. Last time took me off-guard", you breathe out, eyes returning to meet the blues already watching you.

"M'not holdin' it over you. Just grateful you didn't tuck tail and run".

"I wouldn't do that". John watches you, scanning your face with a soft look, replacing the look of self-doubt and worry now fading from his eyes. 

His left hand drifts to your cheek, thumb brushing your cheekbone before he beckons you closer. You follow his request and he meets you with a kiss. 

His fingers curl into the back of your head, massaging with slight presses into your neck muscles. You exhale through your nose, falling further against him. Knowingly or not, he helps work the nerves out of your body with the gentle pressure changes. 

John is the one who pulls away, but you don't mind when he keeps himself close by letting your forehead rest against one another.

Your eyes are still closed when you speak. "Thank you for opening up". 

"All because of you, love".

"No need to flatter me". You lean away, smiling kindly, voice light. John's eyes flutter open not long after, his blue eyes happier as they shine in a way you hadn't seen before.

"I'm serious". John's hand presses against the side of your face briefly. "You help me relax, slow down the thoughts, make me feel present". John's tone is steady, eyes never averting from yours as he speaks. 

A warmth rises in your chest, blooming to envelop your ribcage. Your cheeks gradually strain from how your smile slowly unfolds, from a pout to pressing your lips together in a line that soon bows upwards. The way it does when words are too sweet and immense to accept quickly.

The slow unfoldment mirrors the feeling in your chest and you can't help how the weight of emotions turns your words into something between a choke and a laugh. "Oh, John". 

Your hand lifts to his, holding it as you lean into his touch. Some of your fingers sneak beneath his hand, resting against his rough but warm palm, while your thumb settles on top of it. As your head tilts against the couch's backrest, it traps your hands close. You can't move your thumb much, but you draw a circular motion into his skin the best you can.

You gaze back at John. There are slight creases beside his eyes, those crows-feet. At the moment, the smile tugging his lips brings them forth. The blue of his irises seems to shine, to be alive. They're glittering in a way that isn't entirely thanks to the fire but from something inside.

You want to spew everything welling in your chest. How grateful and proud you are of John. How much this conversation mean to you.

Yeah, you wanted to tell this man all the feelings he roused, feelings you hadn't felt in a long time, if ever.

[writingquestionsanswered]

how can i make a fake framed traitor out of an extremely kind, virtuous and genuine character that the main character trusts wholeheartedly? what could i use to make the MC and reader be like ‘yes this is unlikely but unfortunately makes sense’ just to make a reveal later?

Making a Framed Traitor Seem Genuine

There are three things you can do to make a framed traitor seem like they're genuinely a traitor...

1 - Make the Motive Make Sense - Any traitorous act must have an underlying motive... the reason that anyone would commit the traitorous act to begin with. So the key is to find a way to make that motive make sense for that character, no matter how random it may seem. Like, maybe a side benefit to committing the traitorous act is a cash windfall, and maybe the framed character also happened to recently mentioned being in need of cash for some legitimate reason. It may not mean they're guilty, but the motive fits.

2 - Sweeten the Pot with a Little Plausible Deniability - Try to think of some additional coincidental thing that will make them look even more guilty, but which also gives them some plausible deniability. Like, maybe one of the orchestrators of this traitorous act also happens to own a popular night club in town. And maybe the framed character is known to never go to night clubs, ever, but maybe one night they were peer pressured into attending a barely known co-worker's bachelorette party, and during that party they got separated from the group and had to wander into several different nightclubs trying to find the group again. And maybe they happened to wander into the bad person's nightclub without even knowing it, and were spotted going into said nightclub by one of the about-to-be-betrayed friends, which obviously looks very bad for the framed person. Because now, in addition to having a reasonable motive for the betrayal they are accused of, they've also been seen in a place that suggests an association with one of the other perpetrators. And although they have the plausible deniability ("I didn't go there because I wanted to... I was looking for the group I was with...) there's no way they can prove that's true.

3 - Drop a Few Other Subtle Hints - That may be enough to make your character look guilty when they're not, but if you need to, you could drop in one or a few other hints earlier on in the story that accomplish the same thing on a more subtle level. Something that will look bad in retrospect but hardly be noticeable at the time. Like, maybe one of the soon-to-be-betrayed friends invites them to their slam poetry reading, and the framed person texts at the last minute that they can't come because they have to work late (which is actually true), and then later the group will learn that Team Bad did some big thing that night. At the time it seems like nothing, but in retrospect--thinking that framed-character was involved in the traitorous act, now it makes sense that they missed the slam poetry night because... of course! They were actually with Team Bad doing the bad thing they did that night. Again, this wouldn't occur to the characters or reader at the time, but when connecting the dots in retrospect, it all adds up. Of course, the reality is it was just a coincidence and they really were at work that night.

Just be careful not to go too far in making them look really guilty. You don't want to weight them down with so many coincidences that look bad that they always look a little guilty, even once absolved.

Happy writing!

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[sweetbillwriting]

In The Dead of Night

Prologue

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen it yet.

Warnings: 18+

Notes: This is really just inspired by Bill Skarsgård's looks as Eric, nothing else.

The black leather in my hand cut into my palm, and as a reflex, I pulled on it to take back control. If I had been able to decide, we would have bought a softer leash for the dog, but Robin had refused. He wanted something more sturdy.

I looked at Odin, our big black Labrador, in front of me. He was just 14 months old and thought I went too slow and that I was a snooze fest, but I tried to teach him to be a good boy, but he wasn't interested.

"Please, can you take him for a while?” I asked Robin, who walked next to me. He made a whiny sound because he used both his hands to fan his warm face. It was a high temperature for being at the end of May, and he didn't handle heat well.

“We should have just let him stay at home," he said with a grunt, taking the leash from my hand. Odin noticed at once that a new, more uncontrolled hand had taken the leash and lurched to gain more freedom, but Robin took control fast and wired Odin into his side instead of letting him walk in front of him like I did.

“I thought your mom had become afraid of dogs?” I asked carefully when Robin and Odin got along. Robin looked at me with his face red from heat but also sunburned. We had been friends for two years, and every summer he got the same shade over his forehead and nose bridge.

“I thought so too, but the nurse said she asked about him. She will probably be terrified when she meets him. He's such an asshole,” he joked, but patted Odin lovingly over the head. I laughed a little and smiled a bit to myself. We had bought Odin together, and he lived with us every other week, like he was a kid traveling between divorced parents, but Odin didn't need to worry about fighting parents because his parents, me and Robin, were the bestest of friends.

"Della?"

“Hm?” I looked up at Robin again. I had disappeared into my world of memories and dreams and hadn't heard him.

“I just want to say again, so you remember, that mom can say some weird things sometimes, and she doesn't mean anything with it and her memory-”

“I know, I know, Robin. I know.” I took his hand in mine and smiled reassuringly. “It's okay. I get it.”

I had never met Robin's mom before. She lived in a home for the elderly even though she was just sixty-five. She had a stroke two years ago, and since then, she has not been herself. It was obvious it pained Robin a lot, but he didn't want to talk about it, so I let it be. He would talk about it the day he felt ready, and this day he was ready for me to meet her. I was a bit nervous because I hadn't met anyone who had been through such a thing and was afraid she would be mean or say something strange that I didn't know how to react to.

The home looked like a smaller institution, but with red brick and apple trees around it. It was obvious it had always been used as an institutional building, but they tried to make it look more welcoming for the elderly with trees and other greenery surrounding the house. Odin started at once playing ball with a small apple and looked at Robin sourly when he kicked away the fruit from him. I thought Robin could be a bit too strict and boring with Odin, but I knew he would just call me too soft if I said something.

Robin held the door for me, and I walked in a bit nervously. I didn't know what to expect, so I looked around.

“Della?”

“Yeah?” I turned around and looked at Robin, who had said my name. He pointed to a sign by the door, with a dog crossed over with a big red cross.

“Do you want to wait out here while I talk to a nurse?”

“Yeah, sure. I walked out again but took a final look at the entrance's cheaply framed posters of colorful birds.

I sat on the ground with Odin while we waited for Robin. Just to look a bit more respectable than I normally used to do, I wore a floral dress that stopped under my knee; otherwise, I mostly dressed in a pair of sweat-shorts and a tank top, but I didn't want to look like that meeting Robin’s mom. Robin was always nicely dressed, and if I understood things right, his mom liked clothes and nice things too.

Both me and Odin looked up at Robin when he came out of the door. He was dressed in beige chino shorts and a white linen shirt. He always looked fresh.

“She's in the backyard, so we can go around the house,” he said, pointing with his thumb to the left. I nodded a little, and together we walked through the apple trees.

It was a nice backyard with several groups of wooden furniture and flowers in terracotta pots. Older men and women were spread out in the yard, together with staff dressed in light blue scrubs.

“There she is,” said Robin, and he nodded towards a woman sitting next to a nurse in her fifties. His mom was short, with chubby cheeks and blue eyeshadow. I had expected she would look a bit more beige, but she was dressed in a bright purple tunic with white culotte pants. She gave us a big smile when we walked toward her. I was dragged by Odin, who tried to run towards her. He barked loudly when we came up to her, and I could feel many worried looks on us.

“Oh wow, that's a big boy,” laughed Robin’s mom, who looked at Odin with big eyes. I couldn't say if she was afraid or not, but I held him by my leg, refusing him to say hello to her.

“Yeah, he's so much work right now…” Robin sighed and then gave his mom a hug, who had stood up with her arms spread out. The nurse gave us a little smile before walking away.

“Mom, this is Delilah, my friend.”

I smiled at her and put my hand out, even if I would have rather have held Odin’s leash with both hands.

“Girlfriend?” She said with a smile.

“No, friend. I told you that,” said Robin, a little irritated. He was probably irritated and sad over the fact that she at once started to mix things up.

She shook my hand and introduced herself as Lotti, and I smiled my sweetest smile.

“Can I say hello to Max?” She said with a smile, and I looked at her, confused. Robin took a deep breath and then took Odin's leash.

“Max was our rottweiler when I was little. This is Odin, mom.”

His mom looked up at him. She looked confused but smiled anyway, then leaned down to say hello to Odin while Robin held the leash short. It was obvious she got a bit scared, but she just laughed at her own fear.

The nurse, who had been sitting with Lotti earlier, fixed us a table to sit by and also served us all three coffees. It was nice, especially when Odin decided to lay down instead of jumping after bumblebees. Robin told his mom about the hair salon both he and I worked at and about weird customers, and he told her I was a little sister to the boss and owner. I didn't say much because I hadn't worked for several months but didn't want to talk about that with his mother; instead, I just let them talk with each other.

“How is Eric?” Asked his mom when they had come to a natural stop. I looked at Robin with a small, curious smile because I didn't know who Eric was at all. Robin gave me a quick glance. His brows had knitted together, and he sucked his lower lip the way he always did when he was upset.

“Mom… You know, I don't want to talk about that,” he said with a low gaze. His mom looked at him. It was hard to read her because she looked both confused and understanding.

“Oh yes…” she said and nodded. Robin looked at her and laid his hand over hers. When she met his eyes, it seemed like she remembered what he meant.

“He's dead…” she whispered, looking at their hands. Robin didn't say anything; he just sat with his head low. I didn't know what to say because in front of me sat two grieving people, and I wasn't prepared for it at all. After they had looked at each other for a few seconds, Robin took a deep breath and instead asked his mom what she was reading right now. Slowly, they started to talk naturally again, and I could be a part of the conversation, but it felt like something was hanging in the air over us. Even if the sun shone brightly on a blue sky, it felt like a pitch-black thunder cloud hung above us.

×××

While Lotti went to the bathroom, Robin and I sat silent by the table, watching Odin bite in the grass hysterically. He was a lot of work, and if I hadn't been on sick leave from work, I would never have had the energy with his wild behavior.

“Eric is my dad. She forgets all the time he's dead,” said Robin suddenly, and I looked up at him. He continued to look at Odin, and it told me he couldn't really look at me while talking about his father. I had understood his father was dead, but he had never mentioned it, and it wasn't my place to make him talk.

“Oh… I understand that it must be hard…” If we had been sitting closer to each other, I would have given his hand a comforting squeeze or something, but now we sat on different ends of the table.

“Yeah… He died of cancer just a year before her stroke, so I guess it's understandable.”

“It must be hard for you…”

Robin shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah… But I have my uncle; he's really close. On my mom's side.”

I gave him a little smile, even if he couldn't see. It was tragic that he didn't have any reliable parents when he was just 35 years old, and on top of that, he was an only child. I would never understand his loneliness. I had three siblings and two healthy, engaged parents.

We sat silent until Lotti came out again, carrying a floral dress on a hanger.

“I think you and I might have had the same dress size, Delilah... Robin said that you like vintage.”

I was surprised she knew that and smiled at her, then at Robin, who smiled timidly too.

“What do you think about this dress? If I had a daughter, I would have given it to her, but the most important thing to me is that it gets a new life.”

She held up the dress for me. It had thin straps and a wide skirt. It was probably from the 80s, but with its silhouette, it could have as easily been from the 50s.

“Wow, it's amazing!” I said standing up. I gave Robin a look to see if it was okay and if I had a real interest in it. Maybe he wanted to keep it for another friend, but Robin just smiled.

“Come in with me so you can try it!” Said his mother, enthusiastically, and I laughed shyly. She laid her hand on my back and gave me the hanger, but Robin stopped us before we could walk into her apartment in the elderly home.

“Maybe you can try it at home? We can't go in with Odin,” he said, nodding his head towards the dog.

I gave Lotti a little sad smile, but she looked at her son with annoyance.

“I want to see it on her! I think you can handle being alone with the dog for a moment!”

I looked between them, and Robin gave me a begging look.

“I will do it fast.” Said I to him after seeing Lotti’s hopeful look at me. I really liked the dress, and I got nervous that she wouldn't give it to me if she couldn't decide.

Robin didn't seem to know what to say, and before he had answered, Lotti had given me a friendly push towards the door to the home, and I let her lead me in.

×××

Lotti's home was a one-room apartment with a view over the same yard we had been in. It was obvious it was an interior from her previous home because it stood tight in the room, in different styles and colors. Everywhere, there were frames with art and posters, especially with Asian themes. Robin had told me he had been in Asia a lot when he was younger because his parents loved it, so it didn't surprise me. I walked around, looking at the decorations and her beauty products and jewelry spread out over a messy vanity table next to the bed. Then I looked at the big photo over her bed. There were two men, around twenty-five years old, standing next to each other in front of a viewpoint. You couldn't see much of the view, because the young men were in focus. One of them was almost a head taller than the other and had a look that made it impossible to stop staring at him. He was dressed in a black t-shirt, and almost all the skin you could see was covered in tattoos. His hair was black and stood messy up in different directions. He even had a tattoo over his eyebrow. “Lullaby.”

If I were to say that it was because of his dark look that he stood out, I would have lied because the thing I looked the most at were his eyes. His big, green eyes. They looked sad and wise, like an old man's, even if he probably wasn't over thirty in the picture. They were framed with smudged black eyeliner that made them stand out even more, especially against his clear, alabaster skin. He was beautiful. Model-handsome and at the same time otherworldly beautiful, with high cheekbones and full lips.

The young man next to him paled in comparison to him. It was Robin, dressed in a white button-down and his strawberry blonde hair styled to a perfect backslick. I gave him a fast look, but my eyes got sucked back to the other man quickly. It felt like he lured me in.

“Who is the tall guy?” I asked Lotti without letting him go with my eyes. Lotti didn't say anything while she walked up to me, and then she stared at him the same way I did.

“That's Eric. My other son.”

I turned to her, shocked, even if I could feel the green eyes on me. Lotti breathed heavily, and with a shaky, tearful voice, she said:

“He’s dead.”

×××

Green eyes.

In the dead of night.

×