#but also once again if i'm wrong why do i keep winning

[lihhelsing]

steddie | 1.6k | mature | angst

cw: mentions of parental abuse (verbal)

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 21

Prompt: Please

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The second Eddie steps into the kitchen, he knows something is wrong. 

Steve always says he doesn't mind doing the dishes and Eddie has given up on arguing with him about it long ago.

He watches as his boyfriend stands in front of the sink. On any day, he would find Steve whistling to some pop song, swaying his hips to whatever rhythm he has in his head as he soaps up their dishes. 

He's usually happy when he does it. Tells Eddie it always helps. And Eddie can't quite put his finger on what's wrong but he's definitely not happy. 

Eddie walks up to him slowly, and once he's a little closer he can see Steve's shoulders shaking. It's barely there and Eddie is unsure what to do, but when he reaches his hand and touches Steve, he knows that's the wrong choice.

Steve recoils, dropping whatever he was holding in his hand with a loud noise inside the sink and Eddie pulls back.

He's not sure what's happening, but he doesn't like it one bit. 

"Hey, hey. Steve. Look at me. What's wrong baby? 

Steve turns to him and his face is red and wet from the tears spilling down. Eddie feels his inside twisting, and his mind goes straight to Dustin and the kids. 

Something happened to them, and somehow Steve knows it and-

"P-please," Steve says, so fucking small. "Please, don't be mad."

Eddie frowns, his brain scrambling to catch up. 

"Why would I be mad?" 

At first, it seems like Steve's not going to say anything but then he moves to the side and Eddie sees the sink. 

The sink is a mess. And Steve is usually a neat guy so it takes Eddie one second to adjust. And then, he sees the blood.

It's not a lot of blood, but it's definitely blood. Eddie tries not to freak out because he knows it'll only make it worse

"What happened, sweetheart?" Usually, Steve loves when Eddie uses pet names, but today? Today he almost folds in on himself.

"I broke a-a mug," Steve says and Eddie has to hold himself together, afraid of hurting his feelings with the tiniest reaction.

"That's... ok," Eddie says, hoping that's the right answer. Steve doesn't relax but he also doesn't get worse, so he counts that as a win.

"No, Eddie. I broke a mug. And it's your favorite," Steve says and Eddie nods softly.

"Is it the Garfield one?" Eddie asks and Steve's eyes widen. He nods, doesn't meet his eyes. 

Eddie actually dislikes that mug. It was his father's and he felt obliged to keep it, but he kept hoping it would break. Nothing against Garfield, but he would much rather not have anything to remember his father by. 

"Well," Eddie looks at the sink, "I'll clean it. And you can go sit in the living room and I'll be there in a second to patch you up." 

Steve doesn't move. He just shakes his head and Eddie is a little lost. Maybe his hand is hurting so he tries to grab it but Steve flinches, back hitting the sink and making a pan slide down. 

"Baby, what... what is it?" Eddie asks. He's at a loss here and has no idea what to do. If nothing works, he'll have to call Robin because Steve is clearly about to have a breakdown.

"You're mad," Steve says. And... no. Eddie's not mad. Why would he be mad over a dumb mug? Even if it was his favorite, Eddie wouldn’t be made. Accidents happen and he’s honestly more worried that Steve is hurt than anything else.

"I'm not, Stevie,” he tries to sound sincere, but it’s like Steve has checked out of their conversation. Like he’s lost inside his own head.

"I broke your favorite mug. I made a... a mess. But I'm gonna clean it up." 

Eddie shakes his head. "You'll do no such thing. You're gonna go to the living room and you're gonna let me clean it. And then you’re going to wait for me because I need to take a look at your hand, need to make sure it’s just a superficial cut."

Eddie moves again and Steve freezes. 

"No! I'm gonna clean it," he says and Eddie is starting to get tired. He wants to fix it, he wants to help Steve, but he’s not sure how. 

There’s a little voice inside his head that tells him this is not about this particular mug on this particular day. Eddie likes to think he’s a nice boyfriend. Treats Steve well. Because he does. Never did anything to make Steve think he would be mad over a broken mug and definitely wouldn’t be mad about any mess. 

Everyone knows Steve is the one putting up with Eddie’s messy ass. 

Then, like a lightning bulb, something clicks, and Eddie decides to try something. 

"Steve," he says, voice stern, and Steve looks like he was expecting it. "Go to the living room. Right now. I'll be there in a second." 

Eddie hates the way his voice sounds. He’s not being rude, just a little more firm than he would usually be with Steve. 

Steve likes soft and sweet. But this seems to do the trick. He watches as Steve’s eyes fall to the ground with a small nod and then he walks away, pressing his hands together to keep the blood from dripping everywhere.

He sighs. He feels so out of his depth right now it's not even funny. He wants to call Buckley and ask her what she thinks, but he can’t right now. Steve would definitely hear it and that wouldn’t end up well. 

Eddie gets to cleaning. He collects the broken pieces and feels like the mug is mocking him, telling him how dumb and useless he is. Can’t even help his boyfriend.

He’s not in any rush. Feels like Steve could use the quiet time to calm down. To maybe tell Eddie what’s happening and then Eddie will fix it.

But that’s not what happens.

Steve is sitting on the couch, head low as he clutches his hand. His sweatpants are stained with blood and Eddie knows he'll have to ask Wayne how to clean them. 

"Steve," he says softly but even that makes him jump. He looks up at him and his eyes are glassy and distant. Eddie fucking hates it.

"I'm sorry," he says again and Eddie sighs. He doesn't know what's happening but he has a hunch and he's going to go with it. 

"It's ok. It was an accident," he says and he can see Steve shaking his head. "Stop. I'm talking now." 

Eddie's voice is calm but firm and Steve just nods, sniffling. 

"I wouldn't lie to you, would I?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. That's not enough. 

"Words, Steve. Would I lie to you?" 

"N-no," Steve says and Eddie offers him the hint of a smile. 

"Right. So, I'm not mad that you broke the mug, ok?" 

Steve nods. "Ok."

"I am mad, though," Eddie starts and he sees fear in Steve's eyes. His insides twist. He's either going to nail this or ruin his relationship. "That you hurt yourself and didn't call for me. Why didn't you call me for, Stevie?"

He says the last part a little softer. Steve's eyes are on him and this is it. Either he cracks him or fucks this up completely. 

"I... didn't want you to be mad," he says. 

"Because of the mug?" 

"Y-yeah," Steve's voice shakes and Eddie takes a step forward. "I didn't mean to, it slipped from my hand and broke, and I thought you would be mad." 

"Baby," Eddie says. It's hard to keep his stance. He wants to hold Steve and kiss him and promise him things are ok, but he needs Steve to see it first. "I wouldn't. I couldn't. You know that, don't you?" 

Steve doesn't seem sure but he nods. And it’s after a long sigh that he keeps talking, "my... dad.  He always got mad. Always yelled at me and called me stupid." 

Eddie sighs. Bingo. 

"I'm not your dad though, am I?" 

"N-no."

"Who am I?" Eddie asks and Steve looks at him and his face finally softens. 

"You're Eddie. My... boyfriend" 

Eddie smiles. "Yeah, I am. And I don't get mad, do I?"

"Only..." Steve says. He looks like a kid, afraid to get the answer wrong. "Only if I hurt myself and don't call you." 

Eddie feels his chest filling up with pride. He nods, takes a step forward, and puts his hand on Steve's face. 

"Yeah. That's right. Because it's ok to ask for help. I'll always help you, ok? I'll always take care of you, Stevie. And I'll never get mad at something like this, ok?" 

Steve's eyes flutter shut. He's calmer now. He nods and nuzzles Eddie's hand. 

"Ok, Eddie. Thank... thank you." 

Eddie caresses his face. "You're welcome, sweetheart. I got you, ok? Can I clean you up?" 

Steve nods. "Please."

God. Eddie's heart is in pieces right now. He's so sad and so angry at the same time. He wants to storm into the Harrington's house and beat the shit out of Richard Harrington. 

He remembers seeing Steve walking around in school. Hidden bruises that no one seemed to notice. But Eddie did. 

He's going to kill that motherfucker.

But not right now. 

Right now he's going to take Steve to the bathroom in their tiny apartment. And he's going to clean him up and patch his cut. And he's going to take him to bed, to cuddle him and whisper in his hair how much he loves him. 

How he's the best thing that has ever happened to him. How Steve makes him so, so happy. How he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. 

But tomorrow? Tomorrow he's going to make sure no one hurts Steve ever again. 

[racinggirl]

furthest from truth

Lando Norris fic - requested

My inbox for requests

a/n: I'm baaack! It's been a while, I have to admit. But after having 3 new requests today, I got motivated again and I decided to write the ones that were yet to be posted on my page. I hope you like it! I've added some spice to the end of the chapter 👀 Don't forget to follow me so you won't miss my other stories! 🫶🏼

Sun. Beach. Sand. Friends.

It might look cliché, but it’s what filled your hearts with joy.

‘’Norris! Give me a hand, will ya?’’ Your lips pulled away from those of your boyfriend the moment he got up to help one of your friends with preparing the jet skis.  

‘’Finally,’’ your best friend, Ava, laughed as she took a seat next to you. ‘’Now that your lips are no longer glued to his, what do you think of grabbing a drink, I’m in a desperate need for a Frozen Daiquiri.’’

She pulled you up on your feet after you agreed on getting drinks. It was your holiday, after all, and even though it was just your first day of the 3-week holiday here in Dubai, you were planning on making it the best holiday yet.

You and Lando had been together for a little over 5 months now, the two of you bumping into each other at last year’s Christmas Market in London. You spilled your bottle of water over your shirt, and he was determined to win you a teddy bear so he could make it up to you.

After that Christmas Market, you went on a ton of dates. In London, but also in Monaco, as that was where he lived. You attended 3 races before he finally asked you to be his last summer, and obviously you said yes, otherwise this story is kind of weird, isn’t it?

Anyways, you knew who he was when you met him, having watched a few races here and there, along with your friends.

The moment you told your friends Lando had asked you out on a date, they couldn’t contain their excitement and practically forced you to go out with him. So, you did. And here we are, almost a year later.

‘’Two Frozen Strawberry Daiquiri, please.’’ Ava ordered the drinks for the two of you and once you felt the cold glass in your hand, you immediately took a sip.

‘’Urgh,’’ you groaned, your eyes closed. ‘’Best drink ever.’’ You giggled.

‘’Lando! Oh my god watch out!’’ Your grip on his life jacket was tight as he was riding the jet ski with you on the back. ‘’You idiot!’’ You laughed, hands gripping his shoulders firmly when you felt him go even faster – if that was even possible.

‘’You’re riding a jet ski with an F1 driver, love. Did you really think I was gonna go slow?’’ You groaned at his reply, and you simply held onto him like you could fall off any moment, which was probably the case.

Everything sport related was a game to him, and he was very, very competitive. He hated losing, which is why he tried his hardest to make you his, with success.

‘’Okay, okay, enough speed for me, let’s go back to the shore and have dinner, I’m starving.’’ You breathe, Lando’s hand moving over your leg slowly. He lifted his hand till it rested on your outer thigh, whilst still steering the jet ski with one hand. Slower, though, thankfully.

‘’We will, love, we will.’’ He said, but you could hear the amusement in his voice, his tone, teasingly with a smirk.

‘’Lan-…’’ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before your boyfriend pulled the right handle towards him, the two of you flying over the water. He made sure to keep an eye on you, but he knew you enjoyed this, and he wasn’t wrong.

You might tell him to stop going fast, heck, even in the bedroom you’d tell him to stop, but it was always with that flirty and teasing tone. He knew that tone, and he knew it meant you did not want him to, in fact, stop. So, he kept going.

‘’I should have thought better before signing that contract about us.’’

You were fully drenched, Lando obviously pushing the strings too hard which caused you to fall off the jet ski. Nothing harsh, it was all playful, and the two of you were laughing when it happened.

‘’You’re an idiot.’’ You smirked, rolling your eyes playfully as you squeezed the salty water out of your hair.

‘’I know, but you like it.’’ He teased, slapping your ass lightly as his hand moved its way towards your hip, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. ‘’I love you.’’

Dinner, which was absolutely insane – mostly because you were starving, but definitely because it was one of the best restaurants here in Dubai.

‘’Ehm..’’ Ava shoved you her phone, and you immediately let your eyes wander over the tweets, the Instagram posts, and the articles.

Lando saw the worried look on your face, so he cut off the conversation with his friends and pointed his attention to you, causing his friends to do the same.

‘’What’s wrong, love?’’ He asked, his thumb drawing small circles on your knee as his gaze went from you to the phone, back to you.

You showed him the articles, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips. You could see his jaw clench, the apple in his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. ‘’They really need to make rumours about everything, don’t they?’’ He sighed and pressed a kiss to your temple.

‘’Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll fix it, we’ll post a statement on Insta, alright?’’ He said, his arms wrapping around you which caused you to relax.

You felt guilty, because you were aware of the eyes that were on him now that his contract with McLaren was coming to an end. You knew his contract was getting renewed, but the world didn’t, and you didn’t want to cause issues.

People blaming McLaren for not renewing his contract, and how this. People blaming McLaren for forcing Lando to be in a relationship with you, a PR relationship, which was the furthest from the truth. You loved each other so much, and McLaren had absolutely nothing to do with the two of you.

‘’Come here.’’ Lando’s arms made his way around your shoulders, his strong arms pulling you even closer to his chest. The bed was comfy, soft, but the tension in your face was apparent, especially to Lando.

‘’I just, I feel so stupid for saying that.’’ You sighed but Lando reassured you immediately.

‘’Babe, it’s not the first time we say this, it’s our joke, and people don’t get it, apparently. You know how the media is, they exaggerate everything to get those views and clicks, so they probably overheard you saying that, but did not see the look on your face, or your beautiful smile when you said that.’’ His voice was soft and calm, like he was not stressed at all about this.

‘’But the image McLa-..’’

‘’No, baby, no. That’s not your fault, okay? They should have probably announced the contract extension sooner, yeah, but that has absolutely nothing to do with whatever you said at the beach, okay?’’ He said, stern, but gentle. And you believed him. Of course you did, you believed everything he would tell you because you knew he was right.

‘’Now let’s make that post so people will stop complaining about things that are the furthest from the truth. That, and so I can take you tonight because I really, really want to.’’ He whispered the last thing with a voice so deep, you felt chills all over your body.

landonorris added to his story

landonorris & yourusername

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 1,273,710 others

I love you more than anyone imagine. Nothing can stop us, I promise you. Best decision I've ever made 🧡

view all 39,264 comments

user1 I feel ashamed

user5 as you should user3 we all should. how could we think it was just a PR. they are in love in love.

user2 You are so so so cute together!

‘’Lando, fuck, stop!’’ You breathe, hands pushing against his chest as he looked into your eyes, his bright ones a few shades darker than usually. He smirked, wetted his lips before thrusting even harder… Just how you asked.

[iiwaijime]

fake dating ft. oliver aiku

wc; 735

cws; gn!reader, angst ending, aiku is a bitc, hurt no comfort, situationship vibes, may make a p2 . not proofread .

fake dating with oliver aiku!

except you're actually falling in love.

i mean at first it's a win-win thing — everyone gets along with aiku, but they're also really fucking scared of him, so they stop bothering you or hitting on you. meanwhile, aiku's fangirls also lessen (to a certain degree). not to mention, he's also giving you a(n admittedly small) chunk of his big fat football player salary. still, it's like 100k yen per month, who could possibly be stupid enough to say no? not you, of course.

you're not sure when exactly you start regretting all of this — maybe it's when the pet names used for show sneak into your private conversations, or maybe it's that one day you realise that whenever he's done with a match, the first thing he does is look for you. maybe it's when you actually start caring about how you present yourself to him, maybe it's when he starts spending nights at yours.

however, thinking of the past and regretting your choices doesn't quite change the position you're in right now, losing your shit and sobbing your eyes out. you hate yourself for ever thinking anything good would come of this. at least he won't see you like this, you think-

but then your front door opens and closes, and shit, maybe you shouldn't have given him one of your extra keys, because now he's halfway down the hall, and you're feverishly wiping at your eyes to maybe look a bit more presentable. but also you're like, really good at all this- hiding your feelings and such. so when he's finally in your room, there's a cheery smile on your face as you greet him.

"hey," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you. you feel a quick kiss pressed to your cheek, a light brush of stubble, before he pulls back to show you what he's holding. "look, i gotchu some candy."

"thank you," you say. you're not quite sure what to feel — none of this is supposed to be real, so why is he acting like a boyfriend in private too? you wish he would go away so you can rot with your feelings in peace again. "you really didn't have to."

"i wanted to," he grins, then looks at you seriously again. "you can drop the act now, by the way."

"what act?" what the hell is he talking about?

"why are you sad?" he asks, pulling you to your bed. he falls back onto th mattress, and you sit down on the edge, beside him.

"i'm not," you lie.

"dude, you look like you're gonna cry." all six feet and three inches of oliver aiku is sprawled out across your bed as he attempts — in vain — to have a heart-to-heart conversation with his fake partner.

"fuck off." your voice breaks.

"you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says with a shrug. he doesn't look at you.

"i just can't do it anymore," you say, taking in a huge breath. "any of this."

"why not?"

"i don't know what's real anymore," you say forlornly.

"what, like schizophrenia?" oliver asks, sitting up.

"no, what the hell! i meant, whatever the fuck we're doing."

"what about it? it's just for a bit more, now."

"yeah, but you keep acting like my boyfriend when you don't need to, and i— i like you!"

"oh," says oliver, and you know it's over. "i'm sorry, y/n, i really am."

you look away, unable to bring yourself to meet his eyes.

"i don't think we should continue this," he adds when you remain silent, and you nod, ashamed of the tears prickling at your eyes. oliver aiku, perceptive as always, notices it and turns to you.

"i'm not saying that i don't want to date you, just... i'm not ready for a committed relationship right now, you get me? you're gorgeous and amazing and all, it's just me who's the problem."

"it's okay, i understand," you reply. the floor is suddenly much more interesting than it ever was before, and if you look into his multicoloured eyes, the ground will turn into lava, and you into stone, and the world will explode.

oliver aiku pats your shoulder, once, then gets up and walks away. the bag of candy is bunched up in one of your hands; the other fists the material of you — no, his jersey. you should've never said yes.

yeah idk ab this one. angst yum yum. um. err. part 2 where they make up maybe

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Home Again

Does anyone even read Hunger Games fanfics anymore?? I don't know, and I don't really care! I recently reread the series to get out of a reading slump, and now I'm hyperfixating again so... you guys get this which will probably turn into a multipart series because I FEEL LIKE IT, OKAY? Tl;dr: I'll do what I want.

Johanna Mason x fem!reader Warnings: Massive HUGE warnings for violence, blood, murder, etc., but also an especially HUGE warning for sexual assault, trauma in general, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything) Word count: 2.5k

Summary: You're freshly home from winning the 73rd Hunger Games, and all you really want is for things to go back to normal for you and your brother. But now you're in the Victor's Village. And now Johanna Mason, who won the year before you, is your neighbor.

It’s not that you didn’t like the house in the Victor’s Village. It was objectively better than the cabin you and Leevee had lived in before. But at the cabin, you’d had neighbors. People who knew you, who looked after you and Leevee after the fever took your parents, even though you insisted you work in exchange for every loaf of bread, every mended pair of pants.

You took care of him as best you could, after your parents died. You dropped out of school and went to work in the lumber yards. Leevee went to school, of course, but his teachers didn’t teach him much of anything. There was something different about him, a bit off. Always had been, since he was born. The people in Seven called him slow, and maybe he was in some ways, but he was also kind and bighearted and quick to laugh and full of joy–traits hard-pressed to come by in a place like this. So everyone took to him and everyone looked out for him. They had a name for his affliction in the Capitol. But you didn’t like them naming something wrong with Leevee, as if what made him different was all there was to him. So you paid it no mind. To you, he was just your Leevee. Perfect just like he was.

It was hard to believe it'd only been three weeks since the Reaping. When your name had been called, you kept your eyes lasered in on the branches of a pine tree in the distance. You could hear Leevee calling your name from the crowd, confused about why you were on stage, and your heart felt like it was being pulled apart. But you would not cry. You wouldn’t let these Capitol people see you cry. It was not for them to see.

Your neighbor, Otta, a widow, had brought Leevee to see you before you had to leave. Only then did you let yourself cry and, even then, he hadn’t understood. He’d taken his handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to your face, and you told him to listen to Otta and the neighbors. That you were going away and you might not be back for a while, but that you loved him very much. Listen to Otta, you said. Keep those listening ears on, young man. And then he was gone. Or, rather, you were.

Before the Games, you hadn’t fancied your chances at winning. Sure, you were strong and, at eighteen, one of the oldest tributes. But you were very small, barely five feet tall, lithe and wiry. You could handle a saw and an ax fairly well from your time in the lumber yard, but you couldn’t imagine sawing through someone. You couldn’t imagine killing someone at all. Even worse was the thought of Leevee watching you kill someone or watching you die. You hoped Otta would cover his eyes.

The arena was the only thing in your favor during the 73rd Hunger Games. A coastal ecosystem. Not rainforest, like parts of Seven, but tall, spindly pines that bent in the wind. It wasn’t exactly like home, but you were nothing if not comfortable around trees. Your saving grace in the Games turned out to be your size. The trees were impossible but all for the smallest of the tributes–you and the youngest–to climb. The first night you spent in one of those pines, you thought you might crash to your death from all the swaying, but once you acclimated, it was like the tree was rocking you. It would have been nice if not for the cannons in the air, if not for the constant terror.

You managed to find plants to eat, to catch fish in the small river that trickled into the artificial ocean. Your Games lasted six days, and you spent most of it in the trees.

That last night… You knew you’d have to kill him. The Career from One. But he was so big–a full foot and a half taller than you and stocky to boot–and vicious. You didn’t even have a real weapon, just some river rocks and a bit of your shirt you’d been using as a sling. But One–you didn’t even like to hear his name now, didn’t like to remember it–he’d found the superior weapon. You’d woken up to your tree shaking, to the tell-tale crackling and groaning of a trunk in distress. One had an ax, and the trees here were so spindly, it’d be a matter of minutes before it toppled, especially with your weight at the top. You tried to scramble down far enough that when the tree fell, you wouldn’t die from it, but you still had a long way to go when the trunk cracked.

It was the landing that did you in. You hit the ground so hard it knocked your breath out. Knocked your brain pretty good, too, based on how blurry everything was afterward. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, and that few seconds was all One needed. He was on top of you, and the weight of him made it even harder to catch your breath. You were faintly aware of your body fighting back, but it was like fighting back against a mountain. You screamed when he stabbed long hunting knives into either of your forearms, all the way through, pinning you to the ground, and almost passed out from the pain. This was it. This was how you'd die. You’d like to say you thought of Leevee, but all you thought of was how scared you were.

But… he wasn’t killing you. He wasn’t getting another weapon. He was… undressing? And suddenly you remembered that there were things worse than death. You screamed and screamed until your throat gave out. You didn’t care who saw you cry now, couldn’t have stopped the tears if you’d wanted to. People didn’t do this in the Games. They murdered each other. They hurt each other. They tore one another to bits. But they didn’t do this. Surely, the Capitol wouldn’t let this happen, wouldn’t let this air on TV. There was a line, surely. But as soon as you thought it, the hope left your body deflated and empty except for the man–the boy, mere months older than you–grunting above you. There was no line. Not where the Capitol was involved.

But somewhere in your pain-addled brain, you realized that he was… occupied, which meant he wasn’t keeping a close enough eye on his weapons. You screamed as you wrenched one of your arms out of the ground and pulled the knife from your other wrist. There was a moment, right at the last second, where he looked up and understood what you were doing, but it was too late by then. The last thing you remembered from the arena was plunging the knife into his neck.

When they made you watch the replay of your “victory,” you’d hardly recognized yourself. Covered in blood, lips curled up in a snarl, as if you were an animal. You hadn’t stopped at his neck. You’d stabbed him over and over and over. You’d stabbed his genitals so many times there was nothing left but a mangled, bloody mess. And then you’d passed out.

And, to be frank, you could never bring yourself to feel any remorse over it. For the others you’d killed, the ones who’d happened by your perch over the river, and died quickly from a stone to the temple–you felt awful. It tore you apart. But One? For what he had done to you, he deserved every moment of his gruesome, painful death.

Now that you were back in Seven, back with Leevee, and moved into the Victor’s Village, you knew that it would never be the same. Not with the people that knew you before. Everyone looked at you like a wounded animal, like someone to be pitied. The assault had traumatized the entire nation. Even the Capitol viewers had so disliked the “assault narrative,” that the Games Committee had put forth a blanket statement that, in the future, sexual violence would be met with a swift and immediate death. One of your old neighbors told you that you should feel proud that you made a difference in the future games, protecting future tributes. You’d gone home and vomited, as you did every night after you woke up screaming, sweating, feeling the weight of One on top of you.

Your solace these days was Leevee. You were struggling to get used to the isolation of the Victor’s Village, even though your tendency now was to isolate yourself anyway. He was so happy to have you back. He didn’t really understand where you’d gone. Otta and the others had told him you were “camping,” and that’s where you were when he saw you on the screens.

You didn’t need to work in the lumber yard anymore, so you spent long days with Leevee. Now that you had time, you were teaching him things that the instructors at school didn’t bother with, like how to read. And you’d left school so early to take care of him that you had learning to do, too. There wasn’t much of a library to speak of, in Seven, but oddly enough your house at the Victor’s Village had come stocked with books, and you were making your way through all of them.

Your favorite part of the day was your afternoon walk with Leevee. Long and leisurely. You spent a lot of time at the fountain in the center of the Victor’s houses. You gave him stones to throw in and fished them out, barefoot in the water. You had the fountain and the Village pretty much to yourself. Just Blight, who kept to himself, and Johanna, who’d won two years ago. You had known Johanna a little, at school, but you'd never spoken much, just in passing. You’d dropped out so early, there hadn’t been much time for friends.

Johanna seemed to have built some kind of improvised woodshop outside of her house, and she was out there quite a bit, but you never approached her. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who took kindly to strangers, especially since her Games, two years before yours. She’d been belligerent and hostile in the Capitol and, in retaliation, they’d killed her family. Officially, of course, they’d died of the fever. Unofficially, Snow’s roses, left on each of their deathbeds for Johanna to find when she’d returned from a day in the forest, were warning enough.

But you noticed her watching you on your walks with Leevee, when you played with him at the fountain. Felt her eyes on you and tried to ignore them. They were like everyone else’s–full of pity. And you were so tired of being pitied. Yes, it had been awful. Yes, there were nights that you jerked awake and wished One had just killed you instead of leaving you like this. But then who would Leevee have? He needed you.

One day, when you and Leevee walked past Johanna's house on the way to the fountain, you found her sitting on her porch steps, staring as usual. Her eyes were hard and direct, and you found it hard to meet them. You were tired of this. So tired.

“Leevee, go ahead to the fountain, young man. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Leevee happily ran ahead, and you whipped your head around to face Johanna, pulling yourself into as imposing a figure as you could manage in your tiny frame. Which, given that you had stabbed a man to death, was maybe more than you could hope for otherwise. 

You glared at her, finally meeting her cool eyes. “Stop looking at me like that,” you spat, your voice steady and sharp.

Johanna looked almost… amused? She stood and walked toward you, smirking. “Like what, half-pint?”

You hadn’t really expected her to engage with you at all, and you were losing confidence quickly. Johanna was taller than you, more confident than you, cooler than you, tougher than you, prettier than you. You stopped yourself. Prettier? Who cares about prettier?!

“Like you feel sorry for me! Look at me like an animal or a fucking murderer, I don’t care. Just…” You deflated slightly, shifting your eyes to the ground. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Johanna was quiet for a moment, as if she was sizing you up. You wished you could tell what she was thinking. You wanted Johanna to like you or at least tolerate you but, then, did Johanna actually like anybody?

“Okay,” she said and shrugged. You couldn’t quite believe it. Would it really be that easy? “I’ll look at you like you are.”

“Like I am?”

“Mmhm.”

You waited for her to elaborate, but she never did, instead turning and walking back toward her porch. You shook your head and went to meet Leevee by the fountain. You hoped you hadn’t fucked it up. Was this Johanna’s version of friendly? You weren’t really sure. You got the feeling you’d know if she didn’t like you.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You stopped and looked behind you to find Johanna trotting up, holding something in her hands. She handed you the object–a small sailboat carved out of wood. You looked at the boat–so smooth, so beautifully crafted–and then at Johanna, confused.

“For your brother,” she explained. “To use in the fountain. It’s made of cedar, so it’ll float.”

You were stunned speechless, watching Johanna, who kept her eyes on some fixed point in the distance and wrung her hands as if she were… nervous? Johanna, nervous? And suddenly, she didn’t seem so intimidating to you, this girl who’d orchestrated a bloodbath to win the Games. Who’d been so filled with rage and hurt by the part she’d been forced to play, only to have everyone she loved taken from her. She wasn’t scary at all, you realized. Not really. She was like you. She was a scared, angry girl who’d done what she had to do to survive.

“Anyway,” she said, eager for the moment to end. “See you never, shortstuff.” She hurried back toward her house, but you yelled after her.

“Hey, Johanna! You could go on a walk with us sometime. You know, if you wanted.”

“Why would I want to hang out with you!?” she called without turning back.

You grinned. So Johanna might take a little work. That was okay. You had time. You had nothing but time now.

You approached Leevee, who was finding nearby sticks to throw in the fountain.

“Hey, young man,” you said, beckoning him over. “Look at this! Johanna made it for you!”

And, oh, you wished she could have seen his eyes light up. You had a hunch that she was still watching, from her window or her woodshop or wherever she’d planted herself. Leevee could melt anyone’s heart, even yours. Maybe even hers.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello again 🙋🏻‍♀️! I couldn't stay away from your blog much longer, treating myself a full binge of your beautiful work on my evening off 😋.

So, I come with another meow meow Daemon thingy, where he's betrothed to a sharp Stark lady who's ruthless with him and he's like 😍; So he's geting "ahem" impatient at the wedding, losing control and trying to touch her. I'll leave the rest to you as I trust in this vivid imagination 😄.

Thanks for being the amazing creator you are, have a lovely day 💐

A Ring is Merely Jewelry and Marriage a Contract

Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: You had a lot to say to your father about his plans to marry you off to house Targaryen. And though you thought the prince was as appalled by the match as you are, something rewired his brain when he saw you. Direwolf against dragon anyone? Dare to place your bet on who wins?

Word Count: 5k+

Warnings: Misogyny, arranged/forced marriage, fem!reader, snarky!reader, annoying!Daemon, enemies to lovers(?), father's reader is sick and coughs every other moment, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! I WAS SO EXCITED TO SEE THIS IN MY INBOX!!!!! '... couldn't stay away from your blog much longer' begs the question why were you staying away in the first place 🤨 I'm so glad you think im amazing <3 SLAY yuh. my heart goes boom but i have to admit, the prompt stumped me a bit. so hopefully you enjoy what I made. i enjoyed writing it myself Also, I don't know much about game of thrones lore so im just making stuff up as i go SKSKASKFA:SF I LOVE LONG HAIRED DAEMON GAAH LOOK AT HIM ALL PETTY AND PATHETIC WITH THAT DRAGON EGG Part 2 anyone "Fire & Havoc"

I slam my hands on the table, "I WILL NOT GO, FATHER!"

He is unfazed by the ruckus I cause and only proceeds to eat his breakfast.

"You told me I could choose whom I marry," I whine, "you swore it. I-"

"But that was before," he speaks plainly, offering me a mere look after.

I scoff, twice as wronged because I knew exactly what he meant. "Cregan!" I call to my older and only other sibling, "surely you do not-"

"This matter does not concern your brother," my father dismisses.

"Oh," I stand from my seat and glare at my father, "does it not" I scoff yet again, "when he will surely benefit from the marriage you are suggesting with that horrid prince-"

"Silence!" my father takes his turn slamming his hand on the table. For a moment, the two of us glare at each other. He continues after taking a deep breath, "you are to pack, leave your wolf and-"

"Leave my wolf?!"

"-to travel to King's Landing at once, with not a single complaint."

My jaw slacks in utter disbelief. My fists tighten in rage.

Cregan, who had been spectating silently the entire time, finally drops his fork and swallows the food in his mouth, "father, don't you think making her leave without Ha-"

"ENOUGH!"

Both Cregan and I stiffen at the echo of our father's voice. However, his body proceeds to rattle with an intense cough.

The anger in me fades into concern when his ragged barks do not cease. Before I could gather my skirts and go to him, he raises his hand and forces him breath to even, "enough."

Rickon looks back to me and the hollowness of his face is suddenly apparent, "I will not argue over this any further, daughter."

"But, fa-"

"You are a Stark," he sighs, "cunning, strong, and capable, but when I die, all that I have will pass to your brother," he leans against his chair, "and even though I know he would not abandon you, the fool will surely not remember you enough to keep you safe."

"But I don't need him to be safe, I-"

"The world will not allow it," he manages before choking into another cough.

As Cregan gives the old man a drink, I feel tears glass my eyes out of spite.

Rickon does not accept the cup upon seeing my expression.

"It is not fair," I mutter under a jagged breath.

He sighs, "if it were up to me, I would-"

"You cannot make me leave my wolf," I point accusingly, "you cannot make me go to him, as though I am a subservient entity with no mind and no desires."

My father speaks my name, but I am not having it.

"If you are so hellbent on me marrying that insolent younger Targaryen that you waste your dying wish on him," I seethe, anger leaving me in a form of bitter of tears, "then I will do as my Lord Stark commands," I offer a fake curtsy.

My father calls me again, another cough takes possession of him.

"But know this," I say as I straighten myself up, "if he dares lay a finger on me, I will slit his throat. And if he is a good enough warrior to survive my blade, then he will slit my throat for my treason," I move away from my seat, "and when my blood waters the earth, father, it will be because of your dying wish."

"ENOUGH!" Cregan demands, pointing at me angrily.

By the time my the coughs reverberating in the dining room dampens, I've already made my way out.

There was a part of me that regrets leaving home like that. But it was precisely Rickon Stark who imparted his great pride upon me. I could not even bring myself to look at him before I left, though Cregan bribed me with my own wolf to have me speak to our father.

She new I was leaving, Havoc. I nearly jumped out of my carriage when I heard her desperate howls. I found that my door was locked from the outside and the idea enraged me enough that I nearly broke the window open.

But then it dawned to me that it was pointless.

Even if I managed to get out of my prison, I would be shipped to King's Landing either way, only this time, I would have worn everyone's patience thinner.

You could only imagine the state of my own patience when I arrived at my horrid destination.

It was unbelievably sweltering and unimaginably cold all at once.

Him, tenfold, that Daemon Targaryen.

Not only did he place no efforts in welcoming me, it seems he ordered my chambers to be at the opposite of his, to make things more annoying and more difficult for everyone.

Fine.

It seems he did not want me, and I did not want him. We at least had something in common we could work on.

Today marked the 10th day of my stay in this wretched place. Each morn, I would seek audience with my betrothed and yet his handmaiden would curtsy to me and say, "the Prince is not here, my lady."

I chuckle dryly in disbelief and make an effort not to snap at the woman, for I knew she was not at fault, "and have you expressed my tenacity to seek audience with him. I-- Lady Stark, who has defeated my Lord suitors in combat, and would gladly attack him for less if he continues ignoring my existence-- seek his audience" I nod feverously, "have you expressed this to him?"

My words are visibly unsavory to her ears, "I have, your grace."

My face twitches as I avert my gaze away from the woman. But not even the sight of the blue sky halts the way my chest vibrates in annoyed laughter, "then he is more insolent than I could have ever hoped," I release a sharp shudder, "and I am to be wed to him in two days time."

I turn back to the perturbed maid, "what jovial news, don't you agree-- Bethany, was it?"

She nods her head as her face twists in fear.

I take deep breaths to calm myself and screw my eyes shut at the feel of sweat dripping down my nape because of the fucking climate of this wretched place.

I rub the back of my neck roughly as I open my eyes and force a smile, "then shall you lead me to the training grounds?"

"As you command," she shakes her head, "but I am sure the prince is not-"

"Not for him," I blurt, "for me."

Her brows knit, "... your grace, I-"

"And I do not mean the royal training grounds. It's utterly boring there. I mean the area where those Gold Cloaks train. Do you know what I speak of?"

Bethany quickly nods.

"Yes, that's the one. I am fucking sick of doing nothing all day, and so I might as well entertain myself before I end up killing someone."

I do not have enough patience to explain the light jest in my tone after hearing how roughly she gulps.

Bethany wordlessly escorts me to the training grounds, where I then see about a dozen men, sweaty and loud, as they spar and practice together.

I find myself releasing a sigh of relief at the sight before me, and promptly dismiss Bethany with a nod.

The moment she goes on her way, however, I call out to her, remembering my own poor handmaiden, "might I ask one last favor before you leave?"

Bethany nods, "of course, my lady."

"Please inform Belidea of my whereabouts. She is a terrible worry wart and I cannot stand the sound of her high pitched nags."

"Of course, my lady," she repeats more urgently.

I nod, "very good. You have my thanks."

Once she is gone, I make my way to the training grounds, and my mere presence commands the attention of the soldiers.

"My lady," a man with brown hair and a long beard nods, walking over to me with his golden cloak swaying behind him.

I nod back at him, "who is the commander of this training session?"

"That would be me, my lady."

I smile at him and introduce myself, "you are welcome to call me simply by my name."

"I do not wish to offend Prince Daemon," he says, then adding, "Ser Phineas, at your service, Lady Stark."

"A pleasure," I say, "though I must correct you in your belief that your beloved prince even knows of my existence."

"Nonsense," he shakes his head, "his head is heavy with thoughts of your marriage."

I snort, "you don't say? You are acquainted with his insolence well then?"

Phineas lets out an uncomfortable cough, My lips curve at it.

"I would not myself assume to be well-acquainted with our prince at all."

"Hmm," I cross my arms, "very well then, ser Phineas. I wonder then if you would allow me the warm regard your dragon born did not when I arrived to King's Landing."

The man bows in response.

"I would like to spar with your finest swordsman."

He lifts his face to me.

"I am terribly bored and quite frankly annoyed by the continuous absence of my beloved," I suck in a deep breath, "and so I should like to relieve my stress rather than allow it to fester within me."

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, square shoulders relaxing, "Ah. I would gladly instruct the lady in the art of-"

I raise a finger at him, "I did not ask to be taught," I cut him off, "and if it is you who you believe to the best amongst your peers, then I shall warn you not to twist my words and delude yourself to be better than I, simply because you are a man."

I see how his expression shifts at my words. Phineas sucks in a a breath from his nostrils, "Lady Stark, I do not wish to harm you, nor do I think it would be wise for you to rile up the prince, if that is-"

"Bold of you to think you could harm me, first of all," I say walking off to the circle him, "second of all, if you bring up the prince again, I will rip your cloak off and use it as a towel," I rub my forehead, "the heat of this place is unbearable."

"It must be polar opposite to the frost up North," he says, turning to me when I make it back in front of him.

"It is," I state, "now. Will you let me spar, or will I have to provoke you even more?"

He is unable to control the curl of amusement from his lips.

The whole training ground clears and crowds around us as we make it its center. Phineas turns to his brothers-at-arms and then back to me as he twists his sword in his hands for show, "I will go-"

"Easy on me?" I roll my eyes and finish for him, stabbing my sword on the ground before me so that I can stretch, "I would advise you otherwise, since I am as adept with the blade in a skirt, as I am without." I roll my shoulder back as I smirk, "it would hurt your fragile ego too much if you should lose to me too quickly."

The crowd mumbles at my haughty remark.

Phineas chuckles but shows no trace of annoyance or anger.

I smile at his composure and pull my sword up, pointing it to him, "enough chat."

"MY LADY, NO!" the frantic voice of my handmaiden calls out. All eyes turn to her as she makes her way through the crowd and makes herself visible to me.

"Belidea," I call, "just in time for the show."

"Please," she catches her breath, adding lowly, "do not make a spectacle of yourself."

I roll my eyes, "then would you like to spar with him?"

Belidea only continues to heave as I offer her the weapon in my hand.

I raise a brow at her and go back to my stance, "then be still and silent."

Phineas readies himself, "you can still-" but the sound of my steel crashing against his effectively shut him up.

It seems, finally, after all this time, I have finally merited the attention of the prince.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Daemon barks, beholding his beloved Gold Cloaks, worn out, battered and beaten, with several injured.

Having taken a moment to drink some water, I see the long silver hair on his back and find my brows raising at the sight of it.

The man I was drinking with, Elias, chokes on his water and wipes his lips quickly with his wrist. He leans and mutters to me, "that's the prince, my lady."

"Yes," I shift on my leg, "it is obvious, it is not?"

Faced with frantic faces, Daemon is still with rage at the lack of answers.

"Betrothed," I call from behind him the moment I am near. With my hair wild out of its original hairstyle, and my skirt ripped short out of my own rage towards it, I curtsy at him with my hands behind my back.

My eyes do not leave the Targaryen's face as he examines the cuts on my arm and thighs. There was blood on my clothes that was indistinguishable if it were mine or not, but there was a sure darkness behind my eyes. I rise when I speak, "it is a wonder to finally meet you face to face."

Belidea, who was quick to run to my side, shrinks as not to meet the prince's gaze. She quickly makes an effort to wrap the golden cloak I took as my prize to mask my indecency, but I merely push the cloak of me.

"Were you captured?" he quickly interrogates, as if he is concerned.

I scoff and roll my eyes, "as your men are ashamed to admit," I turn to Phineas, who was missing his cloak, "I amused myself by winning all the matches against them."

The man shifts to face me, grabbing the fabric of what used to be part of my sleeve, "and this looks like winning to you?"

I rip the fabric off me using I had in my palms and step forward, motioning to the side, "does that?"

He bares his profile to me as he examines his battered men. A curve forms on his lips and it makes my eyes narrow in anger.

"All of you morons lost to the lady?" he calls loudly, ending his words with a chuckle.

I fidget with the dagger in my hand.

Upon catching this, Phineas places a hand on my arm. I turn to him with a dirty look that immediately makes him withdraw.

"Is it so hard to believe, Prince Daemon?"

Daemon turns back to me, eyes bright, matching his grin, "no, I am impressed."

I scoff, "because you do not believe my might."

He steps closer to me, eyes flickering to the dagger I was still playing with, "perhaps you would grace me with a demonstration-"

"Go fuck yourself," I blurt, throwing the dagger off to the side before storming off.

And as shocked as he was, Daemon was more so excited than anything.

It seems he was so moved by my performance that he finally came to me instead of the other way around. He, however, lacked the decency I had and came to me in the darkness of night.

It took everything in my not to ram into him and strike him with the comb I was using when he rudely walked in my chambers. I controlled myself for the sake of the poor servants that would behold my massacre.

"What do you want?" I blurt, eyeing him from my vanity.

Daemon, who was in his own sleeping attire it seems, smiles softly as he places his hands behind his back, "my lady wife has been seeking my audience."

I slam my comb on my vanity and cause my maids to gasp. I march in front of the seemingly further amused prince and clench my jaw at the sight of him, "the mere fact you are referring to me as your wife tells me that I should not seek your audience at all."

He chuckles at my words, linking his hands in front of him. Daemon hums, "I see. You do not wish to wed me."

I scoff, "and a few hours ago, you shared the same sentiment." I tilt my head up at him in annoyance, but it seems the sight of the blood on my clothes has made you change your fickle mind."

He chuckles more loudly this time, "that was because I was fed lies about marrying an obedient wife that wanted nothing but to sire me strong heirs with the will of Starks and Targaryens."

"And what pig shat out that crap?"

"That would be the lords of the council," he smiles, "but clearly they have not met you."

I lick my teeth at his expression, "do not act so pleased, as though you have won me over."

"Worry not, my dear, the dragon in me so burns at the challenge."

I shake my head and roll my eyes at him, "do not speak to me of your dragon," I step away from him, "it does not entice me."

I catch sight of my servants as Daemon laughs. I promptly dismiss them as the prince makes his way to my bed and sits on the side, "ah yes. I was wondering why I had yet to behold your famous direwolves."

I cross my arms as he presses his lips into a pleased smile, "would they not fare well in this weather? Is that why you did not bring yours?"

"Are you quite comfortable, my prince?"

His shoulders shake in amusement, "I am."

"Then do not be surprised if you do not make it out of here alive," I say as I stalk towards him.

Daemon give me a lopsided smirk, "they did not allow you any weapons, as your brother warned."

"A comb would be a good weapon as any," I blurt, grabbing the said object from my vanity and pointing it to him as I stand before him.

I am surprised that he does not laugh at my words. He is wise not to anger me any further.

"You must admit it is better that you and I end up with each other."

"And why would I ever admit that," I whisper through grit teeth.

"Because you and I are the same," he says, standing.

"We are not the same."

Daemon turns to the comb still pointed at him as he walks closer, "I too would make a weapon out of anything I could get my hands on."

I lean towards him, dropping my comb, to grab his collar, "that does not make us the same."

He releases a hot breath that hits my face. As I glare at him, his hands land on my sides, making me jolt. I promptly shove him off when I feel his unwelcome touch, "fuck off."

He reels back, but does not fall on my bed. I gaze upon him with anger and wrap my arms around myself, annoyed by the goosebumps that form on my skin.

"If you shall call to me again, I will hastily answer."

I grunt, "Fuck. Off."

He offers me one last chuckle as he nods, "I look forward to our wedding."

I do not.

The hour comes swiftly despite this.

We were now in the dining hall on either side of the king. The two brothers were making merry, yet I was making no effort to hide my distaste.

"I heard that you made a spectacle of the Gold Cloaks, sister," Queen Aemma spoke, making me turn to her as she caressed the bump of her belly.

I looked at her smile and pitied how she was reduced to nothing but a baby maker.

"Uncle went from denying your existence to praising the very ground you walked on," Rhaenyra adds, mischief written all over her face. Her mother to scolds her, to which she responds, "what, it's true?"

"I so would like to know how good you are with blades. It is not everyday that we hear of a woman warrior," King Viserys chuckles, and it makes me snap.

"Well it is not everyday that a father allows his daughter to practice her strength," I coldly remark, turning from him to Rhaenyra, "I heard you dissuade the princess from going on dragonback though it is in her very nature to be drawn to it."

Daemon chuckles as his older brother goes quiet.

I catch sight of my impeding doom's amusement, and turn away from him. That very moment, the dining hall's doors open and I find myself shooting up from my seat.

No matter ho much of a solid fortress I convinced myself to, the moment I saw my brother walk in with my father being carried by two of our men in a litter, I was crumbling at the very seams.

I feel the Targaryens burn their eyes on me but I do not care.

The moment my family is before me, I clench my jaw.

"My King, My Queen, My Prince, My Princess," Cregan smiles between the royal faces then turns to me, "dear sister."

"Lord Rickon," Viserys greets, "Lord Cregan."

"I hope you have taken kindly to my daughter, Prince Daemon," my father mutters with a strained voice.

I do not tear my gaze from my father, whose illness was clearly getting the better of him.

"She was surely the pride of your house," Daemon says, "and now she will be the pride of mine."

The old fool nods at the prince's words, and I feel bitterness coat my tongue. My father seemingly wanted to say something, but his cough decides he won't before he can even open his mouth.

Cregan takes it as a cue to take him away. He gives me a look, "father wished to tell you that you are the perfect bride."

I watch as they make their way to their spot.

I cannot bring myself to move an inch from where I was standing as tears coat my cheeks. It was all a betrayal. It was all so much colder than the Northern snow I find myself yearning for. How could they allow this to happen to me? How could my-

"Go to him."

I turn to my side, finding Daemon's face as he repeats, "go to him."

Before I know it, I am standing behind my father who had just caught his breath from the coughs he started.

Cregan calls my name once he notices me, and this causes Rickon to turn over his shoulder and make me grind my teeth.

"You fool," I mutter bitterly, "you old, fucking fool."

Cregan places a hand on me. My father calls my name, and it brings me to my knees. I grab onto his cold and thin arm, thinking how it felt nothing like the hand that guided me in my youth.

"Do not waste your tears on this old, fucking fool, daughter."

I look up to him and see tears on his face. I shake my head, "papa," I whine, "don't do this to me. You can still take back your word."

"Sister, that is enough," Cregan hushes.

Rickon places his other hand on my head and sighs, "he does not deserve you," he inhales, "that much I agree."

"Then make this right! Release me-"

"So make him deserve you," he catches my chin, "make him as loyal as your wolf," he coughs twice, "or feed him to Havoc yourself."

Our father rattles out into another fit out coughs.

Cregan pulls me to my feet and sighs. He pulls me to the side yet the sound of coughing does not fade. "He has only worsened since you've gone."

I suck in a breath and will my tears away.

"I pray you release your grudges, before it's too late."

I scoff, "easy for you to say when everything is easy for you, brother," I push his hand off me, "you are the heir, you are in charge."

He calls my name in frustration, "you know damn well that is not what I meant."

"Worry not," I scoff in annoyance, "I will do as our father instructs," I turn to the said man, "as always. I will make him as loyal as Havoc," I gulp, turning to the prince who was already looking at me, "or feed him to her myself."

Cregan watches as I storm all the way back to my seat.

The rest of the events are a blur, the toast, the ceremony, the merrymaking I was clearly not a part of.

But it doesn't matter. What matters is that I could now feel Havoc's warmth against me. She had nearly tackled me to the ground when we were reunited. She felt my heartache and whined with me as I emptied my sorrows on her fur.

Though she spoke no words to me, she provided the best comfort I could ever ask for. Havoc and I have been bonded ever since she was born. She knew nothing but me and I knew nothing but her.

And so when she began to snarl, I felt her protectiveness in my bones.

I turn to the direction of her anger and see my husband still in his spot.

"You are wise not to tread any nearer," I mutter to him as I stand to my feet. Havoc stands beside me. I command her to stand down and lie on her belly. She is reluctant but obedient.

Daemon places his hands behind his back, "I hope you know that it was a mistake for them to bring her to the dragon pit."

"I am not a fool, I would not bring Havoc anywhere near your-"

"I will introduce Caraxes to her slowly," he cuts me off, "though I confess, I do not know how he would react."

I tilt my head to him and measure his words, "and why would you do that?"

"Because she belongs to wife," he spokes as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

When he stretches his hand out to me, Havoc reacts with another snarl.

"Enough, Havoc," I command her, placing a hand on her snout, making her soften her warning sounds.

"Would you introduce me to her?" the prince asks, hand reaching out to me.

I feel a pit in my stomach. There a loud voice was screaming loudly in disagreement, screaming to allow Havoc her carnal desire. Yet the voice of my father rings in my mind, 'make him loyal'. At the same time, the feeling of Daemon's gentle touch as he kissed me after our vows plays in my head.

I turn to Havoc, back to Daemon, and step once so I could reach the prince's palm. Once I have him in my grip, Havoc begins to snarl loudly again. I scold her and pull Daemon behind me. I ignore the way my stomach drops when his other hand rests on my waist. Though the touch is uninvited, I do not fight him off for the sake of keeping Havoc calm.

I place my hand atop Daemon's and link my fingers in his then place his palm on my wolf's large, furry head.

Havoc does not appreciate it, I can feel it. And yet, she does nothing but snarl as she feels Daemon's hand on her.

"He is my husband, sweet girl," I hush her, placing my other hand on her back, "you will not eat him."

Daemon chuckles, then presses closer behind me. I feel my body ignite when his chest meets my back.

He proceeds to speak in another tongue, and to my surprise, Havoc tilts her head at him and dampens her threats.

"How did you do that?" I mutter, turning to him as well.

Our faces nearly touch when I do, and I make sure not to start, lest I trigger the direwolf.

"My blood runs with magic she recognizes," Daemon mutters, violet eyes peering down at me. My breath hitches when his hand brushes to my belly, "I do not doubt Caraxes will recognize the same in yours."

I turn away from him and pull my hand out of his. I then push him away just as Havoc finally ceases her growls altogether and begins to pant.

I release a sigh and turn to my beloved wolf, "good girl," I praise, grabbing her large face.

Daemon chuckles behind me, "you treat her like she is merely an overgrown pup."

"Well, she is," I say, turning over, finding the prince's soft expression, "and yours is an overgrown lizard."

He tilts his head, "I have not met a lizard who breathes fire."

"I wonder why you look any further," I pull away from Havoc to look at the vast chamber, "so, tell me. If not here, where then shall I keep her?"

He shifts on his legs, "your chambers would be large enough, would it not?"

I narrow my brows, "my chambers?"

He chuckles, "well I cannot force it to be our chambers in the face of your beast now, can I?"

I scoff at this and whistle, making Havoc stand.

Daemon does not break eye contact with me as I walk over to him. I move past him though and beckon my wolf to follow, "I appreciate your candor, prince husband. Perhaps I shall not commit treason after all."

[infinityinakiss]

avatrice au fic recommendations:

i don't think there is a single avatrice au fic that i haven't read so here are some my favorites. i tried to find ones that weren't as popular, so hopefully there are couple here you haven't read.

I want to believe by puppybusby @yashastrongarms - x files au - basically 23k of avatrice flirting while being incredibly reckless with alien shit. unfortunately, it is only a one shot that doesn't delve into their relationship, but it is so worth it. and the tension. woof.

Truly a Steadfast Love by StoicLastStand - medieval au - they have a whole series of ficlets, but this is one of my favorites. there's a tournament to win ava's hand in marriage, ava goes undercover to fight for her freedom, but she ends up falling for the very knight who everybody wants to win. i also love their lucifer au, Greater Sacrifices.

a lover, or something of mine by Smokestarrules - reincarnation au - each chapter is a different life with a different story, and i promise you, if you have anything that even resembles a heart, you will cry. i keep going back and rereading chapter 4 because apparently i love to hurt myself. i also love the world is just illusion (trying to change you) by them, it's a road trip au.

i should love you (and i swear i do) by Noteveryonefitsintothebadbitchgenre - harry potter au (fuck jk rowling) - its that trope where they're married and they talk about each other constantly but nobody actually knows they're married. their students all think that professor silva and professor young have a friendly rivalry, but there are a couple of moments that don't add up.

purple by sxftmelody - hitman au - technically, but really it's just sad, i always cry at the end. beatrice helps ava run away after a job, and slowly they open themselves up and start to fall in love. tw: major character death. also love turning page by the same author, mercenary/princess au.

in our corner of the world by definitelynotthere - roommate au - i know, i know, there's a thousand roommate aus, why would i recommend a fic that isn't even finished and will probably never get finished? i don't know, i just really love this one, and if you're like me, you'll go "ooh, two cakes" and read it anyway.

The last hero of Ogygia by jessnope - percy jackson au - specifically calypso au, ava is calypso and beatrice is the flirty hunter that washed up on her shore. it's super cute.

stay there, 'cause i'll be coming over (while our blood's still young) by britishngay - spiderman au - ava's character voice is actually designed to be spiderman, and bea is the perfect doctor lady that patches spidey up when she gets hurt. plus beatrice telling lilith to "shut up and sit down" will never not be iconic.

sunday people (sunday shines for you) by gilligankane @piratekane - another roommates au - jealous ava is back again and out for blood, specifically jenn-with-two-ns blood.

this is my prayer (I'm in love with you) by nyxtyka - my best friend's wedding/spies au - i'll be honest, this fic went to my marked for laters to die. i don't know if it'll ever be finished, but it is one of my favorite aus, i promise it'll be worth the pain.

spellbound by onomofication - witch au - beatrice is the witch in the woods that ava goes to to finally find a way to explore the world like she has always wanted to. but as she gets to know the surprisingly kind, serious, kinda-sorta witch, she discovers that maybe the world was smaller than she had once imagined. i also love another fic by this author, hit me with you best shot, which is basically a cupid au, where ava runs around trying to stop jc, a cupid, from shooting the love of her life, beatrice.

the celestial glow is blinding by understreetlights - firewatch au - did i think ava and beatrice sitting around, looking at trees, and falling love with each other through walkie talkies was going to be interesting? no, but the world loves to prove me wrong.

too cold, it's withdrawal by KatieQgle - captain america au - give this one a chance, even if you don't like marvel. beatrice is hot as fuck as bucky and honestly the winter soldier plot line needed a little sapphic yearning. come on, avatrice in the army in the 1940s, being badass and fighting nazis together? who wouldn't love that?

i have a ton more, reach out if you want them!

[fanbynature]

A post from Dani Howe, who recently left smosh after working in the marketing team

"From Pet to Threat" - This just happened to me AGAIN and after 10+ years in this biz, I’m sick of having to get over it in silence for fear of being blacklisted, or labeled as “difficult to work with” because I chose to be open about my working experience. I won’t go into details, as this isn’t meant to be that kind of post, but I want to share this research because the “Pet to Threat" phenomena keeps happening to me and so many of my peers, particularly over the last few years here in LA. It’s truly an abusive cycle that repeats for far too many people in the workplace, but especially and aggressively for Black women in the entertainment/media industry. So many of us work extremely hard from a place of love, peace and genuine passion for our crafts. We choose to put our prowess out there, hoping that it’ll be reciprocated with that same authenticity by our leadership/mentors/peers, only to be undermined and vehemently devalued in favor of this insistence for power and control at every turn. I’ll never understand the need to prioritize pettiness & ego over doing the right thing for another team member or putting the best, most collaborative work out there for your company. What’s the point of hiring an expert or someone with big potential, just to diminish them? I'm tired of entering spaces I was promised were full of golden potential and stability, only to have to abruptly leave that space a short while later, lest endure unsafe + toxic working dynamics if I choose to brave it. The feelings of shame, guilt and confusion that come after are all too familiar, and yet they never get any easier to deal with. Constantly being in an anxious place of trying to figure out what went wrong and changing my approach, while the world you left couldn’t even be bothered to think twice about you, feels like a losing game. Why even play anymore? I'm only left jobless with no prospects, broke, and burdened with heavy feelings of sadness that I feel really dumb for having. Because it’s just a job, right? And the house always wins.

Some of you might question why even share all of this. Well, I fully believe transparency is one of the best ways to educate and inspire those around you. By sharing this article and a bit about my experience, I hope others feel encouraged to choose themselves and stop letting lazy business practices suppress their potential. I have no idea what’s next for me - this post has probably tanked any chance of me continuing a career in entertainment marketing. But what I do know is that I’m not accepting being overlooked anymore. Not having my true potential nurtured or recognized because the mentors I believed in would rather act out of insecurity than help me thrive is total BS. I deserve better than that, and so do you. I hope today is the day you know your worth."

Im interested in who are they going to blame now. It was once Defy - but now that it's in the hands of the original creators and owners - the same mistakes seem to be popping up. Hmmm

Also if fans start villanizing her the way they did with Boze and Saige - 👊👊👊 i will find you and i will punch u in the fucking face

[alex69rockwell]

Uhmm yeah.....Last year I saw Grunge playlists of @arayashikiii and @upon-lavender-hills (whom I certainly want to thank for inspiring me to create this) and I've been thinking about creating my own ever since, BUT! I must warn you'all that there are quite a lot of dubious songs that I associate with "So much to say" fanfiction, there are also a few songs that are suitable only for Runge or only for Grimmer. Below I will mark who and which song belongs to!!!

GRUNGE

• Nonpareil of Favor - of Montreal

"My lover, I've been donating

Time to review

All the misinterpretations

That define me and you

I'm thinking about you

In my secret language

Because I know you're the only one

Who can help me take it easy

------------

It's like you were always there

Just on the tip of my tongue

And I needed you to happen, yeah

And now that you've happened

And it really, really, really came true

I feel like I ought to thank somebody

So I'm gonna thank you, thank you

Thank you, thank you

Thank you, thank you"

• Motion Sickness - Phoebe Bridgers

"I hate you for what you did

And I miss you like a little kid

I faked it every time, but that's alright

I can hardly feel anything, I hardly feel anything at all

You gave me fifteen hundred to see your hypnotherapist

I only went one time, you let it slide

Fell on hard times a year ago

Was hoping you would let it go and you did

I have emotional motion sickness

Somebody roll the windows down

There are no words in the English language

I could scream to drown you out

I'm on the outside lookin' through

You're throwin' rocks around your room

And while you're bleeding on your back in the glass

I'll be glad that I made it out

And sorry that it all went down like it did"

• Strfkr - Rawnald Gregory

"All my life, there you go

Oh please stay, just this once

Anyway

All my life, there they go

Oh please stay, for the night

Anyway

All my life, there you go

Oh please stay, just this once

Anyway

All my life, there they go

Oh please stay, for the night

Anyway"

• Stars - Your Ex-Lover is Dead

"God, that was strange to see you again

Introduced by a friend of a friend

Smiled and said, "Yes, I think we've met before"

In that instant it started to pour

-----------

It's nothing but time and a face that you lose

I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose

I'll write you a postcard

I'll send you the news

From the house down the road from real love

------------

There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave

You were what I wanted

I gave what I gave

I'm not sorry I met you

I'm not sorry it's over

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

I'm not sorry there's nothing to save"

• Connor spiotto - The villain I appear to be

(I just REALLY love this song, I think it's silly and match Grunge so well)

"Sometimes when I

Wanna run away and hide

When there's no one on my side

And all my pride had disappeared

I take it off my mind

And leave it all behind

Nothin' left to do but

Try to take the leap and follow through

And that's exactly what I'll do

I know to you I don't seem very strong

But, I assure you, before you can find me, I'm gone

So come on and catch me; you've still got a chance

But not for long

I'll be rollin' place to place

Won't stop till I win the race

Although I may have crossed the line

No time to waste on you

I don't plan on slowing

Down; no, I'll keep on going

Even if you think I'm in the wrong

Just know that

Although I may not think everything through

I don't take back what I say or regret what I do

I know that some stay in line and they stick to the plan

But if you leave it to me, I'll do whatever I can 'cause

I know that's what I'm here for

I don't wanna wait around anymore

Even if you can't see

The good inside me

I don't have the time to tell you

Why I do the things that I do

Just please hold on and soon you'll see

That I'm not the villain I appear to be

Movin' along; no, I won't settle down

Until I'm locked behind bars or I'm kicked outta town

So you can keep on a-runnin' around and around

But you will never quite catch up to me!

And I know you think I'm crazy

But I hope that maybe

Now you'll see why

I had to try!"

• Max Raabe - Ein Tag wie Gold

(This song is also just silly and gorgeous ,BUT IT'S IN GERMAN!!! and I also just think it fits them, sssooooo!!!!!)

"Ein Tag wie Gold

In den Adern hunderttausend Volt

Eine Nacht, wie Samt und Seide

Ein Tag wie Gold

Ihr habt doch alles, was ihr wollt

Eine Nacht, schöner kann es nicht sein

Zwei Schritt' nach links

Zwei zurück, dann nach vorn

Jetzt oder nie

Wir sind zum Tanzen geboren

Alles bebt, alles lebt

Hak dich ein

Kann es sein, dass wir verrückt sind?

Ein Tag wie Gold

In den Adern hunderttausend Volt

Eine Nacht, wie Samt und Seide

Leben, ist es nur ein Traum?

Schön wär's, ich glaube kaum

Dass es wahr ist

Pass auf, weil man sehr leicht vergisst

Nichts bleibt, wie es ist

Ohhh

Grüße nach Moskau, Paris, und nach Wien

Wir winken euch zu

Alles kommt nach Berlin

Alles schrill, jeder will, allen war immer klar, dass wir verrückt sind

Ein Tag wie Gold

Was übrig bleibt, das wird verzollt

Ein Schimmern

Denn was kümmern mich Bilanzen

Lass uns Tanzen!"

• Tally Hall - Hidden in the Sand

"

-------------

When you had to bid adieu (ooh, ooh, ooh)

Said you'd never love anew (ooh, ooh, ooh)

I wondered if I could hold it

And fall in love with it too

You told me to buy a pony

But all I wanted was you

-------------

"

• They Might Be Giants - Too Tall Girl

( Silliness kicked in )

"Fall in love with a too-tall girl

Deleterious and delerious

Fall in love with a too-tall girl

With her magazine

Dressed in aubergine

Too-tall girl can see

Past the rooftops and the trees

Too-tall girl can see

Past the crosstown mall and towny sprawl"

And now, it's only Runge

• Lemon Demon - I Earn My Life

"I'll quit my job the day I die

I'll quit my job the day I die

I break my back and never cry

I break my back and never cry

I'm losing all my hair, losing all my hair

I'm losing all my hair because a man provides

I'm standing on a chair, standing on a chair

I'm standing on a chair because I earn my life

I earn my life, I earn my life

I learned it from my father and tell it to my wife

Jesus Christ, don't tell me not to hurry

I wouldn't be so worried if I wasn't always right

While you're asleep I'm terrified

While you're asleep I'm terrified

I see the end before my eyes

I see the end before my eyes

A marker on a grave, marker on a grave

Marker on a grave and I know I'm the one who died

And underneath the name, underneath the name

Underneath my name it says, "He Earned His Life"

I earn my life, I earn my life

I learned it from my father my father never lied

Jesus Christ, better learn how to forage

Utilities and mortgage are all that will survive"

Only Grimmer

• That Handsome Devil - Charlie's Inferno

"You can run from your demons until you are exhausted

One day, you will have to stop and find out what they wanted

Keep on running from those demons 'til you are exhausted

You can run to those angels until you are exhausted

One day, you will have to stop and question what they wanted

Keep on running to those angels 'til you are exhausted

"Excuse me, sir! (I don't)

There must be someone you've confused me for (want to)

If I could see someone who knew me or someone in uniform (die)

I really don't belong here (please don't)

I know you've heard the tune before! (Let me die)"

[petrichor-idyllic]

MINHO HEADCANONS

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

Request is for @daenyraa

Since your request was pretty vague, I've decided to do a list of Headcanons about what it would be like to be in a relationship with Minho whilst in the Glade. I hope that this is what you wanted, but if not, I'm more than willing to do another request with more of a story based structure :)

SUMMARY: Minho × fem!girlfriend!reader. Just Headcanons.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, kinda smut/spice content further down, so skip if that makes you uncomfortable.

Dating Minho isn't for the faint of heart. Truly- it's a stressful endeavour.

He's always out in the Maze, risking his life to try and protect you and everyone else that lives in the Glade. But, boy, does that make it stressful.

You always wait for him at the Doors, waiting patiently (impatiently) for your loving boyfriend to return.

And if he's even the slightest bit late? All hell breaks loose.

"You're late! Again!"

"By what? Thirty seconds?"

Obviously, you only act like this because you care about him so much. He sees it, and he understands why. Sometimes, he'll linger around the final corner of the Maze just a little bit just to see your reaction.

Minho likes to see that someone cares. Most of the Gladers are completely used to it, but no matter how long you'd been there, the thought of him not coming back stresses you out. You know he's the best, but the thought still eats you alive.

Minho never pushes it too far; he just wants to see that you care not give you a panic attack.

He'll always give you a kiss as he enters the Glade, but after lagging behind a little bit, you're always more forceful and needy- another reason he slows down.

The problem with Minho being the best is that he also knows he's the best. The boy definitely has a cocky streak. Sure, to outsiders, he seems cold and collected. His brow is almost always furrowed, and it's a rarity if you convince him to join in with Bonfire night. But when you know him, you know what he's like. Sarcastic and quick-witted. He's willing to argue with anyone (especially Gally) just for the sake of winning.

The main thing he argues about is, well, you.

More like defends.

Being the one girl in a place as chaotic and testosterone driven as the Glade means that Minho, along with a couple of other friendly faces, are constantly keeping an eye on you. If Minho is out in the Maze, Newt or Alby are always close by, per your boyfriend's request.

But that doesn't stop some people.

Minho has gotten in numerous scraps and shouting matches to defend you. He knows you can defend yourself, but you're hit girlfriend- of course he's going to protect you.

He's overprotective. Something you probably shouldn't find attractive, but you do.

One of these outbursts was the first time he told you he loved you. Clint and Jeff had left you to patch up his bloody nose, not wanting to deal with anymore of Minho's bullshit, and he just kind of said it. Out of nowhere.

"Seriously, dude? You got hit shuckin' hard."

"I love you."

"...What?"

"I love you- I- I think I'm in love with you."

Minho's surprisingly into PDA. Not all of the time, and not too much, and it's definitely more of a cautious possessive thing than just being cute, but you don't mind. He normally stands behind you, hands on your waist. His grip is firm but not forceful and he loves it when you lean back into him, staring up at him with doe eyes. He melts like butter when you look at him like that.

Though, it's not like you're all over each other. You respect the other Gladers boundaries and don't want to make them uncomfortable, so your more heated interactions remain behind closed doors.

That being said, he is known to steal kisses or nip at your neck mid-conversation with someone else. You know, just to make sure they don't get the wrong idea.

You would always make an effort to spend time together. With Minho barely being in the Glade, dinners and evening times are by far the most precious. Once Minho is finished with his maps, he'll eat with you, then you'll both join in on the nights festivities. And by that I mean, you join in and he watches. Then you'll go to bed together.

You had moved into Minho's hut the second you started dating. It's world's better than sleeping in that gross old hammock.

He'd often joke you're with him for his bed.

Sleeping in Minho's arms was probably the highlight of your day. He was always gone when you woke up and the empty hut always put a dampener on your morning, but it wasn't so bad because you knew you'd fall asleep with him again that night.

His strong arms always swallowed you. You wouldn't be shocked if they crush you one day. Not that you'd complain- it would be a decent way to die.

Minho sleeps easily, often meaning you're awake later than he is. You spend the time tracing his skin with your finger, brushing over his lips and admiring his features. He sure is pretty.

Little do you know, that he does the exact same thing to you during his early rises.

Minho is shockingly easy flustered. You'd think for a guy of his skill and reputation that he'd be more receptive to someone matching his energy. But, no. He flirts with you day in, day out- that's nothing new. But you mainly roll your eyes or swat him away, but when you reciprocate, he ends up being the blushing mess.

"That shirt looks great on you- you almost look good enough to eat."

"Is that a suggestion? Be my guest."

"..."

Alright, smut time. I know why y'all are here. It's more spice than smut but still. Though, leave now if this makes you uncomfortable.

You and Minho actually didn't have sex for a long time. It wasn't that you didn't want to or think about it, and things definitely weren't made easier when you spent every night sleeping next to the shirtless God of a man. But Minho seemed reluctant.

It wasn't that you'd not done anything. You'd spent plenty of hours making out and grasping at one another, desperately trying to close the distance between you. But the second it went further- it would stop. You'd buck your hips against him, slide your hand down his abs, try to palm his crotch- anything. And he'd pull away. Obviously, that was your cue to stop as well, and you did.

It always turned sweet after that. Delicate kisses and laying in bed with your face buried in his chest, listening to his heartbeat. But you wanted more.

You heard the boys talking about it a lot. They always think they're so subtle, but they're really not. They'd always ask Minho questions like, "What's she like in bed?" "How hot is she, really?" "Is she good at (insert any inappropriate action here)?"

Minho never answered. If he did, he'd tell them to shuck off and mind their own business. But, in reality, there wasn't much to tell.

It caused all kinds of insecurities to come to the surface. Did he not find you attractive? Were you just a trophy? That he'd got the girl and no one else could?

He noticed your distance attitude fairly fast but got little to no answer out of you. So one night you were just laying in bed, back away from each other and you just decided to ask.

"Why won't you have sex with me?"

You'd never seen Minho so speechless before and you don't think you have since.

"Are you not attracted to me?"

"What? No? I mean, yes. I am attracted to you."

"Then why don't you act like it?"

Minho had to explain that he does, indeed, find you attractive. And that your little make-out sessions and flustered interactions get him riled up. Too much. He's scared that you'll think he only wants your for your body; that sex is all he wants you for but that isn't it.

He knows you spend half your time in the Glade listening to how horny teenage boys think women should be treated and what they think women like. But Minho didn't want to be like that.

He obviously didn't make a good move by brushing off your desires, but he was too worried about crossing boundaries to think about that.

It was an awkward conversation, but a necessary one. And things picked up a bit after that.

"So, do you want to fuck now, or what? Because I'm telling you I want to."

"Yes. Please."

Obviously, you were both bumbling virgins with little to no knowledge about the others anatomy. But somehow, that just made it more fun. The learning part was huge at the start. Figuring out what the other wanted whilst learning what you wanted too.

It was all new and daring and exciting.

It was also a lot of watching one another touch themselves. Something that completely flustered you and entertained Minho.

He learnt fast, just like he does everything. He learnt the perfect way to curl his fingers, the pace, the way to move his tongue- all exactly how you liked it to turn you into a trembling, stuttering mess in his arms.

You had a lot of insecurities. You didn't like your chest or your hips, and being under Minho's lustful gaze just made you more insecure. He didn't care. He thinks you're gorgeous. And he'd tell you that every single time you were even slightly vulnerable in front of him. Or even when you weren't. The man loves you, okay? Let him have this.

Minho's huge on consent. Massive on it. You show any tiny little sign of being even remotely uncomfortable, and he'd stop dead in his tracks. There's no way he'd risk making you upset just because he was turned on.

You found it sweet, but then slightly frustrating as you wanted more. He'd be so gentle and loving all of the time (and, yes, you love that too), but you'd wanted him to dare to be darker, rougher, even. You weren't gonna break in two if he used a little force.

You told him about this, and he seemed awkward, so you dropped it. Only to be slammed into the wall of your shared hut a couple of days later after a particularly bad day in the Maze. That was one of the first times of many that Minho would take his pent-up frustrations out on you.

With your permission, of course.

Minho's a switch through and through. It depends on how his day's been, but sometimes he's dominating and forward, knowing exactly what he wants and how to get it. And other days, he just wants to be taken care of.

He's not exactly loud in the bedroom, but he is vocal. He mainly grunts and provides heated words and praises. There are lines he won't cross though- sorry guys, he's not going to insult you, no matter how into it you are.

Though, he is into marking. He learnt pretty fast that he doesn't have to always be around with his hands on your waist if there's soft bruises staining your neck and collarbone.

Minho's also big on aftercare, probably because of his previous fears.

Overall, Minho would be a great boyfriend, and I stand by that. I mean, have you seen this man? He's willing to do anything for people he cares for.

Yo, so here is my first request. The fact I'm even getting requests is kinda mad, but thank you :))

I'm really not sure where I was going with this since it was just a relationship prompt. I don't think it's as long as my other post but I tried my best lol. Lemme know what y'all think :))

[sokkastyles]

I read that post you reblogged about Katara using bloodbending to heal Zuko during the final Agni Kai, and honestly I would have loved it if that happened too. I've mentioned before in a previous ask that I wish bloodbending had been explored more in the narrative, especially Katara's complicated feelings about bloodbending. This is going to sound a bit morbid, but I'm kind of wondering if, after the encounter with Hama, do you think Katara would be kind of hyperaware of the water flowing throughout her own body or anyone else's? Would she feel tempted to try bloodbending again? Even though the first time she had to do so was to prevent Aang and Sokka from hurting each other, so she bloodbent Hama, and she found the whole thing disturbing, there's a part of me that wonders if Katara would still have a bit of morbid curiosity about bloodbending anyways. I know this sounds like I want Katara's character to be a bit darker, but what I really want is for Katara to be allowed to have these thoughts or this type of curiosity without her being made to feel like she's a bad person for it. Idk if any of this made that much sense, but I'm curious to know, what are your thoughts?

Katara unconsciously being hyper aware of the water around her and in other people's bodies after Hama is something that has made itself into my fics. Because bending is depicted in atla as part of who the person is, and I think keeping a bender from bending is like keeping someone from being allowed to move their arms and legs.

And once Katara knows this ability exists, not just bloodbending but everything Hama taught her that goes with it, like how to find the water in everything, she will find it impossible to not have this completely alter her bending and how she sees the world.

And, like with firebending, it's not the bending itself that is bad, it's what you do with it.

I love zutara fics that include bloodbending, not just the dark ones, but something I've explored a little in my fics is how it makes her more aware of Zuko's body and heightens her physical connection with him.

Bloodbending can work as a metaphor for consent, because it's not that it's inherently evil to have that kind of knowledge of another person's body, but it's about consent and trust. I see no reason why bloodbending can't be used to heal the same way that medical knowledge can be used both to heal or to kill and torture. (I'm thinking of that particular analogy because I'm reading Gene Wolfe's Shadow of the Torturer currently).

Like, I get that the show writers were trying to add complexity by showing the dark side of waterbending with Hama, but the thing is that while waterbending was always portrayed as good before, it was also portrayed in a very limited way. Katara is the last waterbender of her tribe, who had to learn on her own. "Some waterbending is bad, actually," isn't really a lesson she needed to learn, especially not from the only teacher she's ever had who can actually tell her about her own heritage. The unintended message is that Katara exploring a culture heritage that has been denied to her through war is bad, and it actually ends up limiting things instead of making them more complex. It's also another weird way the show dichotomizes combat waterbending and healing. Despite Katara gaining Pakku's respect, she is still getting the message from things like the Hama episode that using her bending for combat and not healing is wrong. The obvious solution is to make waterbending healing a form of bloodbending, and now that Netflix has made healing an actual learned bending form instead of something Katara is naturally good at, I have hope that this connection might actually be made. And this is a win win, because making healing a form of bloodbending actually achieves the complexity the original show was going for.

[mylittleredgirl]

m*a*s*h reaction post released from my drafts!! i don't know why i have been worried about making a Good Post when legitimately everything that could ever be said about this show has been said.

so i will SHARE MY THOUGHTS ABOUT SEASON THREE currently in progress:

ooooh war got a sweet budget increase in the off-season. pyrotechnics! helicopters! ACTIONNN BAYBEEEE

i'm falling more in love with everyone, details to follow

top of the list: trapper my bestie has been promoted to trapper my legit fictional crush 💕

don't get me wrong, in real life i would slap his face, but i'm with hot lips on this one. the hair, the smile, every time he takes off his shirt... take me to the supply tent or lose me forever

HOWEVER, i happened to notice that he is not on the header pic on hulu* and none of you talk about him so i must regretfully conclude that he will eventually leave the show

DON'T TELL ME WHEN

anyway i am cherishing him as one cherishes an old dog not long for this world

*speaking of hulu: i have now joined the henry blake appreciation society thanks to this One Weird Trick (reupping my hulu account for a month because i lost my shit after the dvds cut out at the climax of an episode AGAIN)

i went back to rewatch the episodes that didn't play on the dvds, and turns out a lot of them were henry eps (including the trial of henry blake and the one where he is waiting for news about his new baby...) (and also the one where he fell in love with a cheerleader but you can’t win ‘em all)

just in time to appreciate that scene in "o.r." where he tells hawkeye he doesn't want to be discharged so that he can keep doing real doctoring 🥺

"o.r." had so many good character bits!! even frank got some depth?? or at least an explanation for why he's Like That...

other eps i liked:

"iron guts kelly" -- felt like a follow-up to the one last season where hot lips got wasted and broke up with frank and then hawkeye and trapper had to sober her up, which i also loved! "we hate her but she's OURS to hate" is such a good character dynamic.

also lmao every time she cheats on frank, GET YOURS GIRL 😘

the frank/margaret thing is strangely compelling actually? it's like an inverse ship for real. will-they-or-won't-they but for breaking up. same energy though, like i'm glued to the screen rooting for them to fight instead of kiss.

"check-up" i was sooooo brave you guys making peace with the situation BUT THEN TRAPPER STAYED!!! i feel like my crush has been given a stay of execution

i don't know if i ship it per se but i really hope he and margaret hook up exactly once and literally everyone regrets it

i've seen some more episodes and have more thoughts but i need to lie down a lot first

oh one more thing:

i realize "m*a*s*h actors amazing" is not breaking news, but i'm specifically obsessed right now with how they are always interacting with props. i don't even mean the o.r. tools or scripted things, but how in every scene they're doing comedy while also moving crap around, pouring things, drinking, shaving, changing clothes, handing (or THROWING) things to each other, just making a mess all the time while still hitting their lines and comic beats. it's a master class in whatever that is.

anyway it's so good!!! more to come 💕

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for repeatedly losing my temper at my kinda-friend? I (17F) have anger issues and I'm working on mitigating it, however, losing my temper always involves yelling and insulting people. Usually I think this is bad and apologize profusely when I lose control.

However, this kinda-friend (16F) who I'll call E, has absolutely no respect for other people's personal belongings, space, or time. She always grabs and plays with my things during class, or our mutual friend's items (16F), and as all three of us are artists, we carry around pretty expensive equipment. (Think Micron ink pens, Winsor & Newton paint, Derwent pencils, etc., just as reference. Thankfully no Copics lmao.)

The mutual friend will be referred to as J.

So, E has been told by both of us to stop taking our art supplies and playing with it, to the point where I'll yell sometimes, and she absolutely refuses to listen to us. She'll claim that she's forgotten what we've told her and put down the item just for her to pick it up again five seconds later. The problem is that she sometimes breaks these items or injures us - she'll play with my x-acto blade and cut me, or break J's graphite pencils, or push my watercolor palette off the desk. I've really tried to be patient about it, but it's proving to be difficult.

J is quite soft spoken, so I end up doing most of the reprimanding. E also brings up inappropriate topics that make J and I uncomfortable, as well as disturbing us when we're busy and then sulking when she doesn't get our immediate attention - once I told her three times to let me do my classwork before snapping, and E cried. She never does anything in school and hates all of our teachers, so she's pretty rude to them. All my work gets copied by her. She really annoys me, but I do feel terrible that I seem to lose control so often around E, since no one deserves to be yelled at.

However, this all came to a peak today when R (16M) and I won prizes for winning a mini-game and asking an interesting question during a seminar at school respectively; the gift was a black notebook that I didn't even like, which is an important tidbit to keep in mind. R left his gift still wrapped in his bag when he left the classroom for break time, so it was just J, E, and myself in there. Upon seeing what I had unwrapped, E went to R's bag and opened it - since all four of us are friends, we thought E was just being "jokingly" invasive as usual and were on alert, but didn't stop her.

J asked what she was doing and E said she was grabbing the gift out of R's bag. This caught my attention, so I asked why she was doing that. E told us that she wanted the book, and when J reminded her that the gift was, in fact, not hers, E said (and I wish I was kidding because this is replaying in my head in 4K HD right now like oh my god pls) "I know. It should be mine." Had she asked for my notebook, I would've given it up happily. I've got too many empty sketchbooks and notebooks at home.

I immediately stood up, but allowed J to handle the situation because I didn't trust myself not to react violently. J eventually lost her temper too and that's when I jumped in and started my yelling routine. I always feel bad whenever I do this, because it's not something I enjoy, but in this particular situation I just can't muster up the guilt? E is extremely irritating, but she tells us she has a horrible home life, so I try to be understanding. Except this was just completely intolerable. R even said that he'd predicted this would happen and to just give her the damn notebook - I vetoed that so we wouldn't enable E.

I really don't know if my reaction was overblown because I shouted a lot and said things like "you were given a brain - use it" and "you're a terrible person with no morals". It's ridiculous to say all that because it's (at the end of the day) high school drama, but I really can't understand why she acted that way. I don't know if I'm in the wrong in this situation. I wish she would listen when we tell her nicely not to do something, but even when I was blowing up at her, she was just smiling as if it was a joke. Should I apologize? I've apologized before when I lost my temper, but I have completely lost all will to be civil with her after this. The teachers are tired too - when she disappears from class or talks back, they just let her be. We can't really go to them because she'll feel betrayed and then get mad at us, which is a whole ordeal, because she's known to destroy and sabotage other people's items because of a grudge.

This is really lengthy. I apologize. I just feel terrible about the situation because I don't feel any guilt for my anger like I probably should. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe Colors Ep. 9

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here. Also, I know way more than I intended because of comments and reblogs on previous posts, so I'm in the know now.

A Black Brooder and a (once fake) Blue Boy sit in a car probably declaring for the millionth time that they love each other while MY RED RASCAL IS STILL BEING HELD HOSTAGE!

Charlie and the Omegaverse Factory (except Jeffrey WHO IS STILL MISSING!)

"Don't be suspicious. Don't be suspicious."

This came up earlier but do they all live together and I missed that somewhere? They all have different houses, so why is Charles putting his hands on Alan now? Did he trick them to all live together so he can steal their powers easier? Does Alan even have powers? Do Northwest Kardashian and Sonic Drive-In have powers? So many questions! Don't tell me the answers. The chaos and confusion adds to the fun.

Why are you back at the reds alone, Barbara?!

Pete is a GOOD MAN. This situation looks gross as fuck, but he is wearing blue, so I already know my man is there for good reasons.

The truth is being revealed. They are in the light instead of the dark, and the blue is backing my man, so as the colors stated: Pete is a GOOD MAN! How? I don't know, but the colors don't lie.

Record scratch! Where did the red go?! That was the same way Barbara entered the reds house, and now the red is gone. *whispers* It's because Waymond is the red like episode three told us.

Whatever Waymond is saying is a lie. The red is surrounding Barbie! It's still there! YOU AREN'T SAFE, BARBIE!

BARBIE!

Waymond Brutus Fitzgerald, you don't have to do this. The blue is *right there* ho-migo. You can be a good guy. You don't have to be a red. Oh, God, no. WAYMOND, NO!

Nah. You had a choice, Waymond. You could have been blue like Pete, lying Charles, and (still-kidnapped?) Jeffery, but you picked this bullshit. I'm so mad at you. You don't deserve Peter. And Kimberly is the only red I respect.

We finally got a light (white-colored) Barbie, but at what cost?

Kentana, let me recap your fuck ups: you captured Jeffrey, you watched Kimberly get beat up, you conspired with Decanus to mess up Barbie's car, and now you are just standing there. I support queer wrongs, but you have yet to prove the "queer" part which is super important, so right now, you are just WRONG, and I can't support that. Kiss a man or sacrifice yourself because you are pissing me all the way off.

Northwest and Sonita are wearing more blue, but what the hell is up with that red around your neck Northwest?! I canNOT trust these two.

Nice to know your time being held hostage by the reds convinced you to commit to the blue, Jeffrey. By fucking time, sir.

Oh, Jeffrey seeing thangs! Decanus is bad. We been knowing that. But is that . . . Alan on the floor?! It has to be since the visions came after Jeffrey touched Alan. Oh no no. Wait, is that BARBIE?! They are the only two who wear tanks!

Kentana better be finally committing QUEER wrongs.

Nothing is going to happen to Charles. Color-coded boys in love get happy endings. But this was bound to happen once Barbara took off his glasses. Accidents happen when people who need glasses don't wear them. Next.

Jeffrey, why are you at the kids table? Are you turning bad. AGAIN!

Who is holding the gun? Does Big Red have a bracelet like that? Why do y'all keep walking back into this damn house like y'all won't die! *whispers* because they won't

Big Red uses swords not guns?

I know it was Way being punched by Barbie earlier, but is this Whiny Winifred?! Let that be a win for us! Because that better not be Kimberly. It. Better. Not. Be. But secret third option: Waymond since he has been the red in hiding.

The red is still around you two newly-reformed Blue Boys. The danger is always there.

Wait! Jeffrey! No! You committed to the blue! Is this why you were surrounded by red?! You were going to go back! WHY?! ALAN LOVES YOU!

Vegas' Hedgehog, why are you wearing orange?! Is your superpower to annoy me? At least Northwest loves you. Are y'all discussing Jeffrey going back to Big Red?! Nah. Alan is too calm. AND DECANUS IS THERE?! I thought he left the team after that race?! Jeffrey will not be pleased with this hug unless Jeffrey really is back to being red. Wait! Is Dean back because Jeffrey told Big Red to send him back! Urgh! For everyone to be a secret red, y'all trust way too many folks. I hate when the plot isn't plotting the way I thought it was plotted.

Even the product placement must fit into the blue vs. red theme. Good!

SONIC, YOU MOTHERF*CKER! I SWEAR TO GOD!

Oh! Charles' spidey sense is tingling. Does that mean danger is near? No! It means you two are going to have sex. AGAIN! Kimberly is dying, but continue with your light vs. dark dynamic. Glad to see you back to your dark ways, Barbara.

Well, at least Whiny Winifred has one win under his belt for the reds before he (hopefully) bleeds red aka DIES!

I hit my picture limit, but next week, Dean is bad (Pikachu face), Waymond gets his ass beat, as he should, and the show is really trying to make us believe Barbara or Charles are going to get into a serious crash which AIN'T happening because they have superpowers and are color coded, so . . . they'll be fine. Oh, and Sonic Boom Boom is wearing blue again just to irritate me before he wears coral or some shit, but all I care about is

WHERE IS KIM POSSIBLE?!

When Kimberlina gets free, because he WILL get free, he needs to run so far away from these people. He better not join the blue racing team. They are too busy being fake and having sex. Kimbers, you deserve better than this.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors.

While walking around town on a date with Prince Silvio, I saw a corner bustling with activity.

Silvio: "It's an event where you can enter a raffle based on the total amount you spend shopping."

Emma: "So that's what the ticket I got when I shopped earlier was for?"

Townsman: "The first prize is this one-of-a-kind gorgeous tea set!"

In the center of the crowd, a beautiful, delicately crafted, blue color tea set shone brightly.

(Wow, you can win that in the lottery!?)

Emma: "Prince Silvio, can I try?"

Silvio: "You look like you're having a lot of fun with this lottery. Go on."

Emma: "I'm going to win the first prize!"

I lined up at the back of the crowd, and after a few minutes of waiting, it was finally my turn.

Townsman: "You're next. Go ahead, draw one of these."

(Which one should I choose? This is making me nervous.)

I picked one of the tiny shells from the box offered to me.

Emma: "This one! What's the prize?"

Feeling anxious, I checked the underside of the shell and found the words "8th" written on it.

Townsman: "Ah, too bad! The 8th prize is a participation prize. Here, it's a discount coupon you can use in town."

Emma: "Thank you!"

After the drawing, I rushed over to him.

Emma: "It was a participation prize!"

Silvio: "Getting the first prize is not that easy, you know?"

Emma: "I thought I could win it since you're with me."

Silvio: "You've got a lot of guts to make me your lucky charm."

As a punishment, he roughly tousled my hair.

Silvio: "Do you want to draw again?"

Emma: "No, once is enough."

Silvio: "I thought you wanted it?"

Emma: "Of course I wanted it, but I'm more interested in the thrill of not knowing what I'm going to win."

Silvio: ".........."

Emma: "What's wrong?"

Silvio: "I just thought it was a typical thought from someone who is not materialistic."

Silvio: "Let's move on to the next store."

Emma: "Got it! Thanks for sticking with me."

Emma: "Then, let's go to..."

I spread out the map I had marked and returned to our date.

A few days later, he came to my room carrying something mysterious.

Emma: "What's that expensive-looking box?"

The excessively decorated box made it difficult to gauge its purpose just by looking at it.

Silvio: "It's a raffle. You drew it the other day, right?"

Silvio: "I thought maybe I could come up with some clever business idea using this. So go along with me."

I couldn't keep up with the sudden turn of events, but the last words reminded me of something.

(Did he make it because I mentioned I enjoy it?)

(But then again, nothing is impossible with this guy.)

I spoke up to cover up my smile.

Emma: "If that's the case, I'm happy to help!"

Seeing him smile with satisfaction made me happy, too.

Silvio: "Drawing alone would be boring, so I've also prepared some prizes."

Emma: "It's not something expensive, is it?"

Silvio: "Ha? It's not like that. You wouldn't accept it even if I prepared it for you."

Silvio: "It's something you're more likely to enjoy."

Emma: "What is it?"

Silvio: "Well... you know, things like roses, sweets... ah, something like that."

(He suddenly started slurring his words. And I feel like he's getting restless.)

(I guess I'll find out if I draw one.)

Silvio: "Tch, forget it! I changed my mind!"

Emma: "What? Why!?"

Emma: "You even prepared prizes, so at least let me draw once."

Silvio: "No. Let's do it next time."

(He's getting so agitated it's making me even more curious!)

(Is there something strange or unusual among the prizes?)

(But if he's not letting me draw even once for that reason, then perhaps the prizes aren't things in the first place.)

(Considering he knows I'm not materialistic, he'd probably choose...)

Emma: "Could it be that the prizes are somehow related to you?"

Emma: "Maybe a coupon to have a drink with you?"

Silvio: ".........."

Emma: "Or like words of love from you."

Silvio: "Hey, I said it's over already!"

(This mix of embarrassment and anger confirms it!)

Emma: "You really know what I want."

(He probably thought hard about it and made it while feeling embarrassed.)

Just the thought of it made me smile. I felt like I might even burst out laughing.

Emma: "Fufu, thank you."

I kissed his cheeks several times to express my joy and gratitude.

Silvio: "You always do things so suddenly..."

Emma: "Well, now that I know what's inside, I'll draw!"

Silvio: "When did you get the box!? Hey, give it back!"

Emma: "Nope!"

(There's no way I'd let go of it now that I know it's a box full of his love.)

I put my hand inside the box while evading Silvio.

Feeling more excited than any other previous time, I carefully selected a single seashell.

[montcumbry-gaytor]

Heya! Do you mind doing soldier x reader x reaper? The plot can be whatever you want.

Also your writings awesome! Keep up the good work

Everlong

Reaper x Reader x Soldier smut

A/N : I am so sorry for taking absolutely forever to write, it takes me a while to even find inspo to write and then to write in general, ntm I was very busy recently 🙏 again I'm very sorry and hope this comes to your liking

FEM ALLIGNED DNI || MLM / NBLM IS TARGET AUDIENCE

CW : Commanders x Private, Threesome, Good boy, Hinting at overstimulation, Double Penetration.

Getting into Overwatch was not easy, To you at least, but others in your field said it was for you, bitterness in their voices.

You had to get used to field work quickly with Overwatch, Not only the stress of it all, but caring for everyone on the team.

And also being called 'rookie' By Commander Morrison and Commander Reyes.

Behind their backs, you would roll your eyes at the name, knowing full well it would stick until you had done something notable, that or had been around more than the few months you had.

Nonetheless, You found friends, Rather— they found you, Lena specifically, Quick to greet you once you were recruited and quicker to get to know you, being a valuable asset on the field she was on a lot of missions.

Needless to say, you got along well, and she was the first person outside of your immediate family to know that you were into men.

Those men being your commanders.

( And oh how she teased you )

"I can see why you'd like Jack, A smooth American criminal but, Reyes? He's so grouchy all the time!"

She said, a sinister grin on her peachy lips.

"Keep it down- You make me regret ever telling you."

"Telling her what, Rookie?"

Soldiers voice slyly hummed out from behind you, when you whipped around to look at him, Reyes was close behind him, Peering down at you with a fierce gaze.

"N-Nothing important, Commander."

You jumbled out, Nervously smiling at them both.

"Yea! It was just a bit of playful banter!"

Lena chimed in, her accent carrying her words, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as Reyes let out a small "Hmph." Behind you.

"Anyways- What was it you needed, Commanders?"

You asked, eyeing them in hopes you didn't do anything wrong, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up.

"You're due for training, Rookie, Figured you'd learn from your Commanders than anyone else."

"Mhm."

Your peers eyed down on you, Reyes' eyebrows furrowed, Intensifying his gaze, though you could swear his lips twitch upward into a smirk for just a second.

"Yes Commanders." You said, your hand flattening and meeting your forehead, Morrison's light chuckle causing your face to flush.

"Meet us in Ten, Got it Rookie?"

Reyes boomed, Prompting you to nod in acknowledgement.

"Good."

And with that your Commanders filed out of the area, Whipping around to eye Lena, Who had a smug grin plastered to her lips.

"Got a date with the Commanders, Aye?"

"Lena!"

You gasped, hands slamming down on the table, Face flushing deeply as she giggled.

"Welp, You better get ready, Pretty yourself up! Bye Y/N!"

She said, Blinking away in a matter of seconds, leaving you to your embarrassment, cursing her in your mind, you stood, rushing to your quarters to get into sparring clothes,

The black snugly fit turtleneck with sleeves that hugged the middle of your forearm slipped over your body, following behind was a grey pair of sweatpants, and your shoes, Jogging out of your quarters as the door shut and locked behind you, Thanks to ATHENA.

You reached the training room in a matter of minutes, As you entered, Your commanders had already been sparring with each other, teetering on who would win as they easily swayed each others attempts.

'I hope it's not them being really hot but their sparring looks really....intimate?'

You thought, eyeing their sweaty bodies counter eachother, Morrison being the first to notice your presence in the room, tapping on Reyes' shoulder to tap out.

"Rookie! Right on time, As I would hope of our new soldier."

Morrison said, walking over to you, Slipping a hand around your shoulders and hooking around your forearm, guiding you to the training mats.

"You'll be sparring Reyes today, Understand?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Good, He won't go easy on you, Remember what we've worked on."

Jack said, winking in your direction as he patted your shoulder, sending you to the mats with Reyes, Who stared expectantly, Arms crossing into themselves.

"This should be fun- You ready, Rookie?"

"Fuck no."

You muttered, Morrison's Light laugh making your ears burn, you felt his eyes burrow into you as you readied yourself.

By the command of Morrison, the sparring began, Reyes jumping to action, Clocking close to your head, Huffing as you blocked it, his opposite hand gripping your wrist and spinning around, the motion making you lightheaded.

He pinned you in a Headlock, Being careful not to choke you, You took action to bend down, your left hand snaking around Reyes' right leg, In swift motion, you bent near backwards, Reyes' Back slamming to the mats with a 'oof' Feeling confidence flutter In your chest as he loudly tapped the mat.

"Nicely done Rookie."

Morrison chuckled, Clapping his hands before kneeling down the grab Reyes off the ground.

"Believe you deserve a reward for your good work."

Morrison's voice hummed close to your ear, your face flushing, you couldn't deny the shiver ran down your spine.

"I-I don't think that's necessary, commander."

You stammered, throwing your hands up in defense, your body stilling as Reyes pressed into your back, breath ghosting your ear.

"You're not as quiet as you think, Private."

He hummed, fingers grazing over the hem of your pants, slipping around to the strings, pulling them tight into your hips, making you gasp.

"I don't understand, Commander-"

"—Glad to know I'm a Ten in your eyes, Rookie."

Morrison hushed you, pressing his hips against yours, His erection prominent through his pants.

"Commanders- I- I dont—"

"Quiet now, Rookie, Don't speak unless spoken to."

Reyes huffed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, leaving light kisses in his wake, His fingers slipping to caress the smooth skin under your boxers.

"Y-Yes Commander."

You muttered, hands shaking as Morrison's calloused fingers slipped between yours, kissing your knuckles with his coral lips.

"You want your reward, Don't you?"

Morrison asked though you could tell what he was trying to say, it made your heart flutter, though you'd never admit it.

"Yes, Commander."

"Jack is fine, Rookie."

"Y-Yes Jack."

You're breathing hitched as Reyes sly hands slipped to palm your length, running his thumb along the veins.

"Ha—ah.. R-Reyes.."

You whined, Stilling has he halted his movements.

"You call me Sir, Private, I'm not as friendly."

"Yes! Yes sir- Please just.. touch me again."

You whimpered, trying desperately to keep your hips still.

"You look cute at the mercy of your superiors, rookie."

Jack hummed, grasping the hem of your shirt and lifting it up over your chest, teasing with your blushed nipples, The pad of his thumb stroking over the nub, His mouth coming to bite and suck on the unoccupied bud.

Precum dribbled from your tip and onto Reyes' hand as he stroked your cock, pace speeding up as you rapidly approached your climax.

"Plea—ase~ fuck! Ha-ah.. "

"Did I give you permission to cum, Private?"

Reyes said, his Gruff voice vibrating in his chest, you could feel it in your back.

"Please- please let me cum— I'll be good."

You stammered, Grasping on Jack's shoulders for stability, cock twitching desperately as Reyes thumb rubbed at your slit.

"Cum for me."

He whispered, and like it was on command, your body shuddered, cum spilling out like a fountain, Face flushing as Jack traveled down to lick your cock clean, Your dick twitching in overstimulation as he did so.

"You were good, but- you haven't had your real reward yet."

Reyes said, licking his fingers clean, using his free hand to grasp the back of your neck and guide you into a kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue.

When he pulled away, a string of saliva followed, leaving you breathless and panting, you all quickly adjusted as Jack laid down on the mat, Reyes guilding you to sit on his thighs.

"I'm gonna need to make sure you can fit us both, Don't need an injured rookie."

Jack explained, stroking your flushed face, A gentle smile curved his lips as you nodded, still dazed from your high, though your glazed eyes cleared quickly, cold, slick digits slipping into you, though it felt like very little, the chill shocked you.

"That was easy, Tell me, Private, Do you fuck yourself thinking of us?"

Reyes hummed out, curving his fingers into that bundle of nerves, prompting a thin gasp from your lips, shivering as his deep lips pressed on your ass and lower back.

"Answer, Rookie, You wouldn't want to keep Gabe waiting."

"..Y-Yes."

You meekly answered, averting your gaze from Jack, head hanging as Reyes mercilessly fucked his fingers into you.

"Careful, Rookie, Stay focused."

Jack said, Cupping your face and forcing you to meet his eyes, though you could see the strain in his eyes as he struggled to keep his composure.

"Please- I'm ready just.. just fuck me- please, sir."

You pleaded, helplessly leaning into Jack's touch, Chest heaving as your body shook with anticipation.

"Jack, Wanna do the honors?"

Reyes said, peeking over your shoulder, leaving a small bite where he had been, Jack nodded, Pushing down his trousers and briefs, His cock slipping out, head grazing just below his bellybutton.

"I'll try not to hurt you."

Jack said, kissing your cheek and leaving your heart spiraling, slowly guiding your hips over his, using his opposite hand to position his cock to slip into you, sighing as you slipped down him with little effort.

"Shit... You feel amazing Rookie."

The little clarity he gave you was interrupted by rough hands gripping you by your waist, wasting no time pushing his thick cock into you, thinning your breaths as you felt your body push limits you didn't know you had.

Tears welled in your eyes as you adjusted to the stretch, Embarrassing you and prompting you to hide your face, keeping yourself up by one shaky arm as you wiped your tear stricken face.

"I know it hurts, it'll all feel good soon I promise." Jack said, petting the top of your head, though you could feel Reyes rut into you every now and then, impatient.

"I'm fine, Please, I can't wait."

You panted, breath hitching as Reyes wasted no time fucking into you by your words, prompting lewd moans to slip from you kiss plumped lips.

"Y-Yes- just like that~ thank you Sir- ah.."

You moaned, your back arched as Reyes pulled your back against his chest, bouncing your hips over Jacks while pounding into you mercilessly, cock easily rutting against your prostate.

"You're being so good for us, Private, Do you feel like a good boy?"

Reyes hummed into your ear, his voice rumbling in his chest accompanied by his low groans, one hand on your hip and the other hugging your thigh, teasing the idea of touching you.

"Yes! Im a good boy, I am~ I swear~"

You mewled, drool spilling out of your mouth as it hung open, your hazy eyes flitting to Jack, who bit the back of his hand, eyebrows furrowed as his pale blue eyes focused on your shaking body.

"Such a good boy for your commanders, Carino."

Reyes said, stroking your twitching length, your body becoming like a furnace as precum spilt out of your head, your climax edging it's time.

"I'm gonna cum~ ah.. please- I wanna cum- I wanna cum please~"

You whined, your words failing you as Reyes and Jack fucked you, their cocks rubbing against eachother inside you, both edging near their end aswell.

"C'mon Carino, Cum for your commanders."

Reyes whispered into your ear, biting your earlobe like a tease, pumping your length and riding you out your orgasm, both Reyes and Jack soon following, pulling out of you, Reyes cumming on your back as Jack came on yours and his lower abdomen, leaving a mess in your wake.

"Fuck-" you said, your legs shuddering as you tried to stand from the collective spillage, failing as you dropped back to the comfortable mats.

"Our good boy can't walk because of us, Jack, Isn't that cute?"

Reyes said slyly, leaving kisses over his hickey's.

"You did good rookie, Let's get you cleaned up though."

Jack said, slipping out of the pile of limbs to help you up and guide you to the showers connected to the training room, Reyes following suit.

This was going to be a rough night.

A/N : CANT BELIEVE I FINALLY FINISHED THIS IM SO HAPPY I DID THO BECAUSE I THINK IT CAME OUT REALLY GREAT!!! I HOPE YALL ENJOYED IT ALL

[michictaa]

🗝️ – IT'S ALWAYS X AND Y, BUT WHY NOT U AND I?

"I'm serious about the word "I love you". If ever you don't think so, love me, because it's only u and i in this world.”

pairing : Wirth Madl x Reader

tags : childhood friends, fluff, more fluff, kissing (idk what else), academic trauma (LMAOOOOO), Wirth having a soft spot for you🫶

wc : 1,084

author’s note; I love him so much so much, I’m just gonna leave this here. I love him (art by @/rrokii42, their art is insanely crunchy!!)

“Checkmate, I win again.” Wirth snickered as you were left speechless, it was the third game of the night, lasting for 30 minutes per chess session. You were left bewildered. “And I wasn’t even taking it seriously, I was already giving clues. Are you really this bad or is it naturally because I’m better than you?,” He boasts once again. “I’m not that bad! It’s just that you have way more experience! Plus are we always just gonna play chess, the night’s still young.” you told him about it. Tilting his head, Wirth asked what exactly were you implying “Well, what do you even want to do?” “I don’t know, you decide.”

You and Wirth have been good friends for a while, simply because of your families having an amazing relationship. He knew all about you. You knew about him. He was always there for you during the times you were down or just couldn’t take it anymore, and so were you for him. People were honestly wondering why you two weren’t dating yet, and you did not know how to answer that question. You liked him so much, it was killing you. But you play it off pretty well, because he didn’t recognize it yet. He seemed so oblivious to you— wrong. He likes you so much. He visits you everyday at your dorm just to play chess with you because he likes your presence and he’ll never forget how your defeated face looks . He thinks it’s cute. He’ll also pretend not to get a math lesson just so you teach him for a few minutes straight because he likes hearing your voice, pulling you with that “I still don’t get it” card so you teach him all about it again so he hears your voice more. He also likes it when you comfort him, a lot. So much that he’ll keep his tears out of sight and once he’s with you— he starts crying. Because it was what he was used to growing up with you.

So it was safe to say that you both are oblivious to each other— not knowing what you two truly felt together. Wirth ultimately loves you, and so do you. But… You always sought ways for him to “like you back”. From anonymous letters, to sending him corny math jokes, bringing him lunch, showing your forbidden collection. It was already clear. A few days ago, Wirth read one of the jokes written on a piece of paper saying, “It’s always x and y, why not u and i?” Wirth was about to burst out laughing from what he just read till you ran at him like a mad gremlin, “Gimme that!” you snatched the paper from him as he burst out laughing while reading it once again. “Why so mad? I mean it was pretty funny after all, corny most of it.” Wirth chuckles at you, a blushing mess right now. You did try, but he made a laughing stock out of it— so you thought. He thinks to himself, why should he keep his feelings from you when the message is clear— you like him; too.

So, Wirth decides to visit you— a Friday night of all nights. Doing your usual, playing chess and eating sweets. Yet this night was different from all the others, you offered to do something else; new, Wirth thinks to himself. Nevertheless, he agreed. You were getting predictable anyways. He would do anything just to find another game to play with you rather than chess.

“Alright, let’s play something else.” Wirth concludes. “What else is there to play rather than chess? It’s literally the only thing we know how to play…” You sighed, he responded to you with a mundane tone. “Let’s just talk, maybe you know… Let it all go?” you chuckled at his words. “Maybe, it’s better than chess…” you smiled at him, Wirth sighed as he lay down on your bed. “Hey! I didn’t allow you to sleep on my bed!” you protested. “Your bed feels more comfortable. I can feel it…” “I don’t take excuses for granted, Wirth. Now get outta my bed ....”

“You already know that my dad’s mean, Wirth— why’d you gotta remind me?” you sighed as he responded, slightly chuckling, “Well, it just came to my mind, nothing special really.” He slowly moved closer to you, as his face was literally inches away from yours, he mumbled “You’re nothing like him. You’re nothing like anyone— at all. When dad used to play favorites on me and my brother, who did you like better?” “You, obviously. He kinda acts like a robot though..” you said jokingly. “But, Wirth. Just saying, no offense to him though.” Wirth bit his tongue, then suddenly laughed. “See, I knew you liked me better. Honestly, I hoped you did.” He chuckles, “This is getting insanely boring now. I want to do something.” He gestures himself closer to you. “Do you want to kiss?” He asked without hesitation. “What the heck? Are you out of your mind..?” You raised your eyebrow. “It’s to ease boredom! I swear I’m not gonna say anything after.” he responded. “Well, if it can ease boredom…”

You don’t know how you landed in this situation. Wirth was kissing you, you were seated on his lap with your arms over his shoulders. His lips brushed against yours as you two were trying to catch your breaths as you were entangled in your heated kiss. His lips felt like soft silk against yours as you felt a soft tickle on your nose. He pulled away after a while, then chuckled. “You truly love me, don’t you? Because I love you, so much.” You responded with a simple smile, more than enough for him. “I love you too, Wirth Madl.” You gleamed with joy.

"I'm serious about the word "I love you". If ever you don't think so, love me, because it's only u and i in this world.”