#did everyone forget we're open today?

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Boss asks me if I can show up at 9 today. So I do. And no one's here. So I wait until about 9:15. Still no one.

So I leave and go to the gym. It's just across the street, so no harm, right? If he shows up, I can just run back across the street and hop on the truck.

But here the thing now: He never called me asking where I was. I'm not supposed to be in until 10:30, so I still have about 15 minutes until I'm due in. He's not here. No one is here but me and the other front of house guy. And sure, we can run the truck easy peasy. But there's one pretty big problem: Only two people have the keys to this truck, and neither of them is here right now. So we're just leaning against the truck hoping someone shows up.

Oof. Love work.

[yesimwriting]

An Act of Service

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Your father has loyally served the Iron Throne and royal family for many years. No one would ever assume the Grand Maester wanted more for his family's name until he has the opportunity to send his daughter to help treat the pain that's plagued Prince Aemond since the childhood injury that cost him his eye.

Warnings/info: canon deviations (maesters are vowed to celibacy and not allowed to have families bc of the exact political reasons this fic follows, but i really wanted to write this, so we're going to pretend that they can have kids), thinly veiled implications of reader's father wanting to "sell" his daughter out to a prince to aid his family's position

A/n I hate to be the part 2 girl but the ending set up a part 2 so well i may have to

----

It's systemic, the proportioning of herbs so familiar you barely need to glance away from the bronze mortar.

Your arm reaches forward, your eyes briefly darting away from the metal bowl and towards the neatly organized botanicals at your father's work station. You reach for dried petals, the remnants of a rose's remains crumbling slightly beneath your touch.

"Very well," the words are earnest, a rarity when it comes to your father's praise. "But do not get so comfortable you forget your measurements. These remedies may be creations that we feel, but they are also exact."

You nod once, allowing the petals to fall into the mortar before setting your hand against the work table. Your father's unofficial lessons are precarious, often based on his mood and defined by his meticulous nature. He did not achieve his position within the Red Keep through careless work.

Today, he seems content, his peace evident in the lightheartedness of his corrections. Days like this keep your world on its axis, the time with your father making you ever grateful for his position as well as your own. It is rare for a Maester's child to be allowed to stay near their father, let alone work within the same home as him. His place within the Red Keep allowed him the privilege of bringing you and your younger sister to work as royal maids after your mother's passing.

"Of course."

He plucks another petal from the jar, dropping it into the bowl with no sense of malice. You're glad for his patience, but in all honesty, you're grateful for his attention and lessons no matter his disposition.

As a woman, you may never be able to become a Maester or dedicate your life to the work that fascinates you, but his lessons still hold great value. You help your father heal others between your domestic labors within the Red Keep, and at times, you aid sick or injured members of the royal staff.

He nods approvingly, giving you the confidence to reach for the pestle. You begin to grind the combined herbs sitting inside the mortar.

Hurried footsteps echo from somewhere beyond your father's door. You hesitate, eyes darting towards the entrance. You are not barred from assisting your father with his labors, but many frown on the idea of a woman so close to such an important Maester's work.

The door is pushed open with a protesting groan from its tired hinges. The individual turns, revealing a too familiar uniform. A guard.

You blink, immediately turning your attention towards the unfinished herbal remedy in front of you.

"Grand Maester," the man's greeting is curt, uncertain as he glances in your direction. You busy yourself with blending your herbs. "It is the prince, once again pained by his missing eye."

That alone tells you all you need to know about the guard's hesitation to speak in front of you. You've never once spoken to Prince Aemond, but everyone knows of the childhood injury that cost him his eye. Some maids even claim that a great deal of current political turmoil stems from the mistake that occurred during youth driven roughhousing.

The recurring pain that has afflicted the prince since is a lesser known ailment. Over the years, your father has often been called to the prince's apartments at odd hours to clean and treat the prince's permanent injury, late at night or during the early hours of the morning, when the halls of the Red Keep are most empty.

Your father moves away from the work table and towards the shelf of prepared medications. "Did the prince describe the pain? An ache, soreness..."

"It is a burning pain," the guard begins, "The prince did not go into detail, but he did say his skin felt warm."

Your father stills. "That is not his usual ailment." He turns to face the guard. "I will need to cleanse the eye before the pain can be treated."

The guard is silent for such a long moment you find it in you to look away from the safety of the work table. "His highness...The prince has mandated that no Maesters be brought to him. He only wishes for me to bring him the salve you offered him last."

The Grand Maester begins to pace forward. "May I send his highness the girl?"

Your hand stalls too suddenly, the pestle striking the mortar's side. Surely, your father is referencing some--some other girl. A prince's maid that he is familiar with, or--

"My daughter has witnessed and aided me in my practices her entire life. She is well versed in the process of cleaning injuries and applying remedies in a way that avoids contamination." The guard is silent as his attention shifts onto you.

The guard finishes regarding you with no real flourish. He looks over at your father. "The prince's desires were clear, he does not want more people aware of the situation than necessary."

"You would have a prince of the realm apply a salve himself to an already agitated wound without first having it properly cleansed?" He begins to walk forward, approaching the guard with a confidence you've seen him wear before. "I am more than willing to serve him at a later hour, but his ailments do concern me, and time is a significant factor."

The guard says nothing as your father continues to take measured steps towards him. "She offers the prince the discretion of a maid and the skill of a Maester."

Warmth begins to burn its way up your neck. You had never been put into the position to work closely with the royal family, only ever seeing them from a distance. That does not mean you have not heard stories.

You're not a particularly shy or nervous maid, you understand your place and the importance of keeping silent. But the princes...gossip about them often permeates the maids' quarters. Prince Aegon and his entitlement, Prince Aemond and his anger. Why is your father attempting to throw you to the dragon's? Is he--is he that concerned about the prince's current state?

The guard's eyes briefly find yours. "She can't tell anyone."

Your lips part, unsure if the statement is meant for you or your father. Before you can think of anything to say, your father agrees on your behalf, "She is loyal to the crown and instruction. Rumors will not spread from my daughter's lips." There's a beat of silence, and then the guard's careful nod. "Very well. I will gather the necessary materials."

"I must return to my post, a maid will be sent to take her to the prince's apartments." With those final words, the guard begins to approach the door, glad to be done with his involvement on a change that may upset the prince.

Once the door shuts, and you are finally offered the privacy of your father's company alone, the dread you had been warding off burrows itself in your chest. "Father, why--why would you ask to send--"

"I have treated the prince for many years, more than other Maesters within the Red Keep because of his desire for privacy, discretion." Your father's attention returns to the already prepared remedies. He steals a small jar from its place, setting it on the work table. "You are well trained, and no one will assume you are there to treat the prince."

He opens a drawer of bandages. "You also have a kind disposition, and a patience with the injured that even the most experienced Maester would envy. The prince's exterior may be hardened, but I remember him as a sensitive child."

The reminder of his childhood wedges itself into your chest, distracting you from your own fears long enough for you to feel something akin to compassion. Forever suffering due to an injury inflicted by the brashness of childhood anger.

Your father sets the bandages next to the salve. He then reaches for a cleaning ointment you are familiar with, placing it on the work table as well. Now satisfied with his collected materials, his attention finally finds you.

He approaches you slowly, a fondness not often seen pooling in his eyes. If this is a way of bringing your father pride, perhaps this task will not be as dreadful as it seems. "You have matured before my very eyes, growing into your mother's heart and beauty."

Your father extends an arm, his palm coming to brush against your cheek. The gesture is easing, a display of affection he has rarely offered you since your mother's passing. His fingers settle against your hairline, his nails carefully combing a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"If you are to walk through the halls of the Red Keep, your hair should not flow as freely as a child's." The comment digs at you in a way you do not comprehend. When no worthy reaction comes to mind, you nod.

He steps back, attention returning to the supplies laid out on the work table. "Be careful, take your time checking the prince for infection and other sources of irritation. See to his needs, you are a good, kind girl. I am sure you will find a way to offer the prince comfort."

You swallow, unease settling in your stomach once again. With that, your father turns away from you.

----

The residential halls of the red keep are vast, with never ending turns and stairwells that come together to form a sort of labyrinth. Despite your lack of familiarity with the prince's maid that came to find you, you are grateful for her guidance.

She eyed you and the laundry basket disguising your medical supplies skeptically, but made no attempts to question you as she led you through the castle. Maids that are tasked with the direct care of the royal family tend to be familiar with the other staff members that work closely with the nobles. This woman has already recognized you as an oddity, a stray in routine.

If she had seemed less hesitant to be around you, you would have liked to ask her for her name, and to perhaps find a sense of normalcy through common ground. Her rejection and pointed distance has forced you to try to find a sense of peace through your surroundings.

You've rarely found reasons to wander through this part of the castle, the beauty of it serving as a way of distracting your racing thoughts.

Your guide stalls in front of a large set of doors. "These are the prince's apartments." She pushes open the doors, allowing you to enter before her. "The prince is resting in the room behind the seating area."

Your eyes land on the wooden door behind the small couch. One misstep in that room and things could very well be over for you and your family.

"Will you be able to find your way back?" The question is small, almost hesitant. You're sure she was tasked with getting you to and from the prince's apartments, but there's something about her stance that feels flighty. She does not want to enter the room the prince is resting in.

You have no way of knowing how Aemond reacts to treatments or his own pain, but if he fears the court gossiping about ailments enough to refuse a visit from a Maester, you doubt he takes well to maids witnessing his vulnerability.

"Yes," an act of mercy for you both, "Thank you for bringing me here, but I am certain I can make it back on my own."

She lets out a breath, nodding once. "Then I will return to my usual duties."

Considering that her usual duties revolve around Aemond, there's a good chance she's simply accepting the opportunity to excuse herself. You don't mind, glad for the excuse to not draw attention to what you're here for. She leaves you without another word.

You approach the door pointed out to you, firmly rapping your knuckles against the wooden surface once. A flat, "enter" provides you the strength to push open the door.

The details of the room are more intriguing than you can afford them to be, the intricate patterns on his walls and the ornate carvings etched into his bed frame so enticing a part of you nearly forgets of the prince.

You blink, forcing yourself to focus in an attempt to project the maturity your father had seen in you when he recommended you for this task.

You step further into the room, your eyes landing on the bed. There he is, head resting against the pillow, majority of his body covered by plush bedding.

Your father has only ever felt honored to care for members of the royal family, no matter Prince Aemond's sentiments, you're sure you'll feel something similar. "My prince?"

His head turns, the movement sluggish. "You...Who are you?" The words are more labored than they are defensive. That is not enough to ease the dread in your chest.

You exhale carefully, "The Maester--the Grand Maester sent me." You remain near the doorway, your hold on the laundry basket tightening. "I have a salve for your ailments."

He lifts his head further, his forearm pressing into the mattress. This new angle allows you to see the entirety of his features, the sharp slope of his jaw, the set of his lips...the jagged scar that cuts across porcelain skin. He regards you with an openness that leaves you without words.

The scar that marks him does not dull the beauty of his well sculpted features. Seeing him like this, studying him and what the loss of his eye has taken from him leaves your face warm, as if you've been caught searching for something not meant for you. You've never heard of a maid that's seen him without his sapphire eye.

"Alright." The response feels significantly less hostile than he was a moment before. "Leave it at my bedside table."

You walk forward carefully, mind begging you to think of a way to bring up why your father sent you here. "My pri--"

"You did not answer my question." The authority in his statement doesn't feel like an accusation. When you remain silent, he continues. "You are not my usual maid, the one who is sent to retrieve items from the Maester."

"No," you agree, "The Maester suggested that I bring you your remedy because he found the description of your pain slightly worrisome. He wanted to abide by your wishes to not be visited by a Maester while also assuring that your injury was properly cleansed before being treated." After a beat of no response, unease burrows itself further into your chest. "I can leave you, if you'd pref--"

He turns his head to better look at you, strands of silver hair falling past his shoulder. "What could possibly qualify you to cleanse a wound?"

The question, though delivered sharply, is a fair one. "The Grand Maester, my father..." If the revelation intrigues him in any way, he gives no indication of it. "Has had me assist him with his duties nearly my entire life. I have been trained in basic care and am confident in my ability to properly cleanse a wound."

Prince Aemond is silent for a moment, watching you with an all consuming focus. You've heard stories of his intensity, of his seriousness. The prince pushes himself to sit up fully. "Very well. The maid before you left clean water and rags at my bedside."

Your attention shifts to his nightstand, a small bucket and wash cloth waiting on the hardwood surface. You nod, digging through the clean sheets of your basket until you find the remedies and bandages your father had picked out for you. You lay out your supplies before looking over at the prince.

He has always seemed tall to you, but with him sitting in his bed, you cannot think of a proper way to lean over him to reach his eye while standing. You turn your head, eyes landing on a small desk and chair tucked into a corner. "My lord, would you mind if I..." You gesture towards the chair.

"Do as you need."

You nod in acknowledgement of his permission before moving the chair to his bedside. You dip the soft rag into the water before sitting. The proximity of your new position is oddly disorientating. Small Folk may not be held to the same pious standards as noble born women, but your father has raised you with certain expectations and regulations. With the exception of family, you doubt you've ever been this close to a man.

You lift the rag, but you cannot bring yourself to press it against his skin. "May I?"

He straightens. "Yes."

Even with that, you cannot will yourself to begin the cleaning process. Your father has always been careful when it comes to treating others, following every rule no matter how minor the injury. "My father has taught me to feel the area bordering the wound before cleaning it to make sure the extent of the injury is understood. However, I know this is an older wound, so if you'd prefer for me to only clea--"

"You may do as your father instructed. I am accustomed to the prodding." Sympathy briefly jabs at you. This is something he's experienced for over half his life.

You nod before lifting your free hand, fingertips gently brushing against his cheek. His skin is warm, perhaps a little warmer than a person should be. Your fingers shift forward gingerly, following the path of his scar. The closer you get to his eye, the warmer his skin feels.

"You don't look like him."

The comment pulls you out of your analysis. "Pardon me?"

"Your father," he tries again, "You don't look like him."

If his tone had been any less soft, you might have interpreted the observation as an accusation. "Oh, no." Your touch continues its path across his features. "Actually, I've often been told I take after my mother."

The skin around his eyebrow feels different than the rest of his injury, puffier, as if beginning to swell. Odd. "Does she work in the Red Keep as well?"

His curiosity is jarring, but not unwelcome. Having an excuse to speak makes focusing on such a personal task seem less invasive. "She did..." You blink in an attempt to reduce the impact of thoughts of what happened to your mother. You're doing well, you cannot allow an old grief to ruin everything. "Before she passed."

Prince Aemond hums once, the sound giving no indication of anything. Pleased with your preliminary analysis, you let your hand fall away from him. You turn to once again dampen the cloth held between your fingers.

"What happened?" The question is void of both empathy and brutal curiosity.

You bring the cloth to the side of the Prince's face. "She died..." Your only defense against his gaze is to focus on the irritated skin near his eyelid. Such swelling on such an old wound cannot be typical. "Bringing my sister into the world."

He falls silent again, allowing you to concentrate on dabbing the washcloth against his cheek. "I'm sorry."

Heat begins to burn its way up your chest, the way it always does when your mind dwells on the loss of your mother for too long. "I appreciate your sympathies, my prince."

Water beads against his skin, a single droplet beginning to drip downwards. Your hand stretches forward on instinct, thumb dragging against the hollow of his cheek to wipe away the water.

You do not realize your error until it is much too late. While wiping away the excess water dripping down the skin of an equal is expected, to do so to a prince without so much as asking first implies a familiarness that you are not entitled to.

"My lord, I apologize--there was water--" You stumble through your explanation while pulling your hand back.

Aemond extends his arm, long fingers latching themselves onto your wrist. His touch, though sudden, is far from harsh. You cannot manage to take in a full breath. "There is no need for apologies." He does not release you until you nod.

You return to cleaning his wound, this time making sure to be aware of your instinctual movements. The flesh above what once was his eyelid is jarringly hot. What would your father do? He'd--he'd examine the irritated area.

You shift towards him, so close you can make out individual strands of his silver hair. Your mind works at keeping your breaths even. There is a small area of his skin that's more swollen than the rest. At the center of the swelling, there's a thin line that seems to extend beneath his brow bone and into the space once occupied by his eye. As gently as you can manage, you lift the cloth to the space above his eyelid. He winces.

"I'm sorry." You're immediately pulling back, your spine pressing against your seat. "Are you hurt?"

Aemond's eye flits away from the wall in front of him and onto you. His lips are pressed together, his expression incredibly stoic. "No." The lie is a fragile thing that cannot matter. You saw him flinch. "If anything, you have been more thoughtful than most."

There's a tentative softness laced through the syllables, a hesitance that does not suit him. His careful assurance feels heavy, the pressure of it grounding you. In certain contexts, you can see how the strength of his personality could be perceived as violence, but there's something else to this quality...an intensity that can also apply to good things.

"I'm glad you feel that way." The nail of your thumb digs into the wash cloth. "I--I think I know why your eye has been troubling you, my prince."

His eyebrows draw together, expression coming dangerously close to displaying curiosity. "Why?"

"The skin just above your eye is slightly swollen and more irritated than the rest of your injury. When I examined the swelling more closely, I noticed a scratch." You pause, thinking through your wording. "It's small, but seems to be irritating the scarring around your original injury. You should have an ointment applied with your usual salve to ward off infection for the next few days."

You can't interpret the silence that follows. His expression morphs into something heavy. "A scratch?"

"It is nothing to be concerned about, my prince." The source of his pain is small, if he is careful, there should be no risk of infection or long term consequence. "Truly, the scrape is no wider than..." You glance around the room, looking for something to estimate the size of his injury. Your eyes fall to the hand on your lap. You lift your arm, holding your palm out between the two of you. "The width of my smallest finger."

Aemond lifts his own hand, his fingers bending around around yours. You let him move your arm forward. He studies your pinky before dragging his thumb against your knuckles. The gesture is so comfortable you have to work at not pulling away. He lets out a quiet breath.

"My prince?"

Aemond's hold on you tightens. "Such a dismissible ailment, and I am left defenseless."

Oh--had he taken your attempts at easing him as an insult? His current wound may be small, but skin so marred is easily agitated, easily made sick. "I did not mean it that way." The earnestness of your own voice should startle you. "Your pain is no dismissible thing, the extent of your original injury is brutal enough, I cannot imagine how it feels for it to be agitated."

The words tumble past your lips so quickly, you are not given a chance to think through them. It is never a good idea to express opinions in front of the nobles. "I apologize for over stepping, my lord."

"I told you," his thumb moves against your knuckles once more, "There is no need to apologize."

You nod, still not feeling completely certain. "You should feel much better after the remedies take. The swelling will likely begin to go down before day's end."

His focus remains on your hand. Aemond releases you slowly, his fingers dragging against your skin as he lets go. A part of you is glad for the excuse to return to the familiarity of your tasks.

You open the ointment, fingers gathering a generous amount before returning to Aemond's wound. "Where do you usually work?"

"Often with my father, preparing remedies and organizing herbs and other supplies." You spread the product onto his skin carefully, your touch as light as you can manage. "When I'm not doing that, I assist the other maids, usually with the laundry and in the kitchen."

He nods absentmindedly. You straighten as you finish applying the salve. You wipe your hands onto the discarded washcloth before unscrewing the jar containing the salve.

Aemond is still as you apply the salve onto irritated skin. This time, as your fingers trail against his skin, you can feel Aemond's gaze focusing on you. You work quickly, focusing your distribution of the product onto the cut beneath his brow bone.

Finishing is more bittersweet than you expected it to be. You're glad to know that you've done what's been asked of you, to know that you've done nothing to offend the prince. However, some small part of you is reluctant to leave.

You reach for the cloth, dampening the fabric before wiping your hands clean once more. "The medications should begin to alleviate your pain soon." You twist the rag between your fingers. "Is there anything else you need, my prince?"

He watches you for a moment. "Only your name."

Unease lunges at your chest, nearly making your heart skin a beat. It is quite rare for a noble to ask for a servant's name, especially if the servant does not regularly see to their needs. When Aemond continues to watch you expectantly, you offer him your name.

He tries your name on his own lips, repeating it slowly. Unsure of what the proper response would be, you briefly dip your chin downwards in a subtle nod.

His lips part. You straighten, preparing for the appropriate dismissal. "Sit with me a little longer." The phrasing is gentle, but it feels far from a question. "Conversation would be a decent distraction."

You wring the washcloth further. Cautionary tales of low borns who found themselves overly comfortable spending time with the royal family have been recited to you as often as traditional bedtime stories. However, there is nothing inherently wrong with making polite conversation if it is asked of you. Either way, the dangers do not matter. It'd be a fool's error to directly deny the prince.

"Of course, my prince."

The immediate silence that follows tangles your stomach. Aemond has asked you for conversation as a way to distract himself from his pain and you have nothing worth saying to a prince. You lift your head, glancing around the room. Your observations are in vain, what common ground could you both possibly have?

Your eyes land on his desk. There are a few books stacked neatly on the wooden surface, one with a familiar title written on its spine. "Are you reading The History of the Conquerors?" The question feels too abrupt without a clarification, "I finished the final volume less than a fortnight ago, my lord."

Aemond studies you so openly you almost convince yourself you've misspoken. "You read?"

Despite the politeness of his tone, his true question is easy to assume. A majority of maids and other royal attendants can only read certain words, being taught just enough to get through their day to day lives. Your father had gone out of his way to teach you to read fully. He originally taught you to read to make it easier for you to understand texts detailing remedies and health conditions, but you quickly developed a passion for any text he could bring you.

"Yes, my father taught me." You smooth the washcloth over your lap. "Originally, he wanted me to be able to read about treatments and diseases, and now he is forever cursed to find me new reading material." As soon as the words are out, you're immediately mentally cursing yourself for your casualness. "I apologize, my prince, that was a...joke."

He shifts, his hands coming to rest on his lap. "I told you not to apologize." The correction leaves an uncomfortable heat clawing its way up your chest. Your nails dig into the rag. Aemond lets out a breath. "And you do not have to trouble yourself with proper addresses."

That's--You know for a fact that no maids in the Red Keep have ever spoken of a noble dismissing the need for formal addresses. If it happens, it's something kept secret. Not even your father, who has known and treated the prince since he was child, addresses him casually.

You squeeze the wash cloth, the fabric dampening your palm. "Alright." The word sits there, floating aimlessly without his title to guide it.

Aemond nods before allowing his attention to shift towards the books on his desk. "Did you enjoy the book?"

"Yes." At least this is a topic you feel capable of speaking on. "The descriptions of the seven kingdoms before they were united together were interesting, I haven't found many historical accounts that go that far back."

He takes a moment to digest your response. "It is a detailed account, but at times the writing seems to overly rely on the author's perspective."

"To me, that felt intentional." The excuse to debate narration is more welcomed than it should be. "The author is only taking the time to recount these events because of his personal investments in the conflict. The constant references to his own position felt like an attempt to get ahead of any accusations of bias."

Aemond sits up a little straighter, one of his hands coming to rest on the side of his bed. "That's a fair interpretation, though if that's the assumption we're reading under, it is a poor attempt at denoting political bias when compared to The Recounting of the Dornish Wars."

The Recounting of the Dornish Wars is a relatively popular account, your father had no trouble finding you the first and third volume. The second volume seems to be more of a rarity, something no one in your world has been able to track down yet.

"That's a good point, but the author of that account was in a completely different situation." You fold the towel in half. "It's one of my favorite accounts, even without the context of the second volume, the depiction of the conflict is so thorough one can still understand all the dynamics that came into play."

Aemond taps his fingers against the comforter, the rhythm slow but steady. "Without the second volume?"

"I've yet to track it down, but I've read the first and final installments." The admission feels small, almost uncertain. You move past it quickly, hands fidgeting with the wash cloth on your lap as you continue, "What did you think of the final act? I liked the sharpness of the ending, but I can also see how the suddenness could come off as inconclusive."

His hands move back to his lap. "I enjoyed it. I found the ending's sharpness an accurate depiction of a dragon's strength."

Right. To him, the historical accounts and enthralling tales are more than just stories. They're a part of him, familial legacies he is expected to continue.

A part of working within the Red Keep is dismissing any curiosities you may have regarding what is left of Old Valyria. The Small Folk may think of the dragons, may even discuss them in private, but they do not ask their riders about them.

This is the danger of losing certain formalities, lines begin to blur. You squeeze your hands together before asking, "Really?"

The corner of his mouth pulls itself upwards. Aemond presses the heel of his palm into the mattress as he shifts. "Even the smallest dragons are more fearsome than you can imagine." He angles himself towards you, morphing the remaining distance between the two of you into something inconsequential. "Each of them capable of a destruction that could devastate entire armies."

You're more drawn in than you should be. There's very little you can offer in return. To the Small Folk, the dragons are closer to an ideology than something to be known. Your curiosity combines uneasily with the acute awareness of his proximity. You rest your chin against your elbow. "Your dragon is...Vhagar? The same one from the History of the Conquerors?"

His chin dips forward, making the gentle curve of his mouth impossible to ignore. The prince's sole eye remains on you as it is dragged downwards, the pace of his analysis so unhurried you can feel each moment of it. Bearing the weight of Aemond's full focus is no small feat.

"Vhagar was once ridden by Queen Visenya, who used her size and strength to help unite Westeros." His voice is low, giving the reminder of what is connected to him through blood the reverence it deserves. He shifts even closer, the warmth of his breath now a tangible force against your skin. "And now she is mine."

Heat claws at your skin. You feel your lips part, but there is no waiting response. Before you can string together a coherent set of words, the familiar echoing of footsteps brings you back to the world outside of Prince Aemond.

Your spine straightens on its own accord, the entirety of your back pressing against the seat. Your fingers find the wash cloth again, nails digging into the fabric as if attempting to make up for the time the fabric spent abandoned on your lap.

There's a soft knock agaisnt his door, one Aemond only halfheartedly acknowledges with a blank "enter". He does not move until the door begins to creak open, and even then his new positioning is subtle, more of a turn of his head than an actual attempt to create distance between the two of you.

A maid, the same woman who first led you through the twisting halls of the Red Keep, is standing in the doorway. Her gaze briefly finds you before settling onto the prince. "My Prince, the Queen wishes to meet with you in the great hall before supper."

Aemond is quiet for a moment. You cannot will yourself to look away from the doorway to read his expression in an attempt to understand the silence. "Alright, tell my mother I will be there in a moment."

The maid nods. "Of course, my prince." Her eyes fall to you once more, the corners of her mouth tugging downwards before she shuts the door.

You maintain your posture as silence falls over the two of you. He studies you with the same openness that's characterized most of this interaction. An odd pang of some somber feeling you can't quite place strikes at somewhere deep inside your bones. "Do you need anything else before you meet with the queen?"

He presses his lips together before responding, "There is a book at the end of my desk that I've been meaning to return to the library."

You nod, a part of you relieved to be given such an understandable task. You stand, arms reaching for the abandoned laundry basket before you've fully straightened. "Of course." You adjust the basket onto your hip before letting your attention fall to the supplies still on his nightstand. "I'll leave the supplies here so that you can reapply the ointment and salve before bed."

You step back, eyes falling to the desk chair. One arm falls away from the basket, fingers coming to grasp the seat's wooden spine. "You may leave it."

The instruction is strange, but you don't think much about releasing the chair. "Of course." You move a few paces back before looking over at him again. Much to your dismay, the newfound distance does not rid your mind of the warmth of his breath against your skin. "If you'd like, I can tell my father that you'd like him to visit you tonight to check on your eye."

"No," his tone is decisive, "I trust your work." An unexpected pride swells in your chest at his certainty. Aemond sits fully, his legs moving out from under his bedding and onto the floor. "In fact, I'd like you to return tonight to check on my recovery."

Tonight. Your mind leaves you with no response. It is one thing to be sent to treat the prince when you are the only option for him to maintain the privacy he desires, but to come to his apartments at the hours you've heard of your father being called during, when the world is quiet and all the well behaved are already in bed.

You force those thoughts to stall. Aemond is a prince, and this is only an act of service. This is not a source of impropriety. "Of course, I'll be here when you call."

His acceptance of your compliance serves as a dismissal. You turn towards his desk, your eyes scanning the neatly organized items before finding the sole book waiting at the surface's edge. A copy of the second volume of The Recounting of the Dornish Wars.

This cannot be more than mere coincidence. You blink, throat a little drier than it was a moment ago. You're careful as you pick the novel, your hand supporting the book's spine. "This--"

"The library is not expecting it back for some time, but I believe it is best to keep things orderly." His voice remains neutral, but the set of his mouth, the upturn of his lips is much too knowing to not imply more.

He has directed you to a copy of the book you've been searching for that no one will think to look for for some time. The gesture settles against you, squeezing your chest in a way that makes it difficult to keep breathing. You allow yourself to grin openly as your gaze shifts between the prince and the book in your hand. "I agree, my prince."

The title falls from your lips before you can prevent it. You had been doing so well at disregarding titles...Perhaps it had been an act of fate, or some desperate attempt of your subconscious to remind you that any imaginary kinship your mind has created while treating him needs to be forever abandoned at his apartment's threshold.

His expression morphs into something unreadable. Instead of reminding you of what he had told you about titles, he says, "Aemond." The suddenness of his name throws you. "When we are alone, I'd prefer it if you called me Aemond."

Warmth burrows itself in your chest. If you thought any of the casualness the prince had shown you throughout your time here was dismissible, this is the opposite of that. A nail in a coffin you do not understand.

Still, you nod, fingers tightening around the book as you respond, "Then...I agree, Aemond."

A sharp nervousness digs into your chest, taking control of your limbs as you turn away. You leave his room without another word, a maid's basket on your hip and the prince's book in your hand.

----

a/n if you want to see the reader come back to aemond's room later pls lmk bc i think a part 2 would be fun :)

[clrasecretdiary]

Home-baked cookies | Spencer reid x bestfriend!Fem!Reader

Turns out you and Spencer's love language are acts of service

Content: "can't believe you remembered" type of thing, Mutual pining (no confession in this one), it's obvious to everyone besides them, Spencer's love language is showing he cares/acts of service (obviously), no physical description of the reader!

a/n: Finally had the courage to try and write a longer one! Love to think about cooking sweets for Spencer and about love-languages sooo i wrote this, hope you guys enjoy it <3

Warnings: Just lovey-dovey stuff , might have some grammar mistakes as English is not my first language!

You used to be better, in the past you wouldn't let any tall, smart-ass make you feel like this, but at this point you've just embraced the stupidity of it all. And that's why, after Spencer told you he loved home baked cookies, you decided it was a good idea to wake up at 5 am just to make some for him.

"Shit, shit, shit" - You say, realizing you're definitely not going to get to the BAU early, which especially sucks today when you wanted to catch Spencer without the whole team being. If they see you giving Reid that kind of thing, you will never hear the end of it. I mean, they still mention the one time you remembered his coffee order. 

Hurrying to put the cookies in a container, take a shower and put on your outfit, you rush out the door, hoping that luck would be on your side, and the whole team besides Reid would decide to arrive late. 

Well, luck was definitely not on your side. As you walk into the compound, not only the whole team had arrived, but the scenario you were the most afraid of was happening. Reid, Garcia, Emily and Morgan were all talking in the little office kitchen, greeting you when they saw you walk in. 

"Oh my god, is that for us?" Garcia says, noticing the container on your hands, carrying the fresh cookies 

"Yeah, just made them this morning" You say, opening the container and putting it on the nearest counter

Garcia takes one of them, along with her coffee "ohh you're heaven sent honey, heaven sent!!" she says, giving you a small hug.  

"Hey Spence, I remembered what you told me about loving homemade cookies and how you didn't get the chance to eat them in a while and decided to make some" You say, while inspecting his face as he took a bite, trying to figure out whether he was actually liking them or not.

And, you noticed, there was no denying he loved them, his eyes were almost shining as he tasted the sugary cookies. 

"Oh, these are perfect! Can't believe you remembered what I said, thank you so much" He smiles at you, making your heart race a little bit 

"I actually have something for you too" Spencer says while pulling a book out his bag 

"Oh my god, how did you find this?? I've been looking everywhere for it" You said, after he handed you a special, hardcover version of one of your favorite romance books. Completely forgetting about his germophobia, you give him a tight hug.

"Yeah, you told me that! I called every bookstore in town to try and find it" Spencer says, his voice muffled through your hair, as you were still hugging him

"I can't believe you did that for me, thank you so much spence" You say, pulling apart from the hug and now just smiling at each other. 

After a couple seconds, you both start to blush, and just start in a new conversation about your latest case.

This whole time, Penelope and Morgan, we're watching you guys, exchanging knowing glances at each other and not believing how you both we're so clueless about each other's feelings.

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: joshua

soulmates

'hand in hand, you and me. today, tomorrow, forever.'

when 00:00 glow green in the darkness, you clutch your bedsheets tighter, feeling light burn on your right wrist. it's happening. what everyone talked about, waited for, dreamed of. it tingles for few seconds and when it stops, you know that name of your soulmate is now etched on your wrist with black ink which will not come off no matter how hard you'll try. unspilled tears sting your eyes and you're about to go to the bathroom, when you hear careful knocking and gentle 'love?' from the other side of the door.

'joshua?' you question loudly before jumping from the bed and rushing to open the door. just like you predicted, your boyfriend is waiting on the other side, wearing oversized hoodie on top of his light blue pjs. 'babe, what-'

'your roommate is here?' he asks, interrupting you gently. at the shake of your head, he then points inside. 'can i come in then?'

for the first time since you started dating you hesitate. should you let him in when you don't know if it's his name on your wrist and vice versa? there are so many things on the tip of your tongue: have you checked? is it my name? am i your soulmate? your insides are churning just from the possibility of someone else's name being written on his wrist. joshua takes a second to assess your state and it doesn't take him long to understand what's happening with you. he's always been good at figuring out your feelings even before you did, always knew what to say or do to calm you down. before you can voice out your fears, his arms find their way around your waist, gently but firmly pulling you towards him. 'shh,' he whispers, hugging you tight. 'i know, love, i know.'

'i'm scared,' you mutter, hiding your face in his neck. and it's such a familiar place for you, you can't imagine not being able to do that, can't bear the thought of not having joshua this close to you.

you didn't know how joshua felt the same, how holding your trembling body in his arms made him want to tuck you away from this world and just forget about everything. if the stars decide that you two are not meant for each other then he'll write his own story, create another univerise in which you are his and he is yours because that's the only correct way of how it should be. he hasn't looked at his wrist, mostly because he is scared too but also because he doesn't have to look at it to know who is his fate. gulping, he tightens his arms around you, leaving small kisses on your shoulder.

'have you looked?' you ask in a small voice, biting your lower lip. 'what if-'

'look at me,' joshua asks, leaning back until you move your head and make eye contact. 'i haven't looked. we're both going to look right now but before we do, i just want you to know that it won't change a thing, okay? you are it for me and i don't care if universe agrees with me or not.'

'b-but, if it's not my name..' you start, not being able to finish that sentence because every word breaks your heart.

'then i will cover that name with yours,' joshua says with sureness of person who will not change his mind. 'i will go to the tattoo parlor right now and will make sure that only your name is on my wrist. i love you. do you love me?' at your nod, most beautiful smile blooms on his face. 'ah, i'm just the luckiest guy, aren't i? universe already blessed me with your love, let's check if it blessed me again, shall we?'

it's scary. your throat tightens up and heart rate slows down in anticipation. you didn't think that figuring out who's your soulmate will happen in the middle of the hallway of your dormitory with your boyfriend right in front of you, but life has its own plans. grasping sleeve of your sweatshirt, you look up at joshua, who's already looking at you with impossible fondness. you are it for me, he mouths and with this rolls up his sleeve, looking down. you don't have to look down at your own wrist, because watching surprise and happiness glow on joshua's face is the answer enough for you. when he looks back at you, there are tears in the corners of his eyes.

'it did bless me again,' he whispers, not looking away from you. his eyes are filled with awe and he brings your faces close, so close that your foreheads are almost touching. 'i would've created another universe for us but i don't have to. you are mine in this one.'

what comes out from your mouth is a mix of hysterical laughter and whimpering sob. joshua smiles and takes your hand in his, showing you both his own name written prettily on your wrist. he strokes it lovingly with his thumb as you stare transfixed, not being able to utter a single word. relief floods your system and you sag against him, smiling at the way he keeps on leaving small kisses anywhere he can reach.

'you are my soulmate,' you let out, still in shock. 'josh, you are my soulmate.'

he chuckles, nodding. 'yours, baby. forever and ever.'

he hugs you tight, looking up to the ceiling for a second, silently thanking whoever is responsible for this to happen. he prayed yesterday, promised that he won't ask for anything else as long as he'll get this wish right. i will never ask for anything else, he thinks, mentally sending this message to the universe. you gave me everything.

a/n: oh the feels :') impossible to picture anyone else for this au, so of course it's joshua. tell me how you liked it! - nini

my other works can be found here

[hueshy]

pair: hueningkai x f! reader

warnings: drinking, reader is kind of stupid, overthinking, not proofread.. thats all, if i missed one or two lmk

genres: fluff, reader gets cute aggression because of kai, bad angst cause i don't know how to write it

you and the members are doing your daily hangout on fridays, playing videogames and laugh at the one who lost, drink until nobody knows where they are or what they’re talking about.

but today, something feels off

every one is bickering as usual but kai, you couldn’t help but notice at the way he's unusually quiet. hiding his mouth with his sweaterpaws, shy, quiet responses while his cheeks are naturally colored

dear god

you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, biting your lip whenever he speaks and pinching the pillow on your lap when his bangs slightly cover his eyes. ever since you sat on this couch you had the strongest desire to hug him tightly while you squealed on how adorable he is

if you did just that, he wouldn’t be weirded out right? he would receive the hug happily and giggle along with you, you think

soobin has noticed you staring at kai for awhile now, giggling on how mesmerized you look at the sight of kai and also how obvious you are, obvious to everyone but kai himself.

he approaches you and says,

“you’re clear as a crystal you know,” you hear a deep voice next to you, it’s soobin, you stare at him like he has grown two heads “what do you mean?”

he stares at kai who’s sat in the couch playing games with beomgyu then back at you, “do you like him?”

“…what?” he shrugs, “just curious”

you scoff and playfully roll your eyes, slowly mouthing a ‘no’ before going back to the couch to sit next to kai “who’s winning?” asking the two but eyes only looking at him. kai suddenly goes silent, you furrow your eyebrows and open your mouth to voice your worry but beomgyu beats you to it. “what’s wrong huening? why are you so suddenly quiet? you were so talkative just now" red cheeks, eyes staring down at the controller in his hands, everything but you, red ears.. oh? " don’t tell me—“ beomgyu looks at you for a second, “shut up!” “oh it is, isn’t it?” he teases, smirking. “what? what’s wrong? tell me!” you whine, desperate to know what’s up so suddenly.

“nothing! beomgyu-hyung is just being annoying” kai answers, irritated

you hum, furrowing your eyebrows once again, “is he really? c’mon tell me beomgyu!” as soon as you glare at him he nonchalantly shrugs, the dimple on his cheek appearing as he was smilling too hard

“ugh i was planning to share my chips with you beomgyu but not anymore traitor”

although he looked absolutely endearing when 'shy', you didn't like how quiet he is whenever you're around. he was practically ignoring you, but why? 'does he hate me now? what did i do? why is he barely speaking to me? we we're just fine 4 days ago..'

'is this the thing him and beomgyu didn't want to tell me? then why was beomgyu so chill and smilling about it?' negative thoughts ran through your mind back and forth, your heart starts to hurt.

"are you okay?" a soft, husky voice greets your ear, a whisper of an angel..

your dear friend, how could you forget he was next to you?

"i'm fine, not in the best mood" you hear a weak hum and a small, 'is that so?'

you continue watching the screen infront of you, you totally forgot you and the others were watching a movie but soon all of them fellasleep but you and kai

a finger taps your shoulder

"..would a hug from hueningie cheer you up?" he opens wide his arms while smiling softly, bangs now swept to the side, exposing his forehead, is this heaven?

the smile on his face fades seeing your hesitance, arms not as widespread as before

you feel horrible

you wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him, a sweet scent of vanilla drown your senses “..i’m sorry” he whispers into your ear, warm breath hits your cold skin, “it’s my fault right?” you nod against his shoulder, you gulp before saying “you hate me”

“no, no, you got it wrong! it’s just..” he whines and hides his face in your hair, your tummy fills up with butterflies at the action “i.. i recently figured out something, n-not something negative, well.. depends on how you take it” you feel his shaking fingers play with the ends of your hair

you stay in silence, waiting for him to speak up, you hear a shaky breath above you “i think i like you— no, i’m inlove with you, ..i, the way you make me feel, i didn’t know the exact name for it but now i do, y/n.. if you don’t feel the same way please—”

"you're not lying to me right?" kai's eyes widen "no of course not! i would never—" you take his face in your hands, closing the gap between you and him by bit, "then, would you kiss me?" he finds himself nodding uncontrollably, repeating 'yes' over and over again. "yes, yes.. would.. would you.. let me?" he stutters, you could feel the way his cheeks were burning hot, so cute, why would you say no?

"of course"

he kisses you, tangling his fingers on your hair and bringing you closer to him, he backs up for air then smashes his lips on yours

"you're so— desesperate to kiss me aren't you?" you laugh

"yes.. yes i think ive liked you for so long but i didn't realize until now” sighing he leans closer to you, foreheads kissing. “we.. are a couple now, right?” you hum and shrug after, “obviously, we just kissed”

“..good to know, question.. can we do it again?—“

"eww what the fuck! yn and kai are making out on my couch!" an annoying voice says behind you, you roll your eyes

“beomgyu!”

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife : Smooches

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: written in honor of the fabulous and fantastic @romanarose birthday today!!! 🎂 I would not be writing Pedro fics if it were not for their fantastic stories that got me hooked so everyone PLEASE wish our lord and Savior the bestest birthdays of all!

- - - -

Joel knew pregnancy brain was out of wack when you started slamming the table with a fork and knife at 5pm like a senior citizen demanding dinner.

"I aint got anything you aren't gonna throw up later. We're going out," he states with hands planted on his hips.

"Ooh yay!" You wiggle out of your chair and grab your purse. "Jone's steakhouse?"

"If that's what you want."

"But you have to ALSO want it. Or it feels like you don't want it and makes me feel like I'm dragging--"

"JUST. get in the car, sweetie," he grits with a fake smile, opening the door.

-

Dinner was good. Steak was solid. You complained it wasn't salty enough even after you dumped the entire shaker onto each slice. But now that both your bellies are full and satisfied, with you rubbing your exceptionally swollen one happily, the drive home was finally peaceful.

Until you kept smacking your lips. The quiet air was filled with schmockschmockschmock sounds from your beautiful but ever so annoying mouth.

Joel clears his throat but keeps his eyes forward and mouth shut. Just gotta get you into bed and it's a sold evening.

He hears you digging in your purse, scavaging deeply for--

"Oh no. Nononononono!" You shriek, hands splitting the seam of the bag open to dump out all its contents on your lap.

"What, what's wrong?"

After clearly seeing all pockets were empty, you shout, "Oh my god noooo! Oh god please don't be happening."

"What you forget your phone? Wallet?" He asks worriedly.

Instead of just outright answering him (because thats just ridiculous) you start panting heavily and tearing up. "I cant live. I need it Joel."

"Need--need what baby? Just tell me, I'll make it right."

But you're too hysterical and hyperventilating  at his brain dead question to give him the answer.

Roll with the punches, Miller. Stay calm. Resolve.

"Okay it's OK probably just sitting on the ground at the restaurant. I'm turning around, okay baby? Please calm down, we're gonna get it back."

Joel explains to the host that you just saw 15 minutes ago that his wife (he gestures to his obviously pregnant and agitated , volcanic explosion of a meltdown wife who's having a panic attack) forgot something and would like to check the table again to find it.

The host rushes the two of you back to the table to avoid mount doom from exploding.

But after thoroughly searching for something that only YOU know what is missing, absolutely nothing comes up around the table that doesn't belong to said restaurant and table.

"What did you lose?" He finally asks hesitantly. It MIGHT help to know. "Phone? Wallet?"

You take a deep breath, eyes swollen and red, cheeks blown warm and shiny with tears as the world crashes around you at the devestating realization that its GONE gone:

"My LIP MOISTURIZER!"

You slug your shoulders and tilt your head back to wail in the middle of this albeit emptying restaurant while Joel and everyone pauses to quietly stares at you.

Joel's expression with an edge of disbelief and exhaustion.

He takes you by the hand as you still cry, thanks the host with a wave and gets your fat ass in the truck.

"We got more at home... right?"

"Joel!!" You snap. "If I HAD another one, I'D BE USING IT! I wasn't finished with the last one! Everything will be wrong if I open a new one when I still has the other one every day for 6 months!"

"You've had this one chapstick since I got you pregnant?"

"LIP. MOISTURIZER." You throw yourself back into the comfy seat. "You only like kissing me when it's moist and pleasant and NOW you won't like me--"

"Babe I never even knew you had stuff on--"

"WELL NOW YOU WILL because it won't be on and everything is RUINED! I have to over compensate for your dry peely nasty crunchy flaky dead lips, but now you won't love me and our baby because I won't have silky smooth moist plushy baby girl lips and then my husband won't have juicy sucker's to suck on when we make out and get his fat cock sucked by my once pillowy beautiful lush lippy lips...!" and then you start sobbing again.

He shakes his head. "Listen, how about I get you some more first thing tomorrow morning--"

"Tonight!"

"Right, tonight. That's what I said." He gulps hard. "And uh, you'll be... coming with me?"

You slowly turn your head and narrow your eyes. He does now see the clock is 8pm, sharply past your self imposed bed time.

"I meant you'll be coming with me... as I drop you off at the house. Then I'll go back out."

You nod as if saying 'that's more like it,' before folding your arms over your chest.

He squeezes his eyes shut and internally rolls them as hard as possible.

-

The closest 24/7 general store was 10 minutes thankfully. He grabbed a handful of different flavor chapsticks and dumps them on your lap--

"Joel what the FUCK are these."

"Chap--!"

"I WANTED LIP. MOISTURIZER! NIVEA! EOS! VASELINE! NOT THIS CHEAP SHIT."

He growls--not this shit again. He has flashbacks of the taco yackies incident roll through his mind. "YOU ASKED FOR CHAPSTICK! I GOT EXACTLY THAT!"

"Chapstick is a BRAND name. This stuff makes my lips burn and feels even drier. Joel do you SEE my lips!" You point both fingers directly at your mouth and purse out. "DRY. AS. FUCK. these are NOT dick sucking lips.  They will start fucking peeling soon.  and then I don't know if I will be able to kiss my own baby's noggin when she's first born less she be DISGUSTED--"

Hes back in the car before you were even done yelling.

Back at the store. Staring at the wall of different lip care options. This is 10x worse than the tampon and pad aisle. THAT one he's a pro in. Pussy King expert for all its needs. Even shows other women that come back exactly where and what they're looking for. But this shit??

There's so many flavors. Why does the flavor matter? Cherry red, cherry blossom, cherry berry--what the fuck is the difference? One says lip moisturizer, the same one next to it says lip care, then lip cream, lip balm, lip lush, lip lotion... fuck.

He does the sensible thing: pulls one of every single item into his arms, struggling but managing to hold haphazardly close to his chest (the man doesn't get a basket for shit because he only comes on for the exact ONE thing he knows he's getting). When he hobbles to the tired cashier, he leans forwards and dumps it all the counter with a sad smile. A smile of which drops quickly when the total comes to exceed $85.

-

9:14pm. Could be worse. You're eating a bag of extra salted chips--which he suspects is only going to make the lip situation worse but whatever. One by one, he basketball chucks them into your lap. You inspect each one, scoffing at all the useless flavor ones that just don't work, until finally holding up the vanilla honey extra moistening stick. You rip it from the package, pop the lid off and slather that shit on with a orgasmic groan, rolling your eyes back as it glides over and over your lips repeatedly. You smack them to spread evenly, all shiny and pretty before nodding approval.

Joel sighs and tosses himself on the couch, head first into your lap. You rub his hair and continue watching the TV, gnawing at the chips carefully so as not to ruin your fresh lips, as he falls asleep and snores deeply.

It lasts for a minute before both you and he feel something small against his temple stir in your belly.

He sits up like rocket, and the two of you stare at one another in shock. You both slowly look down at the belly, hands crept over its rounded expanse, and wait.

Then--an almost inperceivable yet delicate tiny kick. The first one.

Neither of you have words as excitement floods your faces.

"See. Even the BABY needs the best kissy lips."

He grabs your face with both hands and smashes his lips onto yours like he's gonna suck your soul away.

When he finally pulls off with a big grin (and you thrown back against the couch with a delirious expression getting oxygen back to your brain while your pussy drips fresh juices onto the couch), he smacks his lips tastily and enjoying the soft, silky, honey sweetness of your lips.

"Oh fuck, that is good."

You grip his shirt and force him back down to make out with you again, falling sideways on the couch as you both hungrily grope each others' bodies.

-

The next day you find your brand new lip moisturizer missing. It's set in the bathroom vanity, somewhere you did NOT left it. When popping it open, it has suspicious short little whisker hairs stuck to it. You frown but plant it back where you find it, run behind the door, and wait. About 2 minutes later, Joel comes in, searches behind him around the room before sneaking the little stick off the counter and hustling to the bed. He lies on his back, pops it open, and greedily smears it all over, humming contently and whispering "mmm yeaaaahhhh" before smacking his lips and pursing them out.

You fall over giggling in the bathroom at his new found guilty pleasure.

- - - -

Taglist

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[teekays]

hello! if memory serves you are the blog that talked about boy band pretty as a marketing tactic (or something to that effect? the search function does not work so if i’m wrong i’m terribly sorry) and i was wondering if you would be willing to find someone from each team (can include prospects if you want) to create the ultimate nhl boy band. this is not a necessary thing to do, solely shits and gigs and if you ever feel like it doing it. have a lovely day!

HIIIIIII that WAS me and you sent this at the perfect time because i am at the laundromat with time to kill and i LOVE to discuss this.... let's chop it up.... a few disclaimers: this is subjective so don't get mad at me and i will be including prospects and ahl players where i know its applicable BUT for most of these teams i will be going off the main roster + looks alone because if i did a full deep dive vibes analysis on every team's roster and prospects it would take me like two months to answer this ask... you understand. we are being SHALLOW here today in the true spirit of the boy band industry. let's go!!!

carolina hurricanes: i know everyone wants me to say sebastian aho but he is 1) too old 2) too unsettling looking. the elf on the shelf is not boy band pretty im sorry 😭 i do love him but he's just not the vibe here... i will say based on looks either scott morrow or jackson blake and his 90s heartthrob hair. i want to say seth jarvis because he's my special pop pop but that does contradict almost everything i have said previously so i will not be biased but know that if he was a pop star i would be his biggest fan i would kiss his poster. and that's my truth

columbus blue jackets: in the interest of journalistic integrity i went to their roster instead of just saying it's obviously kj as the intimidating aloof one in the boy ("boy") band but actually i do think it's cole sillinger.... teen heartthrob. also i didn't know that he was born in columbus because his dad was playing for the team and his brother is also on the team??? imagine having a whole destiny like that and its for COLUMBUS OHIO 😭

new jersey devils: jack hughes. open and shut case argue with the WALL

new york islanders: NOT MAT BARZAL. HE LOOKS 35. STAND UP LADIES!!! lowkey i do not know any of these dudes and this roster is kind of busted as fuck 😭😭😭 (NOT ANTHONY DUCLAIR who is too old to be a boy band boy but who i do love) bargain bin team... anyway isaiah george YOU! are the only cute person the new york islanders

new york rangers: matt rempe. those pictures of him lounging around on the phone??? wow. no words. diva heartthrob behavior. it's sad what they're doing to him what are we doing to our beautiful queens :(

philadelphia flyers: after much careful deliberation.... i think denver barkey is taking it. denver is such a deeply boy band name tbh he was born for this!!! i know everyone thinks it's jamie (who i still forget is a flyer 😭) but can you imagine him on a stage? singing a song? they are reinventing shoegaze for him. negative star quality (AFFECTIONATE!!!!!!! LOVING!!!!!!!!!!!!)

pittsburgh penguins: well NOW the obvious answer is rutger mcgroarty... not even worth going through that senior center roster when he's there tbh sorry pens

washington capitals: AGAIN. SENIOR CENTER ROSTER. i had to go to their prospects page to find someone suitable and my vote is patrick leonard he's a cutie!!! also im so sorry to say this but my jaw dropped when i got to this guy why are you playing hockey you need to make a children's album RIGHT NOW. i know he could do a banger cover of the We're going on a bear hunt song. but i digress...

boston bruins: matthew poitras is adorable and exudes star quality NEXTTTT. shoutout also brett harrison who looks like a long lost jonas brother

buffalo sabres: JACK QUINNN JQUIZZY HIMSELF partly for looks mostly for vibes... he has extreme "jack dylan grazer vape apology video" energy and also he has that boyish charm... either him or devon levi (hot) not miss owen power for the same reasons as jamie. she could never be a pop star 😔 ryan mcleod used to be the oilers popstar boy but now he's got too much competition he's a little niche for the title

detroit red wings: my gut tells me simon edvinsson but a look at the roster tells me there is some competition in the form of amadeus lombardi... if we were discussing this two years ago mo seider would be the obvious answer but he's too grizzled now 😔

florida panthers: 🙄 here comes another busted fucking roster... i guess denisenko??? panthers are not really representing here....

montreal canadiens: ARBER <3 he's like the bad boy hottie in the boy band. the one that makes your dad shake his head when he sees him on tv

ottawa senators: wow the atlantic division is fucking WACK this was another case of like. okay i guess ill pick one of yous but REALLY? so congratulations jorian donovan YOU are in the boy band

tampa bay lightning: seriously what is going on in this division. jack finley looks like he was the closeted one in a boy band from the early 2000s but he's aged past that now and he has a husband and a wine brand.... so we will bring him back for nostalgia points. welcome to the team. also i have to be honest i thought of myself as pretty well acquainted with the ahl but the SYRACUSE CRUNCH? that's crazy

leafs: JOSEPH WOLL! boyish charm out the ears on that one. a real cutie

chicago: obviously it's bedard. we all know it's bedard. on the surface he has no charisma but he does have a certain kind of shy boy charm and he IS adorable... he's the one in the boy band who makes your mom tut over him like "he seems like a nice boy"

colorado avalanche: wow huge props to matt stienburg for having maybe the single most boy band roster photo i have seen yet... THIS is the guy they get in the boy band because he's already had huge success with his hit single called like, Heart React Girlfriend or whatever. this is jacob sartorius if he played hockey. this is chase dreams. this kid is going places

dallas stars: it's obviously wyjo, joining the ranks with cbedard as The Nice One <3

minnesota wild: okay i was going to say brock faber because every group needs a kevin jonas (SORRY BROCK) but WHO is kyle masters and why does he look like knockoff brendan brisson. budget briss. diet briss. we have briss at home.

nashville predators: this just reminded me cody glass is a penguin now 💔 anyway the preds have some STRONG contenders here wow.... jeremy hanzel is taking it but i think luke evangelista could pull it off... now if you asked me to be really subjective it would be ozzy wiesblatt who would also be the subject of much poster kissing and rigged "which member of the nhl boy band should you date" tests so i get him as the result but that's just me....

st louis blues: jeremie biakabutuka your radiant smile has charmed me.... welcome to the band....

utah whatevers: MONTANA ONYEBUCHI I AM SO FUCKING SORRY THE SHARKS DIDNT APPRECIATE YOU. BUT WE WILL..... also matt villalta kinda giving off brand kj... you could build a whole off brand version of that umich team just with guys from other teams i bet

winnipeg jets: dylan coghlan you will always be famous to ME but i fear you are a little too old for our purposes here.... other than him they kinda don't have a lot going for them.... brayden yager it is your time to shine as off brand owen power ♥️

anaheim ducks: some strong competition here... tz is the obvious choice but i think we need to think bigger... olen zellwegger please step forward....

calgary flames: matt coronato i am free on thursday if you would like to hang out on thursday when i am free and also join this boy band

edmonton oilers: yet another old ass roster 😭 they're lucky they got so many sabres because matt savoie is saving their asses rn

los angeles kings: angus booth is smizing in every single photo i saw of him so. come on now

san jose sharks: it's so obviously will smith i don't even know what we're doing here tbh

seattle kraken: tye kartye looks like he would be into white water rafting so he can be the nature guy in the boy band.... strong competition from tucker robertson but he's just a touch too gay porn for this vibe

vancouver canucks: JETT WOO... HELLO.... but also shoutout cole mcward for having 2014 gay youtuber phenotype. a connor franta troye sivan type face if ive ever seen one

vegas golden knights: BRISS ‼️‼️‼️ my little tabloid queen... not only is he in the boy band but he's in the news and the media. he was born to be a star. natural ham. child actor energy. alex holtz is also a strong contender for this but i think he's off on his own doing his little pop star solo act thing

this took way longer than laundromat time but it was worth it i had so much fun!!!!! thank you!!!!!!

[lipringlrh]

him | CL16 & LN4

summary: you and charles have begun to form a relationship, but you can't help but call your ex whilst he sleeps.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader, lando norris x fem!reader

an: my first f1 fic!!! please like + reblog it means the world to me :) requests are open!!

word count: 2.1k

warnings: kind of cheating but no one’s officially together, everyone is a little shitty but probably reader most (depending on your point of view)

feedback appreciated!!!

…

“Why are you calling me again? Aren’t you with him?”

It was past midnight and you should’ve been asleep. But you weren’t, instead, you were on the phone with your ex-boyfriend whilst in bed with one of his friends.

Charles was asleep next to you, face down, with an arm thrown over your waist. He looked pretty: his face pressed against the pillow, overcome with a look of calm. Yet you still wished he was someone else.

“Hello?” His voice on the phone was rough, you knew he’d been asleep but you didn’t care. You knew he kept the sound turned on on his phone at night, waiting for your call.

“Lando,” It was the same conversation every night but you still never knew what to say.

“Miss me again? Where’s your new boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, Lando, you know that.” It was complicated what you and Charles had; you weren't together but you acted like you were, engaging in couple-y activities. You weren't official; you weren't even exclusive. You both were allowed to see other people but you both said you preferred not to, or at least, that's what he thought.

“Doesn’t change anything though, you still wish he was me, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer him; you couldn’t. It felt like he knew your every thought so you didn't even need to reply.

“So is he still in your room?” Lando sighed. He hated these late night conversations and felt just as guilty as you did but he couldn't help but continue with them. He craved any communication with you, even if it was hurting himself and two people he loved in the process.

“He’s next to me," you whispered, ridden with guilt. You were disappointed in yourself more than anything, from both the situation and the fact that you were becoming more careless every night; Charles could wake up any second and realise you were whispering promises to one of his closest friends, but he never did.

“Next to you? You’re not even leaving the room to call me now?”

“Lando..”

“What’s going to happen when you get yourself caught, hmm?” He was teasing you now. He didn't care if you got caught anymore - of course he would feel guilty for a while but it meant he could have you to himself again, and that's all he wanted.

“He’s your friend too.”

There was silence after that. You both were in it as much as the other but it was much easier for Lando to forget.

“Come see me tomorrow, yeah?"

It was dangerous, seeing Lando in a public space where anyone could see, but his team had become good at hiding the usual occurrence. They knew to hide it from reporters and the public, any other teams and drivers, and especially Charles. And they didn't ask questions.

They saw you sneak off into his drivers room every race and whilst they speculated what went on, they made sure it never left the McLaren rumour circle.

And just like usual, you were with Lando pre-race in his drivers room. Everyone knew now, there was no questions on whether you should be let in because everyone just knew. You were with Lando, official or not, and he would not be happy with anyone if you weren't let in.

"So… you told me to come here, we're not just going to sit in silence, are we?"

"You would've come if I hadn't told you to. We end up here every race, todays no different."

"It feels like it is."

He was slightly taken aback, but he didn't let it show. "Maybe because you're careless?"

"Sorry?"

"At least leave the room when you call me. Not whilst your boyfriend is barely asleep next to you. I know you call me the second he's knocked out."

"He's not my boyfriend. How many-"

"So that makes this all better then, does it?"

"You're bothered about the situation now? Me and Charles aren't together, and we've said we can be with other people. What happened to your 'he got with my ex-girlfriend, it's no different' attitude."

"Because I feel bad."

Right before a race was not the time for this conversation, both you and Lando knew it, but it had been brewing for a while and there was no way of stopping it.

"I feel bad too Lando, this isn't my ideal situation either." You talked much softer now, it was a harsh topic that both of you tended to ignore when you were together.

"Then leave him."

"What?" You weren't shocked, you knew he would ask it one day but you always thought you'd be able to tell that he wasn't completely serious about it. But not one part of you was sure.

"Come back to me, please." He wanted to beg - he'd do whatever it takes.

"Lando, no."

"Lando, yes."

"Please, no Lando, I think there's a real chance I could love him and it work out."

He didn't know what to say - he didn't want to speak. He didn't want to compete with Charles in this instance, he wanted you and his vision of you both in the future as soon as you could. "So there's no chance of you loving me and it work out?"

"We didn't work out before for a reason, Lando, it'll happen again."

"We've made this work, we can make that work."

"This is built up of lies and deceit, what makes you think our relationship would be any different?"

"Because I love you and need you with me for the rest of my life. I will make it work one way or another," his voice broke, adding to the tears collecting in his eyes. They were red; swollen, and you so badly wanted to hold him until he let it all out but you couldn't. It hurt you physically to restrain yourself, but it was the right thing to do.

"I-"

You were cut off by a knock at the door and you couldn't tell if you were grateful or not. You both stood in silence, hoping the other would answer but no one did. The next round of knocks came and you decided to suck it up, saving Lando from the person outside hearing his voice on the verge of crying. "Is everything okay?"

Neither of you had broken eye contact. His eyes were red, about to burst and you just looked at him with sorrow. "Sorry to bother you but Charles is looking for you, he wants you really badly it seems. Pre-race talk or something, it doesn't look good."

Turns out, Charles did want you very badly. He'd been pacing back and forth for what felt like hours, stressing out about his upcoming race, and just needing a destresser. He had dragged you into a room, trying to calm down, varying talking from subject to subject. You didn't know how the subject had gotten to what it had, but you were frozen in shock, unsure of how to feel.

“I’m in love with you, chérie. I know we haven't put a label on anything yet, but I want to now. I just think that-" He rambled on, too passionate to notice the door opening and closing behind him, but you noticed it, "-and I think we could be perfect together, I just love you and I-"

You couldn't look at him, instead keeping your gaze focused on the man who had obviously been listening in to your conversation and wanted nothing more than to put an end to it. Charles couldn't help but notice your misfocus and finally noticed who was stood behind him the whole time.

"Lando- oh hey- you okay? Could you give us a minute?"

"I'm alright, I'll think I'll stay,"

"Lando.." you whispered. He hadn't taken his eyes off of you the entire time, even when replying to Charles; he wanted to take the time to read you and figure out what you were thinking. He didn't care about what Charles did and his feelings, only whether your felt them back.

"Yeah, sorry, I'll take a seat."

"You know?" Charles questioned, watching Lando pull up a seat at the opposite side of the room. He realised it was stupid question the second it slipped from his mouth; Lando kept up with everything you did, of course he knew.

"Of course I know. One of my most trusted friends trying to get with my ex-girlfriend whilst he knows I'm still in love with her. Yeah I know." He was disgusted with his friend and made it known. Yeah, he had done shitty stuff too but he would've been a lot more respectful if Charles didn't do it behind his back.

"Lando, maybe it's better-"

"No Charles, carry on professing your love to my girl."

"Lando, I'm not your-"

"No, can you please leave? You ruined your chance, it's my turn. It's not fair you get another chance." Charles couldn't believe Lando's attitude and Lando couldn't believe Charles' audacity. You, well, you just couldn't believe it was happening and happening like this.

"She was my girlfriend. You were my friend and went behind my back to get her to fall for you, it's only fair I can do the same. And don't get me started on you." He looked at you, with both stars and disappointment in his eyes.

"Leave her out of this."

"Do you want to tell him, sweetheart, or should I?" Lando was teasing you now; playing your game. He wanted the upper hand on Charles and was using the truth to prove he had it all along.

"I've still been talking to Lando, whilst we've been together and-"

"Calling me whilst you've been asleep mostly-"

"And occasionally meeting up with him."

Lando kept his eyes trained on you, not breaking eye contact even when Charles was looking between you both in a frenzy.

"Oh,"

"Charles-"

"No, I get it. We agreed we could see other people, I just didn't realise you were." He sounded broken; he was broken. He felt so stupid that he didn't realise. His eyes were welling up but he desperately tried to hide it. He'd thought about the fact there was a chance you were still hung up on your ex previously, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, telling himself he was just overthinking.

Your head was in your hands as you contemplated sliding down the wall and curling into your knees. The whole situation was a mistake - you didn't know what you wanted and it was all your fault. It was bound to come out sooner than later, you were planning to tell Charles what was happening, before it was all too late, but it came out in the worst way possible. Karma, you guessed.

"We weren't together, chérie, you were allowed to do that, it just hurts a little. We could be okay though, no?" He sounded so hollow - technically what you did didn't break any rules but it was morally bad and deceitful and you couldn't help but feel endlessly guilty.

"No but it's wrong- so wrong. And I've lied and hurt you- both of you."

"If anything, I'm as bad as you, I tried to get you back behind Charles' back," Lando spoke quietly, almost as though he didn't want to say it. He was moving closer each moment, until he eventually was stood by Charles in front of you.

"And I went behind Lando's back to get you in the first place." Charles mumbled in the same guilty tone. Charles knew they'd all wronged at least one other, some much worse than others, but he be damned if he let you feel all the blame.

"That was pretty shitty,"

"Not as shitty as you going-"

"Stop it please, We've all done really, really shitty things. I just need a minute," You still hadn't moved from being slumped against the wall, feeling as though it was the least confrontational position.

Both men were staring down at you, not moving either. You had two men, head over heels in love with you, a scene you thought would be from your dreams, but instead you were almost a crying mess.

"Then you can pick." Lando whispered before nodding at Charles, in both reassurance and competition. He wanted you okay but he also wanted you to himself and he wasn't a patient man, "You obviously love one of us. Which is it?"

f1 masterlist | requests are open + feedback is appreciated

[blakeswritingimagines]

The Vow

Summary: Being married to the rouge prince was no easy task at least most thought so, being his wife and best friend did nothing but make everyday of your life better and better....until you forget all about him

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Word count: 4.4k

You softly groaned as you stretched in the large bed that had enough room for what might be a small feast, until you rolled over onto your other side and slowly opened your eyes seeing your husband who was often nothing but a brute cuddled up to your side also slowly waking up which caused you to smile to yourself. Lightly dragging your fingertips across his pale skin taking in the slow tender moment before your days were started even if you knew you could go see him throughout the day.

He felt your fingers on his skin and stir, his eyes remaining shut as he leaned in slightly and bury his face in your neck. Scenting your skin, he savours your presence while he still can, before eventually opening his eyes. "Hello." He nuzzled your shoulder. Daemon smiled as your fingers traced his skin. It was a soft way to wake up, rather than the way he was normally woken up. He rolled his hand around searching to take your hand in his own. "We could stay here like this, you know." Daemon spoke softly to you, his hand tracing your face.

Feeling your eyes flutter shut at your husband's tender touch not able to help the smile that brightened due to his words, shaking your head knowing as much as you loved to stay put in his arms wasting the day away together you knew you both would be far to busy and everyone would never let up about needing something from one or the other "I love the way you think my darling, you know I'll be around when you need attention just come simply find me." Daemon sighed, knowing you were right. He rolled on top of you, giving you a kiss upon your lips. "Oh don't you worry, my love, your Daemon will find you wherever you are." He spoke in an amusingly formal tone, his hands now moving down your body.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders smiling up at him, kissing him back softly as you enjoyed the feeling of his firm lips against your own then smiled at his words "I know you will...you always do my Daemon". Giving him another sweet kiss on the lips as you felt his rough hands move across your body before you slowly pushed him up as you sat up "I'm not falling for another five minutes today my love." Daemon laughed slightly at your tease but he was still slightly on the offensive. He pushed you back down to the bed and laid next to you. "You sure? Seems to me like you're enjoying this very much." Daemon spoke with a bit of a smirk on his face, his eyes tracing your bare body. I am a lucky man. He thought.

You sighed playfully as you were forced to lay back down as you looked up at him, nodding your head happily as you cupped his face in a delicate manner "I always enjoy being with you, but we're meant to be busy today my darling". Doing your best to not wrap your arms around him and simply go back to sleep as you attempted to sit up once more. Daemon sighed slightly but made no effort to hold you down this time. Instead he leaned over you once more, planting a soft kiss on your lips once more. "Fiiiine, my love." Daemon said in a playful tone, before leaning back and rolling over to get dressed. "I suppose I should probably get out of this bed…I'm sure that our duties have been waiting too long." Daemon spoke, as if the prospect of dealing with all of his affairs was already a headache.

Laughing as you kissed him back once more before finally getting up and getting dressed, working like a well oiled machine along side of him as he helped you tighten your gown before you tenderly helped him get dressed after being married for so long neither of you saw need for servants anymore. gently cupping his face in your hands as you smiled then pulled him close as you placed kisses all over his face only ending with placing a kiss on his forehead "Only for a few hours I promise love, I believe you can handle that much." Daemon laughed as you kissed him all over and placed one upon his forehead. "I suppose I can handle it, but only if I get to return here when we have some time." He said with a sly smile, his hands still resting on you. Daemon loved being married to you, and he would want nothing more than to spend every waking moment of his life with you, but for now he needed to return to his duties. Perhaps you can help me with some of them…afterwards. Daemon smiled to himself.

Daemon laughed as you dressed him and then put more kisses on him. You were such a tender woman and Daemon loved your touch, your kisses. "I don't think I'll be able to survive such a long separation." Daemon said, his mouth in a small smirk as he placed his hands upon your face. He kissed you back, lingeringly this time. "Perhaps we can escape just a few more minutes…" Daemon whispered against your lips. You leaned into his touch as your eyes closed taking in the comfortable feeling of being wrapped in his arms, looking up at him as you kissed him back lovingly before taking your time to pull away as you looked into his violet eyes and smiled "I said I wasn't falling for it" You spoke before giving him a few quick kisses before you had started walk out of the room ready to start your day so you could finish early and be back beside him as if you both were still newlyweds.

Daemon's face widened at your smirk, as if you were teasing him. Which he supposed you were. "Oh, my sweet lady wife of mine, why are you so cruel?" Daemon said in jest, as if you were actually doing anything wrong by leaving him. "I miss you already." Daemon would tease back as he did not pursue you, for he knew you would return. You always did after all. You couldn't help but laugh at your husband's playful words as you walked away from him knowing he was going to be even more dramatic, going about your day making sure your focus was only on the work in front of you even going out of your way to help Rhaenyra a little bit as the two held a small awkward conversation. Going outside toward the dragonpit seeing your baby Saphira taking some time to yourself as you got fresh air on top of the large beast going into the air with a smile on your face at least before your dragon turned which left you unstable as you fell hitting your head and blacking out as the workers quickly got help.

Daemon was in the middle of some sort of royal affair or meeting with important lords and ladies. It wasn't that terribly important, it was just something he had to do to make sure the realm was properly run. He would get the most important tasks done earlier in the day as to not disrupt his wonderful schedule. Daemon was just stepping out of his chamber for the day when he spotted something unusual. He saw one of the dragon keepers carrying out a woman who had seemingly been knocked out. His curiosity was piqued at first but he quickly turned to concern as he rushed to your side after noticing it was you.

"What in the seven hells happened?" He asked the keeper as he took you away from him. As he spoke to you he lightly grasped your hand, hoping you would wake up soon as your consciousness was all he cared about at this moment in time. The workers all stiffened once the rouge prince especially knowing how protective Daemon was over you, clearing their throats as well as sharing looks before one finally spoke up "She said she wanted some fresh air with Saphira but the next thing we knew she had hit her head and passed out" Not wanting to be on the bad end of the prince's rage they knew to take anything with you seriously even with hitting your head and now as a maester was going to look you over.

"And you just left her alone?" Daemon questioned. "Saphira?" He asked, looking to see if the dragon had attacked you. He knew the dragon would do no such thing, but he wanted to cover all his bases. He knelt by your side and felt your forehead, hoping it was nothing serious. "Please dear, wake up." Daemon whispered, his voice laden with anxiety as he felt your hand. The workers shrugged having been tending to the other dragons while you were with Saphira "We figured she'd be fine, the dragon is fine nor does Saphira seem as if anything happened", Helping take you to the maesters where they laid you down and left as the maester started checking and looking over you better after getting the details of what happened.

Daemon's face was full of worry as he stood beside your unconscious form. He couldn't help but feel guilty. His mind raced as he wondered how he could have left you alone and this happen. I have failed to keep her safe. Daemon whispered to himself. Daemon's heart seemed to skip a beat when the maester was checking you. Not knowing if you were even alive or not. When you were being treated he waited alongside you, just watching you in anxious anticipation for you to open your eyes. After enough time passed the maester sighed before looking over at you with a slight shake of his head as he spoke "She's still breathing but might be out for longer due to the heavy hit to the head, it might take some time but I'm unaware of how long."

Daemon was relieved to find out that you were still breathing. He was in a position of power and yet he couldn't do anything for you. All he could do was wait. Daemon looked at you, watching your gentle features and waiting for you to wake up. Daemon's hand caressed you gently, he hoped you couldn't feel it in your state but he wanted it to anyway. Weeks passed of not much changing nor did anyone attempt to mention perhaps it was best to let go especially with how angry the prince had become, that not even his brother Viserys or Rhaenyra could help calm him down like you often did but once you slowly opened your eyes with a heavy breath as you slowly looked around confused even as the maester came to check on you as your voice came out hoarse "Where am I?".

Daemon rushed to his feet as your eyes reopened. "Y/n! Thank all seven gods you are alive." Daemon spoke with a mix of relief, happiness and guilt. "The gods are merciful today, I thought I had lost you." Daemon said with a breath of relief. "You're on King's Landing, the seat of House Targaryen. You got hit in the head and I've been here for weeks waiting for you." Daemon admitted, feeling nothing but shame for himself. You looked over at the tall man as you winced feeling as if his voice was echoing in your head heavily, tilting your head slightly as you tried to process his words but shook your head not remembering anything as you tried to recall what you were last doing especially hearing you had been out for weeks now "Who are you? and why am I in King's Landing?".

Daemon felt the blood drain from his face. You didn't remember him? You were joking. He looked at you, waiting for you to crack a smile and start laughing. It never came. Daemon slowly moved towards you, taking your hand gently. "My love, I am Daemon Targaryen. We have been married for years now. Your life, it's only just started. But… You don't remember anything?" Daemon questioned, his voice filled with panic. You continued to look at him curiously as you listened closely and tried to place him somewhere you might remember him, feeling bad that he seemed so hurt out about you not knowing him but shook your head as you pulled your hand away from his "No I'm sorry, all I remember is taking a walk than everything went black" Not knowing you had lost years of your life but looked over at the maester who started asking you questions to see what you could remember before he looked over at Daemon scared of his reaction "She has a small case of amnesia."

Amnesia is a kind word for what you have. Daemon thought to himself, his anxiety increasing. He didn't handle the news that you didn't remember him as the man had hoped. Daemon took a moment to gather himself from your sudden news. "Amnesia?" Daemon asked the maester, ignoring the explanation initially. He looked at you, his eyes wide with concern and even a twinge of fear. "My lady wife… Please tell me you remember my name at least." Daemon asked, his voice full of need. You slowly sat up with a small groan of pain as you gently rubbed your head feeling a dull but painful throb, looking up at him once more as you tried to really look at him from his lilc eyes, platinum hair, tall and strong build, only to shake your head again "No I really don't know who you are". Listening as the maester spoke up about how it might take some time for you to feel better but it might do you some well to continue getting rest.

Daemon could feel his heart sink into his stomach. You didn't remember him… You had lost your memory. "You don't know me?" Daemon questioned again. He couldn't believe that that was truly an option. His head was reeling, what did this mean? How does he deal with this? As the maester continued to talk Daemon listened but the words hardly registered in his brain. Slowly he reached his hand out, holding your hand once more. He was not going to let you go again. During the next few days, you had been moved into your own private chambers since you felt weird being alone with Daemon still not remembering him, opting to even sit next to Rhaenyra more even if you couldn't remember her or Viserys who seemed nice when you did talk to him but also who had pushed your work onto someone else in the meantime. Sitting down at the dining table with them all as you bowed your head for prayer waiting until it was done before you started eating feeling excited that Rhaenyra and yourself would be hanging out.

Daemon sat at the table with you and Rhaenyra, his eyes on you at all times. As you prayed Daemon did the same, taking some time to himself pleading witht the gods new or old to hear him. It was good to see your face smiling, even if you didn't remember him. As all of you sat down to eat Daemon kept looking at you, still hoping you would suddenly remember him and everything that had transpired during your marriage. He hoped that deep down he had left his mark on you. That his memory was buried deep within you and only needed to be uncovered. Speaking with Rhaenyra as if nothing was wrong even as the blonde princess agreed that you were married to her uncle, doing your best to go about your routine each day you woke up only to have to ask servants what it was you normally did which often left one of the Targaryens to be told as they stepped in to help you like a small child. Glancing up as you chewed on your food only to see Daemon watching you which caused you to look down at your plate as your brows furrowed "Do you always watch me so closely?".

Daemon smiled softly at your observation, it was as if you were beginning to return your wits even if it was slowly. Daemon had been watching you closely, for you were a puzzle piece he didn't understand. Your amnesia was just a road block that Daemon was determined to overcome. "Of course I do." Daemon said with a smirk, his eyes looking to you, his wife. "It's only natural that I desire to stare at my beautiful wife." Daemon said with a flirtatious tone, hoping to earn some sort of reaction from you. You nodded your head slightly at his words as you squirmed around in your seat slightly instead of flirting back with him like usual, getting up with Rhaenyra once you both finished eating as Rhaenyra gently took you by the hand leading you around as she did most of the talking unless you had questions even as Rhaenyra started to enjoy spending time with you wondering why it had taken so long and you getting hurt for it to happen.

Daemon took notice at your change in demeanor, it seemed as if you were less inclined to flirt and be cheeky when compared to your normal self. You didn't even remember the man you married. It was concerning but Daemon wasn't entirely bothered by it. He felt almost as if you were a new woman to woo, to earn. Daemon wasn't opposed to the idea of winning you over once more. He watched Rhaenyra take you by the hand and lead you away, the two of you looking almost as if you were friends. "Have we found you the perfect friend now?" Daemon asked with a smirk. You looked at Rhaenyra once you felt a nudge in your side and realized he was talking to you, nodding your head as you smiled even if you didn't recall the friendship between yourself and the princess "Rhaenyra has been very helpful with helping me and my day-to-day basics." Having even been spending more time with Viserys as he helped reteach you everything you did before since he had grown to like your way best even if others had an issue with it "She and Viserys have been teaching me about the Targaryen family tree apparently I use to be able to say everyone in order with no mistakes."

Daemon nodded at your words with a soft smile. "I'm glad to see you have company. And the knowledge of the family tree will certainly come with time. You are my wife after all." Daemon said, his voice dripping with flirting even in the presence of his family. He gave you a kiss upon the hand then turned to Rhaenyra. "Keep a close eye upon her and keep her safe." Daemon told Rhaenyra, the tone in his voice a more sincere one. He felt comfortable knowing you were in Rhaenyra's care. You nodded your head feeling good that everyone seemed happy with your progress even if you were still missing so much of your life, watching him closely before pulling your hand away from him as Rhaenyra nodded her head at his words almost offended that he would think she'd let anything happen to you. The two women started walking away as Rhaenyra led you to the gardens feeling the quiet might help as you bit down on your lower lip and looked over at Rhaenyra "Can I ask you something? it's about Daemon himself."

Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow at your request but she shrugged. "Yes, of you course you may." She said with an open smile, curious as to what curiosity you may ask of her. Daemon, as usual, was also listening in on this conversation. He wanted to know what you wanted to know of him. Maybe it was something he could use to slowly get you back on track to remembering him. Sighing but nodded your head happy that the princess had been nothing but easy-going as she helped you remember things, looking down at the ground as you tried to piece your words together before shrugging your shoulders as the words tumbled out past your lips "I've heard...unsavory things about Daemon, that he's quite a brute and has done unspeakable things....is that true?".

Rhaenyra thought for a moment, unsure of how much to tell you. Daemon was her best friend, but he was also her uncle. She did not know how to answer your questions, because honestly, they weren't completely false. Rhaenyra looked for a way to answer without making Daemon seem like a terrible person. "Daemon can be very stubborn." Rhaenyra started, "Sometimes he let's his anger get the best of him. But that's only when he is pushed too far. But what is most important, is that he loves you." Rhaenyra said. You nodded with a small pout on your lips at the answer thinking it over as you recalled some of the things Daemon had done from what you've heard, looking over at the blonde woman again as you shrugged your shoulders at her words "How did we even get together? it sounds like we're nothing but polar opposites, how do he and I even work together in marriage?" Having been too embarrassed and shy to go to Daemon with these questions even if he would be the best person to answer them.

"You two have always been very different, but that's what has drawn you two together." Rhaenyra said with a smile. She believed it too, the differences in Daemon and you were what created the bond between you two. "He may be quite gruff, but he has the softest spot in the Kingdom for you." Rhaenyra said, hoping the words would make you feel better. They were true, Daemon loved you in a way he loved no one else, not even Rhaenyra or his brother Viserys. You slowly nodded along as you listened closely to the words feeling like you were listening to a fariytail, feeling your eyes sting with tears at the thought of Daemon being so tender and you couldn't remember any of it you let out a soft sigh, and nodded your head feeling determined "I want to remember, I'm gonna need more stories about him."

Rhaenyra chuckled at your need for stories which she was not opposed to. "You'll definitely need to remember your wedding to Daemon." She said with enthusiasm. "It was the grandest affair ever. What else do you want to know?" Rhaenyra asked, eager at the idea that your memory might return soon. "I would be more than happy to share anything you want to know." She continued, with a smile on her face. She believed that Daemon deserved to have you back at least. During the next few weeks, You had been learning more about your life and your marriage with Daemon even going as far as to show him small bits of affection, slowly but surely you began to push other's help away wanting to do things for yourself and show you could do it again but kept growing curious as to small gifts for you or being shocked by grand plans before learning it was from Daemon which caused you to seek him out.

Daemon was happy that you were showing him small bits of affection. He knew he would have to earn your love all over again but small touches were good. As you grew curious of gifts and grand plans Daemon was only too glad to tell you whom was behind them. He felt you were beginning to return to him bit by bit, and he wanted nothing more. Daemon felt at ease when you were back with him, and you were beginning to spend more time with him and less time away. It gave Daemon a new sense of hope. You had thanked Dameon for all the sweet and tender gestures he had been giving or showing you, which you found hard to keep the butterflies in your stomach under control but had been doing well as you were still learning more and more only getting curious about certain things but had been spending more time with Rhaenyra and Viserys both of which only now continued talking Daemon up even as you joined Rhaenyra late into the night talking about most things.

Daemon was over the moon to see that little by little you were remembering him and your life with him. He was always so cautious about his love, but as of late Daemon had felt nothing but comfort and happiness when with you. His smiles had become much more frequent. You were back in his life and Daemon was thankful for it. It was the small things that Daemon noticed, seeing how you would speak with confidence, laugh a little more freely, it all added up in his mind. He was on the verge of getting you back. He was certain of it. You rested your head against your arms listening to Rhaenyra speak about all different things, feeling your curiosity grow at mention of something that sounded familiar to you and asked about it which caused the blond princess to explain in detail that it was something connected to Daemon and yorself. Letting out a sharp gasp as your eyes shut tightly and you held your head as the pain from when this all started seemed to be the worst you had ever dealt with even as the blond princess tried asking if you were alright only taking a few minutes before nodding your head as you stood up with no explanation going back to the chambers you once shared with Daemon and opened the door as you stood there shocked and tears in your eyes softly whispering.

"I remember."

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 65)

It was Uzi's birthday today.

Today she turned 19, her and N were now officially the same age… at least until his own birthday in a couple months, where they would once again be a year apart.

She was… also beginning to show, not a lot, but what used to be uniform, flat rubber was now slightly distended, curving outwards ever so slightly, though still able to be hidden under her hoodie.

Though, she needed to make that announcement, though she was dreading it, how her father might react to her pregnancy. Or how… anyone would react, Thad probably wouldn't care, he'd be as chill about is as ever, but V also worried her slightly.

She was upset when they'd adopted Tera, bringing a child into their complicated lives and solver bullshit, something that had indeed brought the child into danger several times. She'd probably flip her lid to find out that another was well on it's way.

It would soon be impossible to hide however, and announcing it now was better then letting it ride any longer.

At this very moment though, she was looking into the mirror present in the bedroom, running a hand down her bare midsection and slightly stretched rubber. Getting ready to go to her Dad's, who'd set up a small party for her and invited everyone.

N was on the bed, his coat over his shoulders but completely open at the front, exposing his white chassis and glowing golden core. He gazed at her, a small exhale leaving his lips.

“If you're worried about how you look, don't, you're beautiful.” He hummed, watching as she looked conflicted into the mirror, eyebrows furrowing and frown etched on her face.

He stood up, crossing the distance between them before wrapping his arms around her from behind, purring like a motorboat while he rested his hand over the one resting on her midsection, letting both hers and and his own run over it.

“We're telling them today. Would it matter if they could?” He asked, right up against her audio input, his tail wrapping around her leg as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“Yes? No? Ugh, I don't know.” She leaned her head back into him before closing her eyes.

In all honesty, she felt lousy. While not as persistent or intense as it was during the first week or two, she still often got sick in the morning, if not outright, then the persistent dizziness often made her wish she did. Not to mention she was constantly forgetting where she put things, or even if she already did a task that day or not.

It was infuriating! Which instead of making her bitter like it normally did, made her cry instead. Like an emotional time-bomb ready to be set off by the slightest inconvenience.

At least she wasn't hungry anymore, that was being by handled by N stopping by the market and picking up what was essentially construction materials and tech components for her to chew on whenever her body needed more material. The best thing so far had been a microprocessor that had bits of silver and gold inside…

“Mmmh” She mumbled as she crossed her arms and looked away from the mirror, but then N's hands were rubbing into her shoulders and she felt herself relax, “tense” would probably be an understatement with how she'd been feeling lately.

“I think you'll feel better after you tell everyone, then you'll have your whole family to support you, instead of just me.” He kissed the side of her head before backing off slightly to button up his coat and try to tame his unruly hair. She turned, pulling on her hoodie as she looked to the ground.

“I'm not sure Dad's going to be stoked to find out a murder drone knocked up his eighteen year old daughter.” She raised a sarcastic eyebrow in his direction and he smiled in return.

“Not just him, Thad, V and Lizzy… to an extent. Will all be there to help you.”

She made another noncommittal noise before putting her beanie on and looking back in the mirror, she… couldn't tell that anything was amiss even when she knew there was, so she sighed in relief.

“I don’t know how much help they're going to be.”

“Trust me?” He replied, standing beside her and cupping her cheek, near forcing her to look at him and away from the mirror. He kissed her visor lovingly, and while this wasn't a new action, a very common one in fact, she blushed and nodded.

When they came out of the bedroom Tera was waiting for them on the couch, chewing into the rubber of her teether while making her little stuffed bat fly around above her with her arm.

“You ready to go?” N hummed picking her up in a single scoop, she squealed and giggled, whole face breaking into a smile as soon as he lifted her up. He was glad that after everything she'd been through she still seemed as happy as ever.

…

At Khan’s house, he was putting the last finishing touches on the decorations and the food for Uzi's birthday party, his little girl was 19 today and boy had a lot happened this year, Uzi had snuck out… led a disassembly drone into the bunker. He'd made the greatest mistake of his life. Then his daughter found a partner with said disassembly drone. Adopted a baby, moved in together.

Crap, Uzi was growing up so fast, it felt like just yesterday he was teaching her the difference between a wrench and an auger, and tucking her in at night.

He shook those thoughts away, today was Uzi's day. Not his, and he wouldn't ruin it by thinking about all the ways he'd messed up.

The decorations were simple, a purple banner along the ceiling that said Happy Birthday, and little plastic bats and spiders were placed everywhere that made sense, and underneath the food on the countertop was a black tablecloth.

Thad was already here, he'd been instrumental in helping Khan set up from the very beginning, as soon as the word party left his lips it was like Thad was an activated sleeper agent, immediately offering to help and set up.

He'd invited both V and Lizzy, but he wasn't sure either of them were coming, he knew Lizzy had a rather strained relationship with his daughter, and that V was much the same, though was essentially all the family N had.

Still, somehow he figured the smaller crowd would be something Uzi preferred anyway instead of throwing something huge or flashy with a bunch of people she didn't know.

There was a knock on the door, and both he and Thad looked at each other before Thad threw himself over the couch to act natural and Khan went to open the door.

“Uzi! N! You're here! Come in, Come in!” Khan smiled brightly, moving out of the way do that the couple and their toddler could move past him. Thad grinned and waved at both of them, getting up off the couch to greet them.

Thad an N did a fist bump, both grinning wildly at the sight of thier buddy. And he gave a tiny wave to Tera, who was already vibrating in excitement at the sight of the green boy in the backwards hat.

When he got to Uzi, they were both surprised when Thad wrapped her in a tight hug, one that made it seem that he'd been worried about her. N was only half-surprised when he didn't feel possessive in response to it, instead he only smiled.

“I've been kinda worried about you, you looked in rough shape last time I saw you, and we've only talked through text.”

He pulled away, leaving Uzi to do the same before rubbing the back of her head and smiling warily. “Sorry, it took a little bit to recover. Then we got busy…”

“No worries! So long as you and N are okay I get it, being parents can't be easy I imagine.”

She smiled, nodding her head.

No, it hadn't been easy, Tera was a good kid, rarely cried or threw tantrums, but that didn't mean it still wasn't difficult. Sometimes she wouldn't be able to sleep and she'd wake them up every hour or two, upset and tired, keeping them up all night. Sometimes Uzi would overfeed her slightly and she'd get sick, or just have a tummyache and fuss and cry in response. Sometimes Tera would demand attention at an inconvenient hour, either when Uzi was working on something… or at 2am.

Even still, it was incredibly rewarding, especially when Tera seemed to be the most loving kid in the world. She wondered if watching her and N be all sappy around her influenced that at all.

“It's not but… I wouldn't change anything.”

“’ad! ‘ad!” Speaking of kids, there was Tera completely butchering Thad's name from N's arms, holding her hands put so that he would carry her around.

“Hey you little football! You want Uncle Thad to carry you?” Tera nodded rapidly, and Thad looked up at N for permission, which he granted immediately by opening his arms and letting Tera pounce into Thad's arms, which took him aback.

“Woah! Someones got springs in thier limbs!” He laughed, and Tera purred as she immediately tried climbing up him, unsuccessfully due to her remaining clumsiness, but she did make a good effort.

“Hey Dad.” She turned to Khan, who had been standing back and letting the two have their time with a friend before he butted in.

“Hey dronelette.” He wrapped her in a hug of which she returned. She was expecting all the physical contact would be grating, but both Thad and her Dad had felt warm and soothing. Not as much as N, but still welcome.

“How have things been? I heard about Doll, glad you're okay.” He pulled back, looking his daughter up and down as he smiled.

“Happy Birthday Uzi, I'm… so proud of you. Your mother would be too, if she were here.” He looked a little sad, but Uzi punched him lightly in the shoulder to snap him put of it.

“Hey this is a party, not a funeral. You should be enjoying yourself.” She commented dryly, a sarcastic lilt to her voice as Khan laughed, shaking the emotions off again.

“You're right. Sorry -uh?”

There was another knock on the door, and Khan excused himself to go answer it. There at the doorway, was V, hand on her hip while the other was a massive claw picking at her fangs, at her side was Lizzy, one hand placed on V's arm, who looked disinterested in everything… aside from V.

“Were here to crash this looser party.”

[burntsaltsblog]

tw: 🔫 violence, reader is *pew pewed* and receives stitches along with other medical care.

Chapter two

"I don't get it. Why are you guys letting him waltz back in like he never abandoned us for almost three fucking months? Am I the only one still pissed that he left us high and dry?"

"No," Hughie articulated with his nose in a comic book. "But what other choice do we have? Whether or not we want to admit it, we need Butcher. You've seen how discombobulated we've been without him."

"Well, I blame the discombobulation on the fact that we were panicking over his missing ass. Now that we know he's safe and sound, he can fuck off."

Hughie looked up at me knowingly from Adventures of Spider-Man: Radioactive. "Is that really how you feel?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, scratching the side of my neck. "We're better off without Butcher, in my opinion."

"I hate to break it to you, but I think you're outnumbered. MM, Frenchie, and Kimiko want him here, so for the time being, we're stuck with him."

I scowled, falling beside Hughie on his meager twin-sized bed. I'd been hiding out in his room all morning to avoid a certain 6'2" beared Brit.

"You're going to have to face him eventually, you know," Hughie said quietly, his comic book long forgotten.

"I already did. Last night."

"You mean when you refused to look at him, much less acknowledge his presence?"

"Yup. That's all Butcher's getting from me. I'm going to ignore him until Homelander is dead, and then I can move to Antarctica and forget I ever met the asshole."

"But I thought you hated the cold?" Hughie pointed out.

"Yes, but I'm trying to get as far away from Butcher as geographically possible, so I can't be picky. Besides, I heard they don't have Cockney accents there, so that's a huge plus for me."

"Fair enough. Can I come to visit your igloo?"

"Of course," I beamed at my friend. "You're welcome anytime. In fact, I'm going to build you a guest igloo, so-"

The door to Hughie's bedroom creaked open, disrupting our conversation.

"Monsieur Charcuter would like a word with all of us," Frenchie said, popping his head in.

"Great," I mumbled, agitated at having to face Butcher. I looked at Hughie, and he could see my displeasure.

He patted my shoulder as we walked out the door. "It'll be ok, Jo. Just keep your cool like you did last night."

"What, you think I'm going to blow up at him?" I asked, now whispering as we both took a seat on the couch. Frenchie was squeezed in the armchair with Kimiko while Butcher and MM stood around the coffee table, murmuring to each other lowly.

"I think it's plausible, yes."

I scowled at Hughie before crossing my arms and gluing my eyes to the floor as Butcher cleared his throat, garnering everyone's attention.

"Good news. I just got off the phone with Raynor, and we have a meetin' scheduled today at four-thirty."

"Location?" MM questioned.

"The parkin' lot of an old car factory. She wanted to meet someplace off the grid to avoid being spotted."

"That's awesome," Hughie said. "Maybe before we hand over the Compound V, we can use it to leverage our freedom, so we don't have to hide here anymore."

"One thing at a time, lad," Butcher instructed. "And speakin' of the Compound V, which one of ya' cunts has it?"

Wordlessly, I pulled the small vile out of my pocket and placed it on the coffee table for everyone to see.

"Seriously, Hughie?" MM chided. "You gave it the junkie?"

I glared at him, insulted, as Hughie quickly defended his actions. "What? She's the lightest sleeper, so I figured she'd be the hardest to steal it from."

"And I'm not a junkie," I cut in. "I'm perfectly sober."

"Yes, but will you still be in roughly six hours? We all know where you go every night."

Anger flared in my belly, and I rose to my feet, ready to fight, before Hughie pulled me back down. "Ignore him," he advised in a hushed tone.

Butcher raised his hands, deciding to intervene. "Oi, twats, knock it off. We have more important things to discuss than Jo's love of a good bump." He paused briefly before continuing. "And while I have you lot here, there's a few things I'd like to get off me chest."

The room was quiet, giving Butcher the floor.

"I've been a proper cunt these past few months with me runnin' off and all. And I know I owe ya' an explanation, but I can't give one. I just need ya' to trust me that it was for a good fuckin' reason, and I wasn't off having a good wank somewhere."

I huffed out a breath, earning an elbow in the ribs from Hughie.

"What I'm tryin' to say," Butcher's voice grew softer, gentler even. "Is that m'sorry. I left without so much as a word, and you deserve better than that."

Without meaning to, I looked up and was taken aback by Butcher's contrite expression that was aimed only at me. His dark eyes roamed my face, and I squirmed in my seat, having gotten out of the habit of being under his intense gaze.

"Good girl," Butcher praised as he eased two of his thick fingers into my slick pussy.

"Please," I whimpered as my eyes glistened with need.

"S'ok, love. I've gotcha. After I've stretched out your pretty cunt for my cock, I'm gonna fuck ya' like the needy pup you are."

I audibly swallowed as I refocused my eyes on the scene in front of me. My pulse raced, and my clothes scratched against my feverish skin as I forced myself to ignore the explicit images replaying in my head.

It was clear that Butcher was expecting a verbal acceptance of his apology. But, I merely shifted my gaze to study my damaged cuticles instead, as if nothing had ever happened.

I heard Butcher sigh before MM cleared the awkward air by saying, "Look, man, we're glad you're back, and it'd be great if you could restrain yourself from being a dick and leaving again until we have Homlander in a grave along with the other son of a bitch supes."

Butcher agreed before he dismissed us, stating that we had to meet upstairs in the pawn shop at four o'clock sharp to leave for the meeting with Raynor.

༺༻

"Are you sure this is the right place?" MM asked, unconvinced, as he drove our broken-down van into the neglected parking lot. The cement had deep cracks, allowing weeds and dandelions to pop through. Up ahead, an old car factory could be seen, decorated in distasteful graphite and broken widows.

"Positive," Butcher confirmed from the passenger seat. "Found the place myself and knew it was a perfect area to meet Raynor."

MM parked the van between two barely visible yellow lines. "You couldn't have found a less sketchy spot?"

"Well, I was gonna suggest your mum's cunt, but I figured you'd prefer someplace more private."

A string of curses could be heard from MM, but we were all distracted by the sleek, back SUV that pulled up directly beside us.

"Right, show time," Butcher announced before quickly slapping a hand over MM's shoulder, holding him back from exiting the vehicle. "You let me do all the talkin', yeah? I know how to handle Raynor."

MM was silent as he deliberated Butcher's command before pointing a finger in his boss's face. "You better not fuck this up."

"You’ve got no faith in me," Butcher exclaimed as a faux look of hurt crossed over his face.

"For good reason," MM muttered, finally having permission from Butcher to get out.

The rest of us followed suit as we piled out of the back of the van. I rounded the side of it just in time to see Butcher greet Raynor with his arms wide open. "Susan, how lovely to see you."

"Yeah, yeah," Raynor rolled her eyes, getting down to business. "Do you have a sample of the unconfirmed drug?"

"You look more beautiful than that last time I saw ya'," Butcher continued as if he didn't hear a word she'd said, cockily tilting his head from side to side.

"Billy, I don't have all day," Raynor pressed, unamused.

Butcher waited a beat before sighing, lowering his head in defeat. "Alright, fine. You're much nicer when you're sloshed."

Raynor's glare was heated, but Butcher didn't seem to notice as he fished through the pockets of his trench coat. "It's here in me, uh, pocket somewhere," he murmured more to himself than anyone else. "Aha! Here we go," Butcher finally announced, proudly handing over the clear vial. "One order of Compound V, just like I promised."

Raynor held the sample of blue liquid up to the light, studying it. "If I come to find out that this is fucking Koolaid, or some other concoction mixed up to deceive me, I will hand you over to the government before you even have the chance to piss for the last time. Do you understand?"

Butcher pressed a hand against his heart as he stared at Raynor with wide eyes. "Do you not trust me, Susan? I thought we was past all that, love."

"Billy, tell me that you understand," Raynor said, not breaking her eye contact with Butcher.

I watched as Butcher clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together. To this day, Butcher was dreadful at heeding anyone's warnings. It was a personality trait embedded deep within his soul.

"Oh, I understand," he whispered darkly. I understand perfectly." It sounded something way too close to a threat, but Raynor seemed satisfied.

"Wonderful," she said. "I'll take this sample down to the labs and have my guys run some tests."

Butcher nodded before folding his hands together. "In the meantime, Susan, I believe we deserve some compensation for being so heroic as to nick the Compound V from Vought's lab and place it into your competent hands."

I hid my chuckle as I shook my head. It was Annie who had been so brave as to grab the sample. But, of course, Butcher had no problem with taking credit.

"What do you want?" Raynor asked, crossing her arms, already suspecting the worst.

"Just a little immunity so we can walk down the bleedin' street without our heads gettin' fuckin' blown off," Butcher answered casually before pulling MM forward. "And Marvin here would like to see his daughter. But I know that shouldn't be too difficult for a woman as powerful as yourself."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Susan admonished him. "If I were at all influential, Homelander would be dead, or at least detained, and we wouldn't be faced with this fucking dumpster fire-"

In reality, it all happened in the blink of an eye, but in my head, it stretched for an eternity, never ceasing.

Susan Raynor's head exploded, leaving her neck bared and bloodied as the remaining parts of her body crumpled to the ground. Shock wracked my system before I leaped into action, grabbing my gun from where it was tucked in my boot.

Bullets flew around our heads as Billy billowed, "Get in the bloody van!"

Our bodies clashed with each other as we hastily dashed to the van while Hughie screamed at an impressive volume. I turned my head frantically, looking for the shooters and source of violence, but much to my confusion, I saw nothing but an empty parking lot.

Just as I jumped into the back of the van, hot on MM's heels, a searing, hot pain erupted in my stomach. "Fuck," I hissed, immediately placing my hands on my abdomen where it burned. I peered down and watched in horror as blood seeped between my fingers.

Butcher bounded in behind me and slammed the double doors shut, all while angrily shouting at Frenchie, who was sitting in the driver's seat with Kimiko next to him. "Drive! Fuckin' drive!"

Frenchie swore sharply in his native tongue, throwing the dilapidated automobile into drive before slamming his foot on the gas, throwing us all around as he sped out of the parking lot and away from the invisible enemy.

As my body lurched forward, my knees gave out, and they slammed into the dirty floor. Blood now covered both my hands, trailing down my wrists as I curled in on myself.

"You good?" MM asked, placing a hand on my shoulder as he assessed my weakened form. "Oh, shit," he exclaimed when his eyes landed on the blood.  

I was vaguely aware of Butcher as he joined MM and hovered over me, wanting to see what the issue was. But I didn't hear his yell of alarm as the world around me began to spin.

"I think I'm going to pass out," I mumbled.

"No, no. Whatever you do, Jo, do not pass out," MM warned as he began rifling through the makeshift first aid kit stored in the back of the van. "Keep her awake," he called over his shoulder to Butcher.

"Ok, love, c'mere." Butcher instructed, settling beside me on the ground and pulling me towards him so my back rested against his chest, holding me steady.

I whined at the sudden movement, and he instantly apologized, "M'sorry, doll. Didn't mean to hurt ya'."

"It burns," I whimpered as Butcher replaced my hands with his, putting pressure where the bullet was buried in my skin.

"I know, I know," he whispered, grazing his lips against the side of my temple. "But, dontcha worry. MM is gonna get the little bugger outta ya', and then you'll be right as rain."

"How much longer till we get back to base?" MM yelled up to Frenchie, who was ignoring every speed limit as he drove us home.

"At least an hour," he replied.

"Fuck, we don't have time," MM said, looking at Butcher. "I have to take the bullet out now and sew her up, or she's going to bleed out before we get back to the safe house."

Blood now caked Butcher's hands, the entirety of my shirt, and most of my pants. My vision blurred as my head fell back against Butcher's shoulder, lacking the energy I once had.

"Do what ya' have to do," he said.

MM nodded before turning back to his first aid kit, determined as he pulled a lighter, forceps, and a needle out.

"No," I cried, squirming in Butcher's hold when I saw the needle. "Please, I don't want it."

"Shh, s'ok," Butcher said, attempting to soothe me.

"No, I don't want it," I said again, with more emphasis in my hazy state as I struggled in his lap.

MM brought his supplies over and held up a hand to calm me. "I've done this a million times on the field. I can assure you that I know what I'm doing."

I shook my head relentlessly, increasing my dizziness. MM looked at Butcher helplessly, and Butcher replied to his unasked question.

"She doesn't like needles or any sort of sharp object. S'like a phobia or something," Butcher said gruffly.

"Look," MM offered, trying to reason with me. "If I could stitch you up with a butterfly or a fucking golden retriever puppy, I would. But a needle is our only option, kid. I'm sorry."

My eyes welled, and fat tears rolled down my cheeks. MM regarded me with genuine sympathy. "I'll make it as painless as I can. I promise."

MM looked back at Butcher for the signal to start, and I felt Butcher's chin brush against the top of my head as he nodded, granting MM his approval to begin the procedure.

MM made quick work of running a pair of scissors up my shirt before the sodden fabric fell away from my body, leaving my torso and chest in nothing but my black bra. He examined the wound before turning back to his supplies and retrieving a scalpel.

"The wound is too small, so I can't visually locate the bullet. That means I have to make an incision to increase the width so I can dig it out."

I let out a horse cry when I realized there was something else I was going to have to endure. I looked at Hughie, silently pleading for help. But he just peered back at me, concerned and full of compassion, as he crouched behind MM, assisting him.

MM flicked the lighter to life and held the scalpel directly in the flame, waiting for an allotted amount of time before he deemed the small knife sterile.

Carefully, he hovered over me, aiming the scalpel at the small hole in my belly. As I watched the sharp object come closer, I flailed in Butcher's arms, desperate to flee from his stronghold.

"Hold her still," MM instructed as the scalpel pierced my skin. I shrieked loudly as my tears came quicker. Butcher's hands tightened around me, but my much smaller ones reached forward as I tried to bat the scalpel away as it sank deeper into my flesh, cutting me open.

"Damn it, Butcher. Hold her fucking hands. She's going to cause me to slice her fucking liver, and I won't be able to fix that," MM vexed, pushing my hands away and their meager attempt to stop his assault on my stomach.

Butcher took hold of my wrists and pinned them to my chest. But all that did was make me sob louder as I continued to move about in his lap.

MM withdrew the scalpel as he sank back on his heels and looked up at Butcher. "You're going to have to calm her down. Or this will never work."

"I don't want it," I cried, but it fell on deaf ears as both men gazed at each other like I wasn't even there.

Butcher sighed before he turned his head, and I felt his lips brush against the shell of my ear. "C'mon, love. You've gotta be brave."

"No." I shook my head as I agonizingly eyed MM as he brought the scalpel back to rest against my bloodied flesh.

"Oi, none of that now," Butcher rebuked me gently. "You can do it. I know ya' can."

His fingers traced my wrists, still pinned to my chest, as he tried to distract me from MM, who was dipping the scalpel back into my mauled abdomen.

Blubbered pleas fell from my lips as Butcher bowed his head to whisper, "You're safe," he said, swiping a finger under my eyes to collect my tears. "MM isn't trying to hurt you, doll; he's helping ya'."

I turned my head to look up at Butcher, and his brows creased as he saw my face screwed up in anguish. "It's gonna be over before you know it, sweetheart. And then I'm gonna to take care of ya'."

I whined, bucking up into his hand that cupped my bare, sopping cunt.

"Such a needy little thing you are. Already drippin’ down your luscious thighs," Butcher smirked. "But, dontcha worry, sweetheart. I'm gonna take care of ya"."

Lost in the memory of Butcher and our heated night, I barely heard the clink of the bullet as MM dropped it in a small tin dish.

I hiccuped as I slumped against Butcher's broad chest, exhausted from fighting and blood loss. My eyelids drooped close, so I didn't even see MM retrieve the needle, mirroring his earlier actions and holding it in the flames of the lighter.

Butcher ran a hand over my forehead, carefully pulling back my hair that had stuck to my sweaty skin. "That's it, pretty girl," he praised, planting a kiss at the base of my neck. "You're doing so good for me. Just a little bit longer."

Butcher eased his girthy length into my wet entrance. I hissed at the sheer size of him as I felt my walls trying to accommodate his fat cock.

"You're doing so good for me, pretty girl. Just a little bit more."

He placed a hand across my lower stomach, gently massaging the tense muscles as he bottomed out. His heavy balls lay against my splayed cheeks, and I sighed at the feeling of being so full.

"All done," MM declared, placing a simple bandage over my stitches before promising me that he'd wrap me up properly once we got back to base.

"You did it," Butcher praised as his grip on my wrists slackened, and he gently placed my hands in my lap. "S'all over, love."

My eyes remained closed as I mumbled, "I'm tired." The fatigue was too much to ignore this time.

I felt the soft material of Butcher's trench coat slide over my upper body, covering me. The gesture made the wing of a butterfly flap to life somewhere deep in my stomach.  

"S'ok, darling. You just sleep," Butcher softly insisted as he eased a hand under my knees, cradling me against his body. He slowly stood to his feet when the van stopped in front of the pawn shop and murmured to me that we were home.

I heard him quietly thank Hughie for holding one of the double doors open as he stepped out and began carrying me into our safe house. My head rested in the crook of Butcher's neck, and I inhaled his familiar scent of whiskey, mint, and soap. It comforted me as the sway of his strides rocked me to sleep.

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

tag list: @weallhaveadestiny

@im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere

@mandossillyriduur

comment to be added to the list!🖤

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[an-imes-things]

hey, can I ask the reader to be Aizawa's daughter, but she lives with her mother in another country, so when the reader gets into a fight, her mother sends her to live with Aizawa, but she forgets to tell him, so y/ n arrives and says "hey dad, surprise?"

Omg that is such a good idea! Tho im not sure its what you really wanted, so enjoy some angst :)

Too soon

Summery : when Y/n gets in a fight with her mother, she leaves to go live with her dad after she trows her out

Tw : mother issues, kicking out

You never really thought your own mother was capable of doing something like this. You didn't think she really had a reason to.

You were a good kid. You had good grades, don't drink, smoke, do drugs, you're not doing anything troblesome at school, you were polite to everyone, didn't talk back. So you're really don't understand why she threw you out.

You just finished your last year of middle school with pretty decent scores, and you were preparing every day for high school, training and overusing your quirk to perfection. You wanted to be a hero, just like your dad. Maybe that's why she trew you out.

For some reason you don't know of, you never really wanted to ask, your mother hates heroes. And people with quirks in general. She always said that heroes think they're better than everyone else just because they are heores with awesome quirks, even though she herself has one. Which you think is a pretty damn cool quirk.

Everything she touches turns metal and if she wants she can turn is back. So you got a combination of both your parents quirk, kinda. You just got Aizawas floating hair and red eyes whenever your under effect of strong emotions or when you use your quirk. That is you can control metal.

By controling you can change its shape, levitate is, even make it liquidy, and if you concentrate hard enough you don't even have to use your hands, just have to look at it.

It's when you got it that you're mother started acting different. No, it's when you get the hang of it, when you learned how to control it and your glowing eyes and hair whenever you were sad or angry. It's like she distanced herself from you, like she was scered. And you never knew why. She would trow you her cold glares and frowns whenever she could.

So when she started that, you trained where she couldn't see, you trew yourself to work for school so one day you could pack your things and go live with your dad and go to U.A. to become a hero just like him.

You didn't think that day would be today.

You don't actually remember what went wrong today but the next thing you know, you're standing on your porch, locked outside your house with your things that mother packed scatered around you.

Imagine how shoked your dad will be when he sees you.

Usually, you would go live with him on holidays and your or his birthays and whenever you had a chance really. You loved your dad to no end and he loved you, too. You were his most important person on this shitty planet Earth, you were his little sunshine, though not so little anymore.

But he couldn't risk something happening to you. It was a dangerous life he lived. How many villains he captured and sent to prison, who knows how many of them hold grudges and want revenge. It's not a risk he wants to take.

It's not just that, but he's a bussy man, of course not too bussy to text you every chance he get and call you whenever he has time. He's a teacher over the day and a hiro by night. It's why you live with your mother. It's safer. You atleast have a parent most time of the day.

He was so wrong.

Usually, he could read you like and open book. Whenever you text differently or he hears strain in your voice over a call he knows imediately something is not right. But he was so wrong with your mother. And you thank whatever God watches over you that he is, he doesn't need more problems on his plate. So you put us a very good front and lied. Yeah, dad, we did this and that today, we're going here and there tomorrow.

That's why he was very worried when you didn't text him or return his calls today. But you were a teenager, you had friends and it was summer, so he guessed you were just hanging out with someone.

Imagine his shock and fear when he comes home from work and sees his daughter on his front porch, hugging her legs close to her chest and looking close to tears.

"Hi dad."

Usually, you were in control with your emotions, you didn't want people running away from you because of red eyes and floating hair. You allready had enough people call you witch in your 14 years of life.

But you couldn't control them now. Seeing your father, your favourite person in the world, here, in front of you after so long with such a shocked and worried expresion you couldn't stop it. A sob ripped itself from your throut and tears came with crimson eyes and a few floating strands of hair here and there.

Some work papers Aizawa was holding fell to the ground when he saw that. With a racing heart and with open arms he ran towards you and embraced you with his whole being. One hand on the back of your head pushing it to his chest, close to his heart, other arm around your shoulderd holding your shaking form close to him. With a shaky breath he let your name slip his mouth. "Y/n?"

"Dad." You choked back a cry and hid your face in his chest, holding him tighter around his waist, listening to his racing heart.

"Y/n, what are you doing here? What happened? Where's your mother? Are you okay?" He pulled away just enough to grasp your tear stained cheeks in his rough hands, turning your head around and looking for anything that is causing you pain.

He looked at you with such strong love and care you just couldn't lie anymore. You had to tell him everything that happened over the years. So you answered. "She- she... Dad, she threw me out."

His worried expresion turned to confusion and frown formed on his face. "What? She did what?"

"She kicked me out. I don't know why, I just- she said that this- I'm sorry I didn't tell you I- I didn't want to bother you, I know you're bussy and-" You rambled throu tears like your life depended on it, but Aizawa stoped you.

"Whoa, whoa, shh, sh, sh, honey, calm down, calm down, breath, you need to breath." He shushed you calmly and grabed your face to look at him. "Breath, Y/n." He took one deep breath to demonstrate, but it's like you couldn't hear him, you were still shaking and sobbing.

"But-"

"Shh, no, you'll tell me later. Now you need to breath, okay? You'll tell me evetything later." He took another breath and hold it in to show you. Seeing him here and beeing safe in his arms here calmed you down and you took one shaky breath. "That's it. In, and out."

When you calmed down you opened your eyes to see your hair down again and smiled shepishly at your dad. "Umm, surprise?"

He exhaled at you with a soft smile and hugged you one more time, just as tight as the last one. He kissed the crown of your head and breathed. "Oh, God, I missed you, sunshine."

With your face hidden you clawed the back of his shirt and said quietly. "I missed you, too, dad."

You stayed there for few minutes, just basking and each others presence finnaly after so long of not seeing each other. With a hand on your shoulder he rubbed your back and swayed you softly, like he did when you were little, kissing your head here and there. He pulled back and got up, grabbed your hands with his and pulled you up. "Come on, since you're here allready I have something to show you."

"What?" What could he possibly have to show you so sudently?

"Come on." He put one arm around your shoulder and guided you inside. Inside everything is just like you remember it, one simple home for a simple man. But, there was another door next to his room you don't remember being there.

"Dad, what is th-?"

He cut of by opening them, inside there was a bedroom. One queen sized bed, a table, drawers, everything a room needed. Everything was white, walls, furniture, exept for a black cat plushie on the bed, and a photo of you and him when you were little.

"Is that.."

"The plushie you left here 7 years ago on purpose because I was 'lonely', yes, it is." He smiled softly at you. "Welcome to your room."

"What?" You looked at him confused. Why was there a room for you at his apartment. Did he know you were coming?

Like he could read your mind he answered. "Well, it was about time where I guessed you would start calling me every chance you get and beg me to come so you could go to U.A. So, I did a little shopping and did this. Everything is white because I thought you would want to decorate it when you come."

While he was saying that you slowly get in and look around, well, there's not much to look at but it will be when you decorate it. You took the photo from your desk and looked closely at it. It was a first time your dad took you to an amusement park. With the exact same plushie he won for you now sitting on your bed.

Without any warning you ran and hugged him around his waist. Knockin his breath out of him he let out an 'oomph' but then hugged you back just as quickly. "Thank you, dad. I love you."

"I love you, too, sunshine."

A/n: allriiiiiight, what do you guys think,did you like it, should I make a part 2, a little series of y/n Aizawa? Let me know! Byee guyss, love you allll!

[earl-grey-teacake]

I love your baby!loscar au man

I need more of baby Logan with George and Alex, my 3 fav boys (other than Lance)

Thank you so much!!!🥰

I love writing about the 3 of them, it's always so fun for me. Lance has been growing on me so I need to go and watch videos and interviews of him so I can write about him in my AUs. 😂 The Secret Santa video where he got Fernando the captain hat made him rise exponentially in my rankings.

I wasn't sure what to write since I had so many head canons and fanfic ideas so I made a compilations of little scenes and moments! If you want any of them expanded or elaborated one, feel free to ask!!!

Logan is approximately 7 months old here.

Shots

"Does he really need the shot?" George held Logan tightly against his chest.

It was just him and Logan today since Alex was meeting with Williams. Logan seemed so happy and unaware in his arms and it pained George to know what was going to happen next. There was a reason Alex usually took Logan alone.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." The doctor smiled.

George paused for a moment. You can do this George. You put yourself in danger all the time for F1. You have it in you. You can do this.

"Okay."

The doctor smiled and wiped Logan's upper arm with an alcohol wipe before taking out the syringe.

"It'll be just a little poke."

George felt his hands get clammy as Logan remained blissfully unaware of what was going to happen to him. To the doctor, it must've been only a minute or so. To George, it felt like time was moving so insanely slow. He felt the way Logan stiffened in his arms and could see the way Logan's face scrunched up, wailing from the pain.

"There, all done." The doctor smiled and looked up. "Sir, are you crying?"

*******

Umbrella

Logan clung tightly to Alex's blue jacket. His little body was wrapped in a thick blanket and George walked next to them, carrying an umbrella over their heads.

"Are you warm Logie Bear?" Alex cooed.

Logan giggled before turning to George and trying to grab the umbrella. His attempts, however, were unsuccessful as his arms were a bit too short and his parents were actively working against him.

"Ah!" Logan turned to Alex and yelled.

"Aw, I know. You want the umbrella." Alex laughed. "You're too little though and we're both a bit too tall."

"Ah!" Logan turned to George in hopes that he would be a bit for sympathetic to his plight.

George only laughed though before kissing Logan on the head. "Maybe when you're a bit older, you can hold your own umbrella."

******

Accident

Logan didn't like the atmosphere in the garage today. Logan had fallen asleep when the race started and woke up two hours later to find everyone rushing around. He could see his dad's car was back in the garage but Alex wasn't anywhere to be seen. His dad always comes and picks him up the moment he comes back. if Logan is asleep, he brings Logan to the debrief or to the driver's room.

"It's okay. I know you're scared. Let's go wait in my office." James gave a thin smile and carried the baby carrier into his office. Setting it on a chair, James readjusted the blanket that was slipping off. "It's a bit cold here."

"UH! UH!" Logan was starting to get fussy. He wanted his dad. He wanted to go back to the hotel and play.

"I know. Your dad is just a bit delayed." James smiled before returning back to his phone, hastily shooting off texts.

Logan wanted to cry and wail because he wanted his dad. It had been so long since he saw his dad. Did his dad forget him here?

The door swung open revealing a frantic Mercedes driver with a bag slung over his shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I came here as fast as I could."

"It's okay, I didn't expect Alex to have to be flown to the hospital." 

George breathed a sigh of relief before turning to Logan and smiling. "Hey, Logie. How are you doing?" 

"Uhhhh!" Logan kicked his feet and held out his arms, tired of being in the carrier. 

George quickly undid the buckle and picked Logan up, hugging him tightly. "We'll go visit Dad right now, okay? He'll be so happy to see you."

"George, it'll be okay. Alex is strong, you know that."

"I know." Logan didn't know what was going on, but he didn't like it. Even his other dad hugged him tighter.

*****

No Dangerous Driving

People say having a kid changes you. When they were adopting Logan, everyone on the Mercedes teams told him that he would change, even the smallest habit that he didn't realize he had would change. To George, that was obvious. You have to make changes for your child. 

George hated being driven, he had to be the one driving. Even if Alex was a good driver, George simply was not made to be a passenger princess. Alex can complain and yell all he wants, but George simply gets there quicker.

However, when Logan came into the picture, the seating arrangements also changed. Logan was sat in the back, in his rear-facing car seat. Alex also moved to the back to be next to Logan and it was George, up front, all alone.

George saw it as a natural progression. Alex described it as overnight. George, who always drove quite fast and aggressively, had magically become the ideal driver on the road. Speed limits were observed, road signs were obeyed, and George was surprisingly forgiving to cars who merged without signaling. George had to be careful. He was driving his family around, it was his job to protect them no matter what.

*****

Albon Pets

"Have you seen Horsey?" Alex asked George. The cat usually stuck to his side but he hasn't seen him in 2 hours.

George looked up from his phone pausing to think for a moment, "No? In fact, I haven't seen any of them in the past 2 hours."

Alex looked concerned. The house was usually not this quiet. In fact, it was a miracle, Logan had been asleep for two hours without either of them having to go and console him.

"I'm going to go see where they are." Alex stood up and poked his head in the kitchen and dining room. Nothing.

"They aren't in the backyard or in the living room," George said, scanning around for any signs.

"Upstairs then?" Alex walked up the stairs and poked his head into the bedrooms and bathroom. "Nope, nothing here."

There was only one room left, Alex and George's room. Logan should be sleeping soundly in there but now Alex and George were concerned. Logan's interactions with animals were always supervised.

George gently opened the door, careful to avoid any loud noises that would wake Logan up. 

"Woof." The low woof spooked both go them. Otto looked a bit grumpy about being woken up from his nap.

The rest of the cats were strewn all over the bed and next to the crib, comfortably napping. Alex quickly stepped over the cats on the floor to check on Logan, his anxiety rising by the second before dropping at the sight of Logan peacefully sleeping. Horsey, never the biggest fan of the new addition, was comfortably napping on Logan's stomach.

*****

Uncle Charles

"Charles, are you sure you can do this? We can always leave him with Carlos and Lando."

"Of course I can. Do you think Carlos and Lando are better than me?" There it was. The competitive streak that earned Charles his place at Ferrari.

"If you're sure, then it'll be alright." Alex handed Logan and the baby bag over. 

"Bye, Logie Bear. I'll see you in two hours. Be good for Uncle Charles." Alex smiled before running off to his meeting.

Charles waved before turning his attention back to Logan. It's only been recently that Logan has become accustomed to being without his parents or the Williams staff. "Let's get you out of that hideous blue and into something Ferrari Red."

1 hour later

Toto received a text attached with a video of Logan all decked out in Ferrari merch. 

"I'm taking your star driver and your youngest fan❤️"

- Fred

****

Thank you so much for the ask!!!

If you want more of the little snippets or just want the full story of the snippet, feel free to ask!!! 🥰

[earlycuntsets]

07/2005 rock sound

english translation:

"mikey's way" before hitting the road again, heading for Germany, the band members take a lunch break… The waiter asks them if they prefer sandwich bread or a "French baguette"? The Way brothers choose French bread. Once served, Mikey Way's face falls in front of his roast beef sandwich. "It's raw!", the bassist wonders. (the only time of the day when he spoke…) "That's normal, it's eaten like that!", his brother replies. "Oh? Okay…"

"It was unmanageable on the day of the concert. It's too much stuff in one day. As a result, we rarely have time to enjoy the places where we stop for more than a day." Gerard then joins the rest of the group in front of the Carrousel du Sacré-Cœur. Together, the five of them happily indulge in a photo shoot organized for an English teen magazine. The photographer is keen to take advantage of the very 'Frenchie' setting of the Montmartre district. Under the astonished gaze of a few tourists who wonder what is going on, the group takes their place in front of the merry-go-round. "This is the first time we've been asked to smile for a photo shoot!" laughs Ray Toro, guitar. A fan of Jean-Pierre Jeunet's film, the group then recognizes a few places seen in the film Amélie Poulain. The tour continues, with a few comments on French architecture and culture. As soon as they arrive at the first comic book store, everyone forgets their fatigue and doesn't waste a second rushing to buy the new Star Wars figurines and other comics.

A customer stares at Frank before asking him if he's in a band: "Do you play in The Cure?" Frank bursts into laughter and answers in the negative before going to tell the others his little story. After a few purchases (Misfits figurines, etc.), it's already time to get back on the tour bus. "We write a lot on our tour bus. We've practically converted the 'lounge area' into a studio! We've already written a few songs. We might even go back into the studio after the tour. It's a bit different, but it's a logical evolution since Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge," says Gerard Way, who recently did some backing vocals for Every Time I Die's new album. But the band's current news is on the road. "We're thinking of doing another tour in the United States in September," Frank continues. "For the moment, nothing is certain, but it could well be that we open for a big band with whom we've already played…" Green Day? "We can't say anything," smiles Gerard. In any case, playing with Green Day has taught us a lot. Just by watching them. They can fill stadiums and keep a constant communication with the audience. Billie Joe is an incredible frontman. We are much better on stage today, partly thanks to opportunities like these. It's amazing to go from 300 people to 10 or 20 times more. A real challenge for us and also the best learning for a young band. […] Otherwise, we really want to do splits with other bands. We were talking about a split 45 with Alkaline Trio, it will be done according to our schedules." Time is on your side!"

[vulpixisananimal]

(. . . You wake up.)

(Where. . . Are you?)

(You feel your own chest rise slowly and fall as you breathe. It hurts. Everything hurts. Yet, when you try and move a finger, you feel nothing at all.)

(Are, are you dead?)

(. . . .)

(You hear someone's voice calling your name.)

(You're so tired. . .)

(You pass out.)

>>>

(You wake up.)

(Where. . . You're alive?)

(You're, you're alive right? Or, or did you die and, a-and. . .)

(Your body aches, stars, it hurts so much. You try opening your eyes, you can't Even do that. You trying making a sound.)

"Siffrin?" (Voice, it was, it was, housemaiden, Mirabelle.)

(You try to talk again. Nothing.)

"Don't, don't strain yourself, I'm here, you're safe, yo. . .re. s. ."

(You pass out.)

>>>

(You wake up.)

(. . . It's pitch black, it's night time.)

(You breathe in, and out. Your head. . . It sang, it sang so, so loud.)

(You're lying in a bed. Your bed. The blankets are heavy, your body is heavy. You keep breathing. This was. . . Your bed, or, was it? You're not just you, right? That's what you had gathered.)

(Who are you?)

(. . . You leave it for now, you close your eyes.)

(You pass out.)

>>>

(YOU'RE DYING.)

(YOU'RE DYING YOU'RE DYING YOU'RE DYING.)

(Your chest, your, your, chest, it, burns, you sputter, you choke, you can feel your hand twitching, body dying, can't, can't feel, think, can't-)

"SIFFRIN!!!"

(Someone's calling your name, someone's yelling! Somoene, someone. You. Knew. You felt a hand on your chest- You felt a hand HAMMERING on your chest! Again. Again. AGAIN. PLEASE. HELP. HELP.)

(Another voice, a third, an argument. It's. it's-)

"What happened?!?"

"I-I don't know!! He started like this just, j-just-"

"Heart attack, don't stop what you're doing!"

(It hurst, it hurts it hurts it hurts so much please. PLEASE. PLEASE STOP. JUST. LET. IT. STOP!!!)

"H-he's, I don't know if, if-"

"Do you smell that?!?"

(Hahahahahahaha this was it this was it this was it this was it You're going to die today. it's finally happened you're going to die. You're going to-)

(You feel a tug on your-)

(-THWNK-)

(You scream.)

"M-M'DAME!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?"

"I-I'll explain, in, a bit! Please!"

"S-siffrin! Siffrin you're ok! We've got you, we're he.... t... n...."

(You can barely hear them now. That rythmic beating on your chest continued. You were loosing energy to scream, to beg, to cry, to, to. . .)

(It all, hurts, so, much. . .)

(You pass out.)

>>>

(You wake up.)

(Everything. . . Everything hurts. . .)

(Someone is talking, talking to you. No, talking at you. Like you're still asleep. They're, they're talking about how you're doing, how everyone's doing, how their day is going. You don't know who's talking to you.)

(You, you're really not dead. . .)

(. . . It's a nice voice.)

(You pass out.)

>>>

(You wake up.)

(. . . You're not dead. A miracle. What did you miss. . . Right.)

(You got hit.)

(The sadness hit you when you were worried about Bonnie. Look at you, getting distracted, and you nearly died, again. Disgusting, you're disgusting. You deserve this.)

(. . . You open your eyes. Everything hurts, everything is blurry. You're in your room. There's, someone accross the way, sitting in a chair. . .)

(Odile. You look at her, it's all you can do, really. You're tired, you're so tired. . .)

(She looks up, and sees you looking at her. She get's up)

"Awake?" (She puts a hand up to your head, you wince, she hesitates.) "I'm. . . Going to check your temperature, ok?"

(Ugh, fine. It's, not like you could say no anyways. She touches your forhead, it feels like spikes, she takes her hand away.) "You still have a fever, can you talk?"

(She's worried about you. You don't reply.)

"R-right. . .." (She stands there for a moment.) "I'm, I have some some medicine if you can dr.. t. ... o"

(You pass out.)

>>>

(. . . Someone was calling your name)

(Your name, your name, your name was. . .)

"-Siffrin?"

(You open your eyes.)

(You blink a few times, your vision was blurry, but, you could never forget that face. Those eyes, that face....)

"Iiiiisaaa. . ." (You say, you're brealy able to smile, but you smile.)

(He smiles back, such a big smile.) "!!! Good morning!!"

"Mmmorning. . ." (You try lifting your head, you see stars-)

"O-oh!! Careful careful!" (Isa leant down and caught your head, his hands.... Soft...) "You stessed yourself, like, a lot, I don't think you should even move."

"Awww...." (You groan as relax back onto the bed.) "Wha, whathappened. . ."

"Uhm," (Isa rubs his neck.) "W-well, I guess what do you remember last?"

(What DID you remember last? It was, it was. . . It was. . . Ramos, Ramos came visiting, you talked, then, blank, blank and blank, then, talking to your family, Isa, Mira, Odile. And then. . .)

"Ra, Ramos visited, and, talked. Then blank. Then. . ."

"Then nothing?"

(You nod.) "Did. . They change, my memory?"

"W-well, you tell me! You're, Siffrin right now, right?"

"Huuuh. . ?"

(He smiles.) "Yeah!! Cause, well, Loop was helping us out a lot with everything, they explained you got effected by it, a-and, oh right."

(Oh, your surprise must have been obvious. Loop? Well, well, you, you knew Loop would probably be the only person who COULD have been around without you. But, they, they were OPEN about it? They TOLD your family about it?)

(You took a second to reply.) ". . . Y-yeah. . D-don't, remember after, after Ramos visited. A few, other, memories jumbled."

"And. . ." (He, looked worried.) "Is, Ramos a friend, or, w-well-"

(You shuddered.) "No, n-no. . . Don't, don't think so."

(His face relaxes, he strokes your head.) "Haha, well, looks like you're good then! I broke Ramos' star emblem and after that a lot of their mind craft dissipated."

(Well, that was good. You were lucky that only you were effected by mind craft, and somehow Loop or Mal weren't. Then again, it persisted through looping, too, so maybe not so lucky.) "Eeeveryone alright?"

(Isa nodded.) "Everyone's a-okay, even Ramos. There's a lot to go over, but you should be resting."

(Even Ramos, huh?)

(You close your eyes.)

>>>

(You hear crying.)

(Someone was crying, there was a weight on your legs, a soft weight. There was a voice, no, two voices. It was, it was. . . Bonnie, Bonnie and Nille. Bonnie was crying?)

(You force your eyes open. Bonnie was sobbing at the foot of your bed. Nille was reasuring them.)

(You talk with some effort.) "Bbbooonbonnnn. . ."

(Bonnie looks up, they looked devistated.) "F-frin!!"

"See? I told you they're a-okay!" (Nille walked up to your bedside table, oh, theres water there.)

"I-I know but!! B-but!!"

"Whahappen. . ." (You blink the blurryness from your eyes.)

"Kiddo had a nightmare." (Nille says, putting a cup of water to your lips, you drink it.)

"IT FELT REALLY REAL!!!" (Bonnie was, gripping your blanket.) "L-like! Like!!"

"Wh'kinda, nightmaare. . ." (You say drearily.)

"B-bad. . ." (They look away.) "R-real bad. Lotta nightmares. Lot about you."

"Whuh?" (About you?)

"T-there was one where, where you were yelling, and it hurt. A-and one where you, you killed someone. And, and one, where, where w-where-" (They're starting to cry again.)

"Boniface. . ." (Nille went back to their little sibling.) "It was all a nightmare, not real, right?"

"T-there was, was a nightmare, you, you, h-hurt yourself, w-with, with your y-your--"

"What'reyou. . ." (You, hurt yourself?) "I'm ffffine, just, tired...."

(Bonnie nods, you're drifting off again, you try waving goodnight but you don't have the energy.)

(You hurt yourself? You yelled at someone? Why so many nightmares, and, and why are they. . . Familliar. . .)

(Oh.)

(You pass out.)

>>>

(You hear people talking.)

(It's, just two people, they're having an, argument? No, not an argument. More like a discussion or, no, reassurance. You decide to listen in.)

"-even awake."

"I know, but, but if they do wake up you should talk to them, right?"

(Isabeau, and, and. . .)

"I dunno, Isa. I-I mean, I did some pretty bad stuff, wouldn't just, going away be better?"

"Rams, what did you promise me again?"

(Oh. Ramos.)

". . R-right, you're right, just, gotta be brave about it."

"See? Here, how 'bout we stick around for a bit to see if they wake up."

(. . .)

(Do we want to talk to Ramos?)

(. . . I do not like them.)

(Yeah, I know. But they made a mistake, right? Shouldn't they get a chance?)

(. . . Fine.)

(You open your eyes.)

(Ramos and Isa are both here, talking. Ramos, they seemed, different? It was hard to describe, it was like they were more, nervous? Less confident? Isa eventually notices you.)

"Oh! Good morning!"

(Ramos turns, catches your eye, then looks away. Isa nudges them in the side, until they say.) "H-hey, glad you're ok."

(Ramos. Ramos. Who you had considered an enemy not long ago. They just stood here, stood in your room, next to your, your someone-who-is-important-to-you. Not like nothing happened though, look at them, they're scared, nervous.)

"You. . ." (What do you even say? After all you went through. Do you threaten them? Say it's ok? Ask if they're ok? What do you do.)

(Whatever is is, it looks like they're expecting the worst. We made mistakes too, after all. Fine.)

"You. . . You're really stupid."

"S-sif!!!"

"N-no, they have a point." (Ramos put up a hand.) "I was being really, really stupid."

"B-but, still!!"

(You laugh, and then cough. Stars, that hurt. Isa rushed to your side, you cut him off before he can ask.) "I'm fine, Isa. Just, just a cough."

"You don't know that!! Change, I just want to make sure you're alright. I've been worried all week about you!!" (You can't stop him, he's getting you water. You accept it, of course.)

". . ." (Ramos walks to the bedside, rubbing their shoulder.) ". . . I-I'm sorry, about, about all that, mind, stuff."

(It was hard to Believe, they where just, apologizing. Just like that. After they hurt you, changed you.)

(But that didn't happen, did it?)

". . . It's, it's Even." (You finally say.)

"H-huh?!?" (They look surprised.)

"Not forgiving you, just, even." (You sigh.)

(Ramos looks at Isabeau, then back to you.) "You make it sound like you owed me."

(. . . Honesty is going to backfire on us one day.) ". . . We, killed you. Once."

"O-oh. . ." (Ramos sinks down a bit.) ". . . T-thanks for, uh, n-not doing that."

(You laugh again, not coughing this time. You and Ramos both knew things wouldn't just, heal up in a second. What they did to you was lost in the loops, just as what you did to them. You were still wary though-)

(Did Isabeau say week?)

"Week?!?" (You say, finally having that sentence register. You try sitting up.) "W-what, what-"

"C-calm down Sif!" (Isa gently puts a hand on your chest to stop you.) "It, W-well, yes, it's, it's been a week, actually just, five days but it's ALMOST been a week."

"Buddy I don't think two days makes much of a difference." (Ramos comments.) "'you're not supposed to craft time' and here's Siffrin telling Change he can do whatever he wants."

(You laugh.) "I met Change once."

"Oh yeah. . ."

"What, like in a dream?"

(You shook your head.) "When we fought the king. They were angry at me for looping."

(Ramos looks at you dumbfounded. You laugh again, and cough.)

"Here, Sif." (Isabeau helps you drink a tonic, it was some mix of ginger and. . . You couldn't place it.) "You should probably rest up now, right?"

"You've got to tell me about your traveling stories. W-when you're better." (Ramos says with a smile. You nod in reply.)

(They really were better, huh. . .)

(You close your eyes.)

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

what about Aaron forgetting his gf’s birthday but his team has all remembered and put something together because they adore her and he just feels dreadful so of course he has to make it up to you in 100 different ways

It's Your Birthday?

Warnings: Slight angst? (Aaron is basically feeling guilty), fluff, ever so slightly suggestive but nothing is nsfw.

Word count: 1.2k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

A/n: Aw :( Aaron would feel so so bad if he forgot your birthday. I don't know if I like the way it turned out :,) but I did my best and I hope you like it! Also if anyone wants to be added to my forever tags just let me know :)

Tags: @hotchnerbau (babes idk if you wanted to be tagged I literally forget who I mention these to so if someone wanted to be tagged and wasn't, I apologise)

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat

Aaron felt like he was missing something. Like there was something happening today that he was either unaware of entirely, or that he'd forgotten something. And he has no idea what it could be.

All day people had smiled at him, just members of the team. But a couple of them mentioned to him that "you must have something really special planned tonight" and JJ specifically said "If you want me to take Jack for the night I'd love to! My boys have been asking for another sleepover with him anyway." Anyway. Anyway? Something was implied and he wasn't sure what. It seemed so out of the blue.

Throughout the day Aaron forgets about how off he feels. He's shut in his office and after a number of hours there's a knock on the office door.

Penelope walks in.

"Sir! Hi! Quick question! What colour does y/n prefer? Does she have a favourite?" His brows furrow as confusion takes over him but he answers Garcia's question and then asks "Why do you ask?" She just grins at him "Oh, sir. You know!" No, he doesn't. But she leaves before he can ask anything else. He ponders momentarily before pushing the thoughts away and going back to his reports.

Another couple hours went by, he had closed the blinds and kept the door shut. But when he hears some sort of commotion outside his office, he quickly stands and opens the door.

He's met with party decorations all over the bullpen and you standing there with a huge smile on your face.

He makes his way down the steps and walks over to you standing with his team members.

"Honey, what are you doing here? What's going on? What is all of this?" The last two questions are directed more towards his team.

You look at him a bit confused as does everyone else. "We're throwing y/n a birthday party, sir! It's her birthday!" Penelope says excitedly but you look at him with a slight frown.

He looks back at you "It's not your-"

Aaron cuts himself off and stands there for a few seconds as he realises that it is, in fact, your birthday. And guilt immediately overtakes him. He feels terrible for forgetting. And the fact that his team remembered when he didn't, made him feel even worse.

"Oh, oh Sweetheart I'm so sorry. I forgot. I didn't...I must have just..." He trails off and looks down. He doesn't want to give you some excuse for his lack of remembering your birthday. "I'm sorry, y/n, really." He looks back up and he expects you to be upset, but he's met with a small smile.

"It's alright, Aaron. Don't worry about it. You know now. It's fine." You step closer and kiss his cheek, a kiss he doesn't feel like he deserves. Then he receives a warm hug from you but you're being pulled away by Garcia seconds later, something about cake and some gifts needing to be opened.

Gifts. Gifts! He didn't have a present for you. There was an empty desk with presents from the team on it and none were from him. He didn't have one at home. This all completely slipped his mind. He's internally scolding himself but he puts on a little smile every time you look at him.

He starts thinking of ways he can make it up to you. Of course, one option would be taking JJ up on her earlier offer and giving you a fun birthday night. But he wants to give you more than that. He's thinking more on the material side of things. Jewelry immediately pops into his head. He has a necklace hidden away for your upcoming anniversary (upcoming as in six months away, ever the planner aside from this one time) but it's meant for that day and there's even a card written with it about the anniversary. Not your birthday. And you already know that he's forgotten now. He can't play it off like he already had the necklace as a birthday gift.

He watches you open all of your presents. One from each member of the team (apart from him) but there are at least five from Penelope. Which doesn't surprise anyone, really.

He's watching your face light up as you see each new item and read each card, all having meaningful words written in them. You weren't on the team. You're a civilian. But the team loves you like family and you're close friends with them all. You see them as much as possible given their work and their lives outside of it.

"Aaron, look!" He smiles as you hold up the book that Reid gifted you. "You'll have to read it to me." You grin as you read the summary on the back of it. In his head he agrees. He'll do anything you want, especially now to make up for his lack of remembering your special day.

After cake and chatting with everyone, you go to Aaron's office when you see he's not out there. Leaving the rest of the team to enjoy the small party.

He's alone and sitting at his desk staring at nothing but he looks up at you when you walk in. "Aaron? What's wrong? If this is about forgetting what today is, it's really not a big deal. You don't need to feel so bad about it, baby. Really." He hates how sweet and forgiving you're being. The fact that you're not even slightly upset about it. That you're so understanding. But he knows he would be just as understanding if it was the other way around and you'd forgotten his.

"No, y/n. It's not okay. I forgot your birthday. I didn't do anything for it, I didn't get you anything, I didn't even remember to wish you a happy birthday this morning before leaving. Everyone except me remembered and even threw a party for you." You know he's eating himself up inside.

Walking around his desk and standing in front of him, you lean back against the wood and sit on the edge of it. Grabbing his hands and looking at him with a stern expression. "Aaron, don't beat yourself up over this. There will be more birthdays. And you don't need to get me anything. I don't care if I get presents or not. I'm fine with not doing anything special for today either way. But you can wish me a happy birthday now." You give him a kiss on the forehead and smile at him which he returns with the best one he can give, still feeling guilty inside.

"Happy birthday, y/n." He gives your hands a gentle squeeze. "But I still want to make it up to you." You think for a moment. "Okay. How about dinner? All I've had was cake because that's all there was here. Jack is with Jessica right now because she picked him up from school but I'm sure he wants to go to JJ and Will's for a sleepover. And you can make it up to me however I see fit." You tell him the last part with a smirk as you grab his tie and pull him to you, making him stand in the process. Slotting himself between your legs as you give him a slow kiss.

"I think that sounds like a good way to start."