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#as a general rule I never drink; never much liked the taste of it
famewolf · 1 month
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a shot of whiskey at night has been doing wonders for my nerves. not to sound like I got my prescription from a cowboy-doctor or something, but it's near instant relief
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madelynraemunson · 1 month
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I’m not sure if you’re taking requests atm but if you are, would you be willing to do an Eddie x reader oneshot/short series based on Sober + Sober II by Lorde? The idea is stuck in my head but I trust you to execute it more than anyone else <3
hngnngh comfort eddie please save me comfort eddie
music is such an important part of life, and a vital part of story-telling in my eyes. so thank you for this!!<3
will you sway with me? go astray with me?
bartender!situationship?eddie x fem!billy's girlfriend!reader
CW: alcoholism, mentions of heavy drinking/alcoholism, fluff, angst, established abusive relationship btwn reader & billy, reader has a bruised face, eddie getting touchy feely; city divider by @emeraldurafreak
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WC: 1.4K words
12:00 MIDNIGHT
Oh how fast the evening passes…
“Do I need to cut you off, Munson?”
“Funny. I thought you already did.”
Eddie had been drinking with customers all night and — to his surprise — so have you.
He was shocked to see your face. Especially since you've spent all week avoiding him (and The Hideout) like the plague. For a moment he even thought you ditched him for a cooler bartender and some cooler pub down the way. But the reason behind the week long absence soon registers with Eddie — when he sees the black and blue that decorate your cheekbones, poorly hidden by your blotchy layers of cheap, Dollar General concealer.
God fucking dammit, Eddie thinks to himself. He hit her again.
The grip on his washcloth tightens as he watches you saunter over, looking for your vice to band-aid the problem (like you always fucking do).
Unfortunately as a bartender, it's Eddie's job to deal you some cheap booze, strike up a superficial conversation, and cut you off only when he saw fit. He was to cater to your drinking needs whether he thought it was a good idea or not. And for a while it did start out that way. Until his smitten ass got to know you. Now Eddie always your best interests at heart. And it appears like he's the only one who seems to.
“Your usual, sweetheart?”
“Yes please,” you drunkenly slur. “If you don’t mind...”
He's always going to be more than a bartender to you. And you're more than just a patron to him. Often times, when you get in a fight with your abusive fuck of a boyfriend Billy, you'll find yourself at The Hideout, in the comfort of Eddie's arms, slow dancing to all your favorite songs two hours past closing time while Billy blows up your phone.
A cocktail for disaster for sure.
Eddie knows not to ask. It's a rule in his doctrine pertaining to you, an unspoken loyalty — communicated through swift eye contact — that implies YOU KNOW that EDDIE KNOWS what’s up.
And the more he's gotten to know the complexities of you, the more he's fallen in love.
Despite you breaking all of Eddie's rules about the notion though, Eddie knows that you two could never work. You're gonna keep forgiving Billy. And Eddie will keep picking up the broken pieces... waiting agonizingly long periods here and there wondering if you made it out unscathed or not. It's part of the reason he drinks so much as well, but he'll never admit it. It's a vicious fucking cycle. Eddie's accepted it at this point.
Still doesn’t make it hurt any less. And as much as Eddie wanted to figuratively storm the castle, run up to your tower, and break your ass on out of there, Eddie knows that leaving Billy is ultimately up to you.
The bartender goes to pour you your usual neat shot of "Jack Daniels" while you sit across from him. He's most definitely cutting you off. And when you're as wasted as you are right now, Coca Cola tastes just like liquor.
"Mm!" you cheer as you sip the soda-in-disguise. "Hits the spot. Thank you Eddie."
Amused with himself, he snorts. "Anytime, darlin'."
He goes to clink your glass with his beer bottle, then makes an effort to tell you it's his fourth Wildflower Ale, a sour beer that definitely did not seem like something he would like.
“Odd," you observe. "Always thought you were more of a mead guy.”
He smirks. “Oh yeah? Why is that?”
You shrug.
“I dunno…” a flirty hum escapes your lips. “It’s very… medieval times-y. I can picture the knights in shining armor going to their pubs. Grabbin' mead with one another…"
His cheeks a tinted pink now, Eddie chuckles down at the counter.
"Jesting with one another… preparing for battle…"
“I’m a knight in shining armor?” Eddie blushes at you.
You trail off there, hoping that he gets the rest of the picture.
“I should stop talking.”
Eddie raises his eyebrows, confused and a little disheartened by the way you shut yourself down simply for explaining yourself again. “No. No, I like when you talk.”
King and Queen of the weekend.
As the last of the five drunks stumble out of the bar, Eddie begins to wrap up his closing, finalizing everything at the register and cleaning up the champagne glasses. You watch him as he pops his hip to the right in attempts to switch on the stereo that he had authority over at the end of every shift.
Atmospheric music sounds through the speakers. Meanwhile, Eddie's enamored eyes trail back over to you.
"I can think of another way to get your mind off things," Eddie smiles. "And they don't involve alcohol. Don't involve talking either if you aren't up for it."
Heat settles at your cheeks "Our usual?"
"On the house," he insists.
He nears you now, extending a hand to you to guide you off the elevated bar stool and safely to the ground.
"M'lady," he jests.
You fall into him almost immediately, giving all of you to him in the form of a long overdue hug. The musky pine and cool mint of his fragrance seduces you, his beer breath strangely giving you the same amount of comfort that a warm blanket would. For the first time in days, you finally felt safe.
There’s a distant gaze in Eddie’s fawning eyes as he stares dreamily at your lips. Grazing the small of your back as you two sway, he allows you to nuzzle your head against the crook of his warm neck.
“I hate when you make yourself small," he croaks against you.
You draw a shaky breath, allowing the music and booze to liquidate into your bloodstream as you continue to melt into Eddie. He squeezes you tighter, delicately resting his chin atop your head.
“I’d ask why you do it, but… I think I know the answer.”
“Yeah," you mumble.
“You guys gotten better?”
"Not exactly."
It eats at him, knowing he can't save you unless you wanted to be. You've always been a regular who drank often, but watching you full on spiral into alcoholism as a form of escape gnawed at Eddie's conscience. Especially since he felt like he was feeding it. The guilt of going behind Billy's back probably consumed you on top of everything else you had to deal with.
But Eddie doesn't know the real reason behind why you drink. You drink to go back in time. Back to when you feel okay. Because every time alcohol touches the tip of your tongue, you're whisked back here. Where you feel most safe. You've broken so many rules to be in the presence of Eddie Munson, but you never regret it when you look back because you've never felt this good when remaining 'compliant'.
The cheeky bartender proceeds to go lower, testing his boundaries as the song continues on by softly squeezing your hips with his calloused hands. A tear escapes his eye, quite possibly due to his fear that he probably won't remember this when he wakes up tomorrow afternoon.
"Just say the word and I'll back off," Eddie says to you.
You swallow hard. "Never."
Eds cracks you another smile before luring you further into his grasp.
“Leave him,” he whispers. “Be with me instead.”
"When I'm ready," is what you end up telling him all the time. It still feels like the very first time whenever you say it though. "And when I'm sober."
That's another thing about rules. They're made to be broken. And no memorable hero was ever well behaved.
You end up staying for a couple of hours again. Billy, for some reason doesn't call, and your brain shuts down the desire to even know why. All you were focused on anyways was Eddie and how safe you felt beside him.
"This never happened?" he questions you, scanning the look on your face for an answer.
"Nope," you shake your head discreetly. "Never."
And when you two sober up, you turn the music off, help Eddie stack the chairs, give him a passionate, grateful peck on the lips before heading out...back to home...back to familiarity.
Eddie watches you leave, taking a long anxious drag of his cigarette as your car drives off. When you're out of sight, he rests a hand over his heart, praying to whatever is out there to make sure that there will be another opportunity dance again in the near future.
We pretend that we just don’t care.
But we care.
What will we do when we’re sober?
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unicorncornflakes · 5 months
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Summer Isles - Modern!Aemond x Reader | Modern!Aegonx Reader | Chapter 3
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Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (As soon as posible)
Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: After two years in the Summer Isles, Aemond returns from his international stay during his doctorate ready to be with the girl he left Westeros for.
Tags: Alternate Universe – Modern/ Setting Emotional Hurt/ Comfort/ Drama & Romance/ Eventual Smut.
Warnings: Not at this moment, maybe later :P This is the best I can write these days, sorry :( I have realised during my ausence that this is a Aegon x Reader too, so...
General Tag-List (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @thedamewithabook @bluevxnus @hiddencurator @tempt-ress @watercolorskyy @tsujifreya @qyburnsghost @thetrueblackheart
Tag-List for this series (If you wanna be tagged in thi series or all of my work, let me know): @snh96 @zenka69 @darkenchantress
Author´s note: Pls, enjoy! Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!
Word Count: 5.5K
You grabbed your bag and stood up from the table where you were sitting. You lowered the short, violet dress you were wearing that night. It had too little fabric for your taste, but Alys had insisted that you had bought it toward two years for some special reason and she insisted that you wear it for her birthday celebration. You remembered Aemond murmuring that you were very pretty and your cheeks had flushed slightly.
At that moment you felt stupid watching him dance with Alys. She pressed her body against him on the dance floor of that exclusive club, where Aemond had gotten a VIP section for his girlfriend's birthday. For his beloved Alys and all her friends. That included you. However, after watching Alys rub her butt against Aemond's crotch for the twenty-third time that night you felt out of place. It wasn't that you had counted the times she had made that move, or that you had a game in which you used to take a drink every time she did it... how many hangovers hadn't been because of that move... No, really  No. You wore very well than your best friend came out with the boy you liked since high school. You were doing terribly well. You were only going home because you couldn't stand those high heels or that short dress anymore. The atmosphere of that club. Crowded with people and with an oppressive temperature…
You said goodbye to all your friends on the pretext that your head hurt and Shiera and her bicolor eyes knew that you were lying, but she didn't give it any more importance. She was the only friend who had let you know that Alys' move had been too low when she started dating Aemond when it was obvious that you liked him. But did you like Aemond? Of course not. Of course not. You had always been friends and there was a sacred rule about not going out with friends. Things broke down and that's why you had never done anything... Right? Another lie that you always told yourself to calm your sad mood.
You left the club and found yourself on the street in the rain and Sound of the cars that were trying to drive under that unexpected temporary. The now muffled music coming out of that exclusive venue. That repetitive and strident sound. You grabbed your arms and thought about your options to get home. All your skin was crawling from the cold and humidity of the water and although you didn't realize it, the humidity there was frizzy that hairstyle that had cost you so much to do that night. The truth was that you knew that a small part of you had only acted like this to impress Aemond, although you would rather die than admit it. You had always found it pathetic that two women competed for the same man. You kept thinking about how to get back home.
You could order a taxi and have it drop you off at the King's Landing bus station. There was a bus that left there at one in the morning. It would take you about 45 minutes to arrive and you could take off that terrible dress and those uncomfortable shoes. You could also call your brother and stay the night at his apartment, but you knew he would end up arguing with his girlfriend like always. So you ruled it out. You could... call your father and ask him to come pick you up. But that would only mean having to explain why you had returned so soon from your supposed best friend's party.
“Hey, how come you're not inside? It's a terrible storm to be outside” you heard Alys' voice behind you and your brain ended up freezing completely. You weren't in the mood to pretend that everything was okay between you, because it hadn't been for three years. Everything was a supposed cordiality and sisterhood that in many cases ended up stressing you out, all because it wouldn't be obvious that you were just jealous. Terribly jealous.
"I'm going home. My head hurts a little” you responded with the best of your fake smiles and you only saw that she was still perfect even despite the humidity of the environment. She was always bloody perfect, with her makeup well applied, her hair perfectly combed, and her dress without a single wrinkle, despite having spent the whole night rubbing against Aemond. Sometimes you thought she even did it on purpose.
“Oh, come on, just wait a couple of hours and Aemond and I will take you home in his car,” she replied, trying to take your hand and go back to the party, but you just let go of her in a bad way, and you realized that such a violent and tiring gesture had managed to destroy the fragile facade of feigned happiness for her that you had managed to build over those hard three years. You weren't going to go home again while Aemond drove and Alys touched up in the passenger seat.
“I don't want to be a bother. Today is your birthday and I imagine you will go do your things after this” you sighed, your cheeks slightly blushing. You could still hear Alys' criticism of the fact that you still hadn't slept with anyone. Alys always patronized you and laughed amusingly as you both continued under the entrance to the club. You are much closer to the rain than she was.
“You mean I'm going to go fuck him after my birthday party?” She smiled at you, amused and arrogant, crossing his arms, knowing that that way of speaking always made you feel uncomfortable. Alys had never been known for being subtle or discreet. It was what you thought men liked about her. “Of course I will, but we can keep bringing you closer to home” she smiled again. She laughed in your face and found the sad face you had made when she had confirmed that she would sleep with Aemond that night even more amusing. You were so innocent that she always thought you had to imagine them playing house when you weren't with them.
“My head really hurts,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks blush. In that moment, you wished you were Alys and received all the attention Aemond gave her day after day. “And I just want to go home…”
“(Y/N), I'm not stupid, okay? I know you like Aemond, but, you have played your cards better” she laughed and you went pale. You saw her smirk as she hit the nail on the head. You had always considered yourself a good actress, but you weren't. You never had been. “This party is full of guys and you just need to get laid. My boyfriend would end up being a mere memory in your head if you did that” she could see how it had been a real stab that she referred to Aemond as her boyfriend and she just laughed, again. “Please, you and Aemond have always been in very different leagues, and you are still a child unable to get over your high school crush,” she laughed and you couldn't take it anymore. It almost seemed like Alys had always found pleasure in humiliating you. “Don't be pathetic. Go back to the party and go to the bathroom with the first one who invites you to a drink” She offered her hand for you to come back in and something inside your head seemed to click at that moment.
“Did you know I liked Aemond in high school?” you asked her and her smile faltered for the first time that night.
“Hey…” Alys started to shake her head. She had always known it. And your heart broke even more. What the hell had Alys been playing since then? “(Y/N), I…”
“It's a yes or a no. It's not that complicated,” you replied, feeling your whole body trembling as if you couldn't stand on your legs. And she bit her lips. She didn't want to answer you. She didn't want to do it because she had always known and never cared. She had only had one very clear goal with Aemond. "Brilliant. You knew it and you still screwed it.”
“You couldn't decide. It was stupid to see you” she blurted that out in your face as if it were a compelling enough reason and you didn't even stay to listen to the rest of the explanation. You just ran out of there, in the rain, your bag swinging on your bare shoulder and hugging yourself. “(Y/N), come back” she yelled at you. But, you were too sad to look back again and you just ran through the rain, almost not knowing where to go.
Alys saw your figure disappear and only turned to return to the club. At the door she met Aemond, who had come out to look for you. He asked her if everything was okay and she just kissed him and took him to the bathroom. That was the perfect way their relationship worked. She was sure he hadn't heard any of your conversation.
You kept walking until you ended up cold and soaked in a part of the city you didn't know. But, you felt too betrayed to be able to feel afraid. You weren't in a good neighborhood and fate was just capricious when you heard something moving in an alley.
At that moment, you realized where you were and you felt afraid. You saw the gazes of some of the passersby fix on you and one even whistled at you as you passed by him. “What is a girl as pretty and alone as you doing in a place like this?” He whispered to you as he grabbed your arm. That man only smelled of alcohol and you felt stupid for having rejected Alys' offer. How did you end up there?
A shadow appeared between the garbage cans in that alley and you never felt so happy to have seen Aegon in your life. He was in a sorry state, with an eyebrow and a split lower lip. He staggered and sighed as he tried to focus his eyes on the spectacle in front of his eyes. You thought he almost looked like he had just been beaten up and he just tried to smile at the sight of you.
That man who had grabbed you stood still, just like you. To that stranger, even in a state as pitiful as that, Aegon Targaryen was someone to be reckoned with. It was a name that could only bring trouble, and, yes, it was perfectly the kind of neighborhood where you'd imagine Aegon on a Saturday night.
“Hey, (Y/N), is this asshole bothering you?” he responded, clutching his ribs, sighing heavily and ending with a smile just as he finished exhaling. That guy looked you up and down, weighing whether the risk of facing Aegon was worth it, even if he was in that state so unbecoming of his family's name, as Aemond always said.
The same guy who had assaulted you let you go and left without saying anything else. Aegon leaned against the brick wall at the corner of the alley and smiled at you again. He made a pitiful sound again and you approached as if you had become active again, after the terror that had taken hold of you. "Are you OK?" you asked him, eyes full of concern and Aegon thought about how he liked your eyes when they looked at him like that. You were a good enough person to care about him. He thought you were even too good a person to be his brother's best friend. You always gave everything you had.
“I've had better nights. Also worse” he answered you while he continued clutching his ribs and took out the keys to his car that was parked at the door of that seedy dive. You didn't even want to ask him what activities were carried out there. You approached with concern and he tried to smile again. Aegon had always treated you cordially, even sympathetically, despite the relationship you had with Aemond. “Well, can I get you somewhere?” Because it's hard for me to leave you in a neighborhood like this alone,” he said with difficulty, banging the keys on the hood of the last Ferrari his parents had bought him. You knew how bad that had felt for Aemond. However, they paid for his very expensive and exclusive doctorate while his brother seemed to indulge that sinful life that only brought him problems.
“I think you should go to the hospital and have that bruise looked at,” you told him as you opened the passenger door. You knew Aemond was going to kill him when he found out whatever had happened to him, and you felt obligated to escort him, as if you had taken the same responsibility on your own of your best friend. You got into the car and Aegon smiled again at the same time he too opened his door.
“I'll go to the hospital right after I drop you off at your house or wherever you want,” he said, starting the car, without putting on his seat belt. At that moment he realized that you were soaked and that you had cried. He had made enough women cry to know the expression that was painted on your face. “Uhm, are you okay? Because you look terrible” he asked you with genuine concern and the greatest tact he had. Aegon had never been known for having good tact.
“Are you really asking me how I am doing when you have a possible broken rib?” you asked him, framing your eyebrows in a worried gesture and he just laughed.
"Believe me. I've had my ribs broken and they hurt more,” he answered honestly and you looked at your phone at that moment. Aemond had sent you a message. Alys none. And you didn't want to see what your best friend had written to you. You didn't think you were capable. You would end up crying. “I thought today was Alys's birthday,” Aegon murmured as he tapped the steering wheel as he began to drive through the city. You didn't even want to wonder if he was up to it, but you just sighed.
“Yes, it is,” you said, putting the phone back in your bag and Aegon just bit his inner cheek. Okay, it was better not to ask you about that topic. He knew enough about women to know that: one, that you had cried, and two, that you must have argued with Alys. The reasons for the discussion could be quite broad. To Aegon, Alys had always seemed as much of a cretin as his cretin of a brother. But Aemond was his little brother and he had no choice but to put up with him. He couldn't stand Alys and it showed. But, he was always the life of the party. He considered his brother's girlfriend so stupid that he thought that not even she must know. You had a sad face, but that was the face you had since Alys and Aemond had started dating. His brother had made a terrible mistake by not choosing you. A mistake Aegon was not willing to make. Maybe, he could sleep with you and see if things worked out…no, no. You were too good a girl for that.
“So… Shall I take you back to the party?” He asked and called himself stupid. You had to come from there, wrapped in tears and looking terrible. A sigh escaped your lips and you just rested your head against the car seat. Your eyes squeezed shut and a tear escaped them.
“No, leave it,” you quickly wiped away that tear with the back of your hand and Aegon felt violent. He had seen you cry before, but it had always been when you were younger, in Aemond's room and, of course, his brother had always been there for you. The eldest Targaryen only knew you in a much less intimate context. He found you quite nice considering the people Aemond usually chose as friends and Aegon had to confess that he had looked at your ass on more than one occasion at one of the parties they had at his house when his parents were away. He did like you somewhat, but he had imagined you as his sister-in-law until Alys appeared in Aemond's life. “Could you drop me off at the bus station?”
“Yes, of course,” Aegon drove in silence. So, yes, you had argued with Aemond's girlfriend. He didn't see you capable of crying about it, or about the situation. Your tears must have had another explanation. Aegon looked at the clock. It was quite late and you probably wanted to take the last bus that would take you to that small city so close to King's Landing. But, you weren't going to have time and that boy thought about whether it was advisable to leave you with such a short dress, such disastrous looks and such uncomfortable shoes in such a lonely season so late. He couldn't think of anything better than the stupid thing he said next. “Um… you could come to my apartment. Uhmmm, I would need someone to cure my lip and eyebrow…” he scratched the back of his neck while his other hand was still on the steering wheel. He thought it was better to keep you in his house with such a stupid ruse than to endure the scolding Aemond would give him if anything happened to you. Besides, a small part of Aegon, very small, actually worried that something might happen to you. He looked at you out of the corner of his eye and only saw you completely blushing. He would have killed to know what you were thinking, but your only mind was that it was the same apartment you had stayed the night in many other times, before Alys started dating Aemond. The couch had always seemed comfortable to you, although Aemond had always left you his bed and he had gone to sleep on the couch. How many nights had you slept there thinking that Aemond would show up in the middle of the night? But, he had never done it and you had never approached the sofa either. You were both too shy or stupid to do it. “Okay, it was stupid and…” Aegon started rambling and you just looked at his wounds. Maybe you could help him.
"OK. Alright. Let's go to the apartment” you replied as you relaxed in the passenger seat and brushed your arms again, freezing to death. Maybe it was better than spending the night waiting for the next bus. You would leave in the morning. You were sure that Aemond and Alys had booked a hotel room for that night. You wouldn't see them. Nothing would happen. You preferred to spend the night under the same roof as Aegon than alone and soaked at the station.
The next thing you remembered was Aegon shirtless. Sitting on the toilet bowl, drinking a bottle of Vodka. The same concoction you were using to rub on the wound on your eyebrow. It was quite deep and did not seem to slow down in its efforts to bleed scandalously. You weren't good at that. You've never had to heal a wound like that on anyone. You and Aemond had always been calm and smart enough to stay out of trouble, even when you were in high school.
Aegon let out another pitiful whimper as the cotton touched the wound again. You only came closer, but Aegon couldn't help but think that you smelled too good. He had your breasts at eye level and found them fascinating. He just took another sip from the bottle while he kept looking at them. You continued in silence, too focused to pay him any attention. Aemond had been an asshole for not telling you when it was obvious that he had had a crush on you all through high school. The eldest Targaryen moved again as the cotton touched the wound again and you just grabbed his chin.
“Please, if you don't stay still I'm not going to move forward with this” you whispered to him while you kept looking at the wound. He liked your worried eyes, your eyes fixed on him, even if it was to heal a simple wound. “I don't know why they did this to you, but it doesn't look good,” you murmured as you dipped a new cotton ball into the bottle that had finally been freed from his hands and he just chuckled.
“Well, at least they didn't kill me. If they had killed me, I wouldn't be able to pay them back the money I owe them” Aegon joked and you just narrowed your eyes while shaking your head. Not a single smile had appeared on your lips and that was almost a way to make Aegon vulnerable, or maybe it was just a strategy to get you into his bed that night. Aegon wasn't sure what was wrong with you. With you. On that one and first time that you were alone and showed genuine concern for him.
“Don't move,” you whispered, still focused on the wound. It seemed like the bleeding had stopped and keeping an eye on that was better than thinking about how ridiculous you had been at Alys's party. Aegon didn't move and just sighed, relaxing his muscles.
“I know I'm a fucking mess. "I'm sorry," Aegon replied. He bit his cheek and just looked at the ground. He would always be the biggest failure of all his brothers. The stupid. The headless one... the lost one... While you healed him in silence, he reflected on it. Would any of his friends cure him like you were doing? The answer was clear and he couldn't feel more of a failure than ever. Shirtless. Sitting in the bathroom. With a girl who was out of his league. “I guess you think I'm a failure…” he whispered and closed his eye, grimacing painfully before you put that stitches on him, and yet you stopped. He looked at you and saw only pity in your eyes.
It hadn't been an easy night for either of you.
“Why would I think that?” you told him, wrinkling your face, almost in a sneer at the image he must have of you, if he thought that you thought he was a failure.
“Well…” he shrugged his shoulders “I wasn't able to finish my degree, I haven't been able to keep a job for more than three months straight, and I just got beaten up for owing money in a cockfight…” he sighed and finished. smiling, almost in a pathetic way that made your heart ache, as if you had never seen him before as the human being he was, as more than just your best friend's older brother. “I'm never going to have a PhD or a girl who is always in love with me… I will never be as perfect as Aemond…” He looked straight into your eyes and you just looked at him with eyes full of tears. He had struck a chord.
He was right that you would always have a crush on Aemond. You quickly wiped away your tears and approached him again. You placed the stitch and he only pretended to moan in pain to make you laugh. “What a bad nurse you are” he whispered and made you laugh.
“You don't want to be as blind as Aemond,” you said in a whisper and he just laughed.
“Damn, he's one-eyed, what a way to say that…” he laughed, getting up from the toilet and you narrowed your eyes, separating yourself from him, ready to wash your hands in the sink. He looked at you smiling at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and you looked back at him with a half smile.
“You know that's not what I mean,” you told him and he just laughed again.
“I know, but the joke was there. I just saw the opportunity” he shrugged again and you came closer just to sniff him. He saw your face scrunching up and laughed loudly. “I should take a shower, would you like to come with me?” He asked in a joking, but suggestive tone and you just punched him in the chest, laughing for the first time that night.
“Can you take a shower, please?” you asked him and he just looked you up and down. That pretty, damaged dress. All your hair wet. You were a mess.
“Right now,” he said, leaving the bathroom, running towards his room. You didn't know whether to follow him and you ended up doing so, almost like a mother following a small child. Now you knew how Aemond felt every time he told you each of his older brother's crazy things. However, you arrived at his room to only see him with a tender smile and grabbing one of his old t-shirts. “You're soaked… and… you're going to end up catching a cold…” He offered you the shirt and that tender gesture broke your heart. Before, Aemond had always had those tender gestures with you, now... three years later... and with Alys... none of that existed.
You blushed and pushed him into the shower, laughing. How long had it been since you laughed like that?
“We're not going to watch a documentary about Ancient Valyria,” he screamed at you, while flipping through the many pay channels he had. You laughed and knelt on the couch, trying to get the controller away from him. You missed having that complicity with someone, and you wondered how you could have reached that intimate point with Aegon, wearing one of his shirts, sitting with him in the living room of his apartment... it almost seemed like you were back with Aemond and then, he came back to stretch your arm, separating the TV remote from your possible grip. You tried to grab him again, falling on top of him and Aegon just put his hand on the back of your neck, pulling your face to his and... he simply kissed you, closing his eyes, while your eyes remained wide open. His lips landed on yours and he moved them energetically, feeling a kind of strange connection with you. You didn't close your eyes even once. You didn't believe what was happening, much less did you know how to react to that kiss that didn't upset you, but it didn't excite you either. How many times have you imagined Aemond kissing you on that couch while you were watching one of the documentaries he liked so much? Aegon finished and opened his eyes to only be met with your wide eyes and flushed cheeks. You looked down and he just laughed, feeling like a loser again… “Has it been that bad?” He asked, running his hand through his hair, almost as if he'd screwed up…because, that's how he always felt. That damn feeling of always screwing up.
However, you kissed him again. It was a childish and vindictive feeling, stupid and immature. You only remembered Alys's words. Maybe the problem was the same thing that Alys had told you at the entrance to that exclusive club, maybe... you just needed to get laid by the first person who had invited you to a drink, and Aegon had done much more than that.
He accepted all your kisses, feeling like a winner. He had surpassed Aemond for the first time in his life. He had the girl of his dreams and he planned to rub it in his face how good a match he was for you... Besides, you didn't see him as a loser, and that made his heart beat harder. Your kisses were proof of this.
You ended up sleeping with Aegon, without much more than a few kisses, in the same bed in his apartment, without him letting go of you all night. Hugging you and you felt a special connection with him... As if all the attention and care he needed fell on you... and, unbeknownst to you, Aegon began to think that you were his girlfriend that very night... you ended up cuddled up, with him hugging you. body, and you slept... Aegon was just a patch to alleviate your loneliness, but wasn't that what love was about?
“But… What are you doing here?” Alys closed the refrigerator door roughly and you woke up from the sleepy trance you were in. You had only gone for a glass of water to continue sleeping.
Your best friend crossed her arms. The nightgown that left little to the imagination contrasted with the old t-shirt Aegon had left you to sleep in. You were both in your underwear, although in a very different way. She looked you up and down, as if you were a real scumbag and you only spoke with the shyness that characterized you, with the fear that you had always really had of Alys, it wasn't about respect. It was about fear. She had always been better than you and had constantly reminded you of that. “I was coming for water,” you whispered. You looked at her as if she were an alien, as if you didn't want to have anything to do with her since the argument the night before, because you didn't want to see her again. Never more.
“Well, I imagine that's what you were coming for…” he told you, looking at you again, as if he were scanning you. “That shirt is Aegon's…” he whispered, grabbing one of the sleeves as if it would give him a rash and you blushed, breaking free of his grip.
“Why don't you go fuck Aemond? It's the only thing you know how to do” you whispered to her, angry, like you had never been before and she smiled contemptuously, as if everything was beginning to unfold in her head. You were angry and hurt, much more hurt than angry.
“Don't fuck with me, (Y/N). Are you fucking Aegon?” She smiled, with that smile so beautiful and evil at the same time. “Are you so pathetic that since you can't sleep with Aemond you end up fucking his loser brother? Oh really?" she smiled again.
“Leave me alone, bitch,” you said. The voice was icy and she paled. She would never have believed you capable of calling him that. “If you had been my friend, you wouldn't have fucked him,” you told her. A tear running down your face. “Because you knew I was in love with him… because you fucking knew it…” you whispered under your breath. You felt another tear running down your face. And it wasn't just because Aemond had chosen her, it was because she had always known... she had been your best friend... until that night...
“You will always be a pathetic, losing creature. “Did you want Aemond to end up with a loser like you?” She asked you and at that moment, you froze.
Aemond appeared there, without his sweater, without his eyepatch, and looked at you both as if that had been the revelation of his life... always so blind... he had heard everything and opened his mouth to say something, but you just walked out of the room. You headed towards Aegon's room and closed the door behind you. You had already made a decision.
Alys watched as her boyfriend nervously ran his hand through his hair. “Aemond…” she whispered, approaching him, trying to get him to take her into his arms again, but Aemond only pushed her away, closing his sole tightly. How could he have been so blind? Alys… Alys had always told him that you weren't interested and he… had believed her, because it was the easy way… to believe her… “Let's go to bed” she whispered, hugging him from behind, kissing his back while he tried to process everything, in complete silence. “She's always going to be a pathetic, losing creature…” she began whispering and Aemond couldn't take it anymore. It had been like this for too long.
“Go away,” he said in a firm voice and Alys stopped kissing his back. She pulled away and Aemond just turned away, not meeting her eyes. He repeated the same command “Go away.”
“But…” Alys started to speak, but Aemond just grabbed her arm and looked her straight in the eyes. His eyes seemed to have forgotten all the desire and adoration he had had for her during those three years.
“Go away,” he whispered again. At that moment he hated her, but above all he hated himself for having always been so blind. Alys left, and it took him two years away from you to clarify what he felt... He had always been selfish...
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cookiesupplier · 4 months
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Drain the blood out from your veins (nsfw)
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pairing: Ricky Olson x Fem!Reader (Chris' Sister)
Summary: Vampire Ricky, back from tour with the band, continues his sexual relationship with Chris' little sister without her brother knowing.
cw: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI, established relationship, Dom/Sub leanings, blood, masturbation, vaginal fingering.
author note: unbetaed, readers beware lol, bit of an anon request so I hope you enjoy!
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tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @faceless-mirror
Tags are open for future fics, please let me know if you'd like to be added to my general list.
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Ricky was strung out, and he just wanted to go home, sink his teeth into a feeder and gorge his fill. Living off donated blood bags while they were on tour was the most disgusting, and vile feeling in the entire damn world. The sacrifices he made for Chris. Sometimes, if he was lucky when he could, he could pull up one of the feeder chat rooms for the town they were in on an off-day and see if anyone was offering, with a non-disclosure agreement of course. It wasn’t that their fans didn’t know he was a vampire, they did, and they were very aware, but it was highly discouraged for any of them to throw themselves at him offering up their blood.
One too many times had he gotten vials of blood sent in the mail from devoted fans, offering him a taste in hopes that he might want to come and drink from them, personally. So it was made known that he wouldn’t. It was ridiculous really, the worst ones, the blood was turned and rotted by the time it got to him, and at best they remembered to preserve it for transport in the vial, and he knew, it would taste like nothing but the chemicals that had been used to do so if he even tasted a drop. He didn’t, why would he? That kind of obsession was not something he was ever going to touch.
Anyone he drank from that was not a dedicated personal feeder at home, signed a NDA.
There was one exception to the rule for Rick. One person he’d fed from in the past that was neither technically a personal feeder nor he had ever asked to sign an NDA.
He knew she wouldn’t say anything. He knew she wouldn’t tell a soul.
Her neck would be on the line as much as his, and not because of the fans, but because of her brother.
Y/N was Chris’ little sister.
Admitted, Chris would forgive her, he’d never forgive Rick. There was no way in hell that he’d forgive Rick for touching his little sister.
Half-sister technically, but sister just the same, and Ricky, couldn’t get her out of his system, and it would seem, she was no better with the way her eyes had been on him the moment he’d entered the bar with her brother, but they’d switched quickly over to Chris the moment he’d called y/n, a smile immediately flashing across her features for her brother as she ran over and threw herself into his arms. She’d not seen him in weeks, Ricky didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on him around his side as she hugged her brother.
They’d just gotten home from another stint on tour, and they would be home for a little bit, planning to work on some more music, and Ricky himself was strained from living of months off of blood bags. Sure, it might have been weeks since they’d been home, but months on tours, and barely a good bite here and there if he was lucky? He had thought about hiring a personal feeder for long tours, but the last time he tried, it give an intensely wrong impression, and she’d just gotten so attached when he got home.
He didn’t want that.
Especially when, when he was at home, he had other preferences in mind.
Ricky knew he shouldn’t, but Y/N was always on his mind.. Chris would kill him if he knew about the way he thought about his little sister, the things he thought about her.
He was not, well, there had been a time when he was not the most upstanding vampire there was. Chris wanting him to stay away from his little sister wasn’t without reason.. But did he listen? No.
Did she listen? No.
He did try to stay away from her at the bar, at least, he did try. Knowing that Chris was out the front with the other guys however, laughing, talking, with the chatter of all the other people the only noise that was keeping them hidden, it was just too tempting.. What she looked at him across the room while Chris was busy, her eyes meeting right before she slipped away, he smirked..
Following after a moment.. Throwing back his drink, before slipping right into the women’s bathroom, flicking the lock behind him.. It was easy to tell she was the only one in there, only one heartbeat.. Only one, hers.
Y/N was washing her hands in the basin, facing the mirror and Ricky’s already stormy blue eyes darkened at the sight of her in the reflection, moving behind her in a second, his arms either side of her on the counter, framing her in.
“Did you do what you were told?”
Breathing in her scent up the side of her neck slowly, god, she smelled divine, but that wasn’t the scent that he wanted just yet..
“Yes, Daddy.”
Smirking.. He’d given her very specific instructions of what she was supposed to do before she was to come tonight.. Admittedly, it was supposed to be for a treat for after, but he was impatient, and she was just being so alluring tonight, how could he resist. Not to mention, the mere thought of finding out if she’d behaved and actually done what he told her to, well, it was far too tempting.
“Mmmmm, I don’t know.. Maybe I should find out for myself.. What do you think, BabyGirl.. Should I?”
One of his hands was running up the insides of her legs, his fingers stroking up the bare skin of her thigh, she got that part right to start with,
“No tights, good girl.”
His voice a rasp as he smirked when he saw her face flush warm in the mirror, then as her fingers press harder to the counter in front of her, feeling the way she tried so hard not to squirm but her hips still shifted back against him ever so slightly. Tsking, he tilted his head forward to nip at the side of her neck with his blunt human teeth,
“Stay still.”
A whimper escaped her as his hand continued to travel up.. Until he came to the juncture of her thighs, and his fingers brushed along the lips of her pussy.. She was so wet already and she she whimpered when he denied her more, his hand slipping out from under her dress and lifting to lick the arousal from the very tips of his fingers.. A whine escaped her throat as she watched him in the reflection..
“Such a good girl.. How many did you have up there before you came inside?”
He told her.. She was to finger herself in the car before coming in, but not to cum, if she did, she would be allowed to again all night, and he wouldn’t touch her again, not once, before the next tour.. One orgasm for the price of many? That would be a no-brainer..
“Three, Daddy, please.. I’ll do anything you want. I need to cum so bad.”
Her thighs pressed together and he grinned at her in the reflection.
“Anything?”
She nodded eagerly to him.. He stepped back and patted the counter, up on the counter, face me.. All too eager, she didn’t even need to question him before she was hitching up her dress around her hips and was pulling her tiny frame up onto the counter. How she was Chris’ sister was beyond him, her miniature to Chris’ giant, but she was just a perfect size for Rick.. and fuck if he got his fill every time.
As much as he wanted to fuck her right now, and damn did he want to, it was too messy a clean up, and getting caught by Chris because y/n had his cum dripping down her thigh in the middle of the bar, really wasn’t on his agenda tonight.. That could wait until he got her back to her his apartment and he could take her apart properly. Have her come apart screaming on his cock.. He had another hunger to satisfy now.
Down on his knees before her, her his hands spreading her thighs wide, glancing up to her,
“You don’t cum unless I give you permission, and after I’ve had plenty to drink, understand?”
A whimper escaped her, but she nodded quickly, she knew what was coming, and it wasn’t the bite that was going to be the hard part ti endure, Ricky always like to push her right to the very edge of pleasure and pain.. That was the best part between them, while he fed.. Feeling her body shake under the assault of his fingers, his cock.. Whatever he was doing to her at the time..
His tongue traced up along the skin of her groin of her femoral artery, his favourite place to drink, and the most covert.. Who thought to look for bite marks there. Not to mention, Chris would notice if his sister suddenly started walking around with neck scarves all the time. As his fangs sank into her flesh, her blood pooling delicately onto his tongue, he was careful how he drank, clean, his thumb was rubbing over her clit, drawing a moan from her as two of his fingers pressed into her cunt.. Just as she had been earlier.
Oh, her blood was like pure nirvana on his tongue, she was always absolute perfection, nothing tasted like y/n.. Not her blood, or her pretty perfect pussy. He didn’t know which he liked better if he was being truthful, he could spend all day between her legs in one manner or another, his face covered in her, and he would be a happy man.. Already very dead, but a happy, happy man.
His fingers pumped inside of her as his thumb worked circles over the numb of her clit as her warm blood ran down his throat with each swallow he took. His tongue swirled at her skin with each pull from her vein and fuck.. but then he flicked at the sensitive nerves of her clit a bit hard when she started to squirm with a groan. Lifting his mouth from her skin with a gasp,
“Y/N,”
His voice holding a commanding rasp, looking down at him, her eyes met his with a whimper, her thighs shaking as she held them wide for him,
“You are being such a good girl. Now stay still. I’ve almost had my fill.”
He could have let her cum then, he could have, but he wanted to see how much longer she could last, he loved watching to see how far he could push her, see her walk to the very edge until she couldn’t take anymore.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Her thighs pushed a little wider as she pushed herself to satisfy him, there we go, he knew she could do it, such a good girl. A lick of his tongue over the bite before his mouth returned to her beautiful silken skin and drew another pull of her blood. This time it earned a moan from her, he savoured not only the taste of her as her blood pulsed hot, running down his throat so perfectly, but the way she reached for him next.. Her fingers threading into his hair, pressing her fingertips against his scalp as she whimpered.
“Daddy, Daddy, please, I need to cum.”
She was close, so close, he could feel her thighs trembling as she fought to hold them,
“Please!”
The way she pleaded was utter perfection and with a last flick of his tongue, pressing it down hard enough to put pressure on the puncture to stem the flow of blood and seal the wound. Then as he stood up between her legs, his fingers that were buried deep in her cunt, curled to rub at her g-spot as he flicked at her clit as his lips came to hers, fangs scraping at her lips as she moaned,
“Cum for me BabyGirl, cum for Daddy like a good girl.”
All she needed was that little push over the edge, and she was falling. Her shriek as she orgasm smothered by his kiss, no, no they couldn’t let anyone outside here, No Chris, not any of the band, or the crew.. They might come find out what was happening, and find the locked door.. Best they didn’t investigate. Kissing her while he fucked her with his fingers through her orgasm, her whole body trembling with delight as she grasped onto him, panting against him as she did… he grinned when he finally started to hear her heartbeat slowly come down, her eyes starting to come back into focus..
“I’ve missed being able to make you fucking scream properly.”
If Chris killed him when he found out, so be it.
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Divider by @saradika-graphics
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cerise-on-top · 5 months
Note
HELOOOOOOO IM BACKKK
can we get some Valeria Garza headcanons? :p
LOVE UR WORK AS ALWAYS DRINK WATER BYEBYEEE
-☁️
Hello! Welcome back :> I wasn't sure if you wanted general HCs or romantic ones, so I did both! I hope they're enjoyable! In regards to these HCs, there's one mention of drugs, but the HCs are about Valeria, so that's to be expected!
Also, to anyone reading this: Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays! I'm saying this today because in my country we celebrate Christmas today and not on the 25th! I'm wishing you all a few lovely days ahead :-)
General:
Playing games of any kind with her is actually infuriating and almost unfair. You’d think games like Monopoly would be fair since it’s based on luck for the most part, but no. I can assure you Valeria could set a world record on beating someone at Monopoly. But it’s not just that game either. You wanna poker with her? Tycoon? Sixty-Six? Granted, they require some skill as well, but she uses her nogging on a daily basis, so it’s not like she doesn’t know what she’s doing. And even if you only explained the rules to her once, she’ll beat you soon enough. Might also be prone to cheating, but you’ll only ever accuse her of doing so whenever she actually wasn’t. It’s not illegal or forbidden if no one ever finds out. The stakes can be pretty high, she’s not afraid to play for money either. But I advise you to maybe play over gummy bears or lollipops or something. She won’t be happy, she will complain, but it beats losing all your money to a businesswoman of her caliber.
When she was a kid she actually didn’t mind Christmas all that much, she quite liked it. It was colorful, it was bright, it was nice. Her parents may not have been the richest people, but she usually got what she wanted for Christmas as well, so it wasn’t a particularly sad time for her back then. Even now her cartel is doing well during that time since people like to fill the gaping holes within their hearts with drugs so they won’t have to think about being alone and freezing during such a festive time. She doesn’t get jolly like she used to, she won’t even wear a Christmas hat, but she can appreciate Christmas, if just for her earning a bit more money than she normally would. You can even give her gifts during this time. Depending on who they’re from and what it is, she might just throw them away, but if it’s something nice from someone she’s close with then she might just keep it for a little while longer. Although Valeria would never admit it, she does like cookies quite a lot. She can’t bake particularly well, not that she has the time for that either, but that won’t stop her from eating a few whenever she receives some from a trustworthy source. There is an elderly lady in Las Almas who she likes to buy them from occasionally. That lady is a real sweetheart, so Valeria is sure the cookies aren’t poisoned.
No one ever gets to enjoy it anymore these days, but Valeria can cook pretty well. She learned how to very early on so she could relieve her mother a bit from her burdens, but it stuck with her. She has a real knack for how much spice you put in which dish. Yes, she’s a bit rusty since she hasn’t cooked for herself in quite a while, but if you’re her s/o and you’re sick, you might just receive some birria or carne guisada. It’ll be unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. Her food is a bit spicy, so if you’re not used to spicy food it can and will leave you teary eyed, but it’s really good. Naturally, her specialties include, for the most part, Mexican dishes only. But, in theory, you could give her any recipe and it would turn out just fine. Except for anything sweet. Sweets she cannot do at all, they’ll always turn out terrible. It used to get to her when she was young, but these days she couldn’t care less. She isn’t anyone’s housewife, so why should she care? Back in the day when she still had time for dating someone properly, a telltale sign she was mad at you would be her cooking for you, but making it unbearably spicy. Valeria could always eat it, she can eat any spicy pepper as a snack just like that and not be bothered at all.
Romantic:
It doesn’t matter who you are, Valeria will always be the dominant person among the two of you. Her personality alone won’t allow for much else, but there are also other circumstances as well. Besides, she’s been in the military and she can tell you from experience that the people there don’t think too highly of women. Ergo she wants to prove herself to be above those morons, especially Alejandro. While she might not be affectionate at all in public, it’s the small things in private that really show you who’s in control. Beckoning you closer with her finger, telling you how much of a good thing you are for her, moving you a bit so she can get to something she needs. Granted, it’s nothing big, she won’t put a collar on you, but she will do what she can to make you feel smaller than you actually are. It doesn’t matter if you’re 1,50m or 2m tall, whether you’re looking up at her or down on her, you will treat her with utmost respect. While she might seem degrading or mocking very often, she does take your feelings into account as well. If her being mean to you genuinely hurts you then she will do what she can to tone it down a bit. She won’t stop entirely, but she’ll better herself. You’re welcome to sass her back a bit, though. If it’s just some light joking around she won’t mind. Sass her back too hard and you will be put into place, though.
Going off of one of the previous points I made: Once Valeria loves you, she is completely and entirely committed to you. It doesn’t matter what you want, you’ll get it within days. You want someone’s head? Absolutely, no questions asked. Even something smaller, such as some clothing, jewelry, a video game console, a plushie. You name it, you’ll get it. You’re her everything in this rotten world, of course she’ll do what she can to keep you happy. And if one of those goons from the army ever tries to hurt you, then even the ninth layer of hell will seem like the greatest mercy the heavens and hell could muster. She’s fiercely protective over you. While she won’t kidnap you, she wants to keep you happy, after all, she will try to convince you to live with her. Somewhere in a place no one knows about, where it’s only you and her without a worry for those two pests, Alejandro and Rodolfo. If you ever were to meet those two then I can assure you, you’ll never see Valeria this angry again. She loathes those two men with her entire being. Not that she has a very high opinion of men to begin with. If one ever decides to lay his grubby, disgusting hands on you, regardless of whether it’s some guy from the streets or the president of the United States, he can say goodbye to his head.
As I said before, she’s a really good cook. In fact, she’s good at just about anything you can think of. Well, almost. Either way, she’d love it if you could cook well. In fact, having someone who’s willing to be a housespouse is a dream come true. She won’t always be able to come home to you immediately, but if she finds you having cooked her a delicious, hearty meal, she’ll be on cloud nine. But even if your food isn’t anything noteworthy she’ll still eat it because it’s from you. She may be a cruel woman at times, but Valeria does care about you and tries not to hurt your feelings too much. At best, not at all. If she comes home to your shared home being well taken care of by you, with you having cleaned all the rooms as well as all the clothes that needed washing, you’ll have earned something nice from her. If you aren’t able to do so, no worries, she can always just hire some personnel to take care of it. But if it was you, then just name what you want from her. You want some cuddles or a kiss? Naturally. Some tres leches or churros? She won’t make them herself, but you can bet she’ll get you some regardless. If she’s especially tired some sweet words might be exchanged as well, but don’t expect her to be like that every time. Sometimes she does want to be a bit sweeter than usual, tell you how grateful she is to have you, but she’s afraid you might think of her a bit less than before, even if it wouldn’t happen. So, while she may not be someone who enjoys giving words of affirmation unless she needs to, you can count on her showing you affection through gift giving and quality time.
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sequinsmile-x · 1 month
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The Games We Play - Chapter 2
She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her.
She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death. 
A Hunger Games AU
-x-
Hi friends,
Thanks so much for the reaction to chapter 1 <3
AU's in general are always nerve wracking, but this one feels even more so because I am aware it's a little bit of an out-there idea. I really appreciate the support on this unhinged little fic, and I really hope you like this chapter.
Please let me know what you think!
-x-
Words: 4.6k
A full list of warnings can be found on the series master list
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
She seeks him out on the train. 
He’d left the dining carriage not long after they left the district, and at first, she leaves him to it, giving him the space she remembers needing herself. It was strange to leave home, the only place you’d ever been, and not know if you’d be coming alive or in a body bag. Not everyone even got that, the brutality that the tributes sometimes showed each other beyond imagination, as if the Capitol had truly won in convincing them all that they were each other's enemies. Their gaze and anger turned inwards, instead of all of them looking out to see who was using them like chess pieces. 
She goes looking for him for a couple of hours, Kate’s crying eventually getting to her, too many memories of other tributes who hadn’t come home haunting her. The ghosts of children whose faces she’d never forget in every reflective surface she walked past. 
She finds him at the back of the train looking out of the large window, scenery they’d otherwise never get to see speeding past them, hints of life and freedom in the birds that flew between the trees. She clears her throat as she steps into the carriage and he looks up at her, his smile tight as their eyes meet. 
“Want me to leave you alone?” She asks, not stepping any closer to him and he shakes his head. 
“No,” he replies, “I wouldn’t mind the company.”
She nods and walks towards him, revealing that she has two glasses of scotch behind her back, smiling wryly as she tries to hand him one, “Here, I brought you this.”
He frowns, the smell from the glass familiar, the scent of alcohol something he thinks he might always associate with his father, “We’re not ol-”
“We’re old enough to die for a TV show,” she says, pressing the drink into his hand before she sits next to him, “I think we’re old enough to have a drink.”
He pauses for a moment and considers arguing with her. He thinks about putting the drink down, ignoring that she’d brought it to him, but he doesn’t. There was something about it pulling him in, the chance to break the rules, to do something he’d never done before, tempting as he thinks about the fact his days are numbered. He nods and takes a sip, something simmering in his gut when she smiles widely at him. 
He’d never been able to say no to her anyway. 
She laughs at him when he grimaces at the taste, at the burn in the back of his throat, and for a moment they are children again, playing in her mother’s house with no regard for anything other than the fun they were having. The train jolts and pulls them out of it, bringing them back to the harsh reality they were in. 
“Can I ask you something?” She asks, and he nods in response, “What happened with you and Haley?” 
He smiles sadly, scratching the back of his head as he thinks of his ex-girlfriend, the woman he thought he’d one day marry, “We talked about the future. She wanted kids. I don’t,” he sighs and shakes his head, “I can’t imagine bringing a child into this world and then potentially sending them into this.” 
Emily nods even though he’s not looking at her, blowing out a steady breath, “I know what you mean. Especially now I’m a victor.” 
He looks up at her, his eyebrows knitting together with curiosity. He’s so close she could reach out and touch the line it creates between his eyebrows, press her thumb into the ravine that she’s sure would get so much deeper as he got older. 
If he ever got older. 
“Why?” 
She smiles sadly, “The kid of a victor would almost be guaranteed to go in the games,” she says her lips pressed together as she shrugs, “It makes good TV. It would show even the strongest of us aren’t protected.” 
There’s a pause, and it stretches out between them. Tied together with threads of their separate histories, tattered edges knotting together to create a morbid tapestry. 
“What about you and that guy from District One?” He asks, breaking the silence, his voice soft, as if he was afraid to ask. 
She smiles wryly, “Ian?” She says and he nods, making her chuckle, “Don’t believe everything you read, Aaron. He’s just a guy who won’t take no for an answer.” 
He isn’t sure what to say to that, how to feel about the wave of protectiveness that washes over him, so he clenches his teeth and decides to move the conversation on. 
“Where’s Kate?” He asks, looking at the amber liquid in his glass before he takes another sip, this one going down easier than the first. 
“Dave’s comforting her,” she replies, looking out the window, her gaze fixed on the trees, “She’s upset,” she says, even though it’s obvious. She looks at him and takes a moment to study him as he continues to look at his drink. He was handsome, he always had been, but the boyishness that had once been in his features had faded away. Sharp features had replaced once rounder ones as if they’d cut through from underneath, pushing away innocence and childhood with the harsh realities of life. He looks up at her and she clears her throat, pushing down the embarrassment that she feels at being caught staring at him, “What you did was really brave.” 
He laughs wryly and nods, blowing out a slow breath before he finishes his drink. It was objectively brave, he knew that, if he’d seen anyone else do it he’d think the same thing, but he didn’t feel brave. He couldn’t have let his brother do this, couldn’t let him march towards certain death when he could help. 
He wasn’t sure it counted as bravery when it was his only option. 
“He’s my brother,” he says simply, “I only did what was right,” he says as he puts down his empty glass. He can see her start to argue with him, the pinch between her brows something he’d seen countless times before, so he cuts her off before she can, “So, how does this work? Do you and Dave train us both? Do we have a mentor each?” 
She sighs at the change of subject but lets it slide, well aware that he needed to deal with this in the way he needed to, that her feelings weren’t important in any of this, “One each - I’ll be working with you, Dave will be with Kate.” 
He frowns, “I saw you with Tara last year,” he says, feeling momentarily regretful when she flinches for a second, a brief reaction she can’t control at the mention of the female tribute from the year before. She’d almost made it, survived until the final three, and then was killed by a career tribute from District One, “Don’t you usually work with the female tribute?” 
She nods, pressing her lips together to gather herself, “Yes but, because we’re friends Dave suggested I work with you,” she says, the lie slipping past her lips easily. 
She used to hate lying, used to think the truth was always the better option no matter what, but one thing she’d learnt since leaving the arena was that lying was the way to keep everyone she cared about safe. She’d asked Dave if she could work with Aaron and had ignored his concern. Selfishly, she wanted to spend as much time with Aaron as she could, so if she did lose him, if she had to watch him die helplessly and keep a straight face, she would be able to tell herself that she’d done her very best to help him. 
He chuckles wryly, “Friends? Em, we’ve barely spoken since I started to date…” he drifts off and shakes his head, cut off by the look of hurt that flashes across her face, guilt sparking in his gut, and the thought of his ex-girlfriend, her name turning to ash on his tongue at the thought of how she must be feeling about all of this. He sighs, “Look, that wasn’t fair. I’m-”
“No,” she says, tucking her loose hair behind her ear, “You’re right. I haven’t…” she sighs and a humourless laugh escapes her, “It’s not been an easy few years.” 
The guilt in his belly catches fire, spreading through his blood as he reaches out and places his hand on her arm. It’s only when he does it that he realises it’s been years since he’d touched her, and he feels like an addict, the desire to never let go forcing him to do just that, his hand springing back like he’d been burned. 
“I am sorry, Em,” he says, smiling tightly at her, “I can’t imagine how you’ve felt since you came back.” 
She looks down at her arm where he touched her, his warmth lingering where his palm had been. She knows she’ll inspect her skin later, that she’ll check to see if he’d left a mark behind, if he’d somehow branded her with a simple touch because she can almost feel it burn. She looks up at him and smiles, and she shrugs half-heartedly. 
“Well, in a few weeks when we’re back on this train, you’ll know.” 
It’s false optimism neither of them buy into, but he can’t help but smile back at her, “Yeah,” he replies, “I will.”
___
She’s running. 
Her lugs hurt, her feet her almost numb with pain, a dampness in her shoes she knows is blood and not water, but she can’t stop running.
Her life depends on it. 
“You can run, but you can’t hide pretty. The things I’ll do to you when I catch you.” 
She’s only forced further forward by Karl’s words, by the foul implication dripping from them. She’d seen what he’d done to some of the other girls, and had seen the joy he’d derived from it. Emily wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of killing her, she was going to outlive him or she was going out on her own terms.
She curses as she realises she’s run into a dead end, her feet just touching the cliff edge as she comes to a stop. She can hear him gaining on her, his thundering footsteps getting louder, and she closes her eyes, giving herself a second, one final moment of peace, but when she opens her eyes she sees a shimmer in the sky. It’s almost discernible from the blue of the fake sky in above her but she sees it. She chuckles as she remembers what Dave had told her about the forcefield, about the edge of the arena, and she pulls her knife out of her pocket. She looks over her shoulder and sees that Karl is right behind her, a smirk on his face as if he had won already. She looks straight ahead and she throws the knife, immediately ducking as it hits the forcefield and bounces back. She’s knocked to the ground by the force of the soundwaves that echo around her, her hand automatically covering her ears as she tries to protect them. 
Everything goes eerily silent, everything overwhelmingly quiet after so much nose, and her hands shake as she removes them from her ears. Her arms are unsteady as she pushes herself up off the ground. She walks over to where Karl is lying, the same smirk still painted on his face, a grim flash burn of the last moment of his life, and her knife planted firmly in the centre of his chest. 
She jumps when the canon goes off, half convinced until that moment she’d lost her hearing, and she looks up at the sky, Karl’s face briefly emblazoned on it, before the disembodied voice of the game maker fills the arena. 
“Ladies and Gentleman, the winner of this year's Hunger Games - Emily Prentiss.”
___
Aaron was exhausted. 
No matter how much training they did, how much preparation Emily had put him through the last few days, he couldn’t sleep. It alluded him, forever out of reach as he slept in a bedroom bigger than his childhood home. 
He’s walking around the apartment they’d been assigned when he hears her scream, the sound of it pulling him towards her room immediately. When he walks in she’s wrapped up in the bed sheets, twisting in the bed as if she’s trying to escape from something he can’t see. He runs over and sits on the edge of Emily’s bed, placing his hand on her sheet-covered knee and squeezing as he says her name.
“Em,” he says, quietly at first, not wanting to startle her, “Em, you need to wake up,” he says, shifting closer, his hand skating up her side as it lands on her shoulder. He turns her towards him and the look on her face, the devastation she couldn’t escape even in her sleep, makes him ache, “Sweetheart, please,” he says, the nickname slipping out of nowhere as he begs her to come back to him, “Wake up.” 
She sits up so fast that their foreheads would have collided if he hadn’t moved, a gasp loud enough to shake the walls escaping her as she looks at him, her eyes wide. She tries to shift away, as if she doesn’t recognise him, still half asleep as she tries to shake the rest of the nightmare off. 
“Emily, it’s me. It’s Aaron.” 
She breathes heavily, her chest rapidly moving up and down as she frowns at him, recognition finally seeping into her eyes, “Aaron?”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling encouragingly as he rests his hand on her shoulder again, grateful when she doesn’t flinch, “It’s me. I was walking past and I heard you.” 
She frowns, “Heard me what?” 
He presses his lips together briefly as he weighs up his options, but he knows she needs the truth, “I heard you scream.” 
“Oh,” she says, clearing her throat, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, “I’m sorry.” 
“You have nothing to apologise for,” he says, smiling softly at her. His gaze drifts to his hand on her shoulder and he lets it drop to the mattress, “Were you dreaming about the games?”
She nods, her hand pressed against her chest as her heart still hammers at her rib cage, the beat of it so hard she thinks her ribs might crack, that the places the Capitol doctors had put her back together would slowly unravel.
“Yeah,” she says, her nerves too shot from the nightmare to deny it, “It’s always the same moment.” 
He’d watched her games, and had felt relief when she’d won. It was the only one he remembers all the details of, the names of the other tributes forever burned into his memory.
They were people he’d prayed would die so the girl he loved would win. 
“What moment?” He asks without thinking, his eyes going wide as he realises what he’s said, “You don’t have to-”
“When I won,” she says, cutting over him, feeling a strange sense of relief in finally saying this to someone. She was under no illusion that her mother hadn’t heard her screams. Elizabeth made her coffee on the mornings after the worst nights, or sent for her favourite bread from the bakery. A silent apology that would have to do, because Emily knew if her mother asked about it, if she acknowledged what her daughter had gone through, the house of cards they’d built around themselves stuck together with half-truths and platitudes would come crumbling down, “It’s always the moment when I won.”
He nods, “The knife and the forcefield,” he says, “I didn’t know what you were doing at first.” 
She hums sadly, shaking her head she repeats the words she’d heard again and again anytime she saw footage of any of the games - hers included.
“The moment a tribute becomes a Victor,” she says, doing an impersonation of Penelope that gets a smile out of him that she matches, “Not that there are any Victors,” she says, her smile fading, “Just survivors.” 
Her words are heavy in the air, laying like a cloying blanket over them, an acknowledgement that even if he won that he’d never be free trapping them in place. He eventually clears his throat and starts to stand up.
“Well, I should go back-”
“Please stay,” she says, reaching out and grabbing his wrist before she can stop herself, her basic instinct to keep him close winning out over everything else, “I…please stay.” 
He doesn’t have to think about it, he simply nods and climbs into bed next to her, careful to make sure he’s on the other side of the mattress from her, their bodies not touching as they lay next to each other. For a moment it’s awkward but he turns his head to look at her, a half smile on his face as her eyes meet his.
“I think this bed is bigger than my bedroom at home.” 
She chuckles and rests her head back on her pillow, “I will give the Capitol one thing,” she says, blowing out a shaky breath, “They sure know how to make a mattress.” 
When they wake up in the morning they are tangled together on his side of the bed, wrapped up like vines that had grown side by side, destined to become indistinguishable from one another.
___
“He needs to smile more.” 
Emily doesn’t look at Dave, doesn’t tear her eyes from the screen as she slaps his chest with one hand, the other by her mouth as she bites her cuticles, “He’s doing fine.” 
“He’s lucky he has the whole volunteering for his brother thing on his side,” Dave says as he steps closer to the TV, Aaron’s one-on-one interview with Jason Gideon, the host of the games, happening live in front of them, “Let’s be honest, not a lot of star power on that screen right now.”
“Shut up Dave,” she says, finally turning from the screen and looking at him, “He’s doing his best. I didn’t do great either.” 
He nods thoughtfully, “True. I think that was the first time they’d ever had to censor a 15-year-old on the show before.” 
She chuckles and looks back at the screen, blowing out a slow breath as she looks at the other tributes sitting behind Aaron as he speaks to Gideon, her gaze fixed on one of them in particular, “I don’t like the look of him.” 
Dave frowns as he leans in and gets a closer look, “Oh, that intense guy from four? What was his name…”
“George Foyet,” she says, turning to look at him, “He reminds me of Karl. I think he’ll get a kick out of it all.” 
“He does have that look about him,” Dave replies, watching her carefully, concern washing over him. She was clearly close to Aaron, or had been at some point, and he was worried she was setting herself up to get hurt. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Aaron’s room had been untouched for days and that Emily wasn’t screaming in the middle of the night anymore. “Bella, are you-”
“Shh,” she says, tuning back into what was being said, aware that the conversation was wrapping up. 
“So, do you have a special lady waiting back home?” Gideon asks and Aaron looks down at his hands before he looks at the camera and he shakes his head. 
“No, I used to but…” he trails off and shakes his head, “We broke up.”
“That’s a shame,” Gideon replies, leaning forward in his chair towards Aaron, “There must be someone else though, someone else you’ve had your eye on.” 
Aaron sighs and Emily swears she can see his thought process, can see him physically weighing up the pros and cons of what he was about to say, “Well, there is someone. I’ve loved her for as long as I can remember” he says, his smile tight, “But it won’t ever work.” 
“Why not?”
Aaron looks down the camera, an intensity in his eyes that, for a moment, makes Emily feel like he’s talking directly to her, “Because I came here with her.” 
She feels her breath catch in her chest as she flicks her gaze to where Kate is sitting on the stage, any vague hope she’d felt the last few days, waking up in his arms even when they fell asleep on separate parts of the bed, gone in an instant. 
“Well I’ll be damned,” Dave says, shaking his head, “Maybe he does have it in him.” 
“Yeah,” Emily says, swallowing thickly, “Maybe he does.”
___
She avoids him after the interviews, purposely changing the habits she’d formed in the time they’d been in the Capitol, and it takes him a while to find her using the tactics she’d taught him on how to track someone against her.
He finds her on the roof of the building, her elbows resting on the edge as she looks out over the city. The fireworks going off in the distance make him feel sick, the celebratory feeling in the air more akin to that of a festival rather than marking the start of the death match between children that would begin in the morning. 
“Emily?”
She turns to look at him, her smile fake, the one she always wore in front of her mother or the cameras, as their eyes meet, “Aaron, what are you doing up here?” 
“Looking for you,” he replies, walking over to join her, “You disappeared.” 
“I don’t have the privilege of being able to disappear,” she says, her grip on the wall in front of her tightening as the smell of him washes over her. He smelt different here, clean and fresh in a way that wasn’t always possible at home, the Capitol’s array of soaps something that had surprised even her and her relative privilege when she first came here. He smelt different, but there was something that was still him sneaking out from underneath, “Don’t you want to spend the evening with Kate?” 
She regrets it as soon as she asks it, pettiness winning out for a second. It could be his last night in some sense of normality before he died and she was upset because her feelings had been hurt, her unrequited love for him that had followed her everywhere her whole life making itself known at the worst possible time. She looks up at him, expecting to see the sting of her words on his face, but she’s only met with confusion.
“Kate?” He asks, and then it clicks into place, the assumption she must have made when he was speaking to Gideon, trying to win some kind of favour with the audience. He’d thought about his literature class at school, how the teacher had always told them that a love story pulled people in, and he’d thought of Emily. Thought of how her seat had been empty during that class because she’d been here in the Capitol, ready to fight for her life. He’d loved her for so long that it had felt good to admit it, even if it wasn’t the whole truth, “Oh, no. Em-”
“I’m sorry,” she says, turning to walk away, “I think I’m just tired-” she’s stopped as he grabs her shoulders and turns her to look at him, his expression intense, a hint of fierceness to it that makes her breath catch in her throat, “What-”
He cuts her off, his words falling free before he can even think about stopping them. He could be brave now. 
He might not have many chances left, 
“I wasn’t talking about her,” he says, dropping his hands from her shoulders, both of them frozen in place, “I was talking about you.” 
It’s everything she’s ever wanted to hear at the worst possible time, and her chest shudders as she lets out a choked noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, “Me?”
“Well, I wasn’t talking about Dave,” he says, offering her a half smile that fades as she doesn’t respond to the joke, “Em-”
“Why did you never say anything?”
“You stopped talking to me,” he says, no malice in his voice, only confusion that somehow made him seem younger. 
“I was protecting you,” she says quietly, “President Barnes, she…well let's just say, the people close to Victor’s don’t always have the longest life expectancy. The entire time I was in that arena I told myself if I lived I’d tell you. I’d admit what I’d always been too scared to…but I wanted you to live and be happy,” she laughs bitterly, “Even if it was with someone else.” 
He knows her well enough to read between the lines and he steps closer, the space between them so small now he can feel her breath skip across his face, “Are you saying…”
She nods, her eyes boring straight into his, an intensity in the darkness of them he’d never seen before, “I love you too.” 
Everything shifts, everything he thought he knew suddenly different, and the lingering fear he’d felt for days about what he was about to do disappears. For a moment he feels nothing but love for her. He leans in to kiss her, drawn in by the way she’s looking at him, but she stops him, her fingers pressed against his lips as she shakes her head desperately. It physically hurts to stop him but she can’t let herself have this, can’t have a taste of him when he might die tomorrow. 
“No,” she says, the word catching in her throat, “I can’t. You’re…I’ve dreamt of this for years and I don’t think one kiss, one evening would ever be enough,” she says, her thumb still resting against his lower lip, her entire body aching to lean forward to kiss him, “I can’t spend the rest of my life desperately trying to remember what it was like to kiss you.” 
He wishes he could pretend that he didn’t understand, but he does. Any amount of time with her would never be enough. Whether it was one night or a lifetime, and if he was her, if he was the one sending her off to what could end up being her death, he knew he couldn’t do it either. That the unknown was better, that it would allow her imagination to live on after him. He tightens his hold on her, pulling her into a fierce hug so he doesn’t go against her wishes, settling for kissing the top of her head instead, for smelling her hair and the shampoo that had always been too nice for where they came from.
“How about,” he says, a hand on either side of her face as he pulls back to look at her, his thumbs catching tears as they land on her cheeks, “ If I live, I’ll take you on a date when I get back?” 
She chokes out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she shakes her head as she presses her forehead against his, “Aaron…” 
He cups the back of her head and encourages her backwards again, the same smile she’d fallen in love with when she was too young to understand what it meant painted across his face, “Come on,” he says encouragingly, “Give a man going off to his death something to live for.” 
She has to bite back the tears, not wanting his last memory of her to be one full of sorrow. She blows out a shaky breath before she nods. She smiles shakily at him and wipes a tear from his face as she does so, pushing it away trying to commit the feel of his skin against hers to her memory.   
“Okay,” she says, nodding, an edge of desperation to it, “It’s a date.” 
-x-
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tired-biscuit · 1 year
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Imagine giving General Kiba a handjob during an important meeting- 👀👀
18+ fem!reader / cw: mentions of alcohol and risk of getting caught. royalty AU. there's tension between kiba and shino in this one!!
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mead tastes better than you thought it would.
absent-mindedly staring at the dancing flames of the fireplace that's situated right across the great table you currently sit at, you consume the honeyed drink from your glass in small sips.
fine ladies such as yourself usually don't drink alcohol in order to obtain their graceful poise and elegant speech, you know this, however ever since your father had married - sold - you off to a war general instead of a duke, or at least a nobleman who'd know how to dance and use his utensils properly, you've since abandoned that particular idea.
so you sit there; in your 'i carry my own knife strapped to my belt like some heathen, instead of using normal silverware' husband's study. the study, which he lets you in only as of late, and which you've just realized looks absolutely divine, even if its visual does come off a tad bit blurry around the edges of your sight whenever you blink.
readjusting in your chair, you drag your gaze from one end to the other. the walls are decorated with tasteful art which he definitely did not pick or hang. the furniture, made out of wood that you suspect is surely walnut, pleasantly compliments the suave style of the entire space. incense burns in one corner, smelling prominently of sandalwood. it fills your lungs with warm hints of amber and worn leather.
it's all very male, the atmosphere, and as the minutes pass, the heaviness of it turns you somewhat dozy. truth be told, you could fall asleep right then and there, with your cheek laying flat against the table, dreams riddling your thoughts in no time. especially when you'd have thickly sweet mead warming your veins throughout the entire night, and you'd already managed to slip off your shoes just a moment prior.
wiggling your toes deeper into the carpet, you let out an appreciative sigh at how the rich material brushing against your bare soles feels astoundingly more intense than usual. being tipsy is great, you discover, and the carpet is thick and in the colour of a deep maroon red; its purpose only meant to add further to the already overly-sophisticated ambience of the room that doesn't suit the wildish personality of the general at all. you suppose that it's because he hasn't been using the study for long enough yet, but who knows?
still, you don't pay much mind to the thought as the feverish shade plays with your drunken brain the moment you dip your chin down to inspect it more closely. toes tightly curling, it's like your feet are touching molten steel from how warm and soft they've suddenly gotten, and it doesn't take you long to realize that you have no way of cooling them down.
the heat sits not on your skin; it instead brings your blood to a simmer.
your husband doesn't address the weight of your foot when you rest it on top of his boot underneath the table. with his nose nearly buried in copious stacks of maps and documents all representing your thriving nation that's ruled by the iron fist of your father, kiba has been ignoring you completely for the last three hours or so in order to strategize and prepare for his next campaign.
the war is over, he's won it - that is why you're here, after all - and yet he still works and plans ahead of time to foresee the next challenge that could possibly be thrown his way. it's a trait you catch yourself feeling slightly surprised by, perhaps even fond over; one that you wouldn't necessarily appoint to a careless brute like him.
he's all different kinds of clever than what you're normally used to, you realize. when he focuses, it's rather on anticipating attacks and finding ways to efficiently counter their assisting blows, than on poetry and music and the arts and just plain literature.
you've never seen him read a book, even if there are plenty in the library downstairs and inside this study alone. much less encountered him drawing something other than charts to place his platoons and battalions of soldiers on, and the childish-looking rabbits he sometimes scribbles for you to make you smile. philosophy is almost surely a foreign term to him, all he cares about is the bite of the fight.
so perhaps that, along with all the scheming and planning he does with his stoic advisor now, proves to be the reason as to why he hadn't fussed at all and had merely brushed you off with a quick wave of his hand when you'd whispered to him that you intend to pour yourself a drink. and a second. and later, a third.
either that, or he's slowly getting used to you actually having a mind of your own, and is letting you do whatever you please with it just so that you'd let him do his job in return.
but alas, your mind is bored. terribly so.
and standing next to your chair, with his arms spread out firmly on the table and his broad shoulders slumped, he looks mighty appealing as well.
applying further pressure to his boot, you watch as the bridge of his nose scrunches slightly at the contact. he doesn't say or do anything besides knitting his brows together, but by the time you repeat the action for a second time, way more persistently at that, he finally lifts his gaze from the group of small figurines he's been obsessively rearranging all across the map, and turns to look at you instead.
the moment your husband's attention moves onto you, his military advisor clamps his mouth shut; finally ceasing his seemingly-endless assessment of the area they've chosen to put the phantom-soldiers on, and that you've been forced to listen to for the last aeon or so.
well, not exactly forced, per se. you're in here by your own decision; because you've nagged kiba about wanting to see what his line of work looks like.
so whilst you're still trying to get used to the sudden silence to fall upon the room, you give a fleeting glance to the soldier that stands across from you, now. he's tall, fair-skinned and lean. handsome but guarded, as far as you can tell, since he doesn't even look at you, much less acknowledges your presence despite that you're of noble blood.
privilege doesn't seem to matter to military men. to him, you're just another woman amongst many. a mere breeding mare, as disgusting as that sounds.
your husband used to be just like that.
"yes, princess?" the man in question asks, putting your train of thought to an abrupt halt. when you whip your head to the side so that you can look up at him, you're able to tell that he's tired almost straight away. you can hear it in the prominent drawl of his voice and see it in his eyes. he's fed-up even if he loves to work, and it makes your brow furrow with concern.
"i-i... uhm," your tongue stumbles and you fall silent for a moment as heat steadily begins to creep up your neck. if it's because of the alcohol or the sudden racing that the sugary pet name invokes in your heart, you do not know. still, you swallow hard and calm your pulse down just enough to say, "i'm sorry, i just wanted to suggest if we'd call it a night...? you seem tired and it's getting quite late anyway, and-"
your voice fades into nothing for a second time around when he chooses to move. he's slow but everlastingly robust as he sighs and plops down onto the chair that's right on your left. his body slumps against the finely-carved details in the backrest and you try to pretend that you don't notice the visible cord that pushes against his neck when he moves to stretch it from side to side. try to play ignorant at how he spreads his legs underneath the edge of the table and sits as if he comandeers the entire room.
it's probably because he does.
he rubs at his eye now, all sleepy and laggard, and uses the other one to look at you. "let me just figure out if the terrain we chose is passable, and then i promise you that we'll head straight to bed." he blinks, then. fights back a yawn because he hasn't been sleeping well for nearly a week straight. "does that sound all right?"
a blush sears your face at his words, its warmth making your cheeks feel like they're tingling as you turn away and indulge in your sudden bashfulness. he might be a smooth talker or maybe you're just drunk, but goddammit; the fact that he's actually willing to put in the effort to settle on an agreement almost regularly now, lights your entire body on fire.
you're changing him for the better day by day and your lips keep tugging upward at the corners because of it, especially when you say, "yes, that's fine by me."
"good," he mumbles, taking note of the beam before he turns his attention back towards his aloof-looking subordinate. "now, where were we, shino?"
shino, as you've just learned is the advisor's name, quirks a dark, inquisitive brow at the exchange he's just witnessed. the man before you doesn't remember his general ever acting this considerate around anyone, much less a woman.
it makes his eyes dance between you as he clears his throat. "if i may suggest," his gaze goes back and forth again, "that if the lady wishes to retire for the evening, she should be free to do so? we've still got a lot of material to go through, and disturbances like these aren't of any help when it comes to making a decision, i'm sure."
disturbances.
your heart drops right down to the pit of your stomach. the fact that the word affects you is hard to hide; embarrassment makes your face burn once more, because now you've got your husband's thigh firmly pressing against the side of yours underneath the table. his knee bounces in a quick rhythm that doesn't help calming you down, but one bump to your leg reminds you to keep your spine ramrod straight and your chin held high.
when you look at him from the corner of your eye, there's a small smile playing on his lips. and yet, his voice sounds like it's being grit out through clenched teeth as he says, "i don't know what kind of wife you've got back at home, but mine sure isn't a disturbance; as you've so kindly put it."
"i understand that, sir," shino says, his voice remaining perfectly flat, "but she-"
"the lady suggested that we should perhaps put a halt on this thing, because she can tell that i'm fed up and fucking tired," the other man cuts in, pinching the bridge of his nose with his scarred fingers. "and as far as i can tell, that's not a disturbance; it's rather affection coming from a caring spouse. besides, she has a point. what fruitful decision had ever been made by an exhausted general?"
the advisor's eyes narrow as your own shoot wide open. your heart insists on fluttering back up towards its rightful place, even as shino says, "i don't seem to recall you ever being this careful during the planning of a campaign before... usually you're more than eager to run headfirst into battle and i have to be the one stopping you."
"well, i've got more important things to consider and worry about now. much larger things are at stake," the general replies, brushing him off with a simple gesture of his hand. "now, go fetch me that book you were talking about earlier; i think i saw it in the bookcase over there by the window. after we skim it, we can call it a night so that we're all happy."
he makes it sound like an order, not a request. and sure enough, his advisor is still a soldier, so he quietly obeys as he pushes away from the table and turns his back towards you both whilst heading towards the bookcase at the other side of the room. you don't miss the subtle albeit frustrated tick in his jaw as he does so. it makes you muse.
meanwhile, kiba uses the chance to press a hasty kiss to your still-warm cheek. the sudden affection nearly makes you audibly gasp, but you're fast to stifle it down even if the mead in your belly tells you not to.
instead, you place your hand on his thigh and don't dare look into his big brown eyes as you mutter a meek, "i'm sorry."
"eh? what on earth are you sorry for, princess? you were just looking out for me, were you not?" he rasps, his voice no longer sharp, but playful. "besides, shino should be the one apologizing for acting like a stuck-up cunt towards my goddamn wife."
"oh, you can't just-" a small giggle bubbles up your throat at his blatant cursing. you're quick to cover your mouth with your other palm, but a fraction of it still manages to slip out. he can't deny it anymore; the sound jumpstarts kiba's very heart.
he doesn't tell you this, but he's growing more fond of you with each passing day. you bring sunshine and warmth into his existence by merely existing yourself. slowly figuring out a functioning dynamic that works well between you, sharing a bed and sometimes a bath, having someone to talk to late at night, receiving little signs of affection; it all makes him feel like life is worth living. like he's worth living for.
so it's no wonder why his hand cups your chin and he whispers, "so... could i perhaps get a little kiss? as a reward for being such a good husband?"
you're clearly flustered, because now you're looking at him from underneath your lashes as you mumble, "now?"
"mhmm," he purrs, draping his free arm over the backrest of your chair. "right now."
"but what if your advisor-"
"you know that book i mentioned earlier?" he interrupts, leaning in even closer. he smells like a forest; deep and rich, earthy. it titillates your senses.
"mm," is all you offer in answer. god, you're so drunk that the heat between your legs is pulsating in his presence. it's becoming almost unbearable, you feel like a whore despite that he's your husband.
he glances towards the other man in the room, whose back is still turned towards you as he keeps searching the bookshelves. "...well, i might have forgotten to mention that it's up in my bedroom because i'd been reading it just last night."
you blink, clearly surprised. "you read?"
"only when i have to." he glances across the room again before he licks his lips and says, "but the point i'm trying to make is that he's gonna be searching for it for a long while, so i think it's safe to say that a kiss would go entirely unnoticed."
you sigh at this, but succumb rather quickly. it might be because of the alcohol that's still coursing your system or because of his coaxing and urging, but by the time your lips press against his own softly, aiming for a simple peck, he's quick to immediately turn it into something deeper.
he just likes you so much. and can you blame him that he wants a little bit of loving from the person he admires, after the tough, absolutely draining week he's had? he's just so needy.
and he's also a messy kisser. your whimper is silenced when he pushes his tongue inside your mouth and licks your teeth with the swift arrogance of an assured male. he angles your head by pressing his thumb underneath your chin and sucks on your bottom lip until it starts to feel awfully tender and bruised. you can feel the slight grazing of his unnaturally sharp incisor every once in a while as he continues to taste you. it's enough to drive a woman completely mad.
especially because you can feel him hardening just underneath your palm, now. it seems that your treacherous hand had decided to act upon its own selfish desires whilst you were too busy handling his tongue in your mouth, and had inched higher up his leg until it'd finally settled on the now-prominent bulge that resides in his pants.
by the time you pull apart for air, his cock is already pushing against the buttons and there's a string of saliva connecting your panting mouths. his cheeks are flushed, brown eyes glazed as he releases his hold on your chin and swipes his thumb across your lip to get rid of the spit there.
"we shouldn't-" you start, but he silences you by wedging his thumb between your plush lips and pushing it into your mouth, right to the knuckle. you can see his pupils dilate when your first instinct is to suck on it.
"fuck, you've got such a good-lookin' mouth; but i can't... just..." he mumbles somewhat dazedly now, his voice hoarse in that appealing way that tells you he's horny out of his fucking mind, and so quick, too. he inhales a sharp breath, shaking his head as if he's trying to gather his thoughts before he focuses on you again and rasps, "just stroke it. over my pants."
when you give his advisor a sidelong glance, you're relieved to find out that he's still stubbornly searching for the book in hopes of not disappointing his superior. but unfortunately for you, your husband isn't pleased with you directing your attention on another man at a crucial time like this.
"hey... look at me, princess," he taps his fingers against your cheekbone and presses his thumb onto the flat of your tongue, making you wince in surprise when your throat tightens in answer. "i need you to stroke my cock, all right?"
all you do is grunt in response. the sound comes out muffled.
"it'll just look like we're whispering to each other. you know, as a married couple does from time to time," he inches closer, his way of speaking urgent. "i promise he won't notice a thing."
he's gotten so desperate now that he's even wrapped his hand around your own and started moving it up and down his length. when your grip tightens around his clothed cock, you watch in awe as he bites his lip to suppress a groan.
his arm is still resting on your chair's backrest when he pushes forward again and nearly covers your body from sight with his own. hunching his back, he tries to hide the way his ribcage expands whenever he sucks in breaths that grow deeper by the second. you can feel the film of sweat on his forehead when he rests it against your own.
"sir? i can't seem to find the book," shino starts. your heart nearly gives out at the sound of his voice, it's like lightning flashes throughout your every cell.
"keep lookin', i'm sure it's in there somewhere," kiba bites out immediately. all polite talk has ceased to exist.
"but-"
"that's an order, soldier."
you push his thumb out of your mouth with the help of your tongue to chide, "that doesn't seem really convincing! if he turns around, it'll-"
"look like we're gossiping," kiba persists. you nearly squeak when his fingers dig into your gown and rest on your thigh. "like a married couple; just like i've said."
"h-hey-"
"just keep going," he hisses. his eyes are so dark that it makes you fear they'll swallow you whole, and as if he can sense your growing anxiety, he forces his gaze to soften a bit before he adds, "please. you're doing such a good job and i really want this."
you're scared of getting caught because you're supposed to be representing the image of innocence, but truth be told; you're also impeccably thrilled at the same time. he feels big in your hand; fat and heavy and warm between your fingers even over the layer of fabric. every time you squeeze him over his pants, he twitches and bucks his hips right into your touch just to gain more friction.
"fuck yes, princess." every breath is ragged. "that's it... gonna make me cum so fast."
"shh! keep quiet."
it's kind of sweet, how evidently he needs you. but it's also lewd.
the things this man's libido makes him do is unbelievable. it's only been a couple of days since he's last made love to you, and here he is; with his sanity nearly crumbling down to its pillars whilst teaching you how to give him a not at all subtle, under-the-table handjob even if there's an audience nearby. you can't believe he's willing to risk his rank or fall subject to despicable rumours for just a mere touch of your hand.
either he's absolutely delirious, or he's a fool in love. but nevertheless, by the time shino at long last admits defeat and confesses he's unable to find the book; he's also sated.
and as for you; well, let's just say it's hard not to laugh at the knowledge that your husband's pants are sticky with cum when you excuse yourself from the table and he's stuck in the study, rearranging his little toy soldiers.
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captain-mj · 9 months
Note
Hear me out, Soapghost, Brahm's The Boy. Eh?? Eh??
I've been talking about this movie a stupid amount lately so... yeah, I'll eat this up. CW: This is based off a horror movie so it's the normal stuff, violence, stuff like that but also noncon voyeurism (Ghost watches Soap without him knowing but also listens to him) and Soap is just in general a bit of a freak
Made quite a few changes but it's the same premise
His interviewer had been a kind older man named Price. He was only in his 30's and was clearly capable of running the place, but he had been told to hire someone while he took a much needed vacation. Apparently, no one else stayed in the house but Price, which seemed a bit odd as he was clearly someone hired on, not the owner. Price had went through all of his duties and most importantly, he went over the lovely, lovely salary.
Soap had thought this job was just a bit too good to be true. He had to do some basic house sitting things and then he was clear. Also, he had to be nice to this doll.
The thing was... honestly kinda cute. His body was soft cotton over some stuffing and a skull design. Yeah, he wasn't the best of dolls, but he was a doll.
A cute doll. But a doll. nonetheless. His name was Ghost.
Regardless, he followed the rules. He had grown up Scottish and hearing of Brownies and other little folklore creature. Make breakfast. Give Ghost doll a kiss on forehead. Don't question any weird happenings, it's an old house. Make dinner, leave a section for Ghost. And always make sure to leave a cup of tea out at night. One cream, two sugars. Extra strong tea.
It tasted like tea, just rather sweet. Soap didn't like it. He had tried to make himself a cup to have with the mystery thing in the walls, but he ended up stopping and going to bed after a while. Each time, the food and drink was consumed.
Soap had... accepted that something was there with him. He was fairly certain it was a cat or something that could smell the cream. Most of the dishes were fairly meat based or had a lot of broth. It didn't make the most sense, but the alternate was a dog and he'd rather not think about some silent mutt walking around stealing food off the tables. Riley, the only dog on the entire property, was far too well trained for such behaviors. The little dog was odd, often staring at the walls for hours or sometimes disappearing around corners. Soap wasn't a big fan of dogs but he did make exceptions for her.
Things were a little spooky sometimes, but Soap never found himself being frightened. I mean... Ghost was a pretty good protector he always joked with the people that delivered groceries. Plus, whether it be ghost, monster or a dog, it hadn't come close to Soap yet. It occasionally made the floor creak or moved things, but nothing bad or mischievous.
The fact that he got to live in this huge house that sprawled out over acres of land and had it's own lake was excellent too. Every week on Sunday, someone would deliver groceries. It was clear they were being altered slightly, no two exactly the same although meals interlapped all the time, but Soap chalked it up to a delivery system that lets someone schedule different orders.
"Do you know anything about the man that hired you?" The delivery guy always spoke in hushed tones, looking around the home nervously, as if a man would pop up out of nowhere to bring death and ruin, but now, they werespeaking at barely above a decibel, glancing around feverishly.
Soap shrugged. "No. Just know how much I'm paid and what my job entails. Why?"
"Simon Riley was an odd guy, even before the fires. Some people insist he started them. He's an odd fellow. if he hired you, I'd tread lightly." The man looked at him uneasily before glancing at the wall directly behind Soap. His mouth fell into a grimace. "Fucking freak."
Soap felt a weird surge of protectiveness. Yes, he had never met Simon in person, but the entire place felt like a huge memorial to his family. Each room decorated like they'd come back to it and, if this guy was to believed, that meant he had to recreate each detail. He was also a very generous employer and he'd never wronged Soap or anyone that he'd talked to. Soap wanted the man out of the house, feeling a very strong sense of being watched thanks to the entire situation. "Haven't met him. Thank you."
The man looked at him with something strangely similar to pity before nodding. "See you next week, MacTavish." He left Soap alone to put the groceries away.
"Fucking asshole." Soap started to put the groceries away and quickly heard the floor creak. "Ghost?"
Complete silence.
He ignored it and put everything away. After stretching real quick, back popping and limbs burning just a little, he tried to decide what to do. His shoulder injury was acting up so most things were out. Damn thing had already gotten him discharged after only a year in the services, he didn't see the reason for it to keep tormenting him.
Riley seemed to have an idea so he took her on a walk. Most dogs preferred schedules, Soap knew, but according to Price, Riley was an ex military dog and had a mind of her own. Soap thought she was like him and after the military, they just liked experiencing each day as a new thing. Not just a repeat of the old ones.
She stopped at the edge of the property and kept glancing at him before trying to trot a little farther away. Soap whistled and she walked back, clearly displeased that he didn't follow her. Riley barked at him and circled him before tapping her nose against his thigh like she was trying to herd him. He laughed her off and motioned back inside. She followed, though clearly still upset about it.
Soap went and showered, letting the hot water filter over him. Price had assured him that the only cameras were on the outside of the house, but he always felt watched in here. Ghost, his little doll companion, always waited outside. It was silly, not wanting the doll to be able to look at him, but he couldn't help it.
Right now, the feeling wasn't there and Soap took a deep breath before letting his hand slide down. He had no way of knowing that Ghost was right on the other side of the wall, silently holding his breath.
His hand reached down slowly, just barely stroking himself. He bit his lip hard and stroked himself a little more earnestly, getting a tiny gasp that set Ghost's insides on fire.
Soap closed his eyes, going through a few different scenarios. The first thought was of being interrogated, but it felt a bit too harsh. His thoughts drifted to the masked men he had met in the army. The idea of their hands on him.
"Please..." He choked hard, thrusting in hands. "Oh, please." Soap tried for a few minutes, but the edge he needed wasn't there. He shifted his weight, spreading his legs a little so he could reach his hand lower down to press against his hole..
The name popped up in his head. "Ghost." Why he said it out loud was beyond him, but it made the person listening very happy to hear. And very hard.
With shaking hands, Simon undid his belt and tried to make his hand follow Soap's movements based on the grunts and noises he heard. He could turn his head and look through the small crack and watch. Really give himself a show, but he wanted to show some restraint.
Soap managed to get his finger inside and groaned. "Please, Ghost. It feels good."
Ghost's breath sped up and so did his hands. His hips moved of their own accord, jerking up and chasing the pleasure. He could only imagine how Soap would feel. Probably far better than his hand. As long as Soap stayed in his house, he'd take care of him. He got rid of that nasty delivery guy and he'd get rid of anyone else.
Soap was his.
His.
He whimpered and heard Soap stop immediately. Ghost held his breath again as Soap quickly turned off the shower and they both waited to see what would happen.
"John?" Soap called out, listening.
Ghost didn't dare move an inch. This particularly floorboard was creaky and he couldn't risk it.
After a moment, Soap turned the shower back on and quickly finished getting himself cleaned up. He didn't finish though, clearly too freaked out. Ghost scratched at his skin, pissed he had just fucked that up.
Ghost fixed the grocery list again and Soap was happy to get the groceries from the new person the next week.
They were very nice and handed him everything. One of the items was a bottle of lube.
Soap felt himself turn bright red. He had long forgotten about the shower incident, marking everything down as the house settling.
How embarrassing.
However, the lotion was a high quality kind and it looked... Soap had only had lotion and his spit, neither were that great for penetration.
Minutes later, after the stuff that would go bad got put in the fridge, he was using it. He was gagging for it, a little upset his fingers could only go so deep. Soap was rough with himself, liked it that way. His fingers kept going after he felt he'd explode from overstimulation before he finally let himself collapse.
Ghost enjoyed the show and wondered how Soap would feel about dildos. There was no way he'd be able to put that in the order without suspicion, but if ever came out...
No. It was a horrible idea. Despite how nice and inviting Soap looked right now.
Then he came. An ex boyfriend of Soap's. It made Soap stupidly angry just seeing him and when he tried to go in to grab him, he almost clocked him. However, it was clear he was drunk and he wanted to know how he found this address so he bit his tongue and let him in.
"Johnny! Johnny!" He moaned, stepping around and around before finally stumbling into the couch. "You disappeared on me, babe."
Soap took a deep breath to try to calm himself. "I broke up with you, Kent. Remember? I'm not interested anymore." Riley sat nearby, a watchful eye. She did not growl or bark or even announce her presence. She waited.
"Listen, I know I made mistakes. But come on. They were honest."
"Let's talk about this when you're sober in the morning, yeah?" Soap made sure to enunciate, not wanting to hear any snide remarks about his accent from him. "I have things I need to do. Just sleep here." He grabbed Ghost, always careful to hold him with both hands and to his chest. The doll wasn't the largest thing and he was sure he could handle being dropped but... well, it just didn't feel right to do so.
Kent sat up. "What's that thing?"
Soap paused and mulled over his words. "Nothing too important. Just part of taking care of the house. I'll put it away real quick."
"Freak owner wants you to babysit his dolls?"
Soap felt himself bow up, gritting his teeth. Instead, he just bit that back as well. "Don't be so mean to the owner. He seems like a nice guy. Just go to sleep and don't throw up on the carpet." He fled the room, torn between wanting to scream at Kent or just beat him. Regardless, he didn't want to deal with him intoxicated at all so he'd wait until later.
Kent finally noticed Riley. "Thought you hated dogs."
"I do but she's a nice companion."
"You must have to vacuum constantly."
Soap paused and frowned. "What?"
"German Shepherds shed a lot unless you groom them regularly. Do you groom her?"
Soap knew fuck all about dogs, but as he thought about it, yeah, he had always heard people complain about how much shepherds shed and he hadn't groomed Riley once. A few hairs had been stuck to his palm after grooming, but her coat remained pristine. "No. Go to sleep."
Ghost went to his bed and received his little kiss on the forehead. Soap like always pulled the blankets up to the dolls chin and then patted him before leaving.
He didn't sleep well. Kept feeling like someone was standing over him.
Soap made breakfast, two plates sat side by side. It didn't really register until Kent was thanking him for cooking and scooping up his plate that he had a guest. Explaining that he had a weird arrangement with the thing living in his house seemed... well a bit insane. As much as he willingly followed the rules, he wasn't sure he wanted to explain them to anyone else. So he stayed quiet and silently apologized to Ghost.
Soap made himself coffee and a cup of tea that he purposely put out of Kent's sight. "So how did you find me?"
"Your mom. Johnny, this felt a bit extreme don't you think? I understand if you hate me. But ditching your whole family?"
Soap swung around, gripping the spoon in his hand like it was it was an actual weapon that could do damage. "Fuck you, Kent. You don't get to fuck around with other people, take advantage of the fact I lost my job, my career, my passion."
"Jesus, Johnny. You lost the military. Big fucking deal. It's better than if you got blown up out there."
"Would've preferred it to dealing with you."
Kent scowled and grabbed Ghost. "So what? You prefer sitting up here, playing dolls than being in the real world? Your family misses you and"
"They can keep missing me. I don't want to talk with them. I don't want to talk with you. And I really think it's best you leave."
Riley snorted and put herself between Soap's legs to heel. Despite her relaxed appearance and peaceful nature, not even hunting squirrels in her retirement, she was tensed up. Clearly ready to maul if just given the order.
"Riley, stay down girl." Soap lightly tapped his ankle against her side in a move he had seen the K-9 units at work use. "Kent, put the doll down. I think it's a sentimental thing for the owner."
"No. This is ridiculous. You sit up here, acting like this. For what? Some guy? You two fucking or something?"
"No, I haven't even met the guy, just put Ghost down." Soap could hear the desperation creeping into his voice.
Kent paused. "Ghost?"
If either of them bothered to stop and listen, they'd hear the creaking of the floorboards. Angry tapping on the walls.
Soap paused. "Yeah. The guy who hired me called him Ghost so I just started calling him that. Just put him down."
Riley left her heel and Soap almost panicked before seeing that she was standing by the mirror she loved.
Kent stared him, suddenly seeming a lot more hateful than he did just a moment ago. He then grabbed the doll and tore it along the inseam on the back.
Cotton fell out but so did scraps of cloth and something metal that hit the floor with a clunk.
Dogtags. Soap would recognize the sound anywhere. It made sense. Simon was probably ex military, same as Riley and Soap.
They sat on the floor next to the cotton and then there was another crack, this time of the glass on the mirror.
Kent whirled around, freezing for a moment. The lights ahead seemed to flicker, but that may have just been his imagination. Soap watched mutely as Kent went to the glass and touched it, following the cut. "Weird. Probably change in air pressure or so-"
A gloved hand smashed through the glass to grab him. Giant fingers pressed into his face as he slammed him into the frame of the mirror, letting him go and making him stagger.
Ghost shoved through the rest of the glass and leaned down to step through.
Big.
Soap pulled back, heart fluttering from fear. He watched this stranger with a skull mask just like Ghost's grab Kent and wrestle him to the floor effortless. Kent struggled but this man was a lot bigger and more importantly, better trained. He struck out and broke Ken's nose, blood splattering on the floor.
"Ghost!" Soap quickly tried to get his attention. The stranger faltered and looked up. Giant brown eyes looked at him. Prettiest eyes that Johnny had ever seen. "Stop."
Just as well trained as Riley, Ghost pulled back. He stepped on Kent's hand as he walked to Soap, staring down at him intensely.
Soap backed up into the kitchen island.
"Johnny." Ghost... purred. The name felt foreign on his tongue, but the response it got from Soap made it perfect.
"Simon?"
Ghost's eyes crinkled from smiling. "Yes. It's nice to finally meet you." He kept advancing until they were pressed against each other. Soap was taken back by the size difference but Ghost fixed that by leaning down. His mask face rubbed against his jaw and along his throat before... sniffing him.
Soap gripped the counter and took a deep breath. He wasn't afraid. Not one bit and honestly that should probably scare him or even just bother him but....It didn't. It didn't at all.
"Johnny." Ghost pressed tight against him, hands finding their way to his hips before sliding them under his shirt. "Thank you, thank you."
Soap wasn't sure what Ghost was thanking him for but before he could ask, he heard the dull thwack of something hitting Ghost's back.
There was a moment of silence before Ghost caught the poker on it's second swing. He glanced at Soap, clearly pleading.
"Go for it."
Watching Ghost beat Kent should've done something. Maybe he should've ran. But Soap had missed the violence and he did not miss Kent one bit.
Watching Ghost move was alluring as well and Soap felt a flush get to his cheeks as his body reacted. He should tell him to stop. Kent wasn't moving.
Soap let out a sharp gasp and Ghost turned his head back to him, blood splattering on his mask now.
"I'll be good." Simon promised. "Better than him. I'll be your good boy."
Johnny stared at him. "I know you will. My good boy, yeah?"
Simon let go of the poker from the fireplace, letting it slide. "Sunshine, do you mind giving us the room?"
Riley ran, knocked her head against his leg, and then quickly ran out. Tail wagging.
"You call her sunshine?"
"Course. She's my sunshine and you're my love." Simon said it so earnestly. So big and so hot and then he was pressing Soap against the island again. "Kiss?"
Soap swallowed and kissed his cheek, making Ghost whine. "Please... Please..." He tilted his head, making it clear what he wanted but letting Soap lean in. Their lips meet, the soft fabric between them getting in the way but Soap could still feel Ghost's lips moving against his own.
Simon pulled away, eyes hazing and adoring. Almost obsessive. He rubbed his cheek against Johnny's. "I'll be your good boy."
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captainmera · 8 months
Note
I want to ask what Oliver thinks of the following bloods:
Cow blood, Bird blood (like doves or quail), deer blood, and lamb blood
Also, does he like blood sausages then?
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details below! :) [read IBWR here!]
ANIMALS:
Cow: Expensive, but can taste really nice if the cow was healthy. But you seldom get blood from just one cow, it's a mixed liquid.
Bird: Oliver likes chicken blood most out of all birds he's had - which is.. not a lot. Most chickens in London were fed seeds lumped with butter. So their blood leaves the same feeling in the roof of his mouth as butter sauce does. - Doves he'd feel weird about as it's probably somebody's pet.... Not that he haven't tried it or anything. He just feels bad about it.
Deer: Never had it.
Horse: Has had it. It tastes terrible. He'd only drink horse blood if it was absolutely necessary. But that might just be an Oliver thing and not an every-vampire-thing.
Pig: Just as good as human, he'll pick it over any of the other. Some butchers are aware of this, though, and depending on the butcher, they'll either keep the pig blood the same for everyone, or add a bit to the price.
Lamb: Oliver actually really like lamb blood. But he feels a bit religiously torn about that. Paul told him it was fine and Darcy told him it wasn't. So Oliver kind of flip flops on whatever it's okay for him to drink it or not. He has asked his pastor about it and he gave the thumbs up in a pinch.
Rats: He's had rat blood before, it's about as bad as horse.
Dogs/Cats: He had dog, once. Never again. Never had cat, wont try cat. He still feels bad about the dog, even if it couldn't really be helped.
Fish: Light, tastes so clean it might as well be water. It's not potent at all and really difficult to measure how much of it is needed, probably a bucket full of fish gut to have the same potency as a soup-spoon of human blood. It's honestly barely worth measuring. It's the only blood vampires feel safe accidentally consuming because it's just so pointless. (which is Lucky for Oliver, as his best bud is a selkie who eats fish all the time and likes sharing fish with him)
BLOOD IN FOOD:
Blood in food is complicated for vampires in general.
If they make it themselves, fine! Then they know how much is in it, they get to measure it themselves and can be precise about the amount, and eat it in a timely manner so that they have consumed what they need in the time they need it.
Blood pudding, for one, is Oliver's favourite go-to when the blood is about to go bad. Then he can keep it shelfed a little longer.
There's also sealing blood in bottles. Basically you put the blood in the bottle or jar with a bit of lemon juice squeezed into it. Then you boil the bottle/jar with a lid on and then you can keep it in the cupboard for basically years and you've conserved the content - though, do check it regularly so the lid isn't popped or something. If you didn't screw it tightly then it's all work for nothing (you can do this with soup and any food too btw.)
Given you have access to lemon, that is. Or didn't fuck up the process somewhere.
WHEN GIVEN FOOD is where it gets complicated.
Someone might have thought it would be a welcoming gesture to serve blood sausages or meat with blood-wine sauce.
This often leads to awkward situations as the vampire will have to abstain from eating, then. As they cannot risk going over their consumption limit. They don't know how much blood is in each serving after all and may not be prepared (or able) to do the math on the spot.
Blood, basically, is something they need to keep track on regularly, lest it escalate and make their lives harder.
Some people don't understand the measurement thing and will get frustrated "but vampires need blood, right? I got out of my way to make something nifty for you. Im helping." and then there's conflict.
It's just difficult sometimes, to live life with invisible rules that dictate your life and only a handful of people are willing to listen and understand the difficulties of it.
People with allergies, medication, diabetes or other ailments might relate to this particular brand of problems, as sometimes people just don't know better - and sometimes they don't even bother to care a little bit.
Oliver's friends and family does, though. His father keeps blood in his house, just in-case Oliver doesn't have any. His buddy Sebastian tries to keep a perfume bottle of conserved blood on his person, in a pinch.
:)
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bluelancess · 4 months
Text
Midnight Blooms | Elriel AU chapter 2/?
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Sports romance, college AU.
Summary: When Elain is told by her father, a ruthless politician, that she is to marry the son of one of his closest friends, Lucien Vanserra, to assure her father’s win on the next election, she has no other choice but to agree. What she never expected was her convictions being tested by a tall, devastatingly beautiful black-haired hockey player who moved in right next door. And if there was one thing Elain was certain of, was that Azriel posed a dangerous threat to the previously dormant desires roaming inside her. And she needed to stay far, far away from him.
Tags: forbidden love, arranged marriage, forced proximity, modern setting, slow burn
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Read on AO3.
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Chapter 2
I notice everything you do or don't do
AZRIEL 
Cassian hits my shoulder hard with one of his huge hands as soon as the main door to the girl’s house closes, and none of them are looking at us anymore. He has probably been waiting to punch me since the invite for the party escaped my lips. 
Good thing he didn’t aim for the jaw or cheekbone, although we do have a no-face-punching rule, but Cassian tends to forget it pretty often. Or at least that’s how he excuses himself every fucking time. 
“What the fuck was that, Az?” He grunts my way. “You want to kill our party before it even starts?” 
“Don’t be so dramatic,” I tell him, taking a couple steps back, I’m holding my third bottle of beer in my right hand, it’s almost over, the liquid pretty much room temperature. 
Last semester, when we lived in that awful one bedroom apartment near campus, parties were one hundred percent off limits. We didn’t even have a living room, for fuck’s sake. The kitchen consisted of the tiniest little oven ever, and a sink that barely fit two plates and a mug. Granted, the rent was cheap. So cheap, we could spend the rest of our money on take-out, liquor and WiFi, which is pretty much all you need to survive college. 
But a couple weeks before finals, the whole building was infested with the fattest, and ugliest rats I’ve ever seen, Cassian even made a sport out of getting the little fuckers out of the apartment, and I guess it was a silent agreement that we couldn’t stay there for another year. No fucking way. 
So I saved every penny I got from all the jobs my boss assigned me during the summer. Yes, maybe not all of them were entirely legal, but they payed generously and in cash, how was I supposed to pass the opportunity when it got us this amazing house? It is only a bonus that we have three, hot as fuck neighbors. Almost like the universe is rewarding us for all the shit it made us go through when we were children. 
About fucking time. 
“Dramatic? I’ve been planning this thing for weeks,” Cassian says, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand. “It’s the last time I can get properly drunk before practice starts. Coach is a pain in the ass with his no-drinking-during-the-season-or-get-the-fuck-out rule, and you know it.” 
“Let’s go inside,” Rhys says, leaving the end of the sentence hanging unsaid in the air, but I imagine it would go as something like: you uncivilized brutes. 
“You’re just proving my point, Cass,” I say, hiding a smile, looking over my shoulder one last time at the house on the other side of the street, I stop on my tracks when I see the curtain of the kitchen window rustle. Are they still watching us? 
Is she still watching us?
The pretty, quiet one. Fuck, I couldn’t look away from those big, sweet eyes and those full, pink lips. I’d die to just give them a little taste, a tiny bite until she’s melting and moaning against me. I remember her from last year. We took a class together, I’m pretty sure she never really noticed me. She sat at the front, I sat on the back. She was quiet, so shy, did all the group assignments on her own, and always got the highest grade. The professor used to be a jerk and tease her because she was so smart, but so damn quiet she never showed how fucking intelligent she was to the rest of the class. I had to fight the urge to kick his ugly ass whenever he started his shit with her. 
It made the whole class laugh at her expense, the fucking asshole. 
I admit my reasons for inviting them to the party were completely selfish. I saw an opportunity and took it. Now, the real surprise would be if she actually shows up tomorrow night. 
“I also think it is a good idea to have them over for the party,” Rhysand says, putting one hand on my left shoulder, and the other on Cassian’s, guiding us inside the house. “They won’t call the cops if they’re having a good time. Right, Az?” 
I shrug. “Sure.”
“Oh, come on, you two,” Cassian shakes his head like his disappointed. “Always thinking with your dicks.” 
“Not my problem that girl is giving you blue balls.” I say, walking a bit faster to get away from him before he decides to punch something other than my shoulder. 
Cassian grunts. 
“Is that why you’ve been so moody all summer?” Rhys asks lifting a brow, and Cass shoots him a death glare. “Wait, don’t tell me you fell in love with this girl after just one night, Cassian. We’re not fifteen anymore” 
“Shut up, asshole.” 
“I’m just saying.” Rhys lifts both hands in the air, innocently. 
I smile, watching them. We’ve been together, the three of us, since we were little kids. Pretty much fending for ourselves in a world that doesn’t like people like us. Alone, but never really lonely. From foster home to foster home. By some miracle, we were always placed together in different families. Five to be exact. Most kicked us out after a couple months, claimed we were too much to handle, or whatever the fuck that means. 
We were children, noisy, curious, maybe a little too energetic, but they wanted us to behave like robots, follow orders to a tee, never complain, and of course, they wanted the government’s money. Turns out, dealing with us wasn’t worth the little compensation they were receiving, so ultimately all of them ended up throwing us back into the black whole we came from. 
Everything changed when we got to Gramps and Nana’s house. Recently retired, house empty after their biological kids were all grown up and left, they decided to take us in. Treated us like their own. It was so unlike every single other house we’d been at, the we contemplated running away the first two weeks. It felt too good to be true. Almost like a trap. 
Nana won us over with her killer brownies and Gramps taught us everything he knew about hockey. 
We wouldn’t be here without them. 
“Well, don’t ask,” Cassian starts walking up the stairs, like the subject actually bothers him, which is completely unusual for him. “I’m telling you guys, those girls are going to be nothing but trouble.” 
Rhys eyes gleam like he’s visualizing exactly what Cassian is referring to, and he’s up for the challenge. 
“Isn’t that the fun of it, Cass?” Rhys teases him. 
“When you’re the one walking around with blue balls over that girl, Rhys, we’ll talk.” 
“Oh, but I won’t.” Rhys’ voice is laced in arrogant confidence. 
“She has a boyfriend,” I remind him, nearing our brand new couch in the living room. It’s dark blue, almost black, and it’s huge. It had to be, if it wants to fit the three of us at the same time. Gramps gifted it to us before we moved here, said he couldn’t bare the thought of us sitting on the floor on such a big house. Is pretty much the only piece of decent furniture we own. 
“Not for long.” Rhys shrugs, opening the fridge we have in the living room and grabbing another beer. It seemed like a better place than the kitchen, considering that if we’re watching sports we don’t have to walk all the way there to grab something to drink. 
Cassian barks a laugh. “You’re too cocky, is going to bite you in the ass.” 
“I happen to enjoy ass bites.” Rhys laughs again, and I’m silently glad we’re not fighting. 
We hardly ever do. 
We’ve been through so much already, always sticking together, and having each other’s back, that there doesn’t seem to be anything that would be important enough for us to fight over. 
Cassian shakes his head, and climbs the stairs like he has so much pent up energy he’d like to release. A couple seconds later, he’s blasting music in his bedroom and to probably hide the annoying noise his rusty-ass treadmill makes. It’s so old the damn thing is practically falling apart by just looking at it. 
“If I’d known those three lived here, I would’ve moved out from that rat hell a lot sooner,” Rhys says, sitting next to me, and turning on the television, none of us really pay attention to it. I don’t have to look at my brother to know his eyes are also glued to the window right beside the screen, the one that gives us a front row seat to the house in front. 
“They moved in last year,” I tell him, taking the beer from his grip to steal a sip.
“You know them?” He asks me, a curious look in his eyes. I know almost everyone. I like to watch people. Listen when they think I’m not paying attention. I happened to learn at a very young age, that information is the real currency of the world. It can get you pretty much anywhere you want to go if you know how to use it correctly.
“Just two of them.” I tell him, giving his beer back. “The third one is probably a freshman. I’d never seen her around here before.” 
“I hadn’t seen any of them around here before.” 
“Nesta’s pre-law,” I begin to explain. “Has every loser in campus either shitting their pants on her presence or trying to get into her pants.” 
“That’s Cassian’s?” Rhys asks, as if it needs confirmation. 
“Yup,” I nod. “And Elain… No idea what her major is. She’s pretty reserved, keeps to herself, doesn’t go out much.” I shrug, pretending she doesn’t pique my interest in the slightest, which couldn’t be further from the truth. “I took a class with her last year, I’m guessing she’s maybe an art major.” 
Rhys takes a big gulp from his beer. “That leaves us the third sister.” 
“Right, the one with the boyfriend.” 
“Love it that you keep reminding me,” Rhys shoots me a not so friendly glare. 
“There’s a thousand girls on campus that would pretty much give up their first born to sleep with you, Rhys,” I remind him. “No need to want one that’s unavailable.”  
“I happen to like challenges.” His shoulders go tense when the door of the house in front of ours opens, and the girl whose name we don’t know yet walks out, some cash on her hand. There’s a bike in the street, some skinny guy pulling handing her two boxes of pizza. 
She thanks him with a wide smile, and Rhys takes a long gulp from his beer. 
“Yeah, but you’re a sore loser.” 
He smiles wickedly at me. “Which only means I have to make sure I don’t lose.” 
I roll my eyes, and he simply lets out a dark chuckle. I’m not joking when I say any of us could get literally any girl on campus we wanted. They’re practically drooling at our feet, mostly after games, and the quota of girls drastically increases if we win it. But, after a couple years playing for the Night Beasts, and getting used to the attention, it has only made it… boring. Predictable. 
Too easy. 
Rhysand grabs the keys of his pick-up truck that were laying on top of the fridge and hands me his half empty beer bottle.
“Where are you going?” 
“To buy the best fucking wine I can get my hands on.” 
He leaves before I can stop him, and I’m left on my own in the big, dark first floor of the house, surrounded by nothing but shadows, peeking trough the window like a complete stalker, at the way they’re sitting in the kitchen table, eating pizza and laughing. My eyes glued to one of the sisters in particular, her soft smiles, the curve of her neck, her lips wrapping around the straw of her drink, putting such filthy images in my head I force myself to look away, adjust the bulge on my pants and go take a cold shower. 
Fuck. 
It’s going to be a long year. 
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in honor of time magazine softlaunching elriel i decided to post another chapter! I actually never thought people would read it so i'm glad you guys are liking it<333
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🌻kai anderson boyfriend headcanons 🌻
kai anderson x hippie!reader
a/n: following up from my moodboard here 🧡💛
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🧡 definitely feeds into his cult delusions tbh (you know with the whole manson family thing going on)
💛 which isn't the case but let's probably not say that to kai. if he ever asks, yes, that was what you were going for lmao
🧡 kai secretly loves your style, it's so different from his. he loves the cliche opposites attract scenario and that's a hill i will die on thank you very much
💛 wears your bracelets under his clothes so that he always has a part of you with him - not like he'd ever show it to the cult though let's be real
🧡 if he's feeling particularly generous, which is probably when he wants something from you, he will gift you with a bracelet or a necklace or something along those lines - he says it adds to your 'aesthetic'
💛 kai absolutely loves how free spirited you are - you follow your own rules and live every day like your last
🧡 this is until you ignore something he tells you to do and then he doesn't like it at all lmao, man is one contradictory bitch
💛 kai lives for getting high with you - he'd never admit it but late nights in his basement with you is his favourite thing
🧡 probably slips things into your drinks every now and then...
💛 but if you catch him, no you didn't
🧡 if your hair is long enough to braid, kai will be the first one to volunteer to do it for you. he's surprisingly really good at it and it helps relax him after a stressful meeting
💛 would probably manipulate you into joining his 'cause' because it's kai, so let's not kid ourselves
🧡 he's convinced if you had children they would grow up with the best parents ever (he has a god complex, okay? okay)
💛 like think about it, cult leader father and a hippie mother? Best combo in my opinion
🧡 but realistically it's like the 60s all over again lmao
💛 will constantly play with the rings on your hands - most of the time he doesn't even know he's doing it tbh
🧡 honestly, i think kai just loves your hands in general. for him they're feminine and delicate
💛 they look even better wrapped around his throat... okay swiftly moving on...
🧡 this never fails to make you smile, you always see the side of kai that nobody else does which is something you're thankful for
💛 as much of an ass kai is, he would never dream of hurting you. at most, a little silver tongue manipulation here and there but that's about it (and the fact he knows you'd absolutely deck him)
🧡 winter adores you - she thinks you're the best thing that has ever happened to kai, even reminding her what he was like before the cult
💛 if anyone, anyone, dare looks at you strangely for the way you dress, let's just say you'll probably never hear from them again after kai hears about it
🧡 possessive level 100/10 - you're his and he's yours
💛 now this is just an assumption so take it as you will, but i imagine you're probably not opposed to joining the cult (as a hippie i'm allowed to say this okay?)
🧡 surprisingly, kai actually really enjoys your music tastes and you will even find him humming along at random moments of the day
💛 never mention that you caught him though, it would seriously damage his ego
🧡 if you're ill, he'd probably bring you herbal teas to help soothe you
💛 as much of an asshole he is, he knows exactly what you like and remembers the little details
🧡 "i remembered that you only drink chamomile after 8pm because it's easier on your stomach" type details 🥹
💛 the nicknames are endless - his favourites are definitely 'hummingbird' and 'dollface' but will probably call you 'moon child' as a joke (though we know he's probably dead serious)
🧡 along with other nicknames if you get me but some people just aren't ready for that convo yet lmao
💛 yeah fuck it, we're going there - sex would be amazing okay
🧡 half of your favourite songs you can't listen to without blushing anymore because kai deadass made a hippie playlist for you based on those songs
💛 "only the best for the messiah, dollface"
🧡 kai loves when you keep your skirts on, it's a major turn on for him - the whole process of bunching them up makes him feel some sort of way
💛 overall, morality wise -5/10, but as a boyfriend probably a solid 5/10
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Overwatch Women Relationship/ General Headcannons:
These are very specific, but I find them cute.
This is super long, because it’s All. Of. Them. I was going to break them up, but then I forgot, and rolled with it.
No warnings, all sfw.
Ashe
Is very much allergic to pollen.
With that being said she has the loudest damn sneeze
Cannot cook to save her life but makes really good concoctions of stoner type food. That and she is a dip girl. Every woman from the south knows one good dip they can make and it’s been imbued in us since birth. No one else at the party has the same dip either, wonderful how it works really
Widow
Has vintage luggage she uses for long term missions
Sleeps on her back with her arms folded like she is dead just to freak you out.
Hates pressure cookers
D.va
Is really good at Pilates (she took it up instead of physical therapy after her injuries in the cinematic)
Can fold gum wrapper swans
Disassembles her blaster when she is bored just to put it back together again (she times it and keeps the times in a golf notepad)
Junker Queen
Really good at electrical engineering but has only seen YouTube lectures about it on a shitty rebuilt mac
Listens to nickelback unironically
Prefers fruity drinks, but that’s the closest you will get her to eating a god damn fruit
Kiriko
Can and will sit you down to explain the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy
Is a Jojo’s fan. Thinks it’s under appreciated.
Cannot tell you the difference between jams, jellies and preserves.
Moira
Hates chain steakhouses (outback, Texas Roadhouse, ect) Loathes the atmosphere.
Has favorite poisonous plants
Is better than you at Mario kart
Mercy
Is not good at social cues to the point she will put on the complete wrong music for a situation (think Disco Inferno while she is trying to Rez a burn victim levels of bad taste)
“Does not like coffee” but if you make it she will drink from yours
Spins her blaster when she puts it back in its holster
Pharah
Likes shows like “How I Met Your Mother” and “Rules of Engagement”
Wakes you up in the middle of the night to go with her to the dingiest convenience store to acquire the best sandwich of your life
Hates coleslaw
Brigitte
Doesn’t count her reps, only times them with specific tools (a song, a show, a podcast)
Has helped her father defy the Geneva Conventions
Thinks The Grand Canyon is made up (Torb told her as a joke when she was little and has believed it since)
Zarya
Has been to the secret Russian lab where they keep stem cells of every known disease to exist. (It’s a real thing, I think don’t quote me-)
Brings back small rocks from places she goes
Doesn’t like birds
Mei
Snow ball has a built in dance party mode specifically for when she is sad.
Doesn’t like using Amazon
Knows all of “Yakko’s World” and sings it to herself
Tracer
Tries to tip well but doesn’t know the math so she leaves way more than is needed
Has tried to convince Winston to give her a laser beam inside of the accelerator
Wears Velcro for convenience
Ana
When she is able to settle down and stop being on the move, she catches up with reality shows and calls you to tell you about them
Puts little stickers on her little healing vials to make them look friendlier… not that anyone is gonna notice
Doesn’t like to eat breakfast. Just has tea in the morning.
Symettra
Has special pads on her visor because she doesn’t like the way it sits on her face
There is a disco mode in her turrets that she will never tell a soul about
She commits to bits to get you out of trouble without even knowing the full scope of the situation.
Sombra
Sweater thief, but in the worst possible times. If she forgets hers on a mission, she takes yours and dips
Likes those little strawberry grandma candies
As good of a hacker she is, she is absolutely terrible at 1v1 combat games. Mortal Kombat, Smash, Jump Force, you name it. She isn’t winning.
Sojourn
Phone is set to military hours. You never ask her for the time
Does not nap
Makes jokes about her legs. When you compliment her she knocks on the metal and goes “Quads of steel”. She thinks it’s the funniest bit in the world
*bonus* she may be rough around the edges but she is the loudest laugher at a comedy show
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nena-96 · 3 months
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@jilymicro-oops
March- Prompt 1: Troubled
I had fun writing this and let the battle between houses begin! Courtesy of a Gryffindor/Slytherin? Also thanks @charmsandtealeaves for making the Gryffindor Common room on the discord a beautiful banner it’s absolutely gorgeous…..ooops I didn’t mean to say this, don’t want the other houses to get jealous 😉
Troubled <- link to ao3. Let me know what you think! (Original character KC)
Lily was trying her best to enjoy the delicious kidney pie that was on her plate. However, no matter how many times she gets a forkful and takes a nice bite of the warm meal. She doesn’t taste any of the flavors, not even when she lifts up her goblet and takes a generous sip of her favorite drink (besides firewhiskey of course).
No, instead of tasting the soothing flavors of pumpkin, she had an awful bitter taste in her mouth. She refused to acknowledge why her meal wasn’t as delicious as it was before, except now her patience is reaching a breaking point.
Honestly, everything was fine a few minutes ago, that was until an aggravating blonde waltzed her way and sat besides that toerag named James Fleamont Potter.
It’s pathetic, if you ask her. Truly, a shame, since when did Potter enjoy the company of a Slytherin? Much less, with a blonde who doesn’t care about the no PDA policy at Hogwarts. Then again, Potter was never one for the rules. Yet, didn’t he know there were first years also trying to enjoy their dinner? Why couldn’t he think about her-uhm think about the children.
Yes, Potter should think about the children. They shouldn’t see the way that the blonde girl sitting practically on his lap was kissing James on the cheek. Nor the way, that girl was trying to comb back James’s messy hair, while he was obviously trying to eat.
Honestly, didn’t she have a clue that James had a habit of not giving a damn about how his hair looked? Especially when it’s just going to get messier when he goes for a midnight fly around the Quidditch pitch. Not….not that she was keeping tabs on him at all, she just so happened to see him once a few nights ago.
She wasn’t jealous! Just so you know.
It was just annoying seeing that girl who doesn’t even know her own boyfriend the way that she does. Which is saying a lot because she wasn’t friends with Potter, they were only partners for a project in McGonagall’s class. Just….partners nothing more.
“Oh, James, why don’t we go somewhere else, I’m sure you can sneak me into your common room,” Lily heard the blonde say, momentarily breaking her away from her thoughts. Lily snuck a glance, not to them, mind you. See only wanted to check the hour glasses for the houses of Hogwarts.
Yes, that's it. Lily was only trying to see if any points had gotten deducted from Slytherin by the piss poor show of the way that blonde was trying to persuade a Gryffindor boy to break rules. Honestly, wasn’t there enough Slytherin boys that the blonde girl could sink her manicured nails into. Why did she have to choose her Potter?
Shit.
She didn’t mean to say her Potter, bloody hell, don’t look at me like that! Shouldn’t you be disgusted by the whole fraternizing with the enemy? It’s ridicu-
“Uh, KC I don’t know if we should…McGonagall gave us a lot of work. Besides, uh- I had Quidditch practice and I need to rest.” Lily heard James answer. Which was strange since he never has practice on Friday’s because he tends to be with his boys by the fireplace in the common room.
Huh, interesting, why wouldn’t James want to sneak his girlfriend…you know what she doesn’t bloody care. It’s not her business, as a matter of fact there wasn’t a point in staying in the Great Hall, when her meal was ruined by the unlikely couple who seem to be troubled with-
“Oi, Evans. You alright over there? You look a little troubled, what’s wrong .….not going to take away house points are you?” Sirius chuckled from across the table. That git, why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut, now Potter and his girlfriend are staring at her. Well, then again at least they weren’t grabbing at one another, or worse trying to suck each other's face off.
“Come on, Evans, remember we’re in the same house-” James had started to say with his annoyingly deep voice that obviously did not send a jolt of heat to her cheeks.
“Oh, don’t worry I won’t. Then again, I never met a Gryffindor who would drop their dignity and date a Slytherin,” Lily replied, only to quickly realize that she didn’t mean to say that out loud. She watched as they all stared at her, with their mouths open wide. The entire Great Hall goes deathly quiet, nobody spoke for a few minutes. Lily felt her face burn up, yet she raised her chin and didn’t let her gaze fall from a pair of infuriating hazel eyes.
“Excuse you! What do you mean by that, it’s not James’s fault he found a girl who actually cares about him.” Lily hears the Slytherin girl shriek besides the boy who was currently holding her gaze, she noticed the way his eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Clearing her throat, Lily broke her gaze from the insufferable git and turned to the blonde. “I’m very sorry KC, but I wasn’t talking about you-”
“That’s exactly what I thought-”
“-because you would need to have dignity in order to be able to drop it. That being said, I recommend you go looking for yours. Like the Muggles call it, why don’t you go on a little scavenger hunt, hopefully it doesn’t take you too long to find your dignity.” Lily replied coolly before rising up from the bench and walking away from the Gryffindor table and soon left the Hall.
Lily didn’t care that everyone was left in shock, nor the way she felt his hazel eyes on her the entire time she was making her way out. Not even the fact that ten points were added to Gryffindor. The only thing she cared about was seeing the look of rage on KC’s face, call it chaos or even spite. Call it what you want, because sooner rather than later she’ll know what’s coming to her.
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angelhwajoong · 4 months
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Title: Rule No. 1
Chapter 4
Back at home, Hongjoong hugged Seonghwa close and spun him around, which looked slightly funny because Seonghwa was a little taller and bigger in build. The vampire laughed happily and placed a gentle kiss on his boyfriend's lips as he was set down again. "My little angel is so strong - look, what you did to me. Not only one baby but two! One is already a miracle because you're not a vampire but two?!"
"Well." Hongjoong looked very proud of himself. He sneakily slipped his hands under Seonghwa's shirt and caressed the naked skin while kissing his lips multiple times. "Is it weird to say that you'll be super sexy with a baby bump?"
"Nah, I like it." Seonghwa grinned against the other's lips and cupped his face gently to initiate a proper kiss. He pressed himself closer to the archangel, sensing his lust. Seonghwa moved his lips along the other's jaw and removed the scarf to lick over the fading bite marks. "Can I?"
Hongjoong nodded, but shoved Seonghwa towards his bedroom first. He laid down and pulled Seonghwa on top of him, baring his neck to him. The vampire shook his head and undressed himself slowly as he hovered over Hongjoong, only wearing his boxers by then. The other's shirt followed before he finally leaned down and pierced the skin with his sharp canine teeth. While doing so, he intentionally pressed his groin against Hongjoong's and drew a mewl from the other.
Hongjoong ran his hands over Seonghwa's sides and rolled his hips. His eyes were closed as he tried to focus on each emotion that was running through his body and mind. "Don't tease so much."
The vampire hummed, enjoying his boyfriend's blood that stilled his hunger. He ran one hand over his chest, brushing one of his nipples as he went further down and patted his belly. He chuckled against the skin, imagining something funny before actually travelling his hand further down to massage Hongjoong's crotch. Seonghwa didn't drink much blood, pulling his fangs out again and kissing the bite marks before licking over his lips. "You taste so good."
Seonghwa stood up just for a moment to take off Hongjoong's pants and boxers as well as his own. The archangel bit his lower lip as he watched his vampire do so, his eyes following every move. Seonghwa went back to hover over his boyfriend and leaned down to kiss his lips hungrily. He reached his hand down to pump the other's cock to life which didn't take much. "Wanna ride you, babe."
"Do whatever you want, love. But if you're tired, let me take over." Hongjoong said between kisses and moaned softly, his cock hardening quickly. Seonghwa hadn't taken too much blood so he wasn't going to be as tired as usual. The vampire reached for the lube in his nightstand next to the bed and broke the kiss to coat Hongjoong's erection generously. Hongjoong hissed softly as it was a little cold.
"Sorry, forgot to warm it up a bit." Seonghwa grinned sheepishly.
"Why is it even cold?" Seonghwa shrugged and looked at the bottle, laughing as he read the description. "I'm sorry, Joong. This has a cooling effect."
"That explains why it doesn't stop. Hurry up~" He complained and took the bottle to set it aside. But he could never be really angry with his boyfriend. He held his base and sat up a little for Seonghwa to adjust himself above him comfortably. He held the base of his cock as the vampire slowly sat down on it.
"Can't remember buying it." Seonghwa pouted and took a deep breath as the other's erection stretched him. He should have prepared himself first. But it was bearable if he did it slowly and carefully. He settled down completely and hummed as he stayed like this for a minute or two. Hongjoong did not complain at all, he always gave Seonghwa as much time as he needed - okay that was not entirely true, sometimes he could hardly wait to pound this juicy ass. He caressed his sides and looked at him lovingly. This beautiful vampire on top of him was going to make him two gifts. Two beautiful mini versions of themselves. Then Seonghwa started to move slowly and supported himself with his hands on Hongjoong's shoulders while his boyfriend supported him by holding his hips.
They didn't talk, only shared loving gazes while Seonghwa moved up and down. It didn't need words. But Hongjoong's expression changed and turned worried as he saw tears spill on Seonghwa's face. The vampire quickly shook his head and wiped his tears. "I'm just so happy I could burst."
Hingjoong pulled Seonghwa back into a kiss and cupped his face, caressing his cheeks gently with his thumb. He snapped his hips in reflex, making Seonghwa mewl in surprise. He was getting closer and Seonghwa's slow movements felt like torture but he also didn't want to rush or urge him in this emotional moment. One of his hands snaked down to the vampire's erection and stroked it just as slowly. Seonghwa whined into the kiss but got the hint and sped up his movements a little. It didn't take much for them to reach their orgasm, their emotions making them more sensitive.
Spent and happy, Seonghwa let himself fall next to Hongjoong and cuddled it his side when he heard his phone ring. With a small groan he got up and fished it out of his pants, going back to cuddle his boyfriend as he picked the call up. "Minho?"
Hoongjoong looked at him and Seonghwa put Minho on speaker. They could hear Felix in the back who had seemingly urged him to call. "Lixie, I have him on the phone now, be quiet. Lix is worried because you guys didn't call yet. Everything alright? You sound out of breath, Hwa."
The vampire blushed and cleared his throat, them tried to calm his breathing. "Sorry, we just got back from the hospital. Actually we have good news. Wanna come over?"
"Actually, we are already in front of your apartment. Lix couldn't wait. We are coming up then." Minho hung up and Seonghwa widened his eyes, looking at Hongjoong who was just as alarmed.
"Oh my god, we can't open the door like this." The vampire panicked and jumped up, forgetting about controlling his butt as Hongjoong's seeds ran down his leg. The archangel reach into the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a set of tissues. He wiped himself and then got up to help Seonghwa.
"That has to make do. Get dressed and brush your hair, babe." He discarded the tissues and quickly changed into his clothes as well. Seonghwa hummed and slipped into his clothes hastily while Hongjoong went to answer the door. He took his brush and quickly went through his messy hair. But honestly, his after-sex look was still sexy.
"Oh my god, did we interrupt you guys?!" Oh god, they had forgotten about the couple's sensitive noses. Being wolf shapeshifters gave them quite a few enhances senses. More than vampires which Seonghwa always had been jealous of. He joined Hongjoong's side in a flash and hugged his arm, a faint blush covering his cheeks as he couldn't lie to wolves.
"So what happened at the hospital that you had some steamy sex afterwards?" Minho asked straightforward as the couple stepped inside, took off their shoes and followed them to the living room.
"Take a seat first." Seonghwa told them and sat in Hongjoong's lap as his couch wasn't big enough for four people. He watched Felix and Minho sit down. Felix was frowning at them, expecting the answer soon. He was probably not amused that Seonghwa had worried them that much. Minho wrapped his arm around his boyfriend to calm him down.
Seonghwa beamed and reached for Hongjoong's hands to pit them around his waist. "So I wasn't feeling well recently, couldn't even eat, only from Joongie. So we went to a doctor that he knows. And-" he took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant!"
Felix's eyes widened and he jumped up to hug Seonghwa tightly "oh my god, that's amazing news!!! That's even possible?? Congrats, you two! Guess what? We are expecting, too! That's what we wanted to talk about this evening."
Felix laughed happily and Seonghwa gasped, hugging his friend back tightly. "What?! You gotta be kidding me! We are pregnant together?!" He got up from Hongjoong's lap to do a happy dance with Felix. While they were busy with each other, Minho and Hongjoong just gave each other proud looks and a handshake.
"But seriously, how is that possible? I thought interracial pregnancies don't work for vampires?" Felix pulled Seonghwa next to himself on the couch as he sat back down and urged Minho off the couch who just shook his head in amusement. He sat on the floor over where Hongjoong sat and let their wifeys chat.
"We don't really know ourselves but Joongie didn't only make me pregnant, Lixie. He gave me twins!" Seonghwa exclaimed in a loud whisper, still shocked and not really processing that they were going to have twins. Felix gasped and shook his head in disbelief.
"Damn, now I totally get why you guys couldn't wait to have sex right after getting back. He knocked you up well, hyung. We are going to have one, but that's enough first. I don't trust Minho yet. I'm sure he will teach the kid a lot of nonsense." Felix whispered the last part with a grin. Seonghwa chuckled, looking at their men to see whether they listened but they were busy with each other. Hongjoong had joined Minho on the floor and they were obviously having fun.
"Seriously, Lixie, this is still so surreal. But I saw it! He showed us two little strawberries on the ultrasound. Oh wait a second." Seonghwa fished his phone out of his pants because it was ringing. He turned pale as he saw the caller id. His mother- he couldn't tell his parents. All his excitement was gone as he picked up the call.
"Hi mom... yes, everything is good. I'm with my friends right now... you want to visit? When?" The other's were quiet and Hongjoong looked worriedly at his boyfriend. He knew that Seonghwa's parents were quite old-fashioned, wanted him to get married to a vampire girl. But here he was, loving a man and even an archangel at that. Though, Hongjoong's side wasn't much different, if his parents knew or anyone of the higher-ups he'd be dead. Rule No. 1: don't fall in love with an earthling. If anyone knew it wasn't only an earthling but a vampire, he didn't want to find out what would happen.
"In 3 months? Then why are you calling now? ... you want me to start working at dad's company?! Mom, why won't you let me go to university instead? I know nothing about business." Seonghwa scrunched his face in annoyance. His parents had never ask him to work at their company. He was doing some model jobs here and there and getting some pocket money from his parents, living a quite humble way even though he could be a spoiled brat. "Yes mom ... bye."
After hanging up, Seonghwa exhaled a breath he didn't know he'd held for so long. He let out a frustrated groan and crawled down on the floor to get a hug from Hongjoong. "I'm done for, guys. Spend one of my last days with me."
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seth-shitposts · 6 months
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Defectors AU Bits - Alcohol
Morad & Tseebo: *drinking alcohol and laughing and becoming very animated as they talk*
Ezra(11), to Kallus: what are they drinking?
Kallus: Alcohol.
Ezra: what's that?
Kallus: it taste like paint thinner and stops you from thinking clearly. It also affects your sense of stability. *grabs the back of Tseebo's shirt, pulling him toward him instead of letting him slide off the counter* and can very easily make you lose your balance. And if you drink too much, it can make you very sick.
Ezra: then why are they drinking it??? Why are they laughing????
Kallus: *contently giving stability to Tseebo, who is very comfortable where hes at as he continues to joke with Morad* it's like candy for adults. If you mix it with specific drinks, it tastes better. As long as you don't drink more than a few drinks, you'll probably be fine. But not until you're twenty. At least.
Ezra: why? Why can't I drink the candy?
Kallus: because it's not candy. I said it's *like* candy. Only adults can drink it, and even then there are some adults that still shouldn't be allowed to drink it because they can't do so responsibly. And it can damage your development. It's a rule that changes a little bit depending on where in the galaxy you are, and even on some planets it will depend on what area you're in, but the general rule of thumb is you have to be at least 20 or 21 to start drinking. If you start now, it will damage you.
Ezra: will I stay small?????
Kallus: honestly? Maybe. I don't know everything about alcohol so I'm not certain one way or the other on it stunting your growth further, but it's definitely possible.
Ezra: .... you said the rules vary from place to place. What's the rule for lothal?
Kallus: 18.
Ezra: can I start at 18???
Kallus: if you're asking me, my answer is no. But ultimately, that will be up to your parents. They may let you start then.
Ezra: oh... okay.... :(
Kallus: if you're still leaving it up to me, you can try your first drink at 18. You just can't start having it in any amount of frequency until 20.
Ezra: really? :D
Kallus, grinning softly: Yes. But only if you follow the rules of alcohol. It has a lot more rules than candy. I can go over all of them with you so you'll know how to drink safely and responsibly.
Ezra: can you tell them to me now???
Kallus: sure. Never too early to start learning safety.
-----
Ezra, 16, with the crew as everyone is celebrating a victory: hey Kanan, can you pour me a soda instead?
Kanan, pausing entirely because he though Ezra was surely going to start badgering about alcohol: Yeah...
Kanan, who still can't let it go because that seems very random to him: why?
Ezra: because I want some????
Kanan: yea, yeah, nothing wrong with that either! I'm just... confused. I thought... you know what never-
Ezra: oh! Thats because I had promised someone I, uh, wouldn't. Not until I'm 18...
Kanan, giving Ezra’s shoulder a bump: they sound like a very responsible person and they're right. *is giving Ezra the 'dad: I'm proud of you eyes'*
Ezra, rolling his own but still smiling despite himself: yeah, they are... *happily clinks his cup to Kanan’s glass*
-----
Ezra, still 17 but when Kallus has joined the rebellion, talking to Rex and Zeb, finding it funny to make them laugh while they're three sheets to the wind, shaking a tube of very small, round chocolates: wanna watxh me take a shot?
Kallus, hearing Ezra from across the room room and his Older Sibling Reflex tripping: Ezra Bridg-
Ezra: *already taking the shot of candy and turning to face Kallus as he does*
Kallus, not knowing whether to laugh or face palm: *flatly* Honestly, what was I expecting?
Ezra, grinning as he pokes at Kallus: what? You thought when I became a rebel that I threw everything you told me out the window and became a miscreant?
Kallus: obviously so. *affectionely* Rebel scum.
Ezra, laughing as he playfully wrestles with Kallus
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cutiedwaekki · 1 month
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fairytail
Tumblr media
—i'm in love with a fairytail
Changbin centric
summary : when the slightly too greedy fairy lets his greed take over
contain : fairy AU ; rapid weight gain ; magic weight gain ; mention of immobility
A/n : because im still not over from fairy changbin in their fanmeeting 🥹😭
( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆
Once upon a time in the enchanted forest, there lived a little fairy named Changbin.
The fairy was born of a union between a fairy and an ogre who, despite defying the rules of the impossible, loved each other so much that they gave birth to Changbin, a fairy who on the outside seemed quite innocent. But unlike other fairies, Changbin had an insatiable appetite, partly due to his ogre side.
He feasted on all nature's delicious treats: juicy berries, sweet flower nectar and even the most delicate mushrooms. But his guilty pleasure was the magical sweets made by the local elves.
Fortunately for him, he had good genes, although years of gluttony were evident in his plump cheeks and generous hips. But his personality was so energetic and brilliant that he was never mocked, and everyone loved Changbin.
You want to make Changbin happy? Give him some strawberries!
Want to thank him for the favor he did you by guiding the little dwaekki to their lair? Give him rose cookies
Would you like to give him a gift to congratulate him on his wedding with the earth elf Seungmin? A simple layer cake will do.
But that's how it was, everyone knew Changbin as the greedy fairy who refused nothing.
( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆
In the enchanted glade, Changbin was on his way to the village of the water fairies, where he had spent the day with his friend Yeonjun, chatting about the good old days in front of a heap of food, for if there was one thing that united these two fairies, it was their voracious appetites.
But on the way back, Changbin was attracted by a scent, an unfamiliar yet pungent and comforting smell. As he followed it, he came upon a large fruit tree.
He gazed in admiration at this species of beech he'd never heard of before. The apples were so big, looked so juicy and were an impressive golden color.
Changbin stood in front of the majestic fruit tree, his eyes shining with excitement at the sight of the golden apples. Each fruit seemed to radiate an enchanting aura, a temptation he couldn't resist. He reached out and grabbed the first apple, lifting it carefully before bringing it to his lips.
He was right, they were juicy, it was like drinking apple juice in a single bite, it was divine, he felt as if he'd reached ataraxia, nothing else could disturb him at that moment, nothing.
At least... until he noticed that he'd finished eating the apple. There were no seeds, he'd eaten the whole thing, leaving nothing.He hesitated to continue on his way, but he still wanted that taste in his mouth, he wanted to taste his golden apples again and again.
—Minnie always tells me I should eat more fruit, so he won't mind if I eat some more he said to himself as he picked more and ate them with equal pleasure.
After the second, it took a third, then a fourth, and so on in a never-ending cycle.
But as he continued to eat, he began to feel a weight in his stomach. At first it was just a feeling of fullness, but soon it turned into an oppressive heaviness. He ignored his body's warning signals, determined to satisfy his insatiable greed. The apples seemed to multiply, as if the tree itself was responding to his voracious desire.
Changbin couldn't stop. He began to gobble apples at a frenetic pace, his movements becoming more and more desperate as he sought to appease the insatiable hunger that consumed him. With each mouthful, he felt his stomach stretch a little further, his clothes become tighter and tighter around his waist.
But he couldn't stop. He needed more, always more, as if food had become his only reason for being.As he continued to eat, he began to feel a weight in his stomach. At first it was just a feeling of fullness, but soon it turned into an oppressive heaviness. He ignored his body's warning signals, determined to satisfy his insatiable appetite.
Suddenly, he felt a strange numbness invade his body. His limbs felt heavy, his movements clumsy. He tried to stand up, to fly away as he had done in the past, but his body refused to respond. It was as if he were rooted to the ground, trapped in his own bloated body.
Unbeknownst to him, the golden apples were enchanted. As he ate them, Changbin began to feel his body swell. His body become huge, his fairy wings were increasingly covered with fat. But he couldn't stop, too obsessed by the divine taste of magic apples.
But then , Changbin watched in horror as his reflection appeared in a nearby puddle. His round but delicate face had become round and puffy , he could even notice et second lr even a third chin with cheeks almost grotesquely swollen. His belly protruded from his clothes, a flabby mass of flesh that seemed to have taken possession of his body.
—N-no... it can't be he said, frightened, as he touched his belly, which continued to swell until his belt broke and the button on his pants popped off, ricocheting off the river water.He tried to fasten his pants but couldn't, his belly becoming too big. Then he heard a tearing noise. His thighs had also thickened until they were no longer contained in his pants, just like his ass that just grew bigger until he can't carry all of it and just fall down. Hopefully with those big butt he didn't get hurt.
—Well ... that could be worse .. right ? he thought before the buttons of his shirt popped one by one revealing his massive stomach as well as the opening of his chest hanging heavily on his body
Soon, Changbin had grown so big that he could no longer fly. He tried to flap his wings, but his swollen body stubbornly stayed on the ground. He could no longer fly; his wings couldn't support the weight of his body. As Changbin desperately tried to flap his wings, he cried out for help.
( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆
Fortunately, his fairy friends Jisung and Felix, who happened to be picking enchanted berries at the same time, came along, attracted by their friend's cries of distress.
They stopped dead in their tracks as they saw the scene unfolding before them: Changbin, once a buff with a slight pudge, now entangled in his own corpulence, trying in vain to fly away in a body far too big for it.
—Changbin, what did happen to you ?exclaimed Jisung, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Felix approached, his face flushed with concern. You can't fly? But why?
Changbin bowed his head in shame. I don't know... I just can't get off the ground.
Jisung and Felix exchanged a look full of concern. "Can you ... get up and walk ?" Ask again Felix.
Changbin blushed in shame, looking down at his stomach while playing with his navel, it was so deep he could stick his entire middle finger in there. he immediately added No... I don't think so
Is it because of... your weight gain? asked Jisung , hesitant to broach the delicate subject.
Changbin nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. Yes, it's because of that. I got too fat to fly.
Jisung laid a comforting hand on Changbin's shoulder. You should have listened to us, my friend. We warned you about the dangers of eating too much. These apples are the apples of passion, only the dwaekkis can eat them without fear because the enzymes in their body can assimilate the side effects without problems. But a fairy... we're is intolerant to these apples, it just makes us blowing up... Felix nodded.
—But now we have to find a way to help you.
Changbin nodded in shame.
( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆
For two hours his friends had tried everything to get him to stand up, but he was just too fat.
They even had to call on Seungmin, his fiancé, a very powerful elf who could move the earth like a treadmill, bringing Changbin to him without him having to make a single move.
It was then that Seungmin faced the new body of his fiancé.
Felix had told him he'd become fat, but he hadn't expected it. HE WAS IMMOBILE, he could hardly move!
And his face lit up when he saw Changbin. Instead of showing displeasure or disappointment, he approached Changbin and embraced him tenderly.
—Oh my love, it must have been a long day for you, so I'm going to make you a hibiscus infusion, your favorite! With some cookies of course i know you can't drink your tea without them he said, kissing the oldest's forehead as he helped him to get along to their house, which as they talked grew larger, surely a Seungmin spell to make the house spacious enough for his fiancé's new body.
Changbin looked up, touched by Seungmin's comforting words. Really? You don't think I'm... ridiculous?
—Why should I? I've always loved your round cheeks, but now I've got more of you to love he added, pecking his cheek before pebbling happily back into the house.
They say that greed is a villainous flaw, but it's what makes Seo Changbin, the fairy, his greatest asset.
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