#and i am gleefully clapping my hands about it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherrycola27 · 1 year

Text

Red, White, and Rooster

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

Specific Chapter Warnings: Violence against women, torture

...........................................

Chapter 15: The Great War

You groaned as consciousness slowly made its way back into your body. Everything hurt. Your head was pounding, your mouth was dry, and your body felt stiff. "Ugh," you sighed as you tried to sit up from the wooden floor.

You slowly blinked to take in your surroundings. You shot up as the memories came back to you. You tried to stand but were quickly pulled back down thanks to a set of handcuffs that were attached to the floor beside you.

"Well, look who's finally awake, and just in time." Someone said. You snapped your head in the direction of the voice. "You." You sneered as Preston Baxter strolled into the room. "I should have known you were behind this!" You growled at him.

"Of course I'm the one behind it. I'm the only person who's life you ruined, aren't I? Or are there others?" Preston asks as he tilts his head to the side.

You flare your nostrils and tug on the cuffs.

"Now, now, don't hurt yourself." Preston chuckled.

"How are you out of prison?" You demand. "A good lawyer and a temporary insanity plea." He states before grabbing a chair and walking over to sit in front of you. You slide away, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible.

"Well, aren't you going to ask me how I did it?" He says.

"How you did what?" You spit at him.

"How I kidnapped you silly." He exclaims.

"Okay, I'll bite. How'd you do it?" You ask him. You've seen enough action movies to know that if you get the bag guy talking, they might slip up and tell their plan.

"Well, first off, I had my baby brother Alex hack the White House so he could get himself a job on the security team. He forged all the documents and changed his last name to not raise red flags. After a few months, he was put on your detail. I waited for the right time until we had an opportunity. Once we had it, we took it." Preston tells you gleefully.

"You've been in prison. How were you able to plan all this?" You ask him

"You see, that's the thing about prison. It gives you plenty of time to plot your revenge. I spent two and a half years perfecting this plan, and you're not going to ruin it for me this time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ransom call to make." He claps his hands.

"Ransom call?" You question him. "Yes, while kidnapping you is a great revenge arc for me, extorting your husband for money—it just sweetens the pot," Preston says before getting up.

"The president doesn't negotiate with terrorists, foreign or domestic." You spit at him.

Preston, let's out a breath. "In normal cases, he wouldn't. But he's already proven that when it comes to you, he doesn't think rationally." He tells you before Alex brings him a phone that looks like a brick. He taps his foot before the call connects.

"Hello, am I speaking to the president? Wonderful. Well, Mr. President, I'm not going to mince words. We both know that I have your wife, and if you ever want to see her alive again, I'm going to need one hundred million dollars wired to an offshore account. I just sent the information to Mr. Rodriguez's email." Preston says into the phone. There is a pause before he sighs and brings the phone closer to you. He clicks a button before holding it in front of your face.

"They want proof of life. Gone on. Let them know you're alive. But don't try anything stuipd." He urges you before placing the phone on speaker.

"Bradley. Bradley, Dearest. I'm alive. I'm okay." You assure him.

"Sweetheart, I'm going to get you. I promise everything is going to be okay." Bradley tells you.

You shoot your eyes up at Preston. It crosses your mind that Bradley might not know who took you, so you do the exact thing that you knew Preston wouldn't want you to do.

"Preston Baxter and Alex are the ones who took me!" You shout into the phone. Rage flashes across Preston's face. You continue to yell as he takes the phone away. "Don't give them a dime, Bradley! Don't give them—" a harsh slap across your face sends you tumbling to the floor.

"Didn't I tell you not to do anything stupid you bitch?" He sneers as he crouches down next to you on the floor.

He grabs you by your hair and pulls your eyes up to meet his. "I hope you know just how much I'm going to enjoy making your life hell." He tells you.

"Fuck you." You growl before spitting in his face. He roughly drops you, and your forehead makes contact with the wood floor. You curl up, protecting your midsection before he gives a swift kick to your ribs and exits the room.

After a few minutes, you find enough strength to sit up. You drag yourself until you're leaning against the wall. A few tears prick your eyes, but you will them away. You won't let them see you break. You place a hand on your stomach and stroke it. You weren't sure how you were going to make it out of here alive, but for the sake of the child growing inside you, you knew you'd have too.

.................

It had been six days since you had been taken. News of your kidnapping had hit the mainstream media, and tips from all over the globe were coming in. Bradley made sure each one of them had been followed up, but nothing had come from any of them.

He sat at his desk with a now cold cup of black coffee, a copy of the Times, a stale muffin, and more cigarette butts than he cared to count. Dark rings framed his eyes, and his five o'clock shadow had morphed into a three a.m. blackout.

"Jesus, Rooster, you look like shit." Jake said as he came into the Oval Office to check on him.

"Well, Hangman, please forgive me for not looking front page ready while my pregnant wife has been missing for almost a week." Bradley snapped back.

Bradley saw the hurt face across Jake's face. "I'm—I'm sorry. I can't eat, I can't sleep, and we are no closer to finding her than we were a week ago. I'm going crazy Jake. Every tip we get gives me some hope, and then when it doesn't pan out, I'm back to rock bottom again. The only helpful information came from that couple who saw the abandoned car at that rest area. They said the SUV that was leaving was headed south. Do you know how many places are sound of D.C.? And what if they aren't even in the country anymore? It was hours after she went missing before the first call came through. And the ransom call wasn't until the next day. She could be anywhere in the world right now!" Bradley sighs before sinking back down in his chair.

"How the fuck did we not know that Preston Baxter was released? How did we end up hiring his brother for her security team?" He sighs.

"I did some digging, and apparently, his little brother is a genius. Graduated from MIT, ran a software company, but ended up getting mixed in with the wrong crowd and did two years from hacking a bank in the Midwest. IT found a hole in the White House firewall. They think he hacked a server and forged his information to get him a job here." Jake tells Bradley.

"I feel like this is my fault. No, I know this is my fault. If I had never run for president, none of this would have happened." Bradley sighs as he rakes his hands through his hair.

"You can't blame yourself for this Rooster. If you hadn't had done this, you never would have met Wise-woman. You never would have married her or made a kid with her. He'll, I wouldn't have met the love of my life either. It's not your fault. Y/N is smart. She left those notes for us. She told us who took her. She's going to be okay. She's strong. She's a survivor. She's a Bradshaw for crying out loud. Now, you might want to shower and fix your face. Yout in-laws and Mav and Penny just got here." Jake said as he patted Bradley on the shoulder before leaving.

Bradley did what Jake said. He took a shower, cleaned up his face a bit, and put on fresh clothes.

He wanted to shoot himself in the foot when he came face to face with your mother. He could tell that her tearful words and sullen expression were more of an act than anything. He'd tried to get in contact with them the day he found out you were gone, but they were in Greece and had finally decided to join in the search now that it was getting national attention. Your father seemed genuinely concerned, even offering to to man the tip room phone lines if that would be helpful.

Maverick and Penny tried their best to comfort Bradley. That evening after they had come to the White House, Bradley pulled Maverick and Penny into the Oval Office to tell them you were pregnant. He swore them to secrecy. It was on a need to know basis, and your parents were not in that loop.

Later that evening, Maverick made a few phone calls and called in a few favors. There wasn't much the Navy could do, but if Bradley needed them, Pete Mitchell would make damn sure the entire Dagger Squad would be ready for him.

...............

It's nine days after your kidnapping that Preston reveals the true reason why he has taken you. You're woken from a fitful sleep by the sound of a table and chair being slammed on the floor in front of you.

"Rise and shine sleepy head." Preston calls as he pulls you to your feet and plants you in the chair. Alex brings a laptop and places it in front of you before opening it.

"What do you want me to do with this?" You gripe.

"I want you to use that fancy security clearance you have to log in and get us into the encrypted server. Once we are in, my dear brother is going to steal something more valuable to us than you." He tells you.

"Nuke codes. It's always nuke codes." You breathe out. "Why would you need those?" You ask him.

"Let's just say that before I was in prison, I made some deals with some shady people. I borrowed a hefty sum of money, amongst other things, and promised to pay them back in nuclear codes once I was chief of staff. However, you came along and wreck those plans. Now that they know I'm out of prison, they are demanding I pay up. So, get me those codes." He demands.

"Can't your brother get them?" You ask him. "Unfortunately, the security is too good. Alex can't hack it, he's tried." Preston informs you.

"Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but when you become First Lady, you don't get top secret clearance. My information doesn't work anymore." You cross your arms.

Preston slaps you hard enough to knock you out of the chair. He grabs your and jerks you up. His fingers dig into your arm.

"You wanna do this the hard way, fine, will try again tomorrow." He says before twisting your arm and leaving.

After two days of him not giving you any food, you realize that Preston is going to try and starve the information out of you. He tried beating it out of you, but the bruises on your face and arms are proof he didn't get anything. When the third day comes, you're almost ready to break. Not for you, but for your child.

When the door to your room unlocks, you expect him to come in again for another round, but instead, it's Alex, and he's carrying a bag.

You scamper to the far side of the room, trying to put as much space as you can between the two of you.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Alex says as he holds his hands out like he his trying not to spook a wild animal.

"I brought you something to eat." He tells you as he brings the bag over and sets it next to you before walking away and sitting down on the floor across from you.

It's not a five-star meal, but you gladly tear open the pack of beef jerky and chips he brought you before gluping down some of the water that's also in the bag.

"Preston is out checking in with his parole officer and running some errands in the city. I went to the little gas station a few miles away to get this for you." Alex tells you.

"I know it isn't good for pregnant women to get dehydrated or starve." He says. You pause mid chew and look up at him with wide eyes.

"How—" you can't finish the question.

"I saw you leaving the clinc that day. And you got sick the first couple of days here. Don't worry. I'm not going to tell Preston. He's already done enough to you." Alex shakes his head.

"Why are you helping him?" You ask him. "I'm the reason he owes so many people money. A few years ago, I was trying to prove to some buddies of mine how good of a hacker I was. I stole money from the wrong people. Pres, he—he kept them from killing me. I owe him." Alex shrugs. You can see in his eyes that he never intended for it to go this far.

"I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry. You didn't deserve this." Alex tells you before getting up and leaving the room.

Your eyes drop back to the plastic bag in front of you. There is a sleeve of powdered donuts and some peanut butter cups inside and another bottle of water. You grab the candy, and that's when you notice it. A small slip of white paper. You grab it and realize it is a receipt from the store. You quickly read over it and smile. There, printed in tiny black letters is the name of a town and a state. You know where you are. Now, you just have to figure out how to let Bradley know.

Two days later, Preston brings the computer set up back again. Only this time, when you refuse to do anything, he pulls a gun from his waistband.

"Recognize this?" He asks you as he cocks his head to the side. Of course you recognized it. It was the same one he'd tried to kill you with once before.

"Type in your information, or I shoot you." He states coldly.

"You and I both know you are going to do that." You tell him with a smirk. "And why wouldn't I?" He sneers.

"You're not going to kill me because you need me. You can't get the codes or the money without me. You've been sending Bradley dated proof of life videos every two days. If those stop, what makes you think he won't track you down and blow you and this shithole off the face of the earth?" You state. "Me being alive is the only barging chip you have. You may be dumb Preston, but I don't think you're stupid." You say.

"Shut your mouth before I blow your brains out." He threatens you.

"Just make sure you don't miss this time." You laugh as he cracks the handle of it across your face.

"Type. Now." He demands. And for the first time, you give in. But you purposefully type your password wrong. You know that after five incorrect log-in attempts, your account will be locked, and cyber security will be notified. You are praying that they look at the attempted passwords. Each one you type in is a bit of information about where you are. After the fifth attempt, the screen goes black.

"See. I told you. My credentials don't work anymore." You smirk as you point to the screen.

Preston shoves you out of the chair and screams. "You fucking bitch. You did this on purpose!"

"No, I didn't! I don't have access anymore!" You defend yourself before his fist makes contact with your face.

"Fine. If I can't get the codes from you, I'll just have to get them from your husband. Maybe a good old-fashioned torture video will be just this thing to motivate him." He says before storming out of the room.

..................

"Mr. President!" Dante yells as he bursts into the Oval Office. Bradley shoots up and looks at him. He can tell Dante has news.

"Sir, we think we know where she is." Dante breaths out. Bradley sucks in a breath as he waits for him to explain.

"It appears she tried to log on to the White House server, but used the wrong password five times and locked her account. IT looked at each incorrect attempt to see what was going on because they knew the activity was suspicious. Each one is a clue about where she thinks she is. Look." Dante says as he hands a paper to Bradley. He reads it. "North Carolina, RidgewoodFalls, House, GasStation, Help." He says.

"We looked into the town and found out that a few months ago, an old farm in Ridgewood Falls was bought in cash by someone named Peter Brandon. We think that might be the alias Preston is using. We are currently working to get a rescue team together. The only issue is that the farm is near the town. We have to be careful going in without alerting him." Dante says.

Bradley agrees before dismissing Dante. He leaves his office and makes his way to the bedroom. He sits on the bed and grabs the framed photo of the two of you from your summer in San Diego. He touches your face and twists his wedding ring. "I'm coming for you, Sweetheart."

Two days after finding out where you are, almost seventeen days after you were taken, the White House receives a video of what they think is proof of life. Instead, they are met with the sight of you tied to a chair and gagged while Preston breaks three of your fingers and punches your face until its bruised and bloody. It ends with demands for nuclear launch codes in addition to the ransom money.

Bradley's blood boils as he watches the events unfold. He throws the coffee he is drinking across the room, and the mug shatters into a million pieces before he screams in anger.

He demands that the Navy SEAL team that Dante and others were organizing be sent in immediatly to extract you. Dante informs him that it isn't so simple.

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE WHAT IT TAKES! If you won't have the SEAL team go in and extract her then you'll leave me no choice but to fly Air Force One to North Carolina so I can get her myself!" Bradley screams before slamming his hands on the table.

"Sir. I understand your frustration. But we haven't been able to arrange air coverage and support for them. We need jets and pilots and don't have them yet.

"You need jets and pilots? Well, why didn't you say so. Bring me, Rear Admiral Mitchell. Now." Bradley says as people scramble out of the room.

"Mav," Bradley begins as he enters the room. "Is Phoenix sit the commander of the Bush carrier?" He asks.

"She is." Maverick answers. "How fast do you think we can get the Dagger Squad to Norfolk? They are the only people I trust for this mission I'm about to send them on." Bradley says.

"I made some calls. They were stationed there last week. Just in case." Maverick tells him.

"Thank you, Mav." Bradley says before calling for Dante.

"Dante, I need a secure line set up now. I need you to get me in touch with Captain Natasha Trace on the U.S.S. Bush in Virginia. You need a team of pilots. I'll get you the best damn team in the entire world." Bradley says.

"Sir, with all do respect, how do you know that they are the best?" Dante asks him.

"Because they aren't just any old team of fighter pilots, Dante. They are my team."

Taglist: @daggerspare-standingby @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @hecate-steps-on-me @roosterscock @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @seresinsbabe @startrekfangirl2233 @soulmates8 @xoxabs88xox @avengersfan25 @blackwidownat2814 @loveforaugust @mak-32 @cottagecori @amysteryspot @heyimmadisonn @princess76179 @bradshawseresinbabe @sunlightmurdock @lewmagoo @cassiemitchell @die-cunt @shipinabluebottle @malindacath @violyn20 @imawkwardlysoc @books-for-summer @blackroseboulevard @recordblues @desert-fern @luckyladycreator2 @katieshook02 @samhapner6 @sebsxphia @roosters-girl @diorrfairy @je-suis-prest-rachel @mizzzpink @a-linabean @amklibrary @gretagerwigsmuse @jstarr86 @actuallyazriel @krismdavis @bradshawsbaby @wkndwlff @dakotakazansky

457 notes · View notes

propertyofkylar · 5 months

Text

teasing your best friend kylar until she snaps <3

f!kylar x f!reader

cw: yandere nonsense - stalking, kidnapping, drugging. dubcon, victim blaming

word count: 2107

Getting to be your best friend was a gift. No, gift was too light of a word. It was the absolute honor of Kylar's life.

She could easily convince herself that life was alright as your best friend because she got to be by your side all of the time. Then, she could go home and work on her drawings of the two of you being in love and more.

But lately, it was getting to be too much. And it was entirely your fault. You knew what you were doing to Kylar. The too-short skirts. The unbuttoned shirts. The lingering touches and kisses to her cheek. Yes, it was all too much for Kylar.

Honestly, she figured she could handle it. But the fact was that there were still other people to worry about. Every time Kylar saw you smiling at someone else or placing a hand on their shoulder...Kylar thought she might explode from rage. Why would you even bother looking at anyone else when she was right there, willing and ready?

At this exact moment, Kylar was standing by the school entrance, watching you talk to someone. She couldn’t even see clearly who it was from the distance, but she knew she fucking hated it. She seethed as she watched you laugh and toss your hair back. What was wrong with you? Why were you even talking to someone other than Kylar?

It made her so angry. First of all, didn’t you know how bad people were? Kylar had tried so many times to warn you, but you always laughed it off and said you could handle it yourself. But clearly you couldn’t, Kylar thought as she reached into her bag and wrapped her small hand around one of her darts. Carefully hiding it in her fist, she took a deep breath in and ran up to you.

“H-hi!” Kylar said, trying to look casual. Her heart skipped a beat at the way you turned and smiled at her. She should be the only one to see you like this. “Um. I-it looks like it’s going to rain...can I walk you home?”

“Yeah, sure,” you gave Kylar a pat on the head as you spoke, which made her blush. “See ya at home, Robin.”

She took your empty hand in hers and the two of you began walking together. “What’s up with you?” You said to her teasingly. Kylar’s grip on her dart tightened. “You seem nervous. Am I that hot today?” You bumped your hip against Kylar’s.

Kylar didn’t answer, just took in a sharp breath. Your smile faltered. “Seriously, Ky. You good? You look kinda off…”

“’m fine,” Kylar muttered.

You frowned, but didn’t push the matter. “Okay…”

Kylar’s eyes darted around as she walked with you, growing further away from everyone else. When you were getting close to her place, she stopped suddenly.

“What’s up, Kylar?”

She bit her lip and pulled her hand away from yours to point behind you. “What is that thing? Do you see that?”

“Hm?” You spun around, and Kylar’s heartbeat quickened. You took the bait! “What are you--ow!” Your words were cut off as Kylar stuck the dart into your neck, and you wavered a minute before starting to fall. She grabbed you and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” Kylar whispered. “But it had to be this way.”

Kylar softly stroked your hair as she sat in your lap. She had watched you in your sleep plenty of times before - during sleepovers and otherwise - but getting to snuggle up to do while doing so felt like a treat. And when you started to stir, a rush of excitement ran through her body.

“Mm?” You blinked groggily and started to look around. Kylar had given you a very strong dose of her homemade sedative, so she wasn’t surprised at this reaction. “What am I...huh? What's happening...?” You tried to move, but were unable to. Kylar had made sure to tie you to the chair extra tightly.

“My love is awake!” Kylar said gleefully, unable to stop herself from clapping her hands together in joy. She buried her face in your neck and smiled against your skin. “I am so happy right now.”

“What...?” Clearly you weren’t getting it. “Kylar, what's going on?”

Kylar pulled back to look in your eyes, which were...filled with fear, for some reason. She frowned slightly. “Sorry. I had to make sure you wouldn't go anywhere. And now you're here and all mine!”

You blinked slowly. “You...did this to me?”

Kylar sighed. She figured it might take you a bit to get used to it. “I had to, my love! You wouldn’t listen to me about the world being bad. And you…” she felt angry just thinking about it. “You were being mean! You were teasing me and flirting with me and I…” Kylar shook her head. “This is what’s right. This is what’s meant to be! Just the two of us together.” She sighed happily and leaned her head on your shoulder.

“Kylar…” she sat up eagerly, anticipating what you had to say. “Man, what the fuck?!”

Kylar felt like her heart shattered. Didn’t you want this too? Isn’t that what you had meant with the teasing?

“I mean, seriously. What the fuck!” You continued. “What am I supposed to do here? You tied me up. Just…what the hell?”

Kylar clenched her fists, feeling anger rise in her, replacing the devastation she had been feeling moments ago. What did she do wrong? No, no. It was the rest of the world that was the problem. The two of you were literally meant to be. Kylar was sure of it. She inhaled sharply and pulled away from you, standing up. You didn’t get it. Clearly, you just didn’t. She had to make sure you understood.

“No…” Kylar mumbled, shaking her head. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to work. It’s not.”

“Can—” your voice was hesitant. You could sense Kylar’s instability. “Can you let me go, Ky? And maybe we can talk about this?”

“No!” Kylar snapped. “No! We don’t need to talk. It’s just the two of us, okay? This is how it’s supposed to be! You don’t get it. That’s okay, my love!” She lit up with a crazed grin. “I can make you get it!”

Kylar bent over your body, digging her nails into your thighs, as she leaned in and kissed you. You tasted just as sweet as she had always imagined. She would have probably enjoyed it more if you had been a little more willing, but she was okay with waiting until you got to that point. Kylar pulled away slightly with a happy sigh. “My first kiss…” she whispered, before leaning back in and kissing you again.

Your lips were soft and unmoving. You weren’t fighting back, thankfully, but you weren’t exactly participating. Kylar moved one hand from your thigh to grip your jaw, shoving her tongue into your mouth. And when your tongue brushed against hers, she felt you shudder.

Kylar squirmed as she kissed you again and again. She had wanted this for so long, and now she had you completely alone.

With a giggle, she pulled back to unbutton your school shirt. She tugged the front aside and reached a hand to squeeze your tit. “You’re so pretty,” Kylar mumbled as she pinched your nipple. You yelped, and it made Kylar giggle more.

“You didn’t even wear a bra! Naughty,” Kylar grinned. “Don’t worry. You can touch mine, too.” She quickly unbuttoned her own shirt and pulled her bra off before glancing back down at where your hands were tied. “Oh. Maybe not this time. I don’t know if you’ll run away or not…next time you can touch me!”

Kylar continued kissing you, pressing her lips against yours but also all over your face and neck. She was breathing heavily and she knew that no matter how you tried not to show it, you were feeling the same.

“Relax, my love,” Kylar mumbled before licking your neck and biting down. You squeaked. “I love you! I know what you need!”

She kissed your mouth some more but managed to pull herself away. The whimper you let out at the separation made Kylar’s heart flutter. But she had bigger plans than just kissing.

Kylar stood up and took a step back before dropping to her knees. Heart racing with excitement. She flipped the front of your skirt up and the sight made her gasp.

“No panties, either!” She grinned up at you, taking in the shy blush creeping up your face. “You really do want me. I knew it. Don’t worry,” Kylar cooed, sliding her hands up your thighs towards your wet, glistening folds. “It’ll feel good.”

She looked up at you again. You were squirming and breathing heavily. A pang of sympathy rolled through Kylar - it must be pretty uncomfortable to have your wrists and ankles tied up like that while Kylar was about to pleasure you. But she shook off that thought. She wouldn’t have had to tie you up if you hadn’t teased her so much. You deserved this, she reminded herself. It was an unfortunately necessary punishment.

Kylar bit your inner thigh and felt the muscles clench around her head. She wanted to savor this feeling. Then, feeling so excited that she might burst, she licked your wet cunt.

“So sweet,” she mumbled as she licked again and again, feeling you tremble. Kylar braced herself with one hand on your thigh and with the other, slid two fingers into your hole.

“Kylar,” you whined, and hearing you sound like that was immediately the best thing Kylar had ever heard. She was determined to draw that sound out of you as many times as she could.

She wanted to remember everything about this moment. Ideally, of course, the two of you would end up doing this over and over for the rest of your happy lives. But this moment was special. It was your first time together. So Kylar took in everything. The way you tasted. The way your thigh muscles clenched with every stroke of her tongue. The feel of your fluids on her face. The sound of your fingernails scratching against the arms of the chair. It was all beautiful and perfect to Kylar.

She looked up at you through her lashes and the two of you made eye contact. You looked beautiful with your hair falling around your face. Your cheeks were red and there was a look in your eyes Kylar had never seen before. Desire.

With renewed vigor, Kylar used her tongue to spell her name against your pussy, flicking your clit every few seconds and humming happily at the moans that fell out of your mouth nonstop. Maybe by writing her name on you, it would subconsciously remind you that Kylar was all you would ever need.

“K-Kylar,” you gasped. “I’m gonna…”

That was all Kylar needed to hear. She gripped your thighs with her hands as you bucked against her face, riding out your orgasm. Kylar eagerly lapped up every last bit of fluid that came out of you. And when you were finally spent, breathing heavily, Kylar pulled away and grinned up at your, her face sticky with your cum.

She almost went back in for more, wanting to make you cum again and again until you forgot about the rest of the world. But when she took in your heavily-lidded eyes and rising chest, she paused. Your post-orgasmic bliss was the most gorgeous thing she had ever seen.

Kylar clambered up and plopped herself into your lap, throwing her arms around your neck. “I love you,” she smiled, putting her head back onto your shoulder.

You were quiet at first, but then cleared your throat. “That was, um,” you began. “That was your first time doing that. Right?”

Kylar nodded quickly. “Did I do okay?” She suddenly felt anxious. She wanted to make you happy. She hadn’t considered that her lack of experience could impact that.

Instead, you blushed again, turning away shyly. “Yeah. It was really good.”

Kylar’s joy came back and she couldn’t help but let out a squeal.

“It’s because we’re perfect together,” Kylar smiled, pressing kisses to your cheek. “We were meant to be. We don’t need anybody else. Just each other. Isn’t that great!”

Kylar giggled more as she continued kissing you, her hands roaming your body. You didn’t respond, but you didn’t need to. Kylar knew you wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon.

#your honor she's literally just a girl. she did nothing wrong #degrees of lewdity #dol #kylar the loner #dol kylar #writing #kylar x reader #dolgl #<- hello just saw this tag and wanted to join in. hope u guys like #cw yandere #cw drugging #cw kidnapping #cw stalking

115 notes · View notes

beansprean · 2 years

Text

Accidentally made the extraordinarily terrible Empress Theresa required reading for this comic lmao (don't read it tho). Definitely a big meal for our boy.

My Familiar’s Ghost part 27

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Wide shot of the music room, Colin Robinson sitting in the foreground with Nadja standing in front of him. He is wearing a beige party hat and clapping gleefully as Nadja, also wearing a beige party hat and scowling in confusion, reads aloud from a book titled “Empress Teresa”. The cover is a clumsy painting of a woman with long black hair in a military uniform. Nadja reads, “I was the princess of the Surr-llivan clan of F-Framing-ham, Mass… Massen-choots-test? Because besides being cute I was a whiz in school and had a good disposition. All the relatives expected great things of me. Nobody could have dreamed of what I would do a few years later, and nobody would have believed it if they’d been told.” In the background, Laszlo, also wearing a beige party hat, is playing the Hamsterdance on his harpsichord and looking back at Colin with a smile. 1b. Close up of Laszlo at the harpsichord as Nadja shrieks from offscreen, “Laszlo what the shit is this?!” Laszlo calls back, smiling, “Try to make it through the first chapter, my darling! We did promise the boy a re-do party.” Ghost Guillermo phases into the room from an adjacent wall, tugging on his fingers nervously as he smiles at the scene. He is not wearing a beige party hat because he can’t, but the ribbons of wraith energy behind him are smooth and subdued. 1c. Reverse shot over Guillermo’s shoulder as Laszlo turns to him and offers a nod of acknowledgement, as close to a thank you as Laszlo can give. Guillermo nods back with a smile. In the background, Nadja pulls the book close to her face and continues reading, “Churchill, Hitler, and Lincoln will be footnotes in dusty history books a thousand years from now, and nobody remembers Charles Martel who saved Chri-“ She pauses and gags on the name, trying again with a different inflection. “Chhheeerrryyy…” Colin, sitting in an armchair across from her, says “Pace yourself, Nadja.” There is a jumbo tub of Legos in his lap and he is dropping prices purposefully on the floor. Nadja doll is slumped comfortably in the adjacent loveseat, wearing an identical dress to Nadja’s along with a beige party hat and grinning slyly up at her counterpart.

2a. Bust of Guillermo as he watches the scene, hands tucked behind his back and smiling with affection and satisfaction. Offscreen, Nadja snaps, “Colin Robinson, this is the most terrible book I have ever read!” Colin replies happily, “Yes, it is.” 2b. Repeat. Guillermo’s eyes flick over to the side in surprise as he notices something across the room. Offscreen, Colin continues, “Start that paragraph over, I missed it.” Nadja shrieks in frustration. 2c. Waist up shot of Nandor as he enters the room through the open curtain, fingers fiddling together and beige party hat strapped to his head. He looks up in surprise, meeting Guillermo’s gaze. Offscreen, Nadja exclaims “I am skipping the Jebus-man parts!” Colin replies facetiously, “Don’t worry. Theresa never talks about religion.” 2d. Reverse shot of Guillermo again, smiling hesitantly as he lifts his hand in a cautious wave. Offscreen, Nadja asks, “My broad bear, how is this pronounced?” Laszlo responds “‘Prime Minister’, my love. It is synonymous with ‘load of horseshit’.” Nadja crows, “Ooh, that I like!” 2e. Reverse shot of Nandor, perking up with a small smile and curling his fingers up and down in a shy little wave. 2f. Repeat. Nandor frowns at himself and looks away, hand lowering awkwardly. 2g. Reverse shot from behind Nandor’s hip as he walks further into the room. Colin calls from offscreen, “Nandor! Take your shoes off before you come through!” Nandor snaps back, “I will do no such thing, Colin Robinson, I see the evil bricks you have scattered about!” Colin whines, “C’mon, I’m just a little birthday boy! It’s my birthday!” In the background, Guillermo watches Nandor pass with a nervous, longing gaze, hands twisting together anxiously. The scraps of black energy behind him multiply and swirl around, looking more like a cloak than ever before. /end ID

#wwdits #my familiars ghost #nandermo #dadzlo #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described

539 notes · View notes

swaps55 · 3 months

Note

I still occasionally get that random pain in my chest over Cantata's:

“I’ll let you work,” Kaidan says softly.

“Yeah,” Shepard says with a distracted wave of his hand.

The door swishes back open. Kaidan looks over his shoulder before he goes, drumming his fingers on the frame.

(Once I earn N7, things will change)

He walks back into the corridor and lets the door swish closed behind him.

Beaudoin claps him on the back when he returns to the lounge and hands him a beer.

“Can’t drag him out of his hole, huh?”

“Nah,” Kaidan says. “He’s busy.”

On the far side of the room, Aslany yells when Stabby bops her in the ankle right as she throws a dart at the new dartboard, while Pendergrass laughs gleefully.

Beaudoin gives him a sympathetic look, then loops an arm around his shoulders and steers him towards the dartboard.

“Happy birthday, Alenko.”

Kaidan takes a sip of his beer, and digs up a smile. “Thanks.”

Gosh, that hurts so beautifully. Sam being laser focused and Kaidan stepping back to give him room to do his thing depleting himself from what he wants. On his birthday ffs! *sigh* Beautiful.

But that's not what I wanted to ask and now that the gushing is over .. if somebody told Sam BEFOREHAND that it's Kaidan's birthday and (I'm most likely thinking about Kara here) roped him into getting him a present - how would that go? Would he buy something? Would he deem it unnecessary? What would it be? Would he wrap it? Give it to Kaidan while nobody's looking?

You have no idea how pleased I am that this moment resonates so much with so many people.

Sam has a weird relationship with birthdays, because he likes the idea of them; he's been trying to be special enough to get noticed by his mother his entire life, so the concept of having a day in which you are treated as special is both alluring and weird, because you get to be special just by existing, which doesn't compute.

In practice, birthdays were a letdown more than they weren't, so he for the most part spends very little time thinking about them. Which makes him bad at birthdays for other people. He's also not a gifts guy. Time spent with a person is far more valuable to him than a gift, so he's a lot more likely to do something that just involves spending time together. For him, that's the gift.

Here's the other thing when it comes to birthdays: he doesn't see the big deal for himself, but making someone else feel special on theirs becomes a mission. It's something that has a bar he can reach - or fail to reach - so he would take making someone else feel special on their birthday very seriously once he understood it was important to them.

Which is why I have no doubt he felt wretched when he realized he'd missed Kaidan's. Maybe it was days later, maybe even months, but he'd eventually realize. By that point he'd know that it was important to Kaidan, and failing to even acknowledge it to someone who means so much to him would be devastating.

What's funny is that he'd try to make up for it by finding a way to spend time together. On Kaidan's birthday would be a squad affair, but now Sam is paying a penance and hoping he'll be forgiven, so it's all eyes on Kaidan, no distractions. Just the two of them.

Basically, in an effort to make it up to him, Sam would more or less accidentally take Kaidan out on a date.

#swaps replies #dinchenrockt #'shoot it again sam' shepard #opus!verse

29 notes · View notes

demonvampire180writes · 9 days

Text

Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty

Find me on A03!

“Sorry I’m late, that fire was a beast.” Tommy apologizes as he walks through the hospital doors, still in his turnout gear, face covered in sweat and soot. He barely makes it five steps in when Evan is in front of him with a smile as wide as the grand canyon is deep.

“So are you.” He utters these words with almost pure reverence with that sly sort of grin before his lips are on Tommy’s, drawing the smallest mmmmm of pleasant surprise. The kiss doesn’t last long at all but he’s left breathless as they pull apart. Before Tommy can even say another word, Evan is guiding him through the halls of the overly familiar hospital to a hall crowded with people, spilling out of a single doorway. Even pays no mind, grabbing Tommy’s wrist and pulling him through the crowd. When Chimney looks up from the cake in his hand, Tommy apologizes for missing the ceremony, knowing they’ll all understand. They’re all first responders after all.

Chimney waves him off with a smirk, though there’s a look on his face that causes Tommy some confusion. More than that, hearing Hen say something along the lines of, “About damn time…” gives him pause. Sure, Evan’s hand is around his wrist but that’s not unusual. He’d been the one to drag him up here.

Tommy doesn’t have time to ponder the strangeness because Evan drags him over to the cake and cuts him just about the biggest slice he’s ever seen, grinning like a mad man the whole time. Tommy doesn’t even get a bite to his lips before the younger man declares, “Come meet my sister. She’s been dying to meet you.” He’s pulled around the length of the hospital bed and plopped right in front of the bride.

She’s absolutely stunning, from head to toe; her dress fitting her like a glove, showing off every curve and asset she owns. If Tommy liked women, he’s sure he’d fall for a woman just like her. Her eyes turn to them and she breaks out in a smile that reminds him so much of her brother- eyes crinkling in the corner in that same adorable way.

“Buck!” She breathes, as if she’s been holding on to that for a while.

“Hey, Maddie.” He says, suddenly seeming a little bit shy. “I have someone for you to meet.” He pulls Tommy a bit closer, keeping his hand on his bicep. Maddie turns to him.

“Oo!” She says excitedly, clapping, eyes glittering with sibling mischief. “Is this the hot pilot guy?” She turns to him without waiting for a reply. “Tommy, right?”

At this moment he’s eternally glad for the soot covering his face because he’s absolutely certain it would be a five alarm fire with how hard he’s blushing. He’s so embarrassed it takes him a long second to realize that he recognizes her voice; he’s heard her hundreds of times over dispatch and his nerves lessen, his broad shoulders relaxing. “I’d offer you my hand but…” He lifts it from his cake plate and shows her the aftermath of the fire he’s bringing home with him. Not offended in the least, she laughs.

“I think a little bit of soot is the least of my worries. I am marrying into a firehouse afterall.” She says affectionately, turning to look at her husband and daughter, Chimney feeding Jee miniscule bites of cake as she giggles gleefully, chasing after Chim’s fork as he zooms it away from her. Tommy can feel the swell of love radiating from her and he’s never been more glad than he is right now for a case closed. He’s only just met Maddie, but he knows Chimney, and the two of them deserve the world.

“Okay well, that’s enough of that. I’m starving.” Buck announces loudly.

Chimney looks at him and shrugs, only somewhat apologetic as he says, “Sorry Buck, the catering was canceled seeing as I was at Death’s door for most of the day and no one knew if I’d be around to eat it.” Maddie slaps him, hard, on his upper arm. “Ow.” He whines, narrowing his eyes at her.

Tommy waits for a joke about starting out abusive, but it never comes. There’s a story about that, but there’ll be time for that later.

Bucks expression falls and, if he was a dog, one hundred percent his tail would be hanging limply behind him, big eyes round and sad. Tommy’s heart does a flip, and he feels the urge, a need, to get this man anything he wants just so he keeps on smiling. A moment later his own stomach growls, loudly announcing to everyone around him that he’s been so busy the past twenty-four hours that he can’t actually remember the last time he consumed real, non-granola, food. His face pinkens yet again and he coughs. Chimney snorts, failing to hold back a laugh.

“Sorry about that.” He runs a hand through his hair, dislodging some soot that had settled there, sheepish grin on his lips. He’s trying not to draw attention to himself, he’s an outsider after all, but his body is working against him as his stomach gurgles once more. Not to mention the adrenaline crash he’s experiencing as he opens his mouth in a wide, jaw unhinging, yawn. It’s like, now that he’s seen his friend, and seen Buck, his brain is finally catching up to all that it’s missed, and if he doesn’t get those needs met right now, things are going to go south pretty damn quick. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” He says again through a closed fist as he tries to stifle another yawn.

He’s so out of it he doesn’t even register the way Buck has an arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him close and helping to keep him afloat. Later, once he’s slept an entire day, he’ll remember to feel guilty about getting Buck’s blue sweatshirt dirty but right now, Buck’s the only thing keeping him on his feet.

Maddie stands and approaches him, grabbing both of his large hands in her much smaller, much smoother ones, a worried look on her face as says, “Oh God, don’t even worry about it. You came here right after a shift, right? I can’t even imagine how exhausted you are.” She looks him over, seeming to only register his gear for the first time. “You’re even still in your gear!”

From the bed, Jee snuggles deep into Chimney’s side, eyes closed as she breathes deep and steady - she was so worried for her dad that she’s worn herself out - Chimney says, “Hey man, we get it. I’m just glad you were able to make it, even if it was only for the cake.”

“A man never says no to free food.” Tommy replies, blinking slowly, each time finding it more difficult to open his eyelids.

“Uh-huh. I’m sure that’s the only reason you came rushing over.” Hen says from somewhere behind them, a teasing smile in her voice. “It has nothing to do with seeing a certain someone as soon as possible.”

Tommy shrugs, not denying it. “I promised to be his date, and I’m a man of my word.” He can’t see the way Buck blushes, turning his face into Tommy’s arm to hide it. “But also I was promised free food, though I guess wedding cake will suffice.” Hen and Karen snort, one of them squeezing his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“I can still promise you free food.” Buck says, patting Tommy’s bicep that his fingers are still curled around. “But I think we should get you home first.”

“I agree.” Chimney says simply with a flick of his hand as if shooing them out. “I appreciate you coming, Tommy, I really do. You’re a good friend.” Tommy’s heart warms. He knows that he was a little shit when they first met, so the fact that Chimney forgave him enough to allow him to be here on his special day fills him with joy.

Maddie pumps his still clasped hands up and down and nods emphatically. “Let’s get together, the four of us, once we’re all feeling more like ourselves. I have so much to tell you about little Buck here and I want to know you better, too.” Tommy manages a genuine smile, though it feels like his lips are glued together by molasses, and nods. “Go get some sleep, Tommy. It was really great to meet you. Buck.” She lets go and puts her hands on her hips, a mother hen as always, “You take him straight home you hear? Take good care of him.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Buck replies, giving her what can only be described as a sarcastic salute. Maddie chuckles and shakes her head lovingly. “Anyway, we’ll catch you later Mads. Love you.” He leans over and kisses her on the cheek. She mouths love you, too as she follows her husband's lead and shoo’s them from the room. Many eyes follow their path, especially with Buck leading him by the hand, but Tommy is so far gone he doesn’t have the energy to care.

He stumbles through the hospital with only the sound of Buck’s footsteps to guide him as it’s impossible for him to keep his eyes open now. They make it to the parking lot and slowly to Buck’s Jeep where Tommy is guided into the passenger side, followed by the subtle click of his seatbelt. “Hey, Tommy, need your address bud. Or do you want to stop by Harbor and drop off your uniform first?” Buck rubs his arm, and it feels so good. Big, and probably warm though he can’t feel it through his protective gear and all he wants to do is lean into it. It’s too much work to speak. “Tommy?” Buck cups his cheek, very gently shaking him back to wakefulness. “I’ll take that to mean straight home. Can you at least open Google maps so it can give me directions?” Tommy mumbles incoherently and chooses to fumble for his phone instead of replying, handing it over before slumping against the door, the cool glass feeling like heaven against his skin. Buck’s chuckle is the last thing he hears as he drops out of consciousness and into the land of dreams.

Tommy doesn’t wake again until Buck nudges him, quietly informing Tommy that they’ve arrived at home. He blinks his eyes open slowly, feeling like the Sandman has visited and left his dust in Tommy’s eyes, the edges caked with sleep crust. It takes another long second for his eyes to focus and when they do he notices two large brown bags on his front step, dark with grease along the bottom. “Evan?” He questions, unable to stop the yawn that follows.

“I know for a fact that you haven’t eaten in at least twenty-four hours and cake does not a meal make.” He reaches up and strokes Tommy’s cheek with the back of his hand, the caress gentle and feeling heavenly against his unshaven stubble. “You fell asleep so fast after we got in the car that I couldn’t ask what you wanted, so I hope Indian is okay. It should still be warm, I ordered it just before we left.” Tommy doesn’t hesitate to nod, feeling warm, fluttery feelings when Evan breaks out into a grin. “Good. I got a ton of stuff. Let’s get you inside.” He hops out without an answer and comes to help Tommy out. They make their way to the front door where Tommy guides Evan to an extra key hidden inside his mailbox, with a magnet to keep it from falling.

Once they’re indoors, and Evan has the food situated on the kitchen island, he comes back to Tommy and begins to help him undress without asking. Tommy lets him, each limb like a lead block, hardly able to hold them up long enough for the man to get each arm out. Once disrobed, Evan drops the suspenders off his shoulders and shuffles the pants down off his hips before guiding him to a chair where he forces Tommy to sit. With practiced ease he undoes the older man’s work boots, setting them aside to be cleaned and polished later, and then the heavy protective pants that he throws into the pile over his shoulder. Already Tommy’s limbs feel lighter, but he knows there’s more to come.

Evan stands before running a hair through Tommy’s curls, scratching lightly at the base of his neck. The gesture is affectionate and Tommy wants to lean into it like a cat. “Why don’t you go shower and I’ll get food ready?”

“Don’t wanna.” He whines, lifting his arms enough to wrap around Evan’s waist, pulling him close enough that he can rub his forehead against his firm stomach like a petulant child. “Just wanna sleep.” Another yawn. Long fingers brush his scalp.

“C’mon Tommy, you’ll feel disgusting in the morning if you don’t shower. Do you… want me to help?” There’s shyness in his question, quite a bit of hesitation but a hint of desire as well. But Tommy is too tired to want for anything more than his bed so he shakes his head. “Then get going. It’ll only get harder the longer you hold off.” Tommy snorts which earns him a smack in the back of the head. “Get going.” Bucks tries to put on his no nonsense voice, but he’s so cute that Tommy can’t take him seriously. Evan can be serious, like when he’s working for example, but a situation really has to call for it. Any other time he just looks like a kid with puffed out cheeks pretending to be a grown up and Tommy loves it; he thinks it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

He stubbornly holds on for a few minutes longer, rubbing his soot stained face all over that blue sweatshirt, it was already a lost cause so Tommy would just buy him another, before heaving a long, put upon sigh. Evan was totally correct about how much he’d hate waking up still caked in yesterday’s disaster so, channeling as much inner strength as possible, he pushes himself away from… his boyfriend… and stands for the shower.

“Tommy.” Evan calls his name and he turns, surprised yet again as Evan kisses him once more, feather light against his lips. “I’m proud of you. And thank you. For making the effort today. I know how exhausted you must be.”

This time it was Tommy who leans in to plant a kiss, licking his bottom one teasingly. “Like I said, I’m a man of my words. You may have saved the food debacle but I remember you promising me a dance. I mean, obviously not right now because a corpse would have more energy and vigor than I do at the moment but in the near future for sure.” He says these words so close that he can feel his own breath radiating back from Evan’s lips which prompts him to kiss him once more before turning and making a serious effort to make it to the shower. He misses the flush of Evan’s cheeks and the way he smiles as he touches his lips, licking them with slightly dilated pupils. He’s not sure he would have the strength to walk away if he saw something so beautiful.

By the time he finishes in the shower, Evan laid out clean comfy clothes and a new pair of boxer briefs on the bathroom counter for him, his boyfriend has dished out two heaping plates of food, which smells divine. Tommy’s stomach gives an appreciative grumble which makes the blond smile wide. “Wanna watch a movie while we eat?” Tommy knows he won’t be awake long enough to watch anything but nods anyway. It was better than sitting in silence.

Buck grabs both plates, and both sets of silverware, and leads the way into the living room where a huge L-shape couch takes up most of the space, across from a massive 65” flatscreen. Buck settles into the edge seat, reclining as soon as he realizes he’s able to and pats the place right next to him. Tommy smiles and shakes his head, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and plopping down a few inches from Buck. The boy is having none of it and pouts until Tommy moves closer, snuggling deep into his side. Buck hands him his plate, setting his own on his lap and eating with one hand so that he can keep the other draped around Tommy. He feels warm. And safe. And kept.

His heart feels so full.

They spend the next ten minutes debating over what to watch before settling on something they’ve both seen a million times before, a generic rom-com that plays every year on the Hallmark channel, and truly settle in.

Tommy doesn’t even make it ten bites in. He’s just so cozy. His hand lowers until it settles in his lap, the fork prongs still stuck with lamb curry. His head rolls to the side, nestling against Evan’s broad chest and soon he’s lulled into sleep by the steady thump of his heart. He can’t remember even falling asleep. All he knows is that nothing has felt more right.

—-----------------------------------

Buck devours his food at lightning speed as he focuses on the TV, caught up in the cheesy storyline. It takes him a long time to realize that Tommy’s body has grown heavier. When he does, he feels his chest constrict, in that good way that happens when your heart just feels so full it could burst. His attention is drawn fully away from the screen now as he gazes at… his boyfriend’s… sleeping face, the taut lines of exhaustion gone in the throes of complete relaxation, his soot covered cheeks clean of any evidence of the hardship he faced.

Buck runs his thumb down the center of Tommy’s face, over his nose and his lips and the tiny cleft in his chin he loves so much, simply admiring him.

He doesn’t know how he got so lucky; he never would’ve thought that he would one day be in a relationship with a man, even knowing that he knew something was missing in his life, he made the assumption that one day it would be a woman who would fill the void, but he wouldn’t change a thing. He’s not sure if he’s ready to commit to the L word with Tommy, but he truly believes that with time he can get there. Hanging out with him, laughing with him and going on silly dates. Introducing him the way he deserves and loving him like no others before him. Buck wants it all.

Grinning, he leans down and presses his lips into soft brown curls while removing the plate from Tommy’s lap, setting it aside. He turns off the TV, quieting the room before maneuvering the man into a lying position, using one of the decorative pillows under his head and grabbing the throw off the back of the couch to cover him with. He does his best to tuck him in snug before grabbing another blanket and throwing it over himself, tucking it under Tommy’s head before settling in, one hand resting against his boyfriend's neck, thumb stroking soft circles in a soothing manner.

Getting comfy, his own eyes slid shut. Yeah, today was hellish but all’s well that ends well.

He’ll deal with the leftovers tomorrow he thinks, before joining Tommy in the land of dreams..

#buck x tommy #tevan #tevan fic #teven positive #tevan endgame #evan buckley x tommy kinard #a03 #a03 fanfic #fanfiction #911 on ABC #911 TV show #911 TV show fanfic #911 TV show fanfiction #established buck x tommy #fluffy #domestic #domestic fluff

18 notes · View notes

lilydoeswrite · 3 months

Text

THE MERCILESS SIREN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN

wattpad link previous chapter series masterlist next chapter

summary: It is the 66th Hunger Games when Oceana Fontaine is reaped as tribute, and at just thirteen years old, the odds are certainly not in her favour. As much as it is seen as an honour for Oceana to represent her district in the games, it is also practically a death sentence. But Oceana knows she needs to go home and is determined to, no matter how low her chances are and with the help of her mentors, she might just do that. But if she is to win, she will have to learn where her biggest strengths start to turn into her biggest flaws and weigh her options carefully as she starts making choices that pushes her morality and the lengths she will go to for love.

tags: slow burn (finnick x oc), violence, death, canon typical violence the usual stuff when it comes to the hunger games, weapons, not sure what else

The canon goes off and that’s when I know she’s dead. What on earth have I done? All the happiness or pride I had felt has now gone away, along with the rush of adrenaline. Now guilt and regret eats at me as I bite the inside of my cheeks.

“Here’s your knife back,” Gill smiles at me, passing me the knife which he had pulled out of the girl’s chest, the blood on the blade wipe cleaned. “Great job.”

“Thanks,” I smile and nod.

Why was I feeling guilty? I have every right not to. Afterall, she attacked me as well, she might’ve killed me if I hadn’t killed her. I wonder why I can’t feel the sense of redemption and joy anymore and the more I try to figure it out, the more confused I am. It seemed as though everyone in the group except for me had no problem with and did not struggle with the guilt which comes after every kill. Why can’t I be like them after I kill? Happy, satisfied and joyful… All of those emotions which seem perfectly out of place in the context of where we are. I crave for the feeling of redemption and pride again but can’t seem to get it back.

I look at Briar who is thrilled to say the least, complimenting and praising my skills which she had found impressive as she skips through the forest gleefully. “You were amazing, Oceana! Well done,” she smiles and giggles, “impressive for a kid!”

“I’m not a kid,” I chuckle as she heaves a sigh, shaking her head as she throws it back and laughs.

“Yes, you are!” Giselle is laughing along with Briar, “how old are you? Fourteen?”

“Thirteen,” I correct her and she smiles.

“Point proven!” Briar claps her hands together as she twirls her spear around in her hands. I would advise her to stop as it could danger herself and us, but I know better than that. Besides, she has just started to take a liking to me. “Come on, Oceana, what’s the rush to grow up?”

I want to roll my eyes and scoff but stop myself. Of course there’s a rush to grow up now! I’m fighting for my life right now, for goodness sake! What do they expect from me? For me to pretend everything is sunshine and roses? I try my best to not display my annoyance and shrug my shoulders. “Don’t know,” I simply say. I look at Gill and realise he can see right through me as he gives me a questioning look. Maybe we’re on the same wavelength right now.

We continue walking through the forest and silence settles above us once the initial chatter has died down. I’m not sure what to think of right now; reminisce about my days back home or think about what I might have to do next? I’m unsure, neither of them seem like good options but I can’t help but think back to my conversation with Ms Bronte in the fancy room after I had gotten reaped. “I hope to see you again soon.”

I genuinely hope Ms Bronte is watching this year’s games like any other year, and if she is, I hope she is proud of me. From the very beginning she has believed in my ability to win. I must thank her if I ever get home to District 4. No. Not if, but when, I get home to District 4. I must go home. I must get out of here alive. The thought of letting down not just her but all my family and friends– Finnick, Cordelia, Aurelia, Coral, Pearl– it’s unbearable. I can’t disappoint them ever, but I probably have already with the whole incident of me passing out, although I hope I’ve redeemed myself. The incident haunts me like a ghost. I still can’t believe I was so stupid to let myself pass out like that.

I’m still holding onto my knife as we hike through the woods, the whole fight between the girl and I is lingering at the back of my mind. It’s given me a new perspective– now I really know that some tributes are willing to fight back. We weren’t just dealing with helpless weaklings here, we’re dealing with other kids who are just as determined as us to go home. And most importantly, I’m reminded that we’re not the only ones in the arena that have weapons or that know how to fight.

After a while, we find a shallow stream and make the decision to sit by it to catch some rest. We've been hiking for at least two hours by now and the blaring sun has come out again. I scoop some water from the stream and wash my face with it. I’m tempted to take my jacket off but for some reason, the wind has made the air cold and chilly around us, and the cold water is certainly not helping me other than by refreshing my alertness. I watch as Giselle undoes her braids before braiding it back and I reach for my own ones, my ponytail has become loose now but I don’t have the heart to take out the remaining thing I have left of Valeria– well, not really, I have my bracelet and it’s charms, but still.

“Want me to do your hair?” Giselle asks. She’s noticed my staring. I give her a shy smile and she chuckles, coming over to me. “I’ll redo it for you, sit still.”

“Thanks, Giselle,” I say as I feel her taking out the hair ties and letting my hair loose, using her fingers to comb through my hair gently before taking a few strands and tying them together as she braids the top of my hair together before gathering it in a ponytail. She secures her work of art with the hair ties and pats my head when she is done, grinning widely.

“There you go, all done!” she says and I thank her again. Oddly, the whole interaction reminds me of the times I’ve spent with Aurelia for some reason and it’s made me feel calm and peaceful. “As pretty as ever,” she comments and I wish I can see how my hair looks. It must be really pretty as everyone else is admiring it as well, in awe of Giselle’s skills.

“How do you know how to do that?” I ask as I look at Giselle who plops herself back down on the ground next to Chase.

“My friends always ask me to braid their hair whenever we’re competing in the Academy,” she explains, “I guess I’ve just gotten really good over time.”

I nod. They had competitions at their academies as well! Competitions have always been my favourite part of the year and for some reason, I’m surprised that they have competitions in their academies as well. I guess I’ve just got no clue how things work in District 1 or 2, and for some reason, I expected things there to be severely different. I want to ask more about the competitions but remind myself that home is a sore topic here in the arena and stop myself.

“I’m going to catch some lunch for us,” Chase suddenly says, breaking the silence before standing up, “Alvise, Gill, you two want to come with?”

Soon, it’s just Briar, Giselle and me who are sitting by the stream in silence– unsure what to talk about. “I guess we should get to know each other more,” Briar says as she motions for the two of us to get closer. “What are some of your favourite hobbies?”

“I’m not sure,” Giselle shrugs. “I spend most of my time in the Academy or training. District 2, Peacekeepers and volunteers?”

“Right,” Briar nods before turning to look at me, “what about you, Oceana? Surfing, right?”

“Yeah, and diving, I guess,” I say, “really anything related to the water, I mean. Music, that’s one, I know how to play a couple instruments. Reading, as well…That’s all I can think of. How about you?”

“Me?” Briar chuckles before humming as she thinks for a while, “probably music as well, fashion design…I really love to make my own jewellery as well…sports, as well? Maybe,” she laughs and I nod.

An awkward silence settles above the three of us; we’re all not sure what to say. All of us are aware that home is, and will forever be, a sore topic here in the arena. But, then, what else are we supposed to talk about? Our plans for the day? Our hopes for when we get out of the arena? Wait, yes. Maybe that. Actually, no, scratch that. They’ve probably been training for the games their whole lives with their whole future in mind being a hunger games victor or dying for their district…Much like most of us in District 4. Or maybe they were the odd ones out? I doubt so. I want to ask them but I’m scared to.

“If it weren’t for the games, what would you be doing now?” Giselle asks. Has she read my mind?

“Probably surfing, school, the Academy…The usual,” I shrug, “how about you guys?”

“Academy, school, sports,” Giselle says, “I do lots of running and cycling.”

“Same here, I guess,” Briar shrugs, “plus designing and making jewellery in my room.”

“That’s so cool,” I smile and Briar’s eyes light up.

“Right?” She says enthusiastically. “It’s so cool to see the patterns and designs you’ve envisioned in your head come to life!” Briar claps her hands in joy. “Obviously, I’ve always wanted to be a tribute in the Hunger Games, but if not for that, I totally would become a jewellery maker!”

“I never really thought about that,” Giselle hums, “on what would happen if I didn’t come out first in the Academy so I could participate in the Games. I’ve always worked towards that my whole life, y’know? One track mind,” she continues. “How about you, Oceana? Any plans?”

“Well, maybe to be a marine biologist or oceanographer, I guess. Diving and working with animals…sounds pretty fun to me.” I smile as I think back of home– I can almost hear the squawks of the seagulls as they fly into the horizon.

“Guys!” I hear a panicked Gill shout for us and I’m immediately brought back to reality. I look up at the sky only to realise it has gone dark and then see Gill sprinting towards us, shouting to get out of the island.

I quickly sling my bag on my shoulders and run towards the direction everyone is running in. “What’s going on?” I shout as I catch up to them, only to find my answer in a severely injured Chase lying on the ground.

“Go, you guys, go!” He says, worriedly looking behind us. “Mutts!”

“Chase, we can’t leave you,” Giselle shakes her head and everyone nods in agreement although now we’re all clutching onto our weapons tightly.

“No no no,” he says over and over again. We’re all getting worried because we’ve never seen him in this state and because he truly looks terrified. “It’s over for me, look at my injury,” Chase says as Giselle tries to calm him down as he reveals a deep, dark red cut on his leg. I have to be honest, it’s a bloody and horrific mess as blood gushes out. “It’s over for me but not for you guys, go before they come!”

“Before what comes?” Briar asks, all of a sudden, she’s just as terrified as all of us– all of her arrogance and ego stripped away from her.

“The Mutts!” Chase shouts, and as if on cue, we can feel heavy steps towards us, as if a stampede is about to approach. “The swans, they’re Mutts! The wolves and horses are Mutts! Mutts, everywhere! Leave! Leave me!”

“Not a chance,” Alvise says as he helps get Chase back on his feet, Giselle helping to support him. “We’re not leaving you.”

The next thing I know, all of us are running as fast as we can, cutting and slashing our way through the thick forest. It’s gotten extremely dark now and it’s hard to figure where to run– where to even go. It’s no longer a paradise, no, it’s a death trap. Maybe the Gamemakers have finally gotten bored and wanted to put a spin on things– even if that means risking the Capitol favourites. “Get to shore!” I shout as I jump over a log, looking behind me for a split second. Giselle and Alvise are supporting Chase as best they can, and credit where credit is due, the speed they’re running at is impressive considering the extent of Chase’s injury.

There’s no way the Gamemakers will kill us now, this is just a twist in the games. Or at least I’m trying to convince myself that it is.

“Oceana, on your left!” I hear Gill shout and my eyes widen upon seeing a pack of wolves approaching us. My breaths have turned into short, panicked ones as I throw my knives at them relentlessly, desperately trying to outrun them as I watch as Briar helps to stab some with her spear.

Then, I hear a familiar voice. A voice that’s all too familiar.

“Waves, help me!”

author’s note’s: GUYS GUYS GUYS PHOEBE IS BACK GUYS THE LOML IS BACKKK anyways here’s chapter sixteen as a gift for phoebe ( @sunniskyies ) SO EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU PHOEBE FOR BEING BACK (thank you phoebe ive missed you) ANYWAYS onto bigger things, sorry i haven’t updated ive had really bad writers block when it comes to writing the merciless siren so my apologies :( im trying my best though so hopefully i can put out more chapters! if you’re still reading this, no words can describe how thankful i am! constructive criticism is also always welcomed and if you liked this please consider reblogging and/or commenting! love you guys <33

#the hunger games #finnick odair #hunger games #the hunger games fic #the merciless siren #thg #thg series #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair fluff #finnick odiar angst #finnick odair imagine #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #hunger games fic #finnick odair fic #district 4

23 notes · View notes

bobtheacorn · 7 months

Note

I've decided your tags on that post about Leo not being anyone's favorite brother are the only take I will be accepting from here on out. Galaxy brained and honestly very in character for all of them lol.

tags from this: #leo is actually Everyone's favorite brother they just all insist that he isn't bc he would be Insufferable if he found out #april asking 'whos your favorite bro' in pre-lair game interviews and don mike and raph instinctively going #'leo - WAIT I MEAN [other brother]' April being like Mhm *writing that down*. donnie makes her sign an nda

Thanks I made myself sad about it actualy dslfkjskldf

"Who's your favorite brother?" April asks.

Mikey answers at once, cheerfully:

"Leo." He realizes what he's said as soon as it's out of his mouth, while April is gleefully jotting the answer down on her interview notepad, her phone balanced in her other hand, recording an audio file for redundancy's sake; Mikey looks at her pleadingly, clapping both hands together. "Don't tell 'im I said that, April! I'll never live it down! Especially with the Games comin' up!"

"My lips are sealed!" she promises.

"Who's your favorite brother?"

"Leo," Raph says - and then laughs nervously when he actually processes the question, slumping back on the bench and folding his arms like he's trying to hide something, avoiding eye contact, "I mean! Mikey! No, no - Donnie! I mean - Raph loves all of his brothers equally…!"

"I didn't ask which one you loved more," April clarifies with amusement, rolling her eyes, "I asked which one's ya favorite. Big difference!"

"Raph doesn't have favorites," Raph asserts, "And if he did, it definitely wouldn't be Mister Always Rubs His Five Years of Victory in Our Faces!"

"Uhuh," April says, circling something in her notebook.

"Donnie, who's your favorite brother?"

"I refuse to answer on the grounds that anything I say can be used against me - "

"Donnie. This is a for-fun Pre-Lair Games interview."

".....Are our answers confidential?"

"Exclusively for my eyes only! I'm not gonna publicly display your answers on the fridge or anything."

"Sigh. Obviously it's Leo." Obviously, April thinks, trying to suppress her fond smile so Donnie doesn't see it and suddenly become allergic to his own Emotions. She busies herself with her notebook while Donnie pushes back and forth in his gamer chair, fingers steepled in front of him like a super villain. "He has the most consistent pro-to-con ratio, if only marginally - though that is subject to change in the next month, what with the Lair Games coming up."

"Obviously," April says, waving a hand.

Donnie narrows his eyes at her.

"Who's your favorite brother?"

"Aha, a trick question," Leo says smugly, "You'll have to get up earlier in the day to pull that one over on ole Leon."

"I'm not pullin' anything," April laughs. "I'm askin' all you guys the same questions! Just tryin' t'think of some fun little headliners for the interviews and stuff, y'know? All in good fun. Now answer the question!"

"Uuh-huh. Well, it depends on the day of the week, I guess," Leo evades, shrugging.

He's playing with some fidget toy in his lap, allowing it to distract him. April is perched on the arm of the chair beside him, so she can't see his face. She folds one of her legs over the other, notepad balanced on her thigh while she taps out a rhythm with the mechanical pencil.

She can't help but tease him.

"Wanna guess who said Leo was their fav?"

She's not really gonna tell him. (That would break her NDAs.) And what it would do to his ego, she doesn't like to think - but she expects him to guess correctly, anyway. She's fully prepared to brush him off and play a little game of as if. But Leo chuckles and braces his feet on the opposite arm of the chair, pushing his shell briefly back into April's side, and says brightly, "Oh I guarantee you, I am nobody's fav. I'm too magnificent! They hate me cuz they ain't me."

Now that catches April off guard.

"Excuse me?"

Leo curls the fidget toy into his palm to touch his fingers, counting off, "Raph and Donnie both probably picked Mikey - and who can blame them, he's got all of us wrapped around his adorable little baby brother fingers. But if they picked each other, it's because Donnie actually shows up the most for Raph's missions because he loves having a Schedule, and because Raph always lets Donnie infodump at him because he likes listening to someone talk. And I know Mikey picked Donnie, because Raph always tries to smother-hen him."

"Uhuh," April says, uncertain about how she's feeling right now. This was supposed to be for laughs, but she's not laughing. Sharply, she adds, "Are you playin' with me right now?"

"I would never!" Leo says, scandalized by the very idea. He flicks the fidget toy so it swirls between his fingers, and he chuckles. "But I'm gonna play those losers like a Kazoo during the next Lair Games! What's the next question, Apricot??"

April taps her eraser against the notebook.

She doesn't have one ready.

#rise leonardo #rise april o'neil #rottmnt #lair games #leo i love u bby #no i wont elaborate. probably #rise #i am yeeting this into the void and going to work and just grateful that my brain chemistry chilled out long enough to put eight paragraphs #together #dfjsdfkljskdf

43 notes · View notes

thedepthsoffandomminds · 7 months

Text

The guest pt 15

Masterlist

"Drop me off up the road a little! I need to buy some items.". Elle called out to the carriage driver.

" No, you don't. You're going to the hospital to see your paramour." Fanny giggled.

" I am not. I do not have one." Belle shook her head.

"Then why do you spend so much time there?" Fanny asks, screwing up her nose.

"y/n however..." belle turned her eyes on you

"I think it's terribly exciting." Fanny claps her hands together.

"It is a little." You agree.

"I have come to realise that Sneed may not be quite what I thought, but it's no matter. in the next few days, a ship will arrive with a man on it." Fanny announced gleefully.

" Yes, not uncommon in a harbour town, where men outnumber us eight to one." Belle laughed.

"One man in particular. He's with the Bank of Great Britain, and by all reports, someone of outstanding virtue. Mother said she is happy to see me marry, even if it means me going away, and Father said he's prepared to offer a very generous dowry."

Part of you marvelled at how normal these types of conversations seemed to you now.

"He might be a perfect bore." Belle grinned.

"Please. Belle, you're speaking about the man I love." You all snicker,

"If the virtuous man from the Bank of Great Britain kisses you, you will know if he's the one for you. It will feel like nothing else on this earth." Belle says giving you a sideways glance. The two do you get out at the hospital and you make straight for Jack. When he sees you he excuses himself from the patient and comes straight to you, sliding his arms around your waist.

"Good morning." He said giving you a quick kiss."

"Good morning, Doctor." You can't help the giggle that escapes your lips. Jack takes your hand and pulls you into a cupboard, closing the door behind you before he pressed himself against you.

"I missed you." He whispered against your lips.

"I was with you last night." You say as you wrap your fingers around his waistcoat lapels.

"That was too long ago." He spoke between kisses.

"Why don't you stay, tonight?" He asks.

"Jack." You sigh.

"Why?"

"I just...I can't not yet." You say.

The door swings open and you both jump away from each other, Hetty looks down at you.

"There is a patient that needs attention, Doctor" she says, a small grin dancing around her lips.

"Thank you Hetty." Jack said, clearing his throat and walking out. You follow behind sharing a small giggle with the nurse. You see Sneed walking across the corridor his eyes fall on you. Jack already slipping away to his duties.

"Miss y/l/n, it is a pleasure to see you today." He said with a smile.

"Thank you, Doctor. Sorry I won't keep you from your work." You give him a curt nod and go to step away but he catches your arm.

"I would heed caution, y/n. It will not take long for people to notice you spending so much time here and with the unsavoury side of the town. My offer could still stand." He half whispers into your ear.

"Rainsford, you've already proposed to Belle since I last turned you down." You argue back.

"No matter, she has not given me an answer so I may still withdraw the offer." He says confidentally.

"Sneed, please remove your hand from my arm." You say attempting to pull away, his grip only tightened.

"Whatever you think that street urchin can provide you, trust me he cannot. He is penniless. I can buy you houses and horses and jewels."

"I don't want those things. Please let go." You say, panic beginning to rise up in your gut.

"Don't be stupid, y/n. You have two men of fastly different means. I am your best prospect. I am even willing to look past your... indiscretions." He yanked you closer to him.

"Rainsford!" You grit your teeth and tried to pull back once more when you feel his grip slip from you and a body appear between the two of you.

"Don't touch her." Jack held Sneed back against the wall, his fisted in Jack's hands

"Unhand me, Dawkins."

"She is mine! Come close to her again and I'll kill you."

"I don't see a ring." Sneed tried to seem larger than he was whilst still pressed against the wall.

"Mine." He said, giving Sneed an extra shove into the wall before grabbing your hand and walking away.

"Jack. Jack"

He stopped and turned to you.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked feeling your arm where Rainsford had grabbed you.

"I'm alright, Jack." You reassure him with a hand on his chest.

"Dodge, who in God's terrible universe did the Bank of Great bloody Britain decide to send here?" Fagin spoke dragging Jack along with him. You followed along with them.

" How on earth would I know?"Jack pulled his clothes out of his hand.

" Who is the wettest lettuce of all time?" Fagin asked.

" I don't know, but I Was bus.. No."

"Yes."

"No. Please, no."

"Yes."

" No!"

"That's right. Oliver pissing Twist."

"Oliver Twist?" You repeat.

" My goose is cooked. He knows everything about us. And he's so bloody honest. He would see it as his moral duty to send us both to the peelers." Jack panicked.

"Yes." Fagin sighed.

"Did he see you?" You ask.

"No. He was looking in my direction, but I have aged something considerable." Fagin said.

" You've looked the same since you were born. Like a bad piece of taxidermy." Jack growled.

"Hurtful."

You giggle.

"This isn't funny." Jack turned to you.

"It's a little funny. How ridiculous do your lives have to be have the one person arrived here who could ruin everything?" You ask, "look, I'll go back to the house. See what I can find out." You say.

"Wait, wait." Jack pulls you back to him. "I can't do this anymore. You must let me give you this." He pulls the silver band from his pocket.

"Jack."

"No, y/n You have unnerved me more than any other woman I have ever met. You fill me with equal parts joy and dread. Damn you. I can no longer do this without you. let me tether you here." He says eyes begging you.

You hold your hand out to him, letting him slip the silver band onto your ring finger. Jack kissed you hard before you ran off.

*_*_*_*

You reach government house just as Edmund holds a shovel of soil up to Oliver.

"Unsuitable for marrows, more's the pity."

"Oh. Shame." Oliver replies sniffing a pinch of the soil. You walk up to them.

"Ahh, Mr Twist might I introduce my ward of sorts, Miss y/l/n." Edmund gestured towards you. Oliver bowed his head to you.

"An utter pleasure to meet you."

"And you Mr Twist."

Fanny gives her father a pointed look.

"Yes, my daughter here is insisting we have a special dinner for you." He says with a frin that seeps through his wide moustache.

"Marvelous." Oliver grinned, "Yes. Now... I wonder, I believe I saw from my carriage window, an older man in ragged attire that I might have known from London days." Your heart started pounding in your chest and you wondered if the others could see it, "You have no idea... I think his name was Fagin."

" Oh, yes. Him. He works for a surgeon here, a Jack Dawkins." Fanny announced.

"Jack Dawkins is here? I knew him by another name then. I wonder, would it be a terrible imposition to invite Jack to the soirée?" Oliver gleefully clasps his hands together.

"Well, I would hope so, he is my promised." You say holding your left hand up, showing the band around your finger. Fanny squeezed and grabbed your hand.

"Oh this is wonderful news, y/n!" Edmund laughed.

"You and Jack? Oh then the pleasure meeting you is tenfold!" Oliver shakes your hand.

You thank him and follow the others inside.

"So much for he and I." Belle says with an eyebrow raised.

"You said yourself you had no interest in him." You answer sheepishly. Belle took hold of your hand bringing the ring closer to her face and inspected the small yellow stone adorning it.

"It's a beautiful ring. An heirloom?" She asked.

"Oh I'm not sure, it happened a little fast." You took in a deep breath feeling your heart clench.

"What is it?" Belle asked.

"I'm alright. It's just been a long day. I think maybe I should get some rest before the dinner tonight." You say.

"Yes, of course. Let me help you upstairs." Belle takes your arm and walks with you, "I do hope that our friendship can continue after your marriage." She says as you walk up the stairs.

"Belle, I wouldn't have it any other way."

@fandomfan-102 @deanstolemydragon @mydeputyghostwagon

34 notes · View notes

blossomwritesthings · 1 year

Text

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 & 𝐢𝐜𝐞

pairing: changbin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!changbin. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. slightly suggestive. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. reader gets hurt while at the gym. changbin wants to help her. :( angst with fluff included. pet names (affectionately). slightly suggestive towards the end, spicy things fade into black. brief mentions of changbin fantasizing about reader while they're at the gym.

word count: 2.1k

summary: you never expected to find yourself in the gym late at night with your boyfriend changbin. but then again, you never expected that you'd get injured either.

a/n: lmao I said I was gonna write this like, 2 months ago, but here I am... I got sidetracked with other projects sksk 💀 I literally cannot resist the urge to not make things with changbin sexual even just a LITTLE bit, he's like... so hot to me??? 🥵 anyways- STREAM 5 STAR BITCHES, THE QUEEN IS ALMOST HERE!!!

🤎 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

When you agreed to start working out with your boyfriend Changbin, you didn’t expect him to take your words so seriously.

But there you were, sitting at a machine at the gym that was made to target your biceps. You were lifting thirty pounds, much to Changbin’s delight.

He was standing beside you, clapping his hands gleefully and spurring you on as you finished your third set of the night. “You got this, babe! I knew you could do thirty!” He exclaimed happily as soon as you were finished.

You used the towel that was wrapped around your neck to dab at the sweat that was trickling down the side of your cheeks. Staring up at him, you flashed a playful grin. “Yeah, but I can do a lot more than that.”

“Woah there,” Changbin started, placing a hand on your damp shoulder. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves… You just started a few weeks ago, I’m not about to have you get injured under my watch.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you took a long drag from your ice-cold water bottle. “Please- I’m a lot more competent than you think, baby.” Your eyes darted around the gym’s weight room. Since it was so late in the night, it was pretty clear of patrons. Changbin liked to go so late at night because it was quiet and allowed him to focus on his workouts without being distracted by others. That, and because his busy schedule with Stray Kids didn’t allow him to hit the gym until late into the evening.

“I never said you weren’t competent, darling,” Changbin muttered, just as he leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to the top of your head. “Just that you have to take these things slowly- building up endurance takes a while, yeah?”

You pulled away from his form, noticing the way that his midnight-black fringe stuck to his sweaty forehead. If you were being entirely honest, you hadn’t been that interested in the working out part when you agreed to attend the gym with your boyfriend. For the most part, you were going because you wanted to get a glimpse of who he was at his core - Changbin had been engrossed in the gym setting for so many years - and long before you even knew him. He had always been quite obsessed with working out, so you wanted to learn more about that particular side of him.

Also, it helped that he looked super hot while working out…

Drenched in sweat,

Muscles straining,

Breath coming out ragged and-

As soon as your mind started to wander to such darker parts of your psyche, you quickly snapped yourself out of your daze. There was no point in pondering over such things while out in the open - especially for Changbin to see. You wanted him to think that you were attending the gym purely to get fitter, not to ogle him up and down all night.

That’s when a genius idea came into the forefront of your mind.

You could tell Changbin was very proud of your willingness to push yourself in your workouts. But you wanted to show him that you could do more than just that.

So when he had his back turned to you, as he was busy preparing another set of weights on his barbell, you took to your machine again, raising the weight substantially. You had never tried lifting more than thirty pounds, but you didn’t think fifty would be that much of a difference.

You wanted to make Changbin proud. You wanted him to applaud you for your strength and drive.

Sucking in a deep breath between your clenched teeth, you began your next set. Immediately, you felt the extra pounds. But at first, it didn’t seem too difficult for you to handle.

As you counted down the numbers in your set, you began to feel the strain of the weight as you began to struggle to pull the machine up with either of your hands. It wasn’t until you neared the end of your set, muscles completely fatigued, that a sharp pain shot out from your right bicep, coursing down the entire length of your arm.

Crying out in distress, you dropped the weights, doubling over and holding onto your arm for dear life. The discomfort was agonizing, beginning to overtake your mind in an instant in a haze of cloudiness.

It wasn’t until a thick hand was landing on one of your shoulders, shaking you out of your trance of misery that you peered up to see a wide-eyed Changbin.

“B-Baby, what happened?” He asked frantically, gaze searching your face that was crumpled up in hurt. Then his focus landed on the machine you were on, and the weight that you had set for yourself. Immediately, his eyes narrowed as he turned his attention back to you. “Sweetheart, did you try to lift more than you’ve trained for?”

The embarrassment was beginning to mix in with the pain, growing inside your stomach and reaching up the column of your neck until the heat of it pulled in your cheeks. You moved your head away from him entirely, your heart racing against your ribcage from the burning feeling that was swimming through the veins of your right arm.

When you didn’t answer him, you felt a hand fit underneath your jaw, warm fingers gently clutching at your chin and forcing your gaze back on him. “Answer me, baby. Did you go against my rules?” He had already told you time and time again not to push yourself, and not to raise the weight too much before your muscles were fully prepared to take on more strain. But, of course, the one time you didn't listen to him, you got hurt.

Tears were already pushing up and out of the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision in a mist of despair and embarrassment, “I’m sorry, Bin- I didn’t-” You began to cry out, but were quickly cut off by Changbin moving around you to take a look at your arm.

Your palm was still clamped around your bicep, but he managed to slowly pry it off, taking a long look at everything. After a few moments, he was sighing deeply and shaking his head in disappointment, rising from the crouching position he had previously taken. “It looks like you pulled a muscle in your bicep.”

Then he was helping you out of the machine’s plastic-lined chair, fitting a muscular arm around your waist and holding you close to him as he began to make his way through the empty gym.

“Where are we going?” You asked, panic catching in your neck and forming a lump in your throat as your mind raced with a million different thoughts. “I’m not going to the hospital-”

“I’m not taking you to the hospital, Y/N. I’m taking you home.” Changbin replied, voice gruff and low as he picked up the two duffle bags that you guys always brought along with you to your workouts. You took a quick peek at his face as he slowly shuffled the two of you out of the gym and to his car.

And he did not look happy.

In fact, he looked royally pissed off.

An hour later, you were laying atop your soft downy mattress, with Changbin at your side, pressing an ice pack to your arm. He had made you dinner as soon as you got home, which consisted of some scrambled eggs and a piece of raspberry-jammed toast before he forced you to take a few pills of ibuprofen to help with the swelling and discomfort.

“I can ice my injury, Bin.” You mumbled in a quiet voice. The tv in your bedroom was on, flashing brightly as some random game show was playing so late at night. The volume was turned down low, the soft buzz of it dancing around the room.

Other than that, no other sound could be heard.

Changbin had been relatively silent ever since your accident in the gym.

It was like he was stewing.

The anger building up inside of him.

And just the sight alone, of him sitting there next to you on the bed, helping you with the ice pack, caused your stomach to turn anxiously.

When he didn’t stop assisting you, you took matters into your own hands by grabbing the pack out of his hold and using one of your palms to hold it close to your arm. Your other hand was busy finding Changbin’s hand, fingers slotting between fingers and squeezing there.

That made him look up at you, leveling those dark, stormy eyes your way.

“Please, don’t be mad at me… I-I just wanted to make you proud, show you how much I’m capable of.” You said, squeezing his hand again and offering him a tiny, reassuring smile.

At that, his expression instantly melted. The furrowed brows and thinly pressed lips turned into warm eyes and flushed cheeks. “Baby- I’m not mad at you.” He whispered, leaning into your form and giving your lips a gentle kiss. “I’m angry at myself… for walking away from you and allowing you to handle the lifting on your own when I know that you’re still so new to these kinds of things.”

You frowned at him, giving him another peck on the mouth before moving away slightly. “But, this isn’t your fault, babe. I was the one who decided to increase the weight. It’s entirely on me that I pulled a muscle.”

Changbin offered you a grimace, shaking his head slowly before his mouth was moving and he gave the tip of your nose a delicate kiss. “Let’s just say that the fault was both of ours, yeah?” He gave either of your cheeks soft pecks, lips feeling like the touch of a faerie’s wing against your skin. “And I never want you to think that you have to prove yourself to me, princess. You’re wonderful and beautiful just the way you are right now… and no amount of weight you can lift is going to change that.”

You nuzzled into his warm neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and aftershave on his flesh. With light fingers carding into his hair, you gazed up at him with a racing heart and reddened cheeks as you said, “But… I’m not just going to the gym to learn how to lift, Binnie.”

“Oh? I thought you wanted to learn from the grand master of the gym?” He asked, wiggling his dark brows playfully as a grin began to spread across his perfect, rosy lips.

Reaching out, you traced a finger around the line of his mouth, reveling in the way that he shivered against you from the intimate contact. “No… I’m also there to see you,” you mused in a quiet voice, eyes meeting his as you tilted in close to him. Not enough that you were kissing yet, but that you could feel his warm breath fan against your face at the nearness. “To watch you in your true element, and… to witness how fucking sexy you are when you’re working out.”

Already, a wide, devilish smirk was spreading across his mouth, as Changbin’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you ever closer to his body that seemed to constantly radiate a familiar, comforting kind of heat. “Well, I’ll have you know that you’re also incredibly hot when you’re in the gym… all breathless and flushed,” his voice faded off into a low growl, as his fingers dug into the skin at your hips. Mouth hovering just over yours, lips coming close to yours once more. “And so many times I’ll get a glimpse of you in those tight little workout outfits that you like to wear and I just- I want to forget about all of my routines and plans, and just bend you over right then and there and-”

You were silencing him with a passionate kiss in the next instant, loving the way that he all but moaned into your mouth from the fierceness of your touch. Your lips moved against each other’s perfectly, as Changbin hauled you over himself so that you were comfortably seated in his lap.

When you yanked away from the kiss to catch your breath, mind running with a million different swarthy thoughts, you flashed him a sly grin. “Well, at least my arm is the only thing that’s strained…” Your words faded off, as one of Changbin’s thick hands fit behind your neck, drawing you back to him.

Back to his mouth and his familiar taste.

Back to the familiarity of his strong arms wrapped around your hips, keeping you near as he began to work your troubles away - as he began to help you forget all about your pain from the injury.

Because just then, all you could focus on was him. And his beautiful, shining face just below you, and the way that he held you, and the way that his body felt against you.

And it was all so perfect and comforting.

And definitely a lot better than a fucking ice pack.

Fin.

🌾 taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added!! to be removed from the taglist, please send me a msg and i will promptly take you off of the list.

🌾 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang :: @morningstardada :: @taeriffic :: @day6andetcetera :: @hyuka-luvbot :: @linohumina :: @urmomma0324 :: @poisonivy2 :: @nappynapnaps :: @bellamuerte1987 :: @julciaqwerty :: @abbiestearsricochet :: @leeknowsramen :: @maeleelee :: @/leyknxw a yellow tag means that there was an error in tagging you.

132 notes · View notes

ctl-yuejie · 1 year

Text

only friends characters so far, yes they are ranked.

1. Mew

Okay, I have never watched a show with Force and Book and I am so delighted with Book's acting. He looks absolutely cute in this show and you just get why Top would try and jump on that. But what really got me was the steadying breath he took after that heavy make-out scene and pushing Top off.

(might insert gif later)

Just really impeccable.

Later, when he gets flustered and a bit mad at himself for Top being so smooth in the bookstore? So, so cute. He just nails the energy that is needed to understand Mew. Mew is confident in himself and his values and that is going to be an important focal point when the story unfolds. Yes, he takes this man home that Cheum wants him to get with and who he realizes is making a move on him. I believe he earnestly felt a bit frisky and after getting drunk on the atmosphere in the bar (I don't believe he actually had any alcohol) he was at a point of "I am hot. This guy wants me and supposedly is a good lay, so why not try it". His romantic bone got activated when things got too heated, but he was into it until then.

Again: great choice of Mew responding to the first kiss a bit awkwardly and tentatively (he might have kissed before but not an expert like Top) and then getting eaten up by Top but also getting the hang of it quickly. Mew is the type of person who is very sexual, but the importance of the connection to the other person still outweighs that (just look at Book spreading his legs in the opening/ him emphasizing that the chemistry didn't work out in the past with other people).

And as a character, I am quite intrigued. There seems to be a tentative consensus that Mew is actually good at reading people and very much not naive, and that he will ruin Top later on. Some think that comes from a place of an "I can fix him attitude", others, that Mew plans on screwing with Top from the get-go.

I believe neither is true. If he were to screw with Top from the beginning, there is nothing coming out of that for him. Mew is genuinely a nice person with some tiny barbs (that jab at Boston in front of Top?). He can hold his own, but I don't think he would put in the energy to ruin a guy's life for the fun of it. I also don't believe he is naive to a degree when he sees Top's playboy nature and is convinced that getting with him will change that. Based on his bookish nature, I believe he has a very romantic view of things. Top getting with him won't change Top, but getting into a committed relationship with someone you have amazing chemistry with? I don't think in Mew's world there is a nice person who wouldn't want to stay with that person (and there is an important difference to "this relationship will fix him"). Based on the trailer, he might be actually right (the stability of someone staying with him might be important for Top to reckon with his drug addiction). I do think he errs in the degree to which Top is a nice guy. Mew knows that Top can pull people left and right - he got hit on immediately after running into him - and Top tried to fuck him on the first night they hung out with each other. But Top's ploy to show interest in Mew beyond sex and talk openly about admiring his attitude and his book reading paired with engaging in deeper conversations + he is a friend of a friend? Yes, Mew is less naive than I expected, but Top (while not coming out of it unscathed) will surprise him in a bad way. And at that point, it won't even be about Top being his first.

2. Boston

Finally, GMMTV gave Neo a main role and he is destroying every scene he is in. I am biased towards slutty characters, particularly when they have somewhat of a moral code but are missing a poker face. Every face Neo makes in episode 1 is such a journey. I am gleefully clapping my hands at everything he does. The way he smirks, his face when he judges someone? Such good "Sure Jan" energy.

(might insert gif later)

Boston is a bit egoistic and a dick, but he cares. And the man has no poker face to save himself. His mild confusion about Nick's gameplay? Him deciding to fuck him anyways, because while maybe not as suave as Boston likes them, he is still cute. How could he not look at Top in a pathetic way or look haughtily disgusted at Top's behaviour around Mew? He'd have taken the crown for side-eyes if it wasn't for Sand.

As for morals? He will hit on people who, on a surface-level, are not available, but he is also down for a threesome when it turns out a couple is only available as a package and I am down for that. He is clearly weirded out by finding Nick's selfie on his phone but he will roll with it if his dick is interested. Nothing but respect. He will sleep with Top while he is dating Mew, but I do believe he does feel love for his friends. He will just be a shitty person from time to time.

And I like that - unlike Ray and Top - he might not have any "deeper" issues. He's not a slut because of some trauma or because he needs sex as a tool for more self-worth etc. No. He just likes sex and I applaud him for acting on it (insert me shaking hands with him).

I cannot over-state how fond I feel of Neo for giving it his all. He plays a slut, so he will have top-notch chemistry with everyone in any scene. He's pissy with Top? You can sense that he wants that man despite himself and that they fucked each other silly before. And Neo is willing to make all the right noises (when Drake pulls down his pants?). I feel like my favourite of the week will change every time, but Boston might always be in the top 3. He promises to entertain every week.

3. Top

He is so good at acting as a player.

Walking ahead of Mew in the bar, waiting until Mew looks at him from behind and then slowly turning around? Pulling himself up on the kitchen aisle to fully cover Mew with his body? Fantastic job.

(might insert gif later)

It helps that he has the fitting physicality (the whole cast is gorgeous but the way he looks, down to the type of underwear he wears, screams fuckboi), but the coldness in his eyes is getting to me. He can say despicable shit and still look attractive and he can make his eyes smile, so Mew will let his guard down while having a void behind that. It is good to know that he actually has some issues, because Top at the moment terrifies me. Yes, Mew turned out to be more self-assertive and steadfast when he might have thought, but a lesser predatory playboy would've given up in order to not look foolish trying to get into a relationship (even with hidden intentions) with a virgin, but Top doesn't care. Mew only sleeping with him once they are boyfriends is also a game and interesting to him. So far, I haven't detected any genuine romantic emotions towards Mew or anyone else. While he thinks Mew is interesting, the only time I detected honesty was when he was smug about Boston wanting him so much it made him look stupid.

4. Nick

Mark has a talent for playing babybois™️ and here he is getting down and dirty with privacy regulations and customers as Nick and still retains that energy. A mature version of it. I love Nick. I would already shed tears for him as Boston is going to ruin him if it wasn't for his blatant disregard of anything that is holy when handling customer's phones (not to distract,, but this actually happened to me and it was absolutely not sexy and I am still lowkey terrified that anything got shared with other people) so I am just cheering for him on the sidelines, curious whether he will manage to actually escalate things once he finds out what Boston is up to. Nick is such an interesting mixture between "I cannot believe this unbelievably hot guy just eyed me up like a piece of meat" and "Yes, obviously I have game because I will get down in the middle of the store with the door open".

(might insert gif later)

I'm not even sure he usually has one-night stands, he enjoys being manhandled but also???? he is not afraid of transgressing moral rules. Very solid acting, Mark can make his eyes sparkle (see the point on babybois) and I need them to sparkle with revenge.

5. Sand

First things first (heh), I wish they had done something with his singing. First is wonderful, but he cannot sing and since his role is supposedly a singer, I just wish they had helped him out a bit more with that.

Otherwise: I love his line delivery and the eye-rolling this show lets him do. Going by the trailer, Ray might be the first guy he is interested in and I want to see how they tie that in with this kind of series. His and Khaotung's scenes were very slow in terms of character development, but I am excited. Him preventing Ray from drunk-driving has got me thanking him for all eternity.

6. Ray

Khaotung as always delivers a stellar performance. When he smiles so drunkenly with content when Mew mentions his name? I know that he has issues, but he is also very likeable deep down somewhere. Besides the jealousy, he is right to not trust Top and it will be delightful to have him watch navigate what is jealousy and what is warranted concern.

7. Cheum & P'Yo

Cheum's straightforward attitude really acts as a great bridge between the very dysfunctional site of their little group and Mew. Not sure whether the red wristband in the beginning means that she is indeed in a relationship (at these parties it can also just signify someone who doesn't want to get hit on - side-eying you, Boston) but I was a bit disappointed she didn't get more screen-time in episode 1. I am a bit mad at gmmtv for putting actresses in the official main cast and either side-lining them in the promotions or having their roles vanish in the show (or both). I like that in the little montage she witnesses all the "cute" things Top does for Mew so it is believable that she'd be in favor of him dating Mew after a week. Like her acting, incredible voice. More of her please.

"It's alright. You are hot." took me out. I love Jennie, I just hope that she also gets proper screen-time.

8. unnamed fling played by Drake

Last time I saw him was in "My Tee" which I got very confusing vibes from and by extension wasn't really sure whether I would feel any of the actors future performances. He commited and delivered a fantastic sex scene with Neo. I will never question P'Jojos choices.

#ofts #only friends the series #only friends #just judging by the amounts of thoughts I had the ranking is very self-explanatory #but i am so excited for everyone #i still need to reblog all the posts from saturday #this is the first free minute i got to engage with anything concerning this show

54 notes · View notes

kissmyspaceace · 2 years

Text

Papa's New Assistant (Papa Emeritus II)

Pairing: Papa Emeritus II/Reader Warnings/contents: NSFW, rough absolute hump-machine Secondo Word count: 5.149 BASED ON THIS ASK

AO3 link ________________________________________

“Sister (Y/N). Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

You closed the office door behind you, before bowing down respectfully. “You wanted to speak to me, Sister Imperator?”

“Yes, yes”, Sister Imperator confirmed, “Indeed. As you may know, the position of Papa Emeritus II’s personal assistant is still unoccupied. The position is not exactly the most sought after, I’m afraid.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “I have heard about that, yes.”

Her lips formed a straight line, as she gave a single nod. “Exactly. Now, I have called you here because you are an exceptionally diligent Sister within the ministry. Eager to learn, willing to help fellow siblings of sin in need. Even if a day should get longer than usual, your positive attitude never falters. The others should take you for an example, really. But- I haven’t called you here solely to sing your praise, no.”

You waited patiently for her to continue.

She cleared her throat, and spoke further. “I’ve been wanting to assign the position of Papa’s personal clergy assistant to you, Sister.”

You raised your brows. “To me?”

“Indeed. I think you would be a good pick for this task.”

“I feel honoured, Sister Imperator, really. But I’m not sure whether I will be able to serve the position well-”, you spoke softly, uttering your concern. Sister Imperator cut you off.

“I am sure you will grow with your responsibilities, Sister (Y/N). I would ask you to at least give this new position a chance. You are desperately needed.”

Thinking for a second, you furrowed your brows. Resistance was pretty much futile, that much you knew. And apart from that- how bad could it be to just give it a try? You smiled softly, bowing down slightly once more. “I will give it my best.” Sister Imperator declared her approval by clapping her hands together gleefully. “Delightful! I knew I could count on you, dear.”

You’d been briefed about your daily tasks and duties by Sister Imperator, and she had given you a few books and documents that might come in handy for you. Your daily schedule would look quite different from your previous one. Not that you’d mind, of course. Maybe this would be a bit of fresh air in your life. Turning another corner in the hall, you finally arrived at Papa Emeritus II’ study. Straightening your gown and habit, you took a deep breath and gently knocked on the door. “Come in!”

The voice was muffled by the thick wooden door, but it was no less strong and determining. Here we go, you thought and carefully opened the large door.

Entering his study, you presented yourself with a polite expression and a respectful bow. “Good morning, Papa. Sister Imperator has assigned me the position of your clergy assistant.”

As you looked back up from your bow, you could see him sit at his desk, mismatched irises piercing through you. His expression was as grim as always. Many siblings of sin had been sent running by these eyes, but not you. You merely reciprocated the eye contact with a gentle gaze.

Papa Emeritus II rose from his seat, and walked towards you. He stopped several feet in front of you, eyeing you up critically. “What is your name?”, he asked.

“I am Sister (Y/N), Papa”, you responded.

“(Y/N)...”, he repeated with a low voice, barely more than a rumble. “Very well.”

Without any further words, he turned on his heel and lifted his hand with a flick of his wrist, motioning you to follow. He led you to the neighboring room, to a shelf full of documents. "You are familiar with Latin, yes? These documents have been rediscovered fairly recently, but they're all over the place. Sort them."

You nodded. "Would you like me to sort them by subject, age or alphabetical order?"

Papa looked at you, expression unchanging. He seemed to think. "I think it would be best to combine these three options as well as possible."

"Yes, Papa. I will get to work right away."

You rolled up your sleeves and started sorting the scattered piles of documents. You started by sorting them by subject, first roughly - then reading into them a little bit, adjusting the order. Secondly, you sorted the individual piles by alphabet. Luckily, their age was for the most part about the same. Making sure to touch the old parchment with the greatest care and caution, you neatly stacked them next to each other. It must have taken you a good while, but finally you were finished. You put small post-it notes on the piles, displaying their subject and went back to the other room, to inform Papa.

Announcing your return with a small knock on the door frame, you stood and waited for his attention patiently. He took a few seconds to finish whatever he had just started, until letting his gaze travel to you. "Yes? Do you need help?"

"I have finished my task. I would merely ask you to perhaps have a look at it, and to let me know whether I have done it correctly", you responded.

He raised one eyebrow, but raised from his desk to follow you to the shelf nonetheless. His eyes scanned the piles, and he flipped through the documents. You were amazed by his quick reading. Latin truly must have been his speciality.

At last, he let go of the papers and gave a single, approving nod. "I have nothing to correct here. Good work."

You bowed your head respectfully. "How can I be of further service?"

The remaining tasks he gave you were no issue for you either, you followed his instructions diligently and the rest of the day went by smoothly. He sent you off in the evening and you spent the rest of your evening relaxing in your room.

This is how it pretty much went for the days and weeks to come. You could see why your fellow siblings of sin were hesitant to work with Papa Secondo, he wasn’t the most… approachable member of the clergy. But you didn’t mind. He was very determining and stern in his tone, but he gave clear instructions. And if you got something wrong, he corrected you with patience. His criticism was always constructive, even on days where his mood wasn’t the best, which you appreciated.

It was another regular day in his study, when you assisted him in translating and organizing Latin scriptures for the black mass. Every now and then he grumbled, shifting through the papers, taking notes. Meanwhile, you were silently working on a document about the deeper meaning and interpretation of the seven sins. The hours went by and afternoon turned into evening, while evening turned into late evening, making the workday much longer than usual.

"Sister (Y/N)", Papa's voice suddenly broke the silence, "Could you have a look at this paragraph?"

You hurried over to his side and looked at the text he was pointing at. "Yes?"

"I feel like it should be translated as 'good come to those who relish in the sins known to us by heart', but it does not sound right to me. What is it that feels off?" He massaged his temple with two fingers as the corners of his mouth twitched downwards.

Looking at the words carefully, you brought your fingers up to your chin, pondering over the translation. "I see what you mean. Maybe we can translate it a little more freely? I've been taught that sometimes, it's the better alternative for the sake of aesthetics."

Papa nodded slowly. "Go on."

"Perhaps, 'good come to those who relish in the sins we all know by heart'? It could work well, considering that it's spoken to the members of the sermon", you implied, leaning over the document a bit more to get a better look at the remaining text passages. Your shoulder gently brushed against his as you leaned over the desk. “Oh, pardon”, you smiled at him apologetically, but continued to look at the documents. From the corner of your eye, you felt like you saw him tense up, his eyes staring at the papers in front of him. You paid it no further mind, and focused on the translations.

The remainder of the work day was fairly short lived. You could tell that Papa had lost his focus, and probably developed a nasty headache. But you did not stop your work until he told you to. “Sister, leave it be for tonight. It’s been a long day, and I will need you back here tomorrow. Preferably not absolutely sleep-deprived”, he groaned, massaging his eyelids.

Bowing your head respectfully, you obliged. “Of course, Papa. Good night, rest well.”

With that you left his study, and went for your quarters.

Papa Emeritus II sat in his office chair, trying to regain his focus. It was a hopeless case, and he knew that. He kept wondering about the actual cause of his distraction, but in the end he just assumed that it was because of the long day. He sighed, and leaned back, closing his eyes for a short moment. His mind went back to the moment when you had stood directly next to him, and accidentally touched him when you leaned over the documents on his desk. There had been something about that moment. He was pretty sure that the two of you had never had any physical contact before that, so maybe it has just been unexpected. Papa shrugged it off as a side effect of his stress, and finally got up to return to his quarters as well.

That night, however, he had a dream. He dreamed that you were in his study, just like every day. But this time, your hands were all over him, as you stood behind him sitting in his office chair and gently massaged his shoulders. He could hear your sweet, gentle voice, but it sounded distant. As your hands traveled down his chest and he could feel your hot breath on his ear, it felt as if he was on fire. Before anything more was revealed to him, he woke up. That dream left him with nothing but confusion and lust. Maybe he had been too preoccupied with work recently. Maybe he should call one of the sisters to his room, for relief? But no, the thought did not please him. He decided to ignore it, and fell back asleep.

The next day, you made your way back to Papa Secondo’s study. You felt a little more tired than usual, admittedly. While you had managed to get enough sleep, your body still reminded you that working for this long was not appreciated much.

With a gentle knock, you let yourself back into his office.

"Good morning, Papa. I hope you slept well", you chirped, giving him a warm smile.

"Good morning, dear Sister. I slept fairly well, apart from a strange dream. Thank you", he replied.

"Oh, I hope it was not a nightmare of some sorts?"

He went quiet for a few seconds. "No, I wouldn’t exactly call it that. It was not a bad dream."

"Then I'm glad", you replied, gathering up the papers for today.

Papa nodded thoughtfully. "Let us get back to work, Sister. There is still a lot to do."

The days went on, and with united forces you managed to tame the chaos of translation just in time for the black mass by the end of the week. After that, the days weren’t quite as long. But you felt like the air had changed around you, around the study. Sometimes you felt Papa Secondo's eyes pierce through you as you were focused on your work, but when you looked over to him, he was always focused on his work. You didn't mind him looking at you, of course. Only the eeriness of the way he did it made shivers run down your spine. You just hoped that you hadn’t unintentionally drawn his rage upon you, even though you wouldn’t even know what you possibly could have done.

Every now and then, there would still be long workdays. On these days, at some point, he'd always send you off to your room, remaining in his study alone for a little while longer. You paid it no mind, thinking he'd just want some alone time outside of his rooms.

But, oh, he had much different thoughts cursing through his mind. Ever since he has had that wicked dream, he'd ever so often find himself enraptured by your mere presence. As soon as his focus got lost in the late nights, it wandered to you and only you. Images flashed in his mind, where he'd see himself taking you, discovering every inch of your body, having you whimper and moan beneath him. It's not like it was only because of that dream, though. He hadn’t expected anything much when you had first stepped into his office many many weeks ago, assuming that you'd most likely either not live up to his expectations, or quit relatively soon. He was willing to accept that a sister could only do so much, knowing very well that his work could be a little much for a simple member of the clergy. But you on the other hand were different. Eager to learn, calm and quiet but unafraid, focused and diligent. Always stepping into his study with a smile, never letting his grim expression irritate you. Your knowledge in Latin came in handy, and it was more than the average sibling of sin had. He figured that this was most likely the reason Sister Imperator had chosen you for him.

Papa Emeritus II had started wanting you for more than just his daily work, though. And day after day he’d tell himself that next time, he’d have you. The moment you'd leave his office, he'd be frustrated with himself, that yet again he hadn’t managed to get closer to you. What was it that was stopping him? Was it the fear of rejection? He couldn’t tell. He'd never had this issue with any of the sisters. He was used to just taking what he wanted, but with you it was different.

In the mornings he’d wait impatiently until you entered his study, your ‘good morning’ sounding like music to his ears. And he loved how your scent would fill the room bit by bit, if you moved a lot and talked a lot it would grow even stronger. He enjoyed your overall presence, and your polite distance only made him crave you more.

You on the other hand were oblivious to Papa Secondo's internal struggles. His face did not give away much and you didn’t dare to assume or interpret anything weird into his behaviour. You'd heard about him, sure. That he'd had many, many sisters and even more women outside of the ministry. That he'd treat himself to maybe two or three sisters at once sometimes, and he'd take them like another would go about eating their dinner. He treated lust and desire as a very casual thing, and at the same time relished in it. You had heard that it had led him to… lose focus for a period of time.

But the Papa Secondo you had gotten to know as of recently seemed so different. He was working hard and the sermons he led were outstanding, inspiring one to ponder about some things a little more deeply. Every now and then he would keep eye contact with you for a nearly painful amount of time during a sermon. You tried to keep your composure but it still made you feel a little strange.

He was a man you certainly looked up to in a few ways, but mostly for his amount of knowledge and his occasional wisdom. You had learned a lot in the time you'd worked with him so far, which you appreciated immensely. Furthermore, his aura was rather interesting than appalling to you. You felt that there was something about him to figure out, like a man full of secrets. You'd simply brush off comments from the siblings with a laugh, never minding their inability to understand how you could work with him.

One day, however, everything changed.

It was another one of those long days. Latin scriptures waiting to be sorted and translated had piled up on Papa Secondo's desk, and you spent the majority of the day working through them. By evening, the piles were organized and clean, like perfect little bundles of smooth parchment. The translations had gone relatively smooth. Turns out, the two of you made a good team when it came to working on translations of the old scripts. Nonetheless, it had been a lot, and a glance at the clock told you that it was already way past your usual working hours. Papa Secondo leaned back in his chair with a rumbly sigh of relief. “Finally. I think that would be it for now.”

“Yes, thank goodness. I believe staying focused wouldn’t have worked out for much longer. There’s only so much a human brain can take, after all”, you replied with a small chuckle.

He nodded and hummed in agreement, while his eyes followed you as you tidied up some last few things, getting ready to take your leave. After a bit of cleaning and stacking books back into the shelf, you stood in front of his desk and respectfully bowed your head to bid him goodnight. As you looked back up at him, however, he was staring. He was staring intensively. It felt like his eyes were piercing through you, nailing you to the ground you stood on. His gaze seemed cold and unforgiving, and the movement of his jaw suggested that he was grinding his teeth.

“Papa, please pardon me for asking, but… is everything alright? Did I do anything to anger you?”, you asked hesitantly.

He kept glaring for a moment, until he lowered his gaze a bit, and exhaled loudly through his nose. “You did not anger me, sister. Never have. But I’m afraid that… not everything is alright”, he grumbled, as he rose from his seat. “What is it, Papa? If I can be of any aid, please do tell me.” You grew worried.

With slow, heavy steps he walked around the desk, to face you directly. His grim expression never changing, his gaze barely softening.

“It’s you, sister”, he said in a low rumble.

“Me?”, you asked in shock, your heart skipping a beat, “I’m sorry for upsetting you- what can I do? Where did I make mistakes?”

Papa Emeritus II shook his head slowly. “As I said, no mistakes have been made. It’s not about what you do, it’s about who you are, what you are. And I am growing tired of letting this distract me any further. I refuse to let it feed my frustration and tension.” He stepped even closer now, never breaking eye contact. “I don’t understand”, you mumbled, starting to feel a little intimidated.

“Enough of the empty words now. Let me show you what has been on my mind, sister”, Papa Secondo growled.

Before you even knew what was going on, he grabbed you and pulled to flush against his chest with a rough, quick move, simultaneously knocking the air out of your lungs as your chest collided with his. He held you close with one hand on your back, applying just enough pressure to tell you that resistance would be futile. His other hand reached up to the back of your head, entangling in your hair and tugging your head back, making you whimper a little. Any further noises of yours were quieted as he slammed his lips onto yours without a warning. The kiss was hungry, needy and felt almost primal in nature. You were too stunned to even react. He pulled away for a brief moment, looking for any sign of disgust, rejection or disapproval on your face - but all he found was utter confusion, and a blushing mess. He leaned down to your ear, and whispered: “If you do not consent, sister, please let me know. I would hate to push you into something you don't actually want…"

It took you a few seconds to finally get a hold of yourself. "I- I don't know what to say. I didn't know- I mean, I never thought you'd feel this way about me", you admitted, stammering a bit.

He smiled a little. You couldn’t recall ever having seen him smile, even if it was just a little bit. He took a strand of your hair and twirled it between his index finger and his thumb. "I didn't exactly plan or calculate my attraction towards you in any way, and yet… here we are", he tilted his head a little, and stared deeply into your eyes, "So, what do you say?"

His mismatched irises pinned you down. You felt like you were close to melting into a puddle on the floor. You'd never considered this a possibility, but in that moment, every fiber of your being screamed "yes".

"I think… I feel similar, Papa", you said, with your voice barely being more than a whisper. Your cheeks were burning up and your heart was threatening to burst out of your chest at any moment.

The pleased shimmer in his eyes was like a spark igniting a flame, and the deep growl he produced was surely enough to make a sister lose her footing.

He trapped you in another heated kiss, holding you so close that you feared you might get crushed against him. But truth be told, you didn’t mind one bit. You gently placed your hands on his chest and let yourself get lost in the moment. His hand was still tangled in your hair and his grip tightened. He brushed his tongue against your lips, initiating a deeper kiss, which you happily went along with.

Papa spun the two of you around, backing you up against the edge of his desk. Sliding one hand to the back of your thigh, he lifted you up to sit on the tabletop. As your hand reached behind you looking for stability, you came in contact with all the piles of sorted papers, making you flinch away.

Papa Secondo broke the kiss, looking at the occupied tabletop with a grunt. He reached behind you and swiped the papers off the furniture with one swift move of his arm, sending them flying across the room. He pushed you back a bit, spreading your legs so he could settle between them, pinning you against the wooden surface.

His mouth wandered to your neck, where he started kissing and biting on your skin, earning small moans and whimpers from you. His left hand groped your breast through your clothing, while his right hand was stroking up and down your thigh. He seemed desperate to touch you anywhere, everywhere he could reach. As he moved even closer to you, you could feel evidence of his desire pushing against the fabric of your underwear, subsequently rubbing against your most sensitive spot. Your tunic was already pushed up, pooling around your hips, exposing your thigh-high stockings and your garters. Papa's eyes wandered down, catching a glimpse of them. He seemed to be fond of your choice in undergarments, since he uttered something between a satisfied hum and a feral growl.

"I'm really sorry, sister", he panted, "I cannot wait any longer." Fumbling with his robe and then his zipper, he freed himself, and pushed your panties aside. He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, making you moan softly.

"So ready for me already, Sister. Delightful."

You put a hand over your face, slightly embarrassed at his remark. At this point, you must have been red as a tomato. A dissatisfied grunt escaped his throat.

"Do not hide from me. I can see you. I can feel your excitement", he hissed. With one swift, merciless thrust he pushed into you. You screamed at the feeling of being stretched this suddenly, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as your body tried to adjust to his size in the short given time.

Papa Secondo didn’t move for a good moment, relishing in the sight of you struggling to take him. The fire in his eyes grew bolder, and his pupils dilated. The only sounds filling the room at this moment were his heavy breathing and your tiny whimpers.

His hands went to support your shaking legs, guiding them to wrap around his hips. "Relax, sister. You're doing well", he hummed, sliding his gloved hand underneath your tunic to gently stroke up and down your sides. "I've been patient with you, but I refuse to restrain myself any further. I hope you're ready."

His voice was deep and menacing, just like his gaze upon you. He pulled out almost entirely, only to thrust back into you with full force. You yelped, whether it was out of pleasure or pain, you didn’t know. It felt like both. He started off slow, but soon picked up a merciless pace, and you grabbed the edge of the table in an effort to counter his movements. The heavy furniture creaked under every thrust and you prayed that it would withstand Secondo's blind sexual rage. He could not keep his hands at the same spot for too long, longing to touch you everywhere he could. His eyes spoke for him, and they clearly showed that his hunger was not being stilled, in fact, it was only growing.

He grabbed a fistful of your tunic and tugged it upwards. "Off with it", he growled. You lifted your arms and flinched as he tore it off over your head in one swift, rough movement. Tossing it aside with a snarl, he let his gaze wander over the newly exposed skin. Your bra was still blocking his eyes from devouring you fully, and while you were partially grateful for that, you knew it wouldn’t last long. Grabbing you by the side of your neck, he pulled you up towards him, capturing you in another heated kiss. His other hand wand wandered up your back and undid the clasp of your bra. Cool air hit your chest as he tore it off your body and tossed it aside to join your tunic on the floor, making you gasp. He used the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth, capturing yours in another uncoordinated dance. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning into the kiss, as his thrusts changed pace again. He pulled out slowly, and thrusted back in with a harsh snap of his hips.

Papa Secondo growled, breaking the kiss. "Wonderful, Sister (Y/N). Marvelous. But I want more. I need more", he groaned into your ear. His voice sounded close to feral at this point, sending shivers down your spine and making you clench around him. Lifting you up by your bottom, he swiftly carried you across the room, pinning you against one of the book shelves. The wooden planks pushed into the skin of your back, as he continued his rough thrusting. His face paint was a little smudged in some places, and he breathed heavily. The determined look in his eyes told you he was far from done, however. His mouth latched onto the flesh between your neck and shoulder, and you yelped as he bit down, sucking on the skin, eager to leave his mark. You feared that you'd end up breaking if he continued like this, but at the same time, the balanced mix between pain and pleasure drove you insane. His thrusts became faster and harder after a while and his eyes grew cloudy with lust. His thumb traveled between you and started rubbing your clit in skilfull circles, well calculated. He knew exactly what he was doing and it had you approach your release at a rapid speed. You looked at him with pleading eyes and he gave a single nod. "Come undone, Sister. You may."

Digging your nails into his shoulders, you let your orgasm rush through you. It had you scream out, and Papa bit down on your neck again, grunting as he felt you clench around him. He picked up speed even more, mindlessly ramming into you. The bookshelf was shaking and creaking with every thrust, a few books tumbling down around you. His grip on your body tightened and you were sure his fingers would leave marks on your thighs and your behind, just like the ones he'd left on your neck already. You moaned and mewled, desperately holding onto him as he quickly approached his own peak. And soon, he did - with two deep, powerful thrusts, bottoming out, growling and moaning, producing a guttural sound you'd never heard before. You could feel him throb inside you as he filled you, a seemingly never-ending spill of his seed flooding your walls. After a long moment, he ended his peak with a few slow, shaky thrusts, and finally stilled. He rested his forehead on your collarbone, breathing heavily. Silence followed as both of you tried to catch your breaths.

"Was that alright, Papa?", you asked in a breathy voice, cracking a small smile.

He answered with a long, deep hum. Then, he carried you over to an armchair and sat down, leaving you to sit on his lap. He was spent, but satisfied, and let his gaze wander over your body lazily. You'd been stripped of everything but your panties, stockings and garterbelt. His gloved hands tenderly stroked your thighs, as well as up and down your sides. You sighed contentedly.

Papa Secondo pulled you closer, so you were resting against his chest and wrapped his arms around you.

"Sister (Y/N), can I ask you something?", he asked in a raspy voice.

"Yes, of course."

"Do tell me… have I been too rough with you?"

You were surprised, to say the least. There was a genuine tone of concern in his voice.

"Well, truth be told, Papa… you were not exactly gentle with me", you admitted, laughing shyly. You felt his body stiffen against you. "But… that does not mean I didn’t like it."

He let out a deep chuckle. "If I weren’t as spent as I am, I would take you again right here, sister", he growled into your ear, sending another deep red blush to your cheeks.

"If you allow, Papa, I wouldn’t mind doing that again sometime."

"Good", he hummed, "Because I'm not done with you yet."

You chuckled bashfully, and let your gaze wander across the room.

“Ah, Papa- there might be something we should attend to. Again”, you said.

“Hm?”

“All those papers we sorted today.”

His gaze followed yours, stopping at floor level next to his desk. “Satanas, I’ll be damned.”

#papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa secondo #secondo emeritus #ghost band #ghost band fanfiction #ghost reader insert #clergy assistant hc #minors dont look #papa secondo hc #the band ghost fanfic #the band ghost

339 notes · View notes

polutrope · 9 months

Note

#13 doing crafts with maeglin Celegorm and Aredhel?

Love this prompt! There will be a part 2 to this, hopefully tomorrow, using another of your prompts. ~1.3k words, featuring Aredhel/Celegorm, tiny Maeglin, plus Elenwë and tiny Idril. Rated G. Posting these to AO3, here. Prompt list. Little context: Aredhel and Celegorm are related by adoption only (Feanor was adopted). They dated in university and recently got back together after Aredhel's divorce. She and Maeglin are temporarily living with Turgon and Elenwe. See Beleria Cast of Characters for more!

Aredhel plopped Maeglin on the ground at the end of the walkway and fumbled through her hip bag for her house keys on the way to the front door.

“You’re sure your brother’s not gonna be home?” Celegorm asked.

She glanced back at him. He was hoisting one of their two stuffed shopping bags over his shoulder to free a hand for Maeglin to hold. Huan trotted beside them.

“No,” Aredhel answered, “he’s been spending most days at the university now that classes are over. Says it’s quieter than home.”

“And Elenwë?” Celegorm asked.

“Idril has swimming lessons after school. Then they usually go visit my mom and dad afterwards.”

“She’s already doing swimming lessons? Isn’t she, like, three?”

Aredhel chuckled as she turned the key in the lock. “No, Tyelko. She’s five. She’s in first grade.” She pushed the door open. “Hello?” she called.

“I thought you said no one was home.”

“Well,” Aredhel grinned, “you never know. A lot of us live here!”

Celegorm eyed her warily as he passed over the threshold behind her. He kicked off his boots and proceeded to the kitchen where he dumped the bags on the dining table and flung his bulky coat onto the couch. As Aredhel hung her own coat in the closet, she watched Celegorm help Maeglin onto a chair. They set about unpacking the craft supplies.

“Hey!” Aredhel said. “Don’t bring that all out yet. Turno’s gonna kill me if we don’t put down something to protect the table! And Lómion, you need to take your boots off, dear.”

“Oh yeah,” said Maeglin, seating himself to yank them off. He threw them on the floor and Aredhel sighed. She let it go: proper shoe etiquette would be a battle for another day -- one when she wasn't also fighting against Celegorm's unhelpful behaviour modelling.

“Okay,” Aredhel said to her son, “why don’t you go get your paints and brushes from our room?” Maeglin hopped off the chair and trundled off down the hall. “Tyelko, help me set up here.”

A few minutes later, the three of them were seated around the table, now adequately protected by a bright yellow vinyl tablecloth. Open tubs of paint, each speared with a fat paintbrush, were lined up down the middle. Celegorm tore open little bags of glitter, pompoms, googly eyes, and many sequins shaped like stars and trees and snowflakes and (for some reason) dinosaurs, then handed each of them off to Maeglin. He in turn inspected each new material with wonder before dumping the bag’s contents into recycled plastic containers.

Aredhel carefully removed coloured paper sheets from the pad and spread them over the table.

Yule pop classics spilled from the speakers and Huan, mercifully, was curled up contentedly on the couch after a long walk earlier that day.

Maeglin clapped his hands. “Craft time!” he said gleefully.

He grabbed two sheets of paper and shoved them in Celegorm’s direction. “You fold, I decorate,” he instructed.

“That’s it? I just fold?”

“Yes, and make sure it’s straight,” Maeglin said soberly. “Don’t be sloppy.”

Celegorm laughed.

“All right!” Aredhel had pulled a crumpled list from her bag and was smoothing it over the table. She counted up the names. “Looks like we need… twenty cards? I am probably forgetting someone. Let’s see. My brothers, Mom and Dad, your brothers, your parents, Grandma, Finarfin and Eärwen, Finrod, Angrod, Aegnor, Galadriel. Any other family?”

“Orodreth,” said Celegorm.

“Oh, shizzle, you’re right. I always forget him.”

“Who’s Oro’deth?” Maeglin asked.

“You haven’t met him yet, Lo-lo. He’s in the army.”

“Does he have a gun?” Maeglin asked, amazed.

“He probably does, yes.” Aredhel added Orodreth to her list. “Tyelko, do you think I need to do two for Amrod and Amras?”

“Yes,” said Celegorm.

“Really? Okay, well that’s another one then.” Aredhel set the list aside. “We better get to work. Whose card would you like to make, Lo?”

“I wanna make one for Uncle Finno.”

“Great! He’ll love that.”

“I’m gonna draw a spider on it because he’s Spiderman.”

“That’s right, he is, sweetie.” Aredhel grinned remembering Maeglin’s enthusiastic reception of her brother’s Halloween costume.

“A spider. How festive,” Celegorm drawled.

Maeglin snapped his head up to look at him.

“Don’t worry,” said Aredhel, “Celegorm is just grumpy because he’s not a superhero like Uncle Finno.” She winked.

“Oh.” Maeglin frowned, thinking. “You can be a superhero, too. You’re… Dogman!”

Celegorm shook his head, but Aredhel watched the flush of satisfaction claim her boyfriend’s cheeks at his new title. They shared a smile across the table.

Gradually, the table filled with bedazzled handmade cards, laid out to dry.

Maeglin, however, was unimpressed with his adult companions’ work.

“That’s it?” He wrinkled his nose at Celegorm’s latest uninspired creation: a green tree decorated with sequins against a red background. “You should put more effort, Tyelko.”

“Noted, boss,” said Celegorm.

“Put a dog on it,” Maeglin suggested, and turned his attention back to the card he’d spent the last twenty minutes on. He had almost completed the border of alternating star and dinosaur sequins around the folded blue sheet.

“Who’s that card for?” Aredhel asked.

“Idril,” he replied. “Blue is her favourite colour, she told me. And I like dinosaurs.”

“That’s sweet,” said Aredhel, stroking his mop of black hair from his eyes.

“I like Idril,” Maeglin said.

At that moment, a key clicked in the door. “Hello?” It was Elenwë. “We’re home!” There was some muttering and rustling, then Elenwë strode into view.

“Doggy!” With a delighted shriek, Idril darted past her mother and clambered onto the couch beside Huan. The dog obligingly lifted his chin to receive her pats and scritches.

“Oh my goodness,” Elenwë said as she entered the dining area and caught sight of the crafting chaos cluttering the table. “You have been busy! Oh, hi, Celegorm.” There was a tense moment of silence; then she smiled. “Nice to see you.”

Celegorm exhaled audibly. “You too, Elenwë. You look well.”

“Shoot, what time is it?” Aredhel said. “Sorry, El, I thought we’d be done by the time you got home. We can clean up—”

“It’s no problem,” Elenwë said, pulling some leftovers out of the refrigerator. “Maybe we can make some with you, what do you think, Idril? Do you want to do some crafts?”

Upon seeing Idril, Maeglin had risen to his knees on the chair and assumed a stooped, defensive position over his card like some sort of gargoyle. His wide eyes bore into Idril, but she was far too preoccupied snuggling with Huan to notice.

“Yeah, okay,” Idril agreed.

“No!” Maeglin snarled.

“What?” Aredhel and Elenwë asked at once.

“No, we can’t make cards with her!”

“Why on earth not, Lo?" Aredhel asked. "You just said, you like Idril. You’re making her a—”

“No, I don’t! Am not!” Maeglin snapped, and turned his glare on Aredhel. “I never said that. She’s mean, I don’t want her to make cards with us.”

Idril looked up from patting the dog. “Fine,” she said, crossing her arms and scowling. “I won’t.”

After some conciliatory efforts on the part of both their mothers, Maeglin and Idril’s dispute was settled, and the children agreed it would actually be quite nice if they all made cards together.

Plates of leftover lasagna and salad were passed around to fuel their efforts. After dinner, Celegorm took Huan for a walk and came back with a bag of marshmallows and a box powdered hot chocolate from the corner store, winning the adoration of the kids and the intrepid gratitude of Elenwë and Aredhel, who exchanged knowing looks as both of their children downed cups of sugar at 8pm.

It was in this way that Turgon, coming in exhausted after a ten-hour day of grading papers, found them.

#aredhel #celegorm #maeglin #idril #elenwe #holiday prompts #modern au #beleria au #my fic

26 notes · View notes