#how she could never fit in.. and how she never felt connected to anyone.. and how she wanted to “become human”

[seyaryminamoto]

My latest completed commission may have been a bit ambitious... because I went wild with it. But I certainly relished in doing so :') Combining my favorite ship with my favorite-ever Disney movie is, uh... a dangerous concoction :'D

The commissioner specifically requested for Azula as Mulan, Sokka as Shang, and Xin Long (my OC dragon from Gladiator) as Mushu. The rest of the cast was up to me to choose, and I pretty much went wild rewatching this movie and picking out some of my favorite moments to recreate them in my style, with these characters. I came up with a lot of correlating characters between both ATLA and 1998's Mulan, but I couldn't hope to draw EVERYTHING, unfortunately. Still, if you want my reasoning for the cast correlation... check out the Read More! Beyond that, feel free to reach out to me if you'd like to commission me, or if you want to join my Patreon!

The Herbalist as Mulan's grandmother might feel arbitrary but she honestly felt like the ATLA elderly lady with the most similar personality to Grandma Fa. Fickle, with a unique connection with a seemingly perfectly ordinary animal, old and sassy? Figured it fit! So for once, the Herbalist is Azula's grandma! xD strange notion, I know, Azulon/Herbalist is not a ship I ever thought I'd accidentally put out in the world but there have been wilder ships than that in this fandom...

Momo became Cri-Kee, I wasn't 100% sold on it but when I considered that Avatar features soooo many hybrid animals... I figured he could be a hybrid cricket-lemur. Weird, I know, but eh? Better than nothing xD

Aang as Chien-Po was a no-brainer. He's the only character I settled on instantly, never even considered anyone else for the role. Their personalities line up really well, and Chien-Po's tendency to be OP and resolve things that are outside of other people's reach sounded like he was prime Avatar material! So, while their dietary preferences are an obvious difference between them, I decided to go for it nonetheless considering all their other similarities!

Kino (another Gladiator OC) is Ling, and he actually did give me a ton of trouble to choose. I considered many characters for the role right up until I realized that Kino's personality actually lines up fairly well with Ling's, down to being a class clown type (who ABSOLUTELY would have cut gym class!) and breaking out in song about the hypothetical woman he'd like to fight for? Yeeeeah that's right up his alley xD but there's another reason why I picked Kino...

... And that is my likely unexpected choice for Yao:

ZUKO.

ZUKO IS YAO.

YES.

I'M NOT EVEN SORRY.

(For the uninitiated, Aang, Zuko and Kino are best friends in Gladiator, very often together, and they make a really good team, so that's the extra reason why Kino became the obvious choice for Ling aside from having really similar personalities, definitely closer personalities than, say, Jet, for instance.)

People have likened Zuko to Shang a LOT since ATLA aired. This is the main reason why I'm even making this huge note! I suspect it's primarily because of the aesthetic, let's be real here, and because he becomes Aang's teacher, but people have exaggerated Zuko's alleged similarities with Shang, or taken them out of proportion, in many ways. I actually remember an AMV ages ago with "Be a Man" and it was Zuko "training the Gaang"?? It... didn't feel right to me. Obviously, someone might rebuff with "well, how does Sokka make MORE sense than that, though?" And believe it or not, I have arguments for that... (when do I not...?)

Not only is this what the commissioner specifically requested (and it obviously lines up with the ship we love!), but let's examine the actual reasons why Sokka as Shang adds up:

Sokka actually had to train a bunch of toddlers who weren't paying any attention to him. You know. Kind of how Shang had to train the unruly soldiers who weren't getting anything right. Sokka has a positive relationship with his dad (Zuko, ofc, does not). Shang also has a positive relationship with his dad! And not only this, but there's a military component to both relationships, specifically with Shang wanting to follow on his father's footsteps and aid him in the war... so much like someone else I know, who jumped at every opportunity to rejoin his father in the war, even wishing to join him as a child until Hakoda tasked him with protecting their Tribe instead (kinda like Shang is tasked with training soldiers rather than joining a battlefield).

And the final cherry-on-top that I'd loooove to hear Zuko fans try to argue against... is sexism :') didn't Sokka get characterized as a sexist guy for four episodes, which made people decide that this was his main character trait even if it went away that quickly? Um, yes, that happened. Shang literally sings the memorable song that's a crazy ode to masculinity, including the rather sexist line of "did they send me daughters when I asked for sons". Shang outright abandons Mulan once they discover that she was a woman all along (while, admittedly, choosing to abandon her rather than KILL HER, which as we saw from Chi-Fu, he was NOT supposed to spare her!)...

So, is this REALLY what Zuko fans, who willfully believe their boy is a feminist king (... why? beats me...) are trying to compare their unproblematic blorbo to? :'D Me? I have no problem linking Sokka with Shang due to Sokka's beginnings and due to the fact that both Shang and Sokka have similar growth when it comes to accepting femininity is as valid as masculinity, and as they both learn to respect women as fighters and potential heroes! (I simply do not believe Sokka's ENTIRE tenure in ATLA was about that, though, and that's what I continue to clash with the fandom over...) So... all this is why I've reasoned that Sokka is a VERY solid choice for Shang, in fact, better than Zuko could hope to be.

... but this isn't all.

Maybe some might accept my arguments for Sokka-Shang. And then, they might ask:

WHY ZUKO AS YAO, THO??

... And the truth is it took me long to see it, myself, but HOLY SHIT, DOES IT FIT!

What is the primary thing we remember about Yao in Mulan? This guy is constantly itching for a fight, to prove himself, surely riddled with insecurities that he exteriorizes through overcompensation of masculinity. He's funny as fuck, but he's taking himself 100% seriously as a manly man all the time, and he's always ready for violence. But there's one more thing...

He treats Mulan as his RIVAL.

And more often than not? SHE SCREWS HIM OVER. Intentionally or not.

What does that sound like? Why, yes, it sounds a LOT like Azula and Zuko's sibling relationship!

The fact that Yao is a temperamental dude who lashes out easily at things (oh, something he has in common with Zuko!), that he specifically resents Mulan (in this case, Azula, just as Zuko does!) and is either constantly looking to defeat her and prove his superiority over her (... wait, just as Zuko with Azula??), that he has a black eye perpetually across the movie, and it's his LEFT EYE (just as Zuko's scar is on his left eye! :'D), that he's friends with a pacifist he has basically nothing in common with, personality-wise (just like Zuko and Aang!), and that he pretty much has a REDEMPTION ARC in which he goes from a bitter, asshole rival to Mulan to treating her as a friend and ally, to the point where he was disappointed to leave her behind and THEN joined her at once when she says she has a plan? :') I have always been critical of Zuko's redemption arc, goes without saying. But if ANY of these characters redeemed himself in any significant way, it certainly seems to be Yao to me, and with people gushing NON-STOP about Zuko's redemption? Why, he ought to be the character who goes from bitter rival to loyal friend, right?

So. I'm not even sorry. Zuko is Yao. And I'd dare say that he should be flattered by the comparison, even, because Yao ends up being cool as FUCK!

I don't really talk about this much nowadays, but Mulan was my favorite Disney movie growing up, it ABSOLUTELY had a formative influence on me as a little girl, and Mulan was my favorite female character for a looooong time. Thus, any excuse to rewatch this movie makes me happy as heck. With the wisdom of age I know, of course, that it's not perfect, it's not what China wants, it's not the most thoughtful depiction of Chinese culture or the most faithful adaptation of Mulan's poem (... but I'd also dare bring up that the 2009 Chinese adaptation ISN'T all that faithful either...), but it has a kind of magic in it, a solid storytelling flow, so many memorable moments one after the next, that I could hardly choose which scenes to depict... Disney has never again seen the storytelling heights it reached with Mulan in 1998. I don't even care if that's a controversial opinion in any way... this is their best animated feature for me, and nobody can change my mind.

So... depicting Azula, my beloved, in all these scenarios as this character I adored and idolized as a child, was so damn fulfilling for me. While some might think that, personality-wise, these two ladies don't have much in common, the fact that Mulan is sent to a matchmaker who basically tells her she looks good but is going to be the worst wife ever...? Our girl Azula, with all those insecurities about being unloveable and a monster, probably would relate big time to that.

Mulan is also an INTELLIGENT soldier rather than a brawny one, which is how she starts to make progress in the army, it's how she manages to overcome the huns with that avalanche... and Azula's primary difference with most other antagonists in ATLA is that she's smart as fuck. She is very strong, no doubt, but a LOT of that strength comes from her intelligence, from assessing situations in unique ways, from planning and strategizing. The way Mulan finds the most unexpected solutions that still pay off reminds me a lot of how Azula achieves unexpected feats through rather unorthodox means, capable of taking over a city with basically no bloodshed while her nation has spent 100 years trying and failing to do so through major army incursions and who knows how much senseless violence. Obviously, I'm not saying what Azula did is GOOD and it's kind of dumb that we always have to point that out... I'm merely comparing the magnitude of the feats, and the fact that they both come from ladies who use strategy and intelligence to achieve their goals rather than muscle and physical power.

And while anyone would rage at me for the comparison between Fa Zhou (her dad) and Ozai, the truth is the dynamic between them CAN be compared, if loosely: Mulan literally goes to war to keep her father safe. Azula goes to war under her father's orders. Hell, she makes herself BAIT in the Eclipse to make sure the Gaang won't get to her dad?? While it's very much possible to say that both characters have different personalities and attitudes in life... I'd also bring up that their contexts are evidently completely different. I wouldn't say for certain that Azula, had she been raised outside a Royal Family, would be EXACTLY like Mulan... but they might have more similar traits than one might expect. Ultimately, though... I love them both. And this opportunity to swap their places was pretty much a dream come true!

Alright, that was plenty of rambling xD ultimately, I had a blast doing this commission, as I'm sure is obvious by now. So! If anyone wants to commission me, feel free to check out my prices right here and hit me up if you're interested!

[mitakun]

i've watched the triple MyGO anime ep yesterday but i can't stop thinking about tomori.. i think she is the most autistic character i've seen tbh and i definitely had a spiritual experience while watching it ngl

[ohbueckers]

WHAT’S MY NAME? not everybody knows how to work my body, knows how to make me want it, but, girl, you stay up on it.

THIS IS PART FIVE! pairing, paige bueckers x tutor!oc. notes, it took me so long to perfect this the way i wanted so enjoy muahahaha. also paige saying she prefers netflix & chill fits so well with this it’s so funny. warnings, sexual content (thhhheeee moment) honestly just filth.

paige laid sprawled across the stiff hotel bed in austin, her back against a pile of pillows she’d thrown together. the only light in the room was from the bedside table lamp to her right, and her phone was propped up in front of her, angled perfectly so that she could take in every detail of liana’s face on the screen. paige knew she should be asleep, or at least pretending to be, considering tomorrow’s game. but she couldn’t help herself.

liana was curled up on her couch, wearing an oversized crewneck that slipped off one shoulder, revealing only a slip of her skin. her curls framed her face just like always, a few stray tendrils catching the light as she shifted slightly under her blanket. paige couldn’t stop staring.

“you look way too tired, bro,” paige teased, her lips curling into a smirk that liana was getting way too used to seeing. “let me find out somebody else been gettin’ you right while i was gone.”

liana’s eyes widened from their previously low state, the blonde’s words sending her into a fit of laughter. “please! you’re the only one keeping me up these days. literally.”

paige nodded eagerly, tilting her head up with a smile as if she was completely satisfied with that response. “good. ‘cause i’d hate to have to come back and handle business.” they’d obviously just been flirting, but there was always some realness behind that. it was more like, ‘let me find out naomi been gettin’ you right while i was gone.’

liana knew paige wasn’t just talking about coming back from austin; she was talking about coming back to her, making sure no one else had taken her place. making sure that talk had really happened.

liana let her head fall back against the couch. “work’s just been killing me,” she admitted, her voice a little bit quieter now. “and of course, i miss you.” liana, if honest, didn’t usually say things like that. not with naomi, not with anyone she’d been with before—at least not so plainly. but with paige, it felt different. it felt necessary. maybe it was because, since the day they met, they’d spent nearly every day together or at least made time to talk, even when things got hectic. it had become part of her routine, part of her day-to-day existence. and if you didn’t know, that’s the quickest, easiest way to get attached to someone, especially when that someone is putting in the exact same amount of effort.

it wasn’t just about the physical attraction, though that was undeniably there. it was the connection, the way they could talk about anything—or nothing at all—and it still felt like they were sharing something important. the little moments, the ones that seemed insignificant, were starting to mean everything. and that’s what made it all so complicated for the both of them.

“i miss you too, liana,” paige said finally, not able to hide the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips as she moved her arm behind her head, adjusting her posture a little. following that, she couldn’t help the extra bit of focus she had on her screen. her eyes scanned down liana’s face, and as she licked her lips slowly, her attention was fully locked in.

liana noticed immediately. the look wasn’t exactly subtle, it never was. it made her pulse quicken, moving her phone out of frame as she rolled her eyes, unable to keep the smile from breaking through. “paige, stop trying to rizz me up over the phone.”

paige’s grin widened, chuckling as she ran a hand down her face. “so it’s working?” she asked.

liana laughed, shaking her head. “yeah, okay. you know exactly what you’re doing.” and she did. paige always knew how to push just the right buttons, how to get under her skin in a way that made her feel seen and wanted. it was part of what made it so hard to ignore. and maybe that was part of the problem, too—because liana knew just how easy it was to get swept up in all of it, to let herself fall into something that felt too good to be true.

and then, just like that, the door to paige’s hotel room swung open, breaking the moment. kk came in first, loud as always, with aaliyah, aubrey, and nika trailing behind her. liana couldn’t help but laugh as kk made her way over to paige’s bed, the blonde’s face immediately scrunching up, clearly annoyed they were interrupted.

“yo, p, you still cupcaking your girl over here?” kk teased, making her way over to paige with zero hesitation. she leaned over her shoulder, her widest smile filling the screen as she greeted liana. “what’s good, lili!?”

liana chuckled, the tiredness from before easing as she straightened up. “hey, kk. y’all treating paige alright?”

kk flashed a grin, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed now. “you should be asking if paige is treating us alright,” she shot back, the blonde instantly moving against the sheets to jerk her head back at kk’s words. but before she could say anything, kk continued her thought. “she gets annoying as hell when she can’t get to her phone to text you back.“

paige immediately rolled her eyes, trying to play it off, smacking her lips. “alright, alright, i didn’t know the feds was in the room,” she muttered, shooting her teammate a glare as she made sure to move kk’s frame from the screen.

aaliyah chimed in, of course. “yeah, she’s been getting real soft on us lately—smiling at her phone and everything.”

ice just shook her head, laughing along with the room. “she’s down bad, liana.”

liana couldn’t help but chuckle herself, the entirety of their words being absolutely hilarious, but also cute. there was something in the way they all talked about paige’s softness, the way she was smiling despite their jokes, that made her stomach twist in a good way. she liked knowing she had this effect on her, that she could make her feel something deeper, something real. it made liana feel a little more sure of what she wanted, of who she wanted.

the exhaustion from the day began catching up with her, and as she yawned, she could feel the weight of it settling into her bones, covering her mouth. paige, ever the noticer, shooed her teammates off, her teasing tone softening as she let her eyes fall over the large frame on her phone.

“imma let you go,” paige said quietly, running a hand down her ponytail. “you needa rest.”

liana nodded, smiling. “yeah. you do, too, though,” she lectured, flipping over to her side. “good luck with your game tomorrow.”

“we’ll talk after, okay?” paige replied, her eyes never leaving her screen. she hesitated for a moment, searching liana’s face for any sign of doubt, any worry that something was off. the doubt still tried to worm its way into paige’s mind, especially with everything unsaid between them. but she didn’t prodde, as much as she wanted to. she trusted liana, trusted what they had, even if there were moments when it all felt a little too fragile. in a few days, when they were finally together again, paige knew she’d let her actions speak louder than her words ever could.

after a busy day being back in storrs—filled with practice sessions and home game prep—paige was finally heading over to liana’s apartment. it seemed like their schedules had aligned perfectly for once, but even so, paige couldn’t shake the nagging wish that she’d been able to spend more of the day with her. the season was always busy, but lately, she found herself getting frustrated with it in a way she hadn’t before. it wasn’t just the games or the practices—it was the fact that she actually had someone she wanted to see, and it made everything less satisfying because it kept them apart. the promise of a quiet night together felt like a much-needed respite. the evening had settled in, and as paige approached liana’s building, she felt almost nervous. she’d actually been invited to sleep over, which they’d never done before. it felt intimately scary.

when she walked into the apartment, she was greeted by the soft sound of running water coming from the bathroom. paige closed the door behind her, locking it out of habit before making her way to the back. liana had insisted she come in without knocking, saying she’d be in the shower when she arrived.

paige wandered into the bedroom, dropping her overnight bag onto the floor as she took a seat on the edge of the bed. her tv played some music, and although paige had been in this room a few times before, it felt strange… different. it’s only because you haven’t seen her, stop it.

she could hear the water shut off in the bathroom, followed by the sound of liana moving around. paige leaned back on her hands, letting her eyes wander around the room, trying to steady her thoughts, but something caught her attention, her mind obviously wanting her to do anything but. it was a small pile of clothes sitting neatly on the bed right next to her. she blinked, realizing that liana had left them there, which meant one thing: she’d have to come out in just her towel.

paige licked her lips, her nerves quickly giving way to a different kind of anticipation. she knew she should probably look away, give her some space, but she couldn’t help but feel like the girl had done it on purpose.

her attention drifted toward the bathroom door just as it creaked open. and there she was—liana, wrapped snugly in a white towel, steam still trailing behind her as she stepped out. her skin glowed, still damp from the shower water, and her hair was still dry, cascading perfectly over her revealed shoulders.

a smirk pulled at paige’s lips, saying the one and only thing that came to mind. “daddy’s home,” she mumbled under her breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

liana rolled her eyes, though the laugh that bubbled up within her betrayed her amusement. “whatever,” she shot back, quickly grabbed the clothes off the bed, clutching them to her chest as she turned, making her way back to the bathroom to change.

paige’s eyes followed her every step, appreciating the way the towel hugged her figure until she disappeared behind the door again. when liana finally emerged, she was dressed in an off-the-shoulder tee and a pair of short shorts that showed off just enough to keep paige’s attention firmly locked on her.

“there,” liana said with a grin as she walked back over to where paige sat, sliding herself into the space between her legs. the closeness was natural, easy, like it had always been this way. “better?”

paige shook her head in a way that was deliberately iffy, still smirking as she admired her. “eh. you sure we’re not married yet? ’cause it’s starting to feel like it.” her hands found their way to liana’s body almost instinctively, fingers resting just below her hips. the touch was subtle, yet possessive in that way paige always seemed to manage without trying too hard.

liana looked down at her, placing her hands on paige’s shoulders. “married, huh? i don’t know, p… feels like you’d have to put in a bit more work for that,” she teased, though her voice softened toward the end. they both knew what they were doing, toeing that line between playful and serious, testing the waters without saying too much.

paige tilted her head up slightly, eyebrows raised. “really? feels like i been working overtime for you,” she shot back.

liana chuckled, her fingers absently playing with the ends of paige’s hair as she looked down at her. “you think so?” she asked, overall rhetorical. “maybe i’ll give you some credit… for effort.”

a few moments later, the two girls had long since found their spots at the top of liana’s bed, limbs tangled up together like they were made to fit this way. the room felt even smaller now, or it could’ve just been the proximity. liana had her head nestled on paige’s chest, her cheek pressed against her heartbeat that was trying to stay at a normal pace.

paige kept one arm draped around her, her other hand resting on liana’s thigh in a way to ground it, keep it in place. because paige was sure if she moved, she wouldn’t be able to contain herself. that same leg was thrown over her longer legs, her body angling into her. the movie played on, but neither of them were really paying much attention.

paige’s eyes drifted down to the girl in her arms, watching the soft rise and fall of her breath, the way her lashes fluttered slightly as if she were lost in thought. she felt liana shift slightly, her breath hitching for just a second before she settled again. paige tightened her grip ever so slightly, as if she could keep her from slipping away. she wasn’t sure if it was for liana’s benefit or her own, but it didn’t matter.

it was liana who broke the silence first.

“paige?” she whispered, her voice slightly shaky.

“yeah?”

liana hesitated. “can you move your hand?”

paige adjusted her posture slightly, letting her hand slide a little further up liana’s thigh, closer to her heat. she was still gentle, her movements innocent from anyone looking from above the covers. she cleared her throat. “‘course. wanna tell me why, though, baby?”

liana turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting paige’s with some soft intensity. they could make out each other’s features through the dark, knowing it like the back of their own hands. “making me feel things,” she murmured, voice almost shy.

paige’s smirk softened into something more genuine as she tilted her head, or maybe more mocking. “that a bad thing?”

she hesitated, eyes darting between paige’s eyes and lips, chin still nestled comfortably on her hand. “no.” her reply was a short, almost whiny breath as she shook her head.

paige felt a sense of satisfaction at liana’s response, that tiny, breathy “no” probably making her feel the same way. she loved this—the way she could reduce liana to these quiet, needy sounds with just a look or a touch. she felt almost addicted to the power she held, the way liana’s eyes darted between her own and her lips, as if she were waiting for permission. but beneath that, there was a softness too that came from knowing that liana trusted her enough to be this vulnerable, to fall victim to her with little shame.

there was no doubt they were inching towards something they couldn’t come back from. it should be savored, or simply not done at all, but only one of those options were actually doable. paige let her hand move just a bit higher up liana’s thigh, right where the girl needed her to be, fingers curling slightly against the fabric. “good,” she murmured. “’cause i don’t think you invited me over here just to sleep.”

liana nodded slightly, smiling. “definitely not just to sleep,” and before paige could say anything else, liana closed the distance between them, kissing her with all the strength and roughness her smaller body could muster up.

paige responded immediately, using one hand to guide liana’s body until she was perched on top of her, straddling her thigh. the weight of her smaller frame settled perfectly against her, and paige let out a low hum, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling of the heat radiating off of her. it was safe to say that they both unshamefully had some pressure built up.

liana’s hands found their way to paige’s shoulders, gripping tightly as she tried to keep up with the intensity. she could feel paige’s muscled thigh pressing into her, and her body was already reacting, hips instinctively grinding down, seeking out more of her if that were even possible. it was all-consuming, the way paige effortlessly took control, guiding her movements, making her feel everything all at once. like she knew she had to.

paige slipped her tongue past liana’s lips, exploring her mouth as her hands did their part on her lower body. hands roaming underneath her shirt, fingers digging into her soft skin as she pulled her even closer. paige’s heart raced, her thoughts hazy with the overwhelming urge to make liana just forget about everything else. about naomi, about any doubts or second thoughts. it was just them now, and she was determined to make sure liana knew exactly where she belonged.

every little sound she made drove paige deeper into wanting her. she loved the way liana’s fingers dug into her shoulders, the way her hips moved so instinctively. it was the kind of control that went beyond just physical—she could feel it in the way she was giving herself over. her fingers slipped into the waistband of her shorts, moving them right over her clit, not being interested in making her girl wait. with thought-out slowness, she began to rub at her heat, feeling the dampness that had already soaked through thanks to her lack of underwear.

“fuck, liana.” her mutter against her jawline almost went unnoticed, her voice low as she placed soft, messy kisses along her skin. “so wet. knew you needed me, huh? could feel it the second you started grinding this pussy on me.”

liana’s eyes screwed shut at paige’s words, her entire body shivering as she pressed herself harder against her fingers. the slickness between her thighs only intensified, her need growing with every passing second. she could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words, but she managed to let out a shaky, “y-yeah… needed you… so bad…”

paige grinned against her skin, her lips trailing down liana’s neck, ghosting over the spot from their night in the car that had started to fade with time. she made sure to leave a new one, sucking at it relentlessly for a few moments. liana bit her lip, trying to stifle the whimpers that kept slipping out, but it was useless. paige knew exactly how to unravel her.

liana’s moans grew louder, her hips bucking uncontrollably as paige’s fingers moved faster, in circles, up and down… the pressure building inside her. it was overwhelming, the pleasure throbbing through her in waves, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. “p-paige… i’m—fuck!“ she said, clearly frustrated she could hardly get her words out.

paige watched liana lose control underneath her with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, quickly throwing the thick blanket off of them so she had more room to move. “go ahead. lemme hear you.” her heart pounded in her chest, her own restraint hanging by a thread as she focused on driving liana over the edge. none of their other encounters had ever felt like this, this personal and damn good.

paige’s words hit liana like a command she couldn’t disobey. her entire body responded, trembling as the tension that had been building inside of her finally snapped. she cried out, following the blonde’s commands word for word as every muscle in her body tightened, then released in a rush, leaving her breathless and spent.

paige kept her eyes locked onto liana’s face as she watched every moment of her unraveling, licking her lips and leaving them glistening. she was lost, so completely undone by her hands alone. “that’s it, baby,” she murmured, her voice bringing liana back to reality, opening her eyes as paige slowed her movements, drawing out liana’s climax. “so fuckin’ perfect.”

liana’s breathing began to steady, though her legs still trembled slightly in the aftermath. paige, all in her lust, leaned down, pressing a kiss to her lips. then another one, and another one… all while helping her off her leg and settle back into the pillows, smoothing the damp curls away from her forehead, her thumb brushing softly along her flushed cheeks. she just wanted to take care of her in every way.

for a second, paige thought about stopping there. that shared vulnerability was already enough, right? the way liana had lost herself, gotten comfortable real quickly—it felt almost sacred. they could have left it at that, and it would have been more than enough. but when paige looked into liana’s eyes—saw the way her chest still heaved with shallow breaths, the softness of her expression, the way her lips were parted in that unguarded, needy way—she knew they weren’t done.

liana looked like she wanted more. hell, paige knew she wanted more too.

she leaned in, capturing liana’s lips again, this time with more intent, more need, the kiss deepening as her fingers ghosted down her side. she loved the way her body responded underneath her, arching ever so slightly into her touch, like she was asking for it without saying a word.

paige pulled back just enough to murmur against her lips, “you good?”

liana’s eyes fluttered open, lips still plump, but there was a small, almost shy nod. “yeah… i’m good. i’m really good.”

paige smirked at that, kissing her again just to feel liana melt a little more before slowly hooking a finger into the waistband of her shorts, pulling them down and letting them drop off the side of the bed. she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of liana spread out beneath her, chest rising and falling as she watched her with those wide, expectant eyes. without breaking eye contact, paige grabbed the hem of her own shirt, tugging it off in one quick motion, leaving herself in just her sports bra. her shorts followed, discarded just as easily as liana’s.

leaning over the side of the bed, the blonde pulled her overnight bag up, rummaging through it for a second before pulling out the strap she’d packed. liana’s eyes widened a little, watching as she slid the harness on, adjusting it snugly around her hips. her focus was on the way paige moved—so sure of herself, so in control. but underneath that control, the girl was just as nervous, the receiving end of the strap pressing against her, giving her just enough to heighten every movement she made.

paige climbed back onto the bed, hovering over liana as she pressed a few kisses along her collarbone, down her chest. liana’s breath got caught in her throat when paige’s lips brushed just above her stomach, her hands instinctively finding their way to her sides, fingers digging into her skin as she waited for what was next. paige settled between her legs, hands firm on her thighs as she focused on stretching her out to get her ready.

“paige,” liana whispered, trying to find herself before they got around to that. “i’ve never…” her voice came out practically breathless, and it took a second for paige to process the words, but as they sank in, she stilled, looking up from where her fingers had been previously getting to work. her mind instantly went back to the conversation they’d had in the bar, the first time liana had really opened up. that night when she’d admitted she’d never been with any guys. she’d said it so casually at the time, and it didn’t matter then.

it mattered now.

she pushed herself up slightly, hands resting gently on liana’s hips. “it’s alright,” paige said softly. “we ain’t gotta do nothing y’aren’t ready for.” she didn’t rush or push, even though every nerve in her body screamed at her to keep going. liana’s comfort mattered more than anything else.

liana’s eyes were as wide as they always were, still dark with uncertainty as she contemplated something within herself. paige kept her gaze steady, her thumb brushing soothing circles against liana’s skin, doing everything to show her that this was her call. no pressure. no expectations.

she swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling as she looked at paige, the connection between them pulling tighter.

“i want it to be with you.”

those words, where she felt so sure, slammed into paige like a million bricks. it was everything and more than she’d expected, and yet, hearing it made her chest tighten. nobody had liana feeling like this but her. she let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, nodding slow. “okay,” paige said, her voice low. “just gotta know, li… you sure?” her tone was gentler than usual, but still distinctly her with that bit of edge that was all paige. she tilted her head, eyes never leaving the girl in front of her’s every expression.

“yeah… i’m sure,” liana whispered back, her lips barely moving as she adjusted her spot on the bed, and it was clear she wasn’t just saying it to say it. she meant it.

and with that, paige nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as liana’s first time was now left in her hands. she pulled back to focus, hands finding their way between her legs, fingertips grazing her wetness just like she’d done before. her movements were slow, deliberate, taking her time as she positioned herself, letting the tip of the strap brush against her heat.

she didn’t say anything, and she didn’t have to. she guided the tip along her folds, moving it slowly in gentle circles. liana’s hips bucked involuntarily, eyes squeezing shut as the sensation built. without another word, paige angled herself and slowly pushed inside, her movements careful and measured as she watched liana’s expression shift—first a slight wince, then her lips parting in a quiet gasp as she adjusted.

paige’s movements were thoughtful before they picked up, each thrust slow as she sought to make the experience as comfortable and intense for liana as possible. her blue eyes never left her face, as if tracking her down. the first subtle wince, the way her lips parted in a breathless gasp as paige pressed deeper another inch of her length.

liana’s hips bucked gently as she adjusted to the fullness. paige’s hands were steady, veiny, and using their grip firmly against her hips, sure to leave some kinda of mark. as liana’s breathing grew more ragged, paige guided her hand to her lower stomach, pressing it down so the girl could feel the bulge of the strap moving inside her. “feel that, baby?” her voice was low and throaty, yet expectant of an answer. “feel how deep t’shit’s in you?”

liana’s eyes mouth fell agape, her frame rocking up and down against the bed. her hand trembled slightly as it rested on her stomach, and the sensation was overwhelmingly good. she’d expected her first time to feel like a lot of things, this not being one of them. paige made sure to take care of her. she nodded, her voice a breathy whisper as she responded, “yeah… i can feel it… oh!”

paige’s grip tightened just a fraction, head falling over as she took in the sight herself, blonde hair creating a tent around her face. she let out a soft, appreciative groan, eyes locked on liana’s face as she took in the intimate scene.

as the intensity built, paige’s breathing became uneven, her hands still guiding liana through it, ensuring that every moment was as fulfilling as it could be. “doing so well,” paige murmured, as she watched liana become more lost in the moment.

her thrusts became more urgent, less controlled, and more sloppy. she could feel her own climax creeping closer—too close. she gritted her teeth, unwilling to let it take her first, not before she could feel liana fully surrender to it. with a low groan, paige pulled back, the sound of their heavy breathing filling the room as she steadied herself.

in one smooth motion, she shifted, pulling liana on top of her. “c’mere,” paige directed, positioning her so she straddled her waist. liana’s eyes fluttered open, dazed and already fucked-out, the slickness between her thighs coating paige’s strap as she lowered herself down, immediately gasping at the depth of the new angle.

paige’s hands found their spot just under her ass, fingers gripping firmly but leaving enough space for her to move as she pleased. “take it at your pace,” paige whispered, though her voice was thick with the kind of strain that said she was barely hanging on herself. watching liana ride her like this, hair tumbling down around her face, wasn’t doing anything to help her keep her composure. her hips rolled in the same motion over and over, riding like a fucking pro. no way she hadn’t done this before… or maybe the ‘things come easily to me’ gene ran further than just in the books.

liana bit her lip, her breath coming out in short, soft gasps as she rocked her hips harder, feeling every inch inside her. she leaned forward, pressing her chest against paige’s, entire body trembling as she whispered, “feels so good, p…” although it was more a whine.

“i know it does, li,” paige responded, her own voice starting to fray around the edges, overwhelmed by the sight and feel of liana on top of her, and now her broken voice saying all the right things in her ear, chests bonded together by the sweat. if this was what skin to skin was like, the blonde wanted to take her in like that forever. “takin’ me so good. you gonna come?” her hands slid up to her hips, tightening slightly and pulling her just a little closer.

liana’s body trembled, lips parted as she gasped for breath, barely able to nod. “yeah… oh my God… i’m so close…”

“yeah?” her response was breathless, almost there herself as she jerked her hips up to help, wanting liana to feel her deeper as she let her own hands drop, letting her get off by herself. “just let go. i got you.”

liana’s pace quickened, her moans becoming louder and more desperate as her body tensed. her head fell forward, hair falling over her face, and paige could hear the exact moment when she lost herself to the sensation. the heat between them exploded, and with one last thrust from paige, they both came undone at the same time, the release hitting like the best thing all night.

for a moment, everything was quiet except for their heavy breathing, the sound of their chests rising and falling in unison. paige could barely think, let alone speak, as she wrapped her arms around liana, pulling her close as they both came down from the high. the only light in the room came from the mounted tv, now playing random netflix previews, but it was the least of their worries.

paige was the first to break the silence. well, kind-of. it was a breathless laugh, her normal shit-eating smile returning to her face.

liana sat up from paige’s chest, her eyebrows furrowing in mock annoyance, though the corner of her lips quirked up against her will. “don’t look so smug.”

paige’s grin widened, hands still mindlessly rubbing her back slowly. “i’m liana bales’ first body.” her voice was filled with some playful arrogance, and she was clearly just poking fun, but she had only really come to terms with it now.

liana rolled her eyes, but her own smile broke through, and she shook her head. “don’t make it a thing.”

“oh, it’s a thing.”

[mrinafria]

[contains spoilers]

I'm an eternal digger of good narrative techniques. A decent story becomes great in my eyes if the narrative is done right. And it's one of the hardest things to do really, since there's no one-size-fits-all rule for what technique works well with a particular story and what doesn't. One of the primary reasons I keep obsessing over Lovely Runner is its' narrative technique. In all honesty, if it had a linear, singular narrative, I would not be hyperventilating over it on a constant basis (I still would just a certain amount, because both Byeon Woo Seok and Kim Hye Yoon deserve awards for what they are doing). One reason it has managed to knock it out off the park and take the top spot in my forever-favorite list is how wonderfully well the narrative is done.

The primary perspective used in this show is Im Sol's. It's through her we're introduced to the story. Her perspective gives shape to the plot, the characters, because we learn things through her. Her perspective is absolutely critical for exposition. Without her thoughts and way of viewing things, you would never realize why saving Seon Jae means so much to her, or why she would bend the rules and bulldoze ahead when it comes to his safety (exhibit A, her leaving home on the day of the accident, despite knowing about her fate). She'd rather have him alive than have him in her life. Without her narrative, you'd think it's really all about a fan saving her idol (thanks to everyone who'd rejected the script listening to that pitch by the way, I'm grateful we have BWS and KHY as the leads because of that, I would not change it for anyone else). With Im Sol's perspective, you realize, she is not just a fan: she's an ardent admirer, a cheerleader, a well-wisher, a protector, an invisible friend trying to support her friend any way she can, someone who respects Seon Jae, sees him as an idol but also as a human, someone who wants to give back to him the same kindness, empathy and love she had once received from him over a radio call. To her, Seon Jae is first a guardian angel and then an idol, the angel who changed her view of life, made her appreciate things even amidst all that could be wrong with the world and her life. He saved her. Not just on that day at the hospital but every time she struggled and faltered since then, he was there, as invisible as it may have been. So this time, she wants to save him, no matter the price.

Then comes Seon Jae. Oof. If Im Sol's perspective gives the story its beautiful, beautiful shape, Seon Jae's perspective breathes literal life in to the body of the story. The show wouldn't be what it is today if not for his perspective. Without his view into things, Im Sol appears as a fangirl going to extreme measures to save her idol, clinging onto him like a monkey (yes I mean the poster) embarrassing the heck out of herself, making you cringe (in a good, enjoyable way) throughout. Then you reach the end of episode 2 and it knocks the breath out of you because WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN. It all clicks.

All this while we kept thinking Seon Jae was caught off guard and just kind enough to tolerate her antics, and maybe he'd slowly fall for her now, only to realize we were completely oblivious to a whole different side of the story. If Im Sol's narrative draws you in and keeps you hooked, making you root for her to succeed, it's Seon Jae's narrative that makes you irredeemably fall in love with them and sincerely, genuinely, desperately hope they get their happy ending together after all the storm.

And the motifs. Walking/running, for instance. I'll focus on just one scene here. I recall seeing a bts where KHY is discussing the OG 2008 accident scene, and it explains how she has to slow down, while running away, for just a moment, only to be hit by the taxi driver. Have you ever been in a situation of absolute panic, desperation and stress, then suddenly found a familiar face or a name or a thing you could connect to, and felt a wave of relief rush through you? She sees Seon Jae, a person who is calling out her name. Even if she didn't know him back then, the fact that he knew her (and that he had his uniform on), gives her a sense of safety she badly needed that moment. That momentary relief, so visible in her features, then overtakes the crippling fear she felt running in the middle of nowhere with no one in sight in the dead of the night. Her body, already exhausted beyond anything, responds to the relief she feels for those few seconds, slowing down her steps.

And that is when she is caught off-guard and hit. That also might have added to Im Sol's anger at the hospital when she is screaming at Seon Jae, her internal anguish that if only she had not paused seeing Seon Jae, and kept on running, then maybe she wouldn't be hit, wouldn't fall, wouldn't lose her ability to walk. It's one thing to have tropes and symbolic things, but it's a very different thing to know how to use them effectively so they elicit very specific types of emotions/reactions out of people. Lovely Runner excels in that. All kdramas more or less have 'things' that take on different meanings for the couples/viewers. It's the way motifs are used to narrate the story in this one that has me going back over and over again to all the episodes aired so far. These are not just their 'things', these are 'things' that drive the plot forward, tell you about their characters, their personal motivations, what they mean to each other and so much more.

This is getting longer that I intended it to be so will end with this. I feel valued when watching Lovely Runner. And I've seen people saying the same thing. It feels like they respect your critical thinking skills, and your ability to infer, so they don't spoon-feed you everything from the get-go, and you can't predict much despite it being primarily a rom-com. You'd be pulling your hair out (again, in a good way) trying to figure out what they will show next, and you will be somewhat or very far from the truth, which will compel you to think further about the story, the characters, long after an episode has aired...I can't remember the last time it happened with a drama. I love this storytelling.

[nostalgicmiscellaneous]

This is long, but i need to get this out of my chest:

I have made so many post defending Penelope when people talked about her issues, her traumas but right now i feel like defending Colin.

As a woman, sometimes i naturally tend to feel defensive and shield the girl but i need to be fair here. Colin's feelings and trust were deeply hurt, Colin is insecure, soft, thoughtful, introspective, sensitive and suffers with a inferiority complex, and he struggles to know his place in society and among the people he loves, on what he should do and the expectations of society from a 22 years old man.

What many don't seem to realize is that Colin, even before knowing Penelope is LW, was very insecure about what she loves in him ( and even if she did in fact love him, because she was about to marry someone else), about being worth of her, he says he wants to do something, to publish his diaries because he wants her to be proud of him…he already didn't think he was good enough for and to her. Colin is insecure about not being good enough in every aspect of his life, tbh. His lack of purpose, faith in himself and on others loving him from whom he is runs deep. His moment of vulnerability telling how much Penelope not answering to his letters affected him, his family too was very revealing. Him screaming at Pen with tears in his eyes that he felt foolish that she read his diaries and praised him as something special. This is something i've noticed even in other seasons too. The family not caring much about his need to connect and his somewhat strained relationship with Anthony, who wasn't really a good male figure to him. It's about male ego? A bit, but it's deeper than that in the series.

Another issue is, he put Pen in a pedestal too ( much like Pen did until 2x8), to be honest, and that is never a good thing, because people are not perfect. And he needed to learn all that. There is disappointment there. But, again, it goes further. It’s him not knowing her as he thinks he should. It’s him perceiving her humanity but reflecting on his own. We have to remember he's so happy because Pen chose him, because he thinks now he's someone's priority and he's someone's focus. He has the immature idea that you should be everything in every way to the person you love, and if you can't be their protector and the hero in their eyes, why should anyone love you?

Then he finds out…and his worldview crumbles. Not only Penelope broke his trust and hurt him deeply - and she never told him and never would have - and it wasn't just himself but his family too, but she shattered his belief he knew and connected with her better than almost anyone else, she shattered his barely there newly found confidence and sense of purpose, what he thought was his sense of self now. All modern sensibilities tend to be ruffled about this, but i think it's a fitting conflict that he would have issues with her being so self-sufficient, so successful while he believes himself to be less, way less than her, so to Colin she doesn't need him, and if she doesn't need him, why would she love him? Why should she love him?

Again, there is the side of him conflicted about knowing her. The pedestal was broken, because she lied to him. She is this powerful, talented, successful woman on her own, not just the pretty shy girl with sweetness and great witty personality that he loves, the one that thinks the world of him. She talked about him, she criticized him and while it rings true deep down, it rings devastation, because she could see beyond his farce and it makes him look and feel pathetic.

So he's struggling with two things: on how to love her, all of her, and how to feel good enough for her, love himself. He's trying to accept her new wonderful aspects and her hurtful flaws because he never stopped loving her, in no moment we see anything but love when that man looks at her, when that man is crying because of her and his deep sadness and longing, his anger is laced with so much love for her. He's angry at her but mostly at himself and he needs to figure it out a way to feel like he deserves to be loved by her. It fuels his issues and he also over compensates.

His hang ups with LW becomes his tangible target. Not only he sees as a dangerous thing to her, it puts her at risk, and with that in mind he can put himself in a role of her protector again, but he fixates on the idea that without Whistledown she's the Pen that he can believe is able to love him even if he's not good enough. Without Whistledown she's not so much above him and not so far from him, because Whistledown is her critical eye, it's Penelope appraising people very analytically and if she looks closely, he doesn't think she will see much in him, as she proved before with he S3 ep1 comment. He wants to get rid of it.

Sure, he's jealous too, he envies her success but exactly because he resents how much that makes him less worthy. It's also another thing that he thinks she's putting above him. He couldn't see clearly that it wasn't something outside herself (and he gets it after), but part of who she is, and all of those parts loves him. It's foolish and it's nonsensical because he doesn't understand that she has seen his flaws but she loves him anyway. He needed reassurance just as much as Pen needed. He needed her to keep on telling she loved him and why, because it heals him.

Some people were upset he didn't make love to her that day he went to get a blanket, but i get it. He wants it, he wants her so badly, you can see it. Colin has problems communicating and doing what he wants because he feels pathetic, jealous and that makes him feel worse, makes him feel shame. It’s him, not her that was the issue at that point. His connection with her runs deeper, it's respecting her and himself, with all the conflicted feelings why he didn’t.

It’s a slow process and i’m bloody glad it took its time to be resolved. But he starts understanding that his way wont help them, it wont bring them closer. He wont solve things by controlling and being the hero. He can’t change the past, he can’t change who they are. He wont solve anything by repressing his love.

Pen words help him figuring out a lot, her spoken words directed to him and her written words that he reads again. She needs him. She tells him she needs him and his love, not grand actions. He can show love and be worthy by supporting her. He starts to understand and ACCEPT that Whistledown is Pen, and loving Pen will include that part of her personality. He grasps that it was always there and it never made a difference in how much she loved being around him and him her, how much attention she dedicated to him, how much her words, in her letters, were full of admiration for him, to her love to him, how much she is his special person. She needs him just as much he needs her, she needs his love, his charm, his intelligence, his humor, his integrity, she needs him because without him she doesn’t feel complete, she doesn’t feel happy. He’s a good man, a fine man that makes her happy, always have. And he realizes she inspires him, she always had, and that isn't a problem, that having her helping him is not a problem, because he helps her too in many ways. It’s only when he can accept himself as equal and entitled to her love as she is to his that they could truly be together and happy.

Colin had the right to feel hurt, had the right to have his insecurities, had the right to need time and had the right to need space, had the right to lash out, had the right to come to term with the changes and surprises life threw at him, specially as a sensitive person that he very much is, and i'm glad the show didn't rush that.

[iamnmbr3]

What's you take on the whole wand situation?

It never ceases to amaze me how well Draco's wand worked for Harry when he had trouble with Hermione's wand and they've known each other for years.

Not only did the wand work, he also defeated Voldemort with each I find so funny for some reason.

And we need to remember that his wand was made of unicorn hair, which makes it extremely loyal to its owner so how the heck did it work well enough to defeat one of the greatest wizards of all time?

J.K.R can claim that Harry disarmed Draco all she wants, I call bullshit. To me it feels they share a deep connection which is why it worked

I KNOW!! It is insane that JKR, Queen of the Anti-Drarry Squad, wrote this in canon. So fitting that she should be cursed to accidentally canonize queer ships she hates lol.

The bit about Hermione's wand is super interesting for several reasons. Harry never wins the wand from her, but because they are very close and compatible and because she loves Harry and wants the wand to work for him, it does. Not perfectly. But way better than the Blackthorn Wand, which he didn't win AND which came from a stranger who had no compatibility with him and felt no allegiance or emotional connection to him. So we see that the compatibility of the wand's owner with someone and, crucially, the emotional bond they have with you, also influences how their wand responds to you.

This has huge implications when it comes to Draco's wand. Draco's wand is made of unicorn hair, which, as you correctly point out is known for its loyalty and affinity for its original master. This is not a fickle wandcore that is easy to just win in a quick duel. Not only that, but hawthorn wands are particularly tricky to master.

Plus, if wands could switch allegiance too easily then it would've come up earlier. If just disarming someone is usually enough to do it then any class where such things are practiced would have huge repercussions. Not to mentions fights between enemies. It would be a huge problem for Death Eaters or Aurors. Snape would've lost mastery pf his wand to the Marauders pretty early on in his school career. (Harry also would've lost mastery of HIS wand to Snape in the end of book 6.) This would make wizards extremely cautious about dueling each other. Thus, the character and desires of the wizards and of the wands and the specific circumstances must play a much bigger role. Some wands must be more loyal than others too. For example I can imagine the Elder Wand being relatively fickle. Or the kind of wand that would choose Peter for example. But a unicorn hair wand?

Furthermore, Harry doesn't even really fight Draco. He pulls the wand right out of Draco's hand. And Draco...lets him. He has fast reflexes. He's a Seeker who is nearly equal to Harry in ability. And we see how quick he is at spells and how well he holds his own against Harry during their duel in book 6. Yes Harry - who is a deadly dueler - beats him in the end, but they go several rounds. Draco, in fact, holds his own against Harry for longer than anyone except for Snape. Much longer than Voldemort ever does for example. So if Draco had wanted to get off a spell to blast Harry away from him when Harry was totally unarmed and literally just trying to pull the wand out of his hand - he could have. But he doesn't. He lets Harry take the wand.

And the wand's loyalty transfers seamlessly to Harry. Not only does it work for him. It works PERFECTLY. It feels "friendly" in his hand. In a way even Hermione's didn't. He is deeply compatible with the wand and the wand obviously is actively friendly to him. This clearly reflects Harry's fundamental core compatibility with Draco (they're soulmates your honor!) and also Draco's true loyalty and affection towards Harry.

The Hawthorn Wand isn't betraying its former master. It's honoring his wishes by protecting the man he loves.

[geotjwrs]

Hey… what’s up! I have another Sabrina Carpenter x Male reader request for you, this time I have a plot too…

Plot: Do one were they go on a date and then they start kissing in his truck, and then they have sex when they get home.

under the moonlight (18+)

Pairings ; Sabrina Carpenter x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; smut

Y/N's heart raced as he pulled up to Sabrina's place in his truck. He had been looking forward to this date all week, and the anticipation had only grown stronger. Sabrina, with her piercing blue eyes and infectious smile, was the kind of girl that made every moment feel like an adventure.

As Sabrina slipped into the truck's passenger seat, Y/N couldn't help but steal a glance at her. She was wearing a flirty yellow dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, and her long, dark hair cascaded around her shoulders.

"Hey," Y/N said, mustering the courage to make eye contact. "You look stunning tonight."

Sabrina blushed, the pink hue spreading across her cheeks. "Thank you, Y/N. You look amazing yourself."

Y/N couldn't help but smile. He was wearing a dark, tailored suit that fit his muscular frame perfectly, and he had even splurged on a new tie to match the dress. They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Y/N pulled out of the driveway, and they began their evening together.

As they drove to their first destination, a trendy new restaurant, Y/N and Sabrina chatted about everything from their favorite movies to their dreams for the future. Y/N was surprised at how easily they connected, and he found himself more and more attracted to Sabrina with each passing moment.

After a delicious dinner and some laughs, they decided to head to a nearby bar for a few drinks. As they sipped their cocktails, Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at Sabrina whenever she wasn't looking. He was so enamored with her that he barely noticed the music playing in the background or the other patrons around them.

As the night wore on, Y/N and Sabrina found themselves growing closer. They talked about their past relationships, their fears, and their desires. Y/N found himself opening up to Sabrina in ways he had never done with anyone else before. And as the conversation grew more intimate, so did their body language.

By the time they left the bar, Y/N and Sabrina were practically inseparable. They held hands as they walked to the truck, and Y/N couldn't help but pull her in for a passionate kiss before they got in.

As they drove back to Sabrina's place, Y/N's thoughts were consumed with thoughts of her. He could feel the tension building between them, and he knew that they both wanted the same thing.

When they finally arrived at her house, Y/N and Sabrina wasted no time in making their way inside. They tore at each other's clothes, desperate to feel each other's skin against their own. As they stumbled into Sabrina's bedroom, Y/N felt a wave of desire wash over him.

He gently pushed Sabrina onto the bed, hovering over her as he began to kiss her neck. Sabrina moaned softly, her hands roaming over Y/N's broad shoulders and down his back.

"Oh, Y/N," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've wanted this for so long."

Y/N grinned, kissing his way down Sabrina's neck and over her collarbone. "I've wanted you too, Sabrina. I can't believe we're finally here."

As Y/N continued to explore Sabrina's body with his lips and tongue, he could feel her growing more and more aroused. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she arched her back as he teased her nipples with his fingers.

"Oh, yes," Sabrina gasped, her eyes half-closed in ecstasy. "Right there, Y/N. Don't stop."

Y/N grinned, his cock throbbing as he watched Sabrina writhe beneath him. He wanted to make her scream with pleasure, to show her just how much he desired her. And as he slid his fingers between her legs, he knew that he was about to do just that.

"You're so wet for me, Sabrina," Y/N growled, his voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."

Sabrina moaned, her hips bucking against Y/N's hand as he stroked her clit. She was so close to coming, and she knew that Y/N was the one who could take her there.

As Sabrina's moans grew louder, Y/N couldn't resist any longer. He undid his pants and positioned his cock at Sabrina's entrance, teasing her with the tip before finally sliding inside.

Sabrina gasped, her eyes wide with pleasure as Y/N filled her up. He began to thrust, his hips moving in time with the rhythm of her moans.

"Oh, Y/N," Sabrina panted, her hands gripping the sheets as she dug her nails into the bed. "Fuck me harder, please. I need more."

Y/N grinned, increasing his pace as he pounded into Sabrina. She was so tight, and he could feel her clenching around him as he pushed deeper.

"You like that, don't you, Sabrina?" Y/N growled, his voice thick with desire. "You love it when I fuck you like this."

Sabrina moaned, her eyes half-closed as she lost herself in the pleasure. She could feel her orgasm building, and she knew that it was only a matter of time before she came apart in Y/N's arms.

As the tension continued to build, Y/N reached down between Sabrina's legs, his fingers finding her clit once more. He began to stroke her, his touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through her body.

Sabrina gasped, her eyes rolling back in her head as she surrendered to the ecstasy. She could feel her orgasm building, and she knew that it was only a matter of time before she exploded.

"Oh, Y/N," Sabrina cried out, her body trembling as she came apart in his arms. "I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming!"

Y/N grinned, his cock throbbing inside Sabrina as he felt her clench around him. He could feel her juices flowing over him, and he knew that he was about to join her in the throes of pleasure.

As the last waves of Sabrina's orgasm washed over her, Y/N let out a low, guttural groan. He was right on the edge, and he knew that he couldn't hold back any longer.

"I'm coming, Sabrina," Y/N gasped, his hips jerking as he finally reached his peak. "Oh, fuck, I'm coming!"

Sabrina smiled, her eyes still half-closed as she watched Y/N lose himself in the pleasure. She could feel his cock throbbing inside her, and she knew that they had just shared something special.

As they lay there in each other's arms, breathless and spent, Y/N and Sabrina couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. They had connected on a deeper level tonight, and they knew that they had just shared something special.

[lauraneedstochill]

The object of my desires

summary: You overhear Aemond making a snarky remark about the way you dress. You decide to teach him a lesson. warnings: friends to lovers (both are idiots), a dash of angst, a lot of teasing, things get very heated (NSFW), with a sprinkle of softness. words: ~6500 (it was supposed to be shorter but they started making out...) author’s note: the idea first popped into my head months ago when I saw this post. also, for the longest time I’ve been thinking that “you are the bane of my existence” monologue is a perfect fit for Aemond — and yet I haven’t seen a single fic* using that quote?! so I finally decided to give it a try.

If anyone asked you to describe your relationship with Aemond, you would’ve said that the two of you were almost friendly. The almost part was the trickiest one to explain because, even though both of you acted very content with the way of things, you still couldn’t help but think that you wanted something more, no matter how much you’ve tried to deny it.

You got to know him through Helaena who you befriended when you were ten and six. A year older than you, she was the weird girl no one wanted to talk to and you approached her out of curiosity but soon learned that she had a cheerful nature and quite a nimble mind. She loved your sharp sense of humor and energetic wit and the two of you became close, your contrasting personalities complimenting each other very well.

Your introduction to her brothers was brief and for a couple of months, you didn’t interact with either of them. She’s been married to Aegon for four years back then and even though he immediately didn’t strike you as a faithful husband — always a cup away from being wasted and shamelessly gazing at every maid’s legs — he mostly looked harmless. Aemond, however, was the exact opposite — guarded and collected, he kept his distance from everyone, making it clear that it was his choice. You could only get a good look at the prince when you were passing the training yard, and a couple of times you found your gaze lingering on him — on the lean body and tense muscles, on the way he moved the sword with ease. In those moments you felt the danger radiating off him, yet it never scared you away. But you knew better than to fawn over the prince who seemingly paid you no mind.

A significant change came on the evening of Aegon’s ten and ninth birthday which Helaena begged you to come to — you weren’t fond of big events but couldn’t say no to her. For the most part, the feast was tolerable as you’ve spent it by her side, making glib remarks about the guests, much to your friend’s amusement. But when the celebration died down and all the nobles began to disperse, Aegon, drunk out of his mind, decided to make advances toward his wife whom he ignored for the duration of the evening. His approach was harsh and unexpected, and the look on Helaena’s face shuttered your heart. 

“Your grace, your manners escape you,” you tried warning him, shielding your friend but Aegon was too wasted to notice your fiery gaze. In his inebriated state, he probably mistook you for a maid as he grabbed your arm in an effort to shove you aside. Next thing you know, your fist connected with his nose — and then Aegon was lying on the floor, eyes wide and blood gushing down his face as you stood next to him, fuming. Before he could think of an answer, Aemond appeared out of nowhere — just in time to drag his brother away, while the drunkard was hurling insults at you in a frenzy. Only when they left, it dawned on you what you just did. 

You expected for the king’s guard to come for your head in the morrow, but instead, a few surprising things happened. First, you learned that the boys didn’t rat you out, making it look like they were the ones who got into a fight. Aegon did apologize to Helaena and from that day, his temper softened as he never dared to repeat his mistake. But, most importantly, Aemond took a sudden interest in you.

Overall, his behavior stayed the same, but you regularly caught him looking in your direction, and every time you saw each other, he made sure to acknowledge your presence. He never initiated the conversation first, only sometimes curtly voicing his opinion, yet you noticed him paying attention to your chattering with Helaena — and you could swear that a few times he suppressed a laugh at your jokes.

The mystery veil that the prince was surrounded with sparked your curiosity, and you wanted to crack down his guard, to get a chance to know him. The opportunity presented itself one day when Helaena and you came to watch Aemond train. You saw him and Criston arguing as the prince was late to his studies but Cole refused to let Aemond leave until he wins the last bout. Whether he wasn’t in the right mood or had something distracting him, Aemond kept losing, and his teacher only pushed him further, relentless in his attempts.

“Ser Criston, you’re putting yourself in harm’s way,” you chimed in, making the man turn to you with a chuckle, while Aemond gave you a tired look.

“May it be that the finest swordsman of the realm is simply avoiding his responsibilities?” you suggested with a light grin.

“Mayhaps he is in need of some encouragement,” Cole teased. 

“Well, I would’ve volunteered to share the burden of learning with him,” you remark. “If only he could win this one bout,” you added, keeping eye contact with the prince.

It took Aemond about two minutes to knock his opponent to the ground which made Helaena gasp in surprise while you were trying to hide a smile. Without a word, Aemond came to you, and the two of you went to the library. On your way there, he kept silent, but you were not intimidated at all. When you walked into the room, Aemond hesitated as if giving you a chance to change your mind. But you boldly turned to him:

“If you mean to scare me with the prospect of studying, I should warn you that I’ve read more books than you can count,” you informed the prince.

It was the first time when you saw him smiling — widely and shamelessly, looking very smug.

“You are full of surprises, my lady,” he grinned. “Do you mean to challenge me?”

It turned out that Aemond liked challenges, and you enjoyed being one. Since that day, you got into the habit of joining him in the library and the prince would accompany you in his free time more often than not. You would dare him to read faster, to fight harder, to engage in conversations — or sometimes to simply have fun. Whenever you had a reason to disagree with him, he was always respectful and found himself entertained by your way of thinking, which made your discussions and even arguments span for hours.

As years went by, you kept playfully bantering back and forth, and Helaena told you that you were the only one allowed to act like that around her brother. You couldn’t understand what his motives were but it was hard to deny that his company was pleasant. Aemond grew up into quite an eligible bachelor and his attention did flatter you, even though he never crossed the line. Sometimes you even dared to entertain the thought that maybe — just maybe — Aemond had a soft spot for you.

Until one day things took a turn. Helaena’s twentieth birthday was meant to be just another celebration that you would’ve skipped if it wasn’t for her. The only way for you to pass the time was dancing which you’ve actually come to love in recent years, enjoying the rhythm of the music that helped to lighten your mood. Your dear friend mostly preferred to sit back so you were often compelled to find yourself a company that would be bearable, at the very least. That evening, you got acquainted with Jacaerys Velaryon, the boy being younger than you but almost a foot taller. He approached you with a small smile on the pretext of knowing Helaena, and you soon learned that he was a good dancer. But the best thing about Jace was that he spend most of his time talking about his betrothed, Baela, who he was absolutely smitten with. The girl sadly couldn’t be present as she had to stay with her dad, who recently sailed home, and the dark-haired boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. All the time while dancing he was either gushing about her or asking your advice, which you found adorable and gladly chatted with him.

Throughout the feast, you felt Aemond looking at you, probably more than usual. You knew that he wasn’t fond of dancing and even though his gaze on you felt rather good, deep down you wished that he was the one you were spending time with. After a couple of hours, however, you saw his usual spot empty, and the prince was nowhere to be found. For some reason, you got a very bad feeling and, after leaving Jace to take a break, you went to Helaena. She informed you that Aemond left not so long ago, adding that it looked like her brother was upset about something.

That’s how you ended up roaming through the castle halls, giving in to the unsettling feeling churning in your stomach. Passing by one of the chambers, you suddenly hear voices and realize that it's Aemond talking to his brother. You don’t mean to eavesdrop and were about to turn around — but then Aegon mentions your name.

“You are foolish to wait for so long. You could’ve at least asked Y/N for a dance,” his remark is followed by gulping sounds. Is he ever without a cup? You hold back a giggle — which quickly disappears when you hear Aemond’s answer.

“I prefer not to waste my time on such futile activities,” and his voice is unexpectedly grim.

“You may want to reconsider when the lady has every man’s attention. Even the Strong boy was pretty much drooling,” he chuckles, and his words make your brows furrow as you are certain he has no ground to suggest that. You’re a moment away from drowning in doubts, but the younger prince brings you back to reality.

“I suppose it’s hard not to, with the way she’s been dressing lately,” Aemond deadpans.

He says it with a flat tone — yet it feels like a punch that knocks all of the air out of your lungs. There’s a brief pause — and Aegon sounds almost sober when he asks, with a hint of surprise in his voice.

“And what about her dresses?”

“I found them to be... rather bawdy. Although I’m not impressed in the slightest,” Aemond forces out.

Your heart sinks at his words, cheeks heating up. You wait for him to say anything else, to give an explanation, at least one reason for his accusations but there is none. Aegon laughs — and you feel sick to your stomach, realizing that you cannot bear listening to their conversation any longer.

You walk away as quietly as possible, with cotton feet and your hands shaking. You rush past the hall and out of the castle, tears pricking in your eyes. Only once you are all alone, embraced by the silence of the night, you take a deep breath of air. Aemond’s words are ringing in your ears, loud and clear. You look down at your dress in disbelief: the neckline is basically non-existent, your arms are fully covered, and it barely shows any skin at all. And yet he thinks this is inappropriate? 

Your cheeks are wet and burning yet you feel anger bubbling in your chest. You never thought Aemond could be cruel — and yet it’s him, out of all people, who let those vile words slip out of his mouth like they meant nothing. Like you meant nothing to him. For years, you heard people calling him cold-hearted and arrogant but you were naive to believe that the prince made an exception for you. Out of all the mistakes you’ve made so far, this one might’ve been the most painful one.

Your outrage spreads like a wildfire as you think back to every interaction you’ve had with Aemond, his every glance and every word that fooled you into thinking that he cared. Was he secretly criticizing you the whole time? How many other jokes did he make behind your back? Who even gave him the right to judge whether your dresses are acceptable or not? As if he is any different from all the other men whose brains turn into mush when they get a glimpse of a female body.

You stop dead in your tracks when an idea suddenly forms in your head. It’s very uncharacteristic of you — at first, you hesitantly brush it off, thinking that it’s not wise to make any emotional decisions. And yet the idea keeps nagging at you for the remainder of the night and for a few hours you ponder if you should take such a brazen approach. But then his unkind remark pops back in your memory — over and over and over.

By the time the morning comes, you make up your mind.

He says he isn’t impressed in the slightest? There is only one way to find out for sure. On the very next day, you take Helaena for a walk in the garden, well aware that her brothers will accompany you as Aegon doesn’t have anything else to do and Aemond prefers to take a stroll after his training. Your dress is close-fitted yet modest, not an inch shorter than necessary. It is not about the dress but what’s underneath it — and the object in question clinks lightly with your every step. You show it to Helaena right away and she finds it delightful, the jingling only making her smile. Then her siblings come to join you, you curtsy but barely spare Aemond a glance. You don’t ask a single question about his day, instead taking interest in Aegon. The older prince gives you a suspicious side-eye but welcomes the chatting. It doesn’t take long before he notices the sound, too.

“Am I the only one who can hear the clinking? I am almost certain that it’s not just in my head,” he debates.

“Oh, it’s Y/N’s doing,” Helaena beams unsuspectingly.

“Apologies, my prince, it’s my aunt’s gift that caught your ear,” you slow down and take a few seconds to make sure you’ve got everyone’s attention.

And then, with one gentle motion, you pull up your dress — ever so slightly, just enough to show your ankle and the thin bracelet wrapped around it. The jewelry is made out of gold and it instantly catches the sunlight, casting warm sparkles on your skin. It’s decorated with tiny coins which make a jingling sound as you slowly turn your leg from side to side.

“I thought it was rather pretty. Don’t you think?” you only look at Aegon.

“Umm yes,” he gulps. “Rather pretty it is,” the prince mumbles, and then his gaze shifts to someone else. You don’t need to turn your head to know who he’s looking at. Instead, you continue with your walk without a care in the world.

“I should ask my aunt to bring you a similar one, my dear,” you suggest to Helaena and she eagerly agrees.

You have a few other gifts for Aemond, too. Next time you opt for a different bracelet — with no coins and no jingling, a simple golden chain. But your dress is a tad bit shorter and the jewelry catches everyone’s eye with ease as it looks like a ray of light curled around your ankle. You deliberately walk through the training yard, arm-in-arm with Helaena. You give Ser Christon the brightest smile, and he politely nods in your direction.

“Good morrow, ladies.”

“How’s your training coming along, Ser Criston?” you ask, and it feels strange to talk to him instead of Aemond. You bitterly remind yourself that you apparently overstated the value of those conversations.

“I’m afraid, we are hardly progressing. Mayhaps you will keep us company? I fear, we are in need of some cheerful words,” Cole shoots a glance at the prince who stands by, his eye fixed on you.

“Aren’t we all, Ser Criston,” you tilt your head at him. “But it seems like my pursuit of lessening your burden did nothing good,” and before he can ask anything else, you walk away, ignoring Aemond completely.

Helaena senses that something is off, giving you a worried look.

“Is there anything troubling you?”

“Not when I’m with you, my friend,” you reassure her and force your smile to look as believable as possible.

Partially, it is true as her company always brings you joy and you don’t want to sour her mood by recalling Aemond’s words that wounded your pride. You refuse to admit that he also grazed your heart. In a week, you accept Helaena’s invitation to join them for breakfast and you decide to up your game. It’s the perfect time of year for sleeveless dresses but the one you pick also has a daring addition: two thin cuts under your armpits. They are barely visible but when you put your arms up, it’s easy to distinguish the contour of your ribcage and the softness of your skin peeking through. You sit by Helaena’s side, easily keeping up with the conversation and not glancing at Aemond once. After the food is taken away and everyone starts wandering around the room, you get up to fix your hair, standing not too far away from the dining table as you raise your hands and run your fingers into your hairdo.

“May I offer assistance?” Aegon leans on the wall next to you, his mouth curling into a smile.

You roll your eyes and are about to shush him when he quietly adds:

“I know what you are doing,” you turn your gaze to him, and he winks at you. “From the look on my brother’s face, I can tell you that it’s working.”

You fight the urge to look at Aemond.

“I’m afraid I can’t share your concerns,” you are fiddling with hairpins absentmindedly.

Aegon shoots a glance over your shoulder and then back at you.

“He seems pretty bothered to me. Also pissed, but that may be my doing.”

“Look at you, my little helper,” you ramble as the cool air sneaks into the cuts of your dress, and you slightly quaver.

“Well, if you are ever in need of a helping hand...”

“I will not hesitate to stick this pin into your eye,” you cut him off.

“No need!” Aegon throws up his hands, cackling. “I’d like to keep them both. So I can have a better look at my brother’s reaction when you do... whatever you plan on doing,” the shit-eating grin on his face tells you that he is enjoying this.

But when you turn around and suddenly make eye contact with Aemond, your own enjoyment fades. You notice his frown and the probability of you being the reason for it doesn’t bring any satisfaction. You let Helaena lead you away, feeling his gaze on your back as you walk out. You do not yield to your emotions, continuing with your plan, as days turn into weeks, and then a month goes by without you as much as sharing a word with Aemond. Truth be told, you want nothing more than to stay away from him at all costs but you will not give him the satisfaction. He said he didn’t like the way you dress — and you make sure he sees every single dress you are in. You stay within the bounds of decency as you definitely have no intention to disgrace yourself, and none of your dresses are borderline scandalous, contrary to what any prince may think. You deign to let him see the curve of your neck with your hair up high, the bending of your shoulders and the sunkissed skin of your arms, the arc of your knees and mere glimpses of the upper part of your legs. You leave the rest to his imagination — granted, he has a good one considering how much time he spends reading.

During the second month, his patience starts running out.

In the years you’ve known Helaena, you learned all the ins and outs of the castle, so you manage to avoid Aemond at first, vanishing from his sight when needed. But, as time passes, you notice that he is tempted to talk to you, and escaping that possibility becomes harder with each day. One morning, when you walk into the yard, Aemond abruptly stops his training upon seeing you, and the two of you just stare at each other for a second, both startled and holding your breath. You are saved by Ser Criston, who calls for the prince, distracting him, giving you a chance to leave, and you all but run away.

After that day, you temporarily cease your visits to the castle, deciding to take a break and make up weak excuses to Helaena. Only now that you were apart, you realize how much you miss Aemond’s physical presence. His sudden, fleeting touches — to help you out of a carriage or to steady you after a fit of laughter, your hands brushing when you share books, his fingers sometimes lightly grazing your waist for the reason you are yet to know. You haven't talked to him for days, let alone felt him in your close proximity, and yet he's constantly on your mind. Somewhere in the midst of it all, you wake up at night realizing you yearn for him terribly. You wish you could go back to that damn evening of the feast, to confront him right away, to maybe get some clarification. But now too much time has passed and you’re too wrapped up in... whatever you plan on doing, so your ego insists that giving up isn’t an option.

When you receive the invitation for Aegon’s name day, you are ready to decline, but then begrudgingly decide to give it one last chance. You practice the look of indifference, the nonchalant tone, the proud gait, and you pull out your best dress. It’s green and the color is so bright, it dazzles the eyes, the material light and flowing — and yet, when you put it on, it feels incomplete. As you look in the mirror, the vivid tone of the fabric suddenly reminds you of something else. It’s a secret you once heard, a hushed conversation between the maids, one of which walked in on the prince when he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You only ponder for a minute and then reach for the jewelry piece that definitely will be hard not to notice. The castle is crowded, and you are one of the last guests to arrive. Bracing yourself, you pause at the door for a second. Ser Harrold, who stands there, lets out a surprised hum. “Should I take that as a sign of your disapproval?” you jest, watching his reaction.

“I wouldn’t dare to judge,'” he gives you a polite smile. “But I’m afraid all the men present are at risk of losing reason.”

His comment makes you chuckle and you step a bit closer, letting him take a better look.

“I thought it would match the occasion. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Ser Harrold, gods bless him, keeps his eyes on your face. “As always, it is, lady Y/N.”

It gives you enough confidence to walk in, appearing in all your glory.

The dress is a perfect fit, with a slit down your right side and an open back. The front neckline isn't deep but in the middle of it there’s a thin silver chain with a big, glittering sapphire — and the gem lays perfectly between your breasts. It’s only natural that everyone’s gaze is immediately drawn to the blue spark, all the men in the room gazing at it, voluntarily and not. But the effect their attention has is nothing compared to the wave of heat that warms your body when you feel a very particular gaze finally landing on you. You look right at him — and you catch him gawking, his lips slightly parted as he stares at the sapphire, too, almost in a trance. His hand is gripping a cup of wine with such force, you can see the whitening of his knuckles. When Aemond sharply glances up, your eyes lock for a second, and you look away first. So much for him not being impressed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jace waving at you to come sit with him, and you do not hesitate, letting the one-eyed prince out of sight.

You feel like his eye doesn’t leave you for a second.

You are barely able to sit still while dining and let out a sigh of relief when it’s time for dancing. You rush away from the table, thinking it will provide you with a distraction, and you will be glad for any partner if only he can move his legs and keep his mouth shut. You go to the end of the line, lost in your thoughts, and when you finally come to a stop and look to the other side — you see Aemond standing in front of you.

The tall prince with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing all black, stares at you in a way that makes the crowd around you disappear.

When the dance starts, you step toward each other, and he speaks up first. 

“I couldn’t help but notice your absence. I find myself wondering what is the reason behind it,” his hand briefly touches yours, your bodies following the music.

“Your question is confusing, my prince. As I was merely doing you a favor,” you swap partners but Aemond only looks at you.

“Your leaving hardly favors me,” the prince says when you’re in his arms again. You feel a flicker of anger rising inside but keep your voice down.

“I was actually counting on you being relieved,” you snort, not looking at him. “Since, as it turned out, you were so displeased with my bawdy dresses,” with these words, you step away from him once more.

A minute later you come back to his side but don’t let him say a thing. 

“I’ve always thought bawdy was just another word for a whore. So I suppose I should be glad that you at least had some decency to not stoop so low,” when your eyes meet, you think you’ve never seen him so hurt.

Before he can come up with an answer, you are out of his reach. Then you circle back to Aemond again, and this time your tone comes out hasher.

“I also wonder if you would be so brave to say all that to my face. But it seems that your bravery falters when confronted with the need to speak plainly.”

The rhythm of the music works in your favor, because whenever Aemond tries opening his mouth, you’re swooped away from him, and it gives you time to tighten your self-control. You think you should resent him for his silly words, for his heavy gaze, for him knowing how to dance even though he never once did that with you in all these years.

But you have no resentment for him. All of a sudden you realize what you are actually feeling.

And then the dance comes to an end.

You only curtsy out of politeness, averting your gaze.

“I will not vex you anymore, my prince.”

“Wait, I should —,” he tries to take your hand but you swerve away from him.

“I already promised the next dance to someone else,” you lie. “You are finally free of my company.”

At that very second, when you glance at him before leaving, he looks absolutely heartbroken. Or maybe you just imagined it in an attempt to ease your own pain. Your feet carry you to the library on their own accord, and you’re too distraught to notice until you are already inside, in the dusty silence of the endless shelves. You take a hold of the nearest one, trying to catch your breath. You barely get a minute of solitude before you hear footsteps approaching. And it’s kind of pathetic how easy it is for you to guess who it is. “Your tendency to run away from me is quite unnerving,” Aemond walks in with rapid strides, his voice laced with emotion you can’t read. 

His words, however, trigger your reaction in no time. 

“Maybe it is because I do not want to be in the company of someone who hurt me,” you turn to him, and he’s already only a couple of feet away. The dim lighting illuminates his silver hair, the outline of his broad shoulders, his eye is boring into you. He looks so beautiful in his frustration, your chest tightens at the sight.

“I would’ve apologized right away if only you let me speak,” the prince retorts.

“Did something hold you back from apologizing sooner? Or were you too preoccupied with being outraged by my clothing choices?” your heart skips a bit at the intensity of his stare but you refuse to break the eye contact.

“I never said I was outraged.” 

“You weren’t thrilled, either, you made that very clear.”

“You know nothing of my motives because you refuse to listen to me!” he raises his voice and it startles you. But he doesn’t sound angry.

Aemond is standing at arm’s length — and you can clearly see that his face expresses no signs of annoyance or hatred. Instead, he looks at you with longing.

The air in the room feels heavy.

You run your tongue over your lips to moisten them, and Aemond’s eye darts to your mouth.

“We can agree on one thing,” he drawls, his eye locking with yours again as he moves closer. You take a step back — and feel pressed against one of the shelves.

He speaks with his tone low:

“...You vex me to no end.”

With another step, Aemond towers over you, and when you look up, your faces are only inches apart, and his flaming gaze envelops you.

“You are the bane of my existence,” Aemond breathes out. “And the object of all my desires,” his voice breaks, and you feel him inhaling sharply.

His words are akin to a match that lights up a fire deep in you, the muscles of your stomach tightening involuntarily. With one finger he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you can’t help but lean into his touch, your breathing shuddering.

“I’m haunted by your image everywhere I go,” he rasps, his nose brushing yours. “Night and day, I dream of you,” his index finger moves under your chin, close to the pulsating point on your neck. You feel the heat spilling into the pit of your belly, and you want nothing more than for Aemond to kiss you.

“I was raised to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread every minute I spend in your presence,” he whispers vehemently, his words hot against your mouth. 

You are dizzy, breathless — and craving him. Everything else is forgotten, erased, nonexistent. It’s just you two.

“You are all I can think about,” you confess with a strangled voice, looking at Aemond through your lashes — and it sets him off.

His lips capture yours in an instant, claiming and burning with need. He pulls you closer, his hands on your back, and yours go up his shoulders to lock behind his neck. Aemond kisses you deeply, hungrily, sweeping his tongue over your lower lip and then sliding it in, intertwining with yours. One of his palms moves lower, outlining the curve of your hip, glides over your leg — and into the slit of your dress. He grabs your thigh, his thumb landing on the inner side of it, and he starts slowly massaging small circles on it. Him touching your bare skin elicits a moan from you and in the heat of the moment, as your mind goes blank and you can only focus on the pleasuring sensation, you spread your legs, and his finger slips higher — to the place where you want him the most.

He breaks the kiss in surprise, and you wait for it to dawn on him. To realize that you are, in fact, completely naked under the dress. You can feel arousal pooling between your legs, your body prickling with anticipation.

“I was under the impression that you owe me an apology,” you unabashedly murmur, looking him straight in the eye. 

You don’t know if it’s a challenge or a plea — at this point, you do not care. Apparently, neither does Aemond, as he takes no time hoisting your leg up to his waist for better access, firmly holding it in place. Your respite barely lasts a few seconds before you feel his other hand cupping your sex, rubbing his fingers through your folds. You shut your eyes, gasping for air, as he unhurriedly smears your wetness — and then his finger dips into your core, the sensation making you shiver.

“Aemond,” you sign, your body trembling with desire.

Trying to inhale, you get a whiff of aroma, a mix of leather and salty ocean breeze — and all at once, you are surrounded by him. His scent, his warmth, his scorching touches, the taste that’s left on your lips. He leaks into your every cell.

Aemond nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses there, his finger picking up the pace.

“I’ve missed you,” he avows. “So fucking much,” he lightly nibbles the skin above your collarbone. “Missed hearing you say my name. Say it again.”

He doesn’t need to ask twice — and the interweaving of letters rolls off your tongue with each breath:

“Aemond”

“Aemond”

“Aemond.”

His name fills your mouth, leaving no space for air, your throat tight and breathing rapid. Aemond’s lips move down to your shoulder.

“Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he haltingly rambles, and the implication makes you clench around him, dragging a low groan from the prince.

He leaves a trail of kisses following the silver chain down to your breasts. The gem feels cold in contrast to your skin, and even though your head is clouded with lust, it triggers a memory. You move one of your shaking hands to his face, guiding it up to look at you again.

“I want to see the real thing,” you whisper, gazing at his eyepatch. “Let me. Please, let me.”

His hand between your legs doesn’t stop its movement but the one on your thigh trembles. You are too caught up in the moment to think straight, and before he can answer, your fingers roughly remove the leather patch.

The sapphire glows like a beacon, the cold blue of it is dazzling and piercing through your blurred vision. The tones and shadows are interlacing, cyan melting into azure and dark blue, and it’s mesmerizing. Seeing him like this, stripped of his restrain and his disguise, is the most intimate, precious thing in the world.

“Gods, you are divine,” you moan, panting.

You catch a flash of emotion in his eye — before you can take another breath, his lips are on yours again. This kiss is steady and fervent, and while his mouth melts into yours, Aemond adds a second finger. It slides in with ease, and he builds up the speed that makes you swallow air. He’s terrifyingly good with his fingers, with his every move, precise and fast. 

“Aemond,” you whimper in his mouth, but his lips keep chasing yours, and you can only follow, letting him take your breath away again and again. You lose track of time, lose yourself in his arms. His face is always close to yours, he breathes in every moan you make and keeps his gaze on you, watching you squirm, your cheeks flushed and lips quivering.

You helplessly whisper his name, and it comes out as a prayer, the coil in your stomach ready to snap. Aemond gives you a breathless smile.

“You do not need to beg me, ever,” he says in a husky voice. “I will give you anything you want,” with these words, he presses a thumb on your pearl, resuming the well-known circling motion, making you choke on air.

It takes merely a few seconds for you to come undone, the wave of pleasure blinding and crushing over you. His lips are at the corner of your mouth, ready to cover it should you make any loud sound, but you drop your head back, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.

His fingers slow the pace until you let out a quiet whine, and he removes them, carefully lowering your leg. You feel fuzzy-headed, trying to catch your breath, a few beads of sweat rolling along your hairline. One of his hands gently falls on your back, rubbing soothing patterns on your skin.

“I truly am sorry,” Aemond admits.

You chuckle lightly. “I think you already made it up to me.”

Despite the hint of humor, there’s an anxious feeling stirring in your abdomen, and you are afraid to open your eyes to meet his. You don’t know what’s to come and you dread the emptiness that will follow if he leaves.

Aemond tenderly cups your face with his hand:

“Mayhaps my intentions were not clear enough. I do plan to properly court you,” your eyes snap open at his words.

There’s a brief pause before he adds. “But I still need to apologize for my behavior because you deserved none of it. I was unfair with my judgment as I let jealousy get the best of me,” he sounds genuinely remorseful.

You glance at him in confusion, the gears turning in your head for a moment, and then you realize.

"You were jealous of Jace?!"

Aemond looks down at the floor, and there’s something endearing in his evident embarrassment. With your thumb and index finger you caress the jut of his jaw and make him look at you again.

“Aemond, I can barely consider him a friend. And the boy can only think about Baela, he speaks of her as if she is the light of his life.”

“I know that feeling," Aemond doesn’t hide his smile anymore when he’s with you. He brings your hand to his lips, and the sincerity of his words tugs at your heart. He leaves kisses on your knuckles, and you’re overwhelmed with happiness spreading in your chest.

“Do you get that feeling every time we argue? Or when I challenge you?” you inquire with a giggle.

His laugh vibrates against your skin. When Aemond meets your gaze, there are no doubts and reservations left, no room for denial.

“My biggest challenge was not to fall in love with you. I failed miserably,” he puts both of his hands on your waist, drawing you closer. “But I will humble myself before you because I cannot stand the thought of us being apart ever again,” Aemond presses his forehead against yours.

“I don’t plan on it,” you trace his scar with your finger, giving him goosebumps. “But you do know there still will be days when we vex each other to no end?” your voice is barely audible.

He moves his mouth to yours and, before bringing your lips together, he whispers:

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And neither would you.

the author doesn’t know how to shut up: — the dress is from “Atonement” (although I imagined her neckline a bit differently); — I haven’t written smut in a very long time so... I hope it was okay? any thoughts and comments will be very appreciated because I’m nervous about this 🥺 (not gonna lie, this was kinda self-indulgent so I hope that at least some of you will enjoy it, too!)

* I know there is an amazing fic called “bane of my existence, object of my desire” by @ jasonsmirrorball — I love it to pieces and highly recommend it! 💕 💚 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

[babygirlbites]

Okay thank you and I won't! Now... Imagine being Leah's Imprint and feeling that draw before she changed, leading you to be her very best friend rather than a lover for when she was with Sam... And perhaps to you legitimately threatening Sam once he broke her heart.

It could be kinda funny if that is the one thing non of the Pack knows - that you legitimately scared Sam when he had just imprinted on Emily? Bonus points if he has to act like nothing happened around you because you are always with Leah now, and aren't shy about that fact.

(I know this is weird, I just want to kinda punch him in the face or scare him.)

Best Friends to Lovers Pipeline Headcannon (Leah Clearwater)

Normally not a BF2L kind of girl but this ask was just too good to miss

• the boys on the Rez used to pull your hair when you were a kid and call you names, typical childish tourment we all go through

• that is until the day another girl lands a surprisingly strong punch to a juvenile Paul Lahotes face to defend your honour

• Ever since that day you and Leah had been by each others side, inseparable

• sue would often joke that you were the second daughter she never had - and for a long while it did feel that way

• you shared everything; toys, secrets, clothes

• as the two of you grew up, your friendship often dwindled and reconciled

• you had different classes, made new friendships seperate too eachother

• as the dreaded teens and hormones hit the two of you would sometimes argue, both storming home to your respective mothers and crying to them

• but these arguments never lasted; being away from Leah felt as abnormal to you as trying to swim against a current

• Sue would ring your mom and they would laugh at how silly you both could be; their life experience meaning they could see things the two of you could not

• your parents never fretted or worried, they knew you two were never far from making up and returning to being thick as theives

• unlike the other girls in class, you two weren’t boy crazy, neither you or Leah had any interest in sharing your prescious time with boyfriends

• and why would you? You both had everything the other needed

• this all changed of course when Leah caught Sam’s eye

• She hurried home one day, forcing her younger brother from the family landline to ring you, to tell you all about her new obsession

• and you didn’t get it; the twist in your gut or the sick feeling in the bottom of your stomach at your friends new happiness

• you didn’t quite understand yet why you had such an issue with the boy; he had done nothing wrong to you

• you saw them together multiple times but still something was just so wrong with it all too you; everything was about Sam now

•”me and Sam did this…” , “did you know Sam…”, “Sam says he thinks…”, “me and Sam are going to …”

• at first you thought it was just a fear of being replaced; sure, Leah was spending less time with you now that she had a boyfriend, but she still made a furious effort to see you and was dedicated to keeping up your weekly sleepovers

• this confusion was cleared the first time you saw them kiss

•it was like being punched in the gut, a feeling of jealously so intense you had nothing to compare it too

• and it terrified you

• you pulled away from Leah, sleepovers turning to bi weekly, then monthly and then none at all

• you started going out with your other friends, taking your fake id to the closest town and partying with them

• for maybe the first time in your life you were being a “normal” teenager, acting out and mixing with boys

• you kissed boys, girls - anyone who would distract you from your best friend

• trying to be a promiscuous party girl felt like trying to fit a circle into a square shaped hole, but it at least gave you something else to use your time on instead of pining for your lost connection with Leah

• that was until you woke up to rocks at your window, Leah at your door, with tear stained cheeks and red rimmed eyes

• she told you how Sam had left her, the ins and outs and the gory details, every new tear down her cheek made you wince

• “I don’t even know why I came here, I just had to see you” she admits, and you want to get on your knees and beg for her forgiveness, to take back every second you spent pulling away from her

• instead you pull her into your arms and hold her there while she sobs

• days later you turn up to Sam’s house, unsure as to why you’re there or what you plan on doing, but as soon as you see his face behind the door screen your words just tumble out

• you lay it all on him; how vile you think he is, how wrong he is for leaving Leah for her own cousin

• he just takes it, staring down at you with wide eyes

• when he finally speaks you expect him to give some kind of pathetic apology, but instead he tries to tell you he didn’t have any control over his situation

• you’ve struck him before either of you even realise what you’ve done

• admittadly it’s a fairly shabby throw, but your nails catch his skin and break it

• you turn on your heels and storm away before Sam can even gather his thoughts enough to realise he’s just been slapped

• it’s a bitter sweet senario; Leah is more broken than you’ve ever seen her, but in some form you have your best friend back

• you never explain yourself for why you put the distance in place, and if Leah wonders she never bothers to ask

• Sue starts seeing you again, the sleep overs restart

• a strange sense of equilibrium sets in

• that is, of course until Harry dies

• and then she’s just gone

• you don’t even see Leah at the funeral; you hold Sue extra tight that day, hugging her for herself and her daughter

• and oh god do you miss her

• but every text you send is left unanswered, every time you visit the house there’s a new excuse for why you can’t see her

• it’s a month and three days before you see her again, and yes, you had counted

• it’s your turn to storm up too her;demanding an explanation right there in the fresh fruit aisle of the supermarket

• you have no clue what you expected her to say or do; but she just stares at you, openly gawking

• ironic really; you haven’t changed at all since the last time she saw you and she had grown about a foot and toned up massively - you can’t help but subconsciously search for steroids in her basket

• you find out much later that this was the moment Leah imprinted on you, right there and then as you sounded off about how lonely you had been and how much of a bitch she was for leaving you like that

• the dynamic shifted again between the two of you; it was like she couldn’t quite stay away now

• everywhere you went Leah was nearby, never really there but just hovering in the vacinity

• a walk on the beach? Leah’s in her car is at the car park

• youre out with friends? Leah is on the other side of the bar trying to not get caught watching you

• in the end she turns up to your house again, stones at the window and all

• it’s different this time, you’ve always been able to tell if Leah is nervous - you know the twitch and the lack of eye contact, traits she has carried from a very young age

• she shows you what she is and she’s scared

• she knows this is a huge thing, but she can’t stay away from you anymore

• and now YOURE scared, your best friend is a massive wolf and you’re just supposed to be cool with that?

• you run, still in your slippers from the house, and lock the door behind you

• you know the could catch up if she wanted too but Leah has always loved you too much to do that to you

• she knows you need time, and although she’s scared to death that you’ll never come back, she has to let you go

• and you do come back

• this time you’re at her window

• she’s rough, bags under her eyes and her hair is lank like it been washed since she last saw you

• (it hasn’t, she’s been so physically unwell by being rejected by you that she couldn’t eat, sleep or take care of herself)

• Seth had tried to get his mom to call the doctor but Sue just pushed him off; she knew her daughter and the truth behind her intense need for your company

• she knew the imprint bond, even if Leah hadn’t told her in so many words

• and most importantly, she knew you

• Sue had always known that no matter what, you and her daughter were fated to come back together every time you fell apart

• and as always, she was right

• Leah explained the imprint too you, selling it as a friendship bond as to not scare you too much

• you weren’t stupid, you knew the tribes tales, told around bonfires since you were young

• but you let her have you in her life how she needed you, you’d be there for her in whatever form she needed you

• you and Leah definitely have “ you fell first but she fell harder” vibe

• falling in love romantically is inevitable for both of you, but it does give Sue some giggles to watch you both fight it at every turn

• Sue has always had a soft spot for you, knowing you were destined to be part of her family somehow

• Harry used to bet that you would fall for Seth and always be around that way, but she was all too happy to admit that he was wrong

• you brought her daughter back to her, Leah could truly be herself in your company

• when you are around the pack there’s the added level of awkwardness by being around both Emily and therefore Sam

• your history is unspoken, not even Leah knows what happened that night you turned up on his doorstep

• the rest of the pack are left to theorise why Sam seems so uncomfortable when you’re in a room with just him, why he jumps slightly everytime you move too fast

• they find it hilarious, it is hilarious - someone as small as you in comparison to the literal leader of the pack

• Leah tries to ask you about it numerous times but you just bat her off and say you don’t know what she’s talking about

• and she lets it go, because she doesn’t feel any sort of way towards Sam anymore, her heart healed by you

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

"It was so nice meeting you, James"

"I say the same thing, Mrs. Evans. Thank you for inviting me"

"It was a pleasure and please just call me Violet"

"Violet... Right, you look too young for a Mrs. Anyway"

Only James Potter could make Lily's mum laugh and blush like that. He was truly an idiot. But this time it was in a good way.

Lily hadn't stopped smiling all night. It was a nice evening, Petunia had married the love of her life (according to her), and Lily had a good time with James. James...

When Lily had first met him at eleven she had sworn to loathe that wanker forever. He used to be mean, selfish, cocky and arrogant. He used to be everything Lily despised on people. And as they grew up and James started to show interest in her, Lily's feelings didn't change. She just became indifferent to Potter. Never even considered the possibility of having something with him.

It was until that night when Lily saw James in a different light. None of his friends were around to show off. None of Lily's friends were around to have an opinion. They were just themselves.

Lily had to admit it felt nice to let her family and Petunia's friends believe James was her boyfriend. Tuney had been the one to bring boyfriends to family gatherings. Not Lily. Never Lily. Sometimes she felt jugded. Like they were thinking there must've been something wrong for not dating anyone in her seventeen years of life.

Lily remembered last New Years when she invited Severus over and how nobody had liked him, nobody had even paid him attention.

Now James was easy going, funny and talkative. It made Lily proud when her Aunties said: "That is a nice boy you got for yourself, darling". It made her proud somehow. Even if it was silly. Even if James wasn't even her boyfriend.

But it hadn't been only that. She had genuinely had fun with James. They had danced, drank, talked and laughed. Lily had liked the connection they had tonight. Lily felt light and with a lot of adrenaline. Maybe James positive energy had made her like that.

All of that was making Lily see James in a different light. Could he be a good first boyfriend for her? Could they be good together? Was Lily blind not to notice Potter before?

James was not perfect. He was not the most handsome bloke. He was good looking and fit. He was kind of popular. He was a good friend. He was a good listener. He was intelligent. He could be a gentleman with her and get along with her family. He was already friends with her friends. Everything looked great.

"Lily?"

Lily had been too focused thinking about that that she didn't hear when James and her mum had asked her something.

"Ha?"

Violet laughed "She is daydreaming again" she said "I hope you are not responsible"

"Mum!" Lily could feel her cheeks on fire.

"Honestly, Violet. I would love to provoke that on your daughter"

As Lily blushed again and hid a smile, she thought about how easy was for James to say things. His confidence was kind of sexy... Wait what?

Lily's mum was laughing "Okay, I'll let you say goodbye. Please James, drive home safely"

"Yes, ma'am. Always responsible behind the wheel"

Lily smiled and shook her head. Her mother was happy as she walked away. Not before whispering in her daughter's ear: "I like this one"

"Mum, we're just friends" Lily went red as she whispered it.

"I'm just saying, you can be good together" Violet whispered back, then she said louder for James to hear "I will be chatting with your aunties in the kitchen"

Then she winked at James as if Lily hadn't noticed. Lily blushed again. She understood that her mum was happy that Lily had "found someone nice". She remembered the many times mother and daughter watched romcoms wishing something like that for Lily. "A nice boy, Lily" she used to say "Not a perfect one".

James kept smiling and staring at her without discretion. Sometimes it was hard to maintain eye contact with James Potter.

"So..."

"So..."

When they both laughed at the same time, Lily was dreaming.

"Are you drunk?" Lily asked suddenly.

"What?" James looked up "No!"

"Good" Lily smiled "I wasn't letting you drive with alcohol in your system"

James raised an eyebrow "Aaw Evans, you care about me?"

Lily couldn't believe she kept blushing like this. It was so embarrassing. But she kind of liked it.

"If you die out there I will be responsible and everyone will blame me. I don't want to carry blood on my hands"

"Selfish reasons?" James laughed "I promise not to die then"

"Good" Lily chuckled. She wanted to say it would be a horrible world without him but contained herself.

Lily had flirted a little over the evening. Which was odd for her, especially with Potter. But it had felt good. Although everytime she was thinking about who she was flirting with, she just couldn't believe it. It was more about pride.

James pushed his glasses up, his cheeks slightly pink when he dared to grab Lily's hand. His skin was warm.

"I had a good time with you tonight" he said, looking into her eyes "Thank you for inviting me"

"Thank you for coming" Lily swallowed "I had a good time as well"

They smiled shyly. James didn’t let go of her hand. She let him. They even played with them swinging them a little. Lily's heart was beating fast. It felt nice to be this close with someone. With a boy.

Although when James leaned in, Lily knew he was going to kiss her. And she panicked. She was a little scared of saying yes to James. To finally giving in and that the magic will go away. That he would no longer like her. Or maybe that she would be another conquer for him. Lily was looking for something more. She wanted so much more. Would James be the right boy for that?

"See you at school, Potter" Lily looked away. Now her whole face was burning.

James looked disappointed but he wasn't angry or anything. He kept smiling at her even if his smile was smaller.

"See you at school, Evans" he replied.

As James put his hands on his pockets, leaving Lily's suddenly cold, and he walked to the door, Lily thought about what would happen with their relationship.

They weren't friends. They weren't strangers. Lately they had gotten along better than before but they still kept bickering. Except for tonight. It seemed like something had changed between them. But it was weird. It wasn't like characters fell in love in the books she read, when there were sparks and romantic music around. Actually Lily didn't know what she actually felt. Maybe desire to start something new.

Lily watched as James walked through the porch and the little patio in front of Lily's house. He turned many times and waved. Lily waved as well. She was still smiling. It was a nice sensation she had inside.

As James reached the street, Lily began closing the door seeing James's figure disappear.

Then Lily felt stupid. She felt a cold shiver on her body. As if something was suddenly missing.

"Come on, Lily" a voice said inside her brain "It is not too late. Do something"

The fact that she was single, that nothing happened to her was because she didn't dare. It happened the same with Luke months ago. She didn't dare. Though now somehow with James she felt braver.

Lily's heart started beating even faster, practically jumping on her chest. She felt a rush of adrenaline as she realized what she wanted to do.

"Fuck it" she murmured to herself and turned quickly to open the door. Lily didn't see James around, and tried not to feel too disappointed as she ran.

She spotted him down the street, hands in pockets and now in the silence of the night, she could hear him happily whistling a random tune. James had to park his Chevy over a bit far because of the amount of guests. But Lily thanked her luck. She could catch him.

Lily smiled thinking she had gone insane and how much she liked it.

"JAMES!" she screamed before he could open the car's door.

James turned with a curious expression. Lily's sudden adrenaline gave her an impulsive to run. Even if her heels were killing her feet at this point.

Lily didn't think as she cut the distance between her and James. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him for a kiss.

It was kind of messy at first because they bumped their mouths. But their lips found a way to tangle together easily. That's when Lily started to enjoy it.

Lily had to pull away for a second just to let out a laugh and catch her breath. James was in shock but he pulled her for another kiss. This was delicate and slow. James touched her waist pulling her closer and she ran her fingers through his hair because she had always wanted to do that. It was so soft. And all hers, all hers, all hers.

When they were out of breath, Lily smiled feeling her face burning. In a good way.

Then she said "Okay, bye" and ran away back to her house before James could say anything else.

She was happy fantasizing about James's reaction to her kiss but didn't dare to look back. She only stopped when she was safe inside her house. She leaned on the door trying to catch some breath and she laughed. Lily was so happy she couldn't hide it.

What she didn't see was James beaming like a little child putting his fists up and jumping as he screamed.

Their first kiss was magical. One on their own. And they would never forget it.

[samcvrpenters]

word count:  2.4k+

pairing:  joe goldberg x fem! reader

summary:  you knew that he was never going to let you go, but you didn’t expect him to do this.

warnings:  obsession, bodily harm, kidnapping, stealing, stalking, mentions of sexual content 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

you never thought of joe being so cruel to you. he was the most perfect boyfriend that you could have ever asked for, compared to that pretentious man who had the ego the size of a planet. 

he was amazing from day one— his personality, his kindness towards you. he was everything that you were looking for.

your first date was a simple coffee one. cliche, yes. but it was the most incredible thing that you had been on. he paid interest to you. he was into the same stuff you were into— literature. he did own his own bookstore, so that made sense.

your second date was almost planned out exactly how you wanted it to go. it was the one that had been swept through your imagination day after day. it was your fairytale. everything was meant for you. and he was the handsome love interest who was coming along and adequately caring to your needs.

joe had never found himself so enamoured by someone before. maybe it was your hair. maybe it was your smile as you walked into the bookstore that he had only recently opened— similar to him meeting beck. but you were nothing like beck. 

you treated him so much better than her. of course, she was fine at first but she eventually got moulded into something that he hated.

maybe it was your personality. you were so unique in contrast to love. love was exactly like him. well, no. not exactly like him. she was impulsive and rash and overly distraught about every little thing he did, even though there was no real reason to be. but you weren’t like love.

he had never found himself so in love before.

marienne was probably the closest thing he had to that— considering he had chased her half way across the world and then took her. 

but, no.

if he was asked if he was in love with anyone he would most likely frantically nod his head and then gesture to you. he never really knew the difference between love and obsession.

but now he had accepted himself?

he was willing to merge the two together in order to show how much you truly meant to him.

he didn’t care about your flaws. no, he mainly told himself that those flaws were what made him so attracted to you. he told himself that you were so perfect. you could never be imperfect in any way. not like kate— who was only there for the short time he was in europe and a little after to satisfy his need for love and attention.

his love language was different to yours.

he often found himself going back to old habits. he had broke into your apartment shortly after your first date by climbing mountains of stairs along the outside of the building before discovering shortly after that your window was unlocked.

and that honestly couldn’t do.

he had to look after you. it was obligatory. he couldn’t let you go leaving everything unlocked and open for some psychopath to come crawling into your room and snatch you in the middle of the night. steal you from him.

he had shortly found the spare key that you kept hidden in the apartment if you ever lost the one that you owned yourself, deciding to keep it for himself.

his hands went all over your apartment— fingers brushing over the surface of tables and counters and chairs, and even over the blankets on your bed. he felt so connected to you.

joe found himself snatching things up: jewellery (mainly that little thumb ring you had been given a long time ago), underwear, that lip balm that you had bought only a few days ago. you would just assume you misplaced it.

he couldn’t help himself. 

everything was to do with you. and he had never felt better in his life. like he belonged. because, of course he did. he was just slowly fitting himself into your life, one item at a time. 

he found those books that were piled up near your bed and almost found himself tidying them up for you. but, no. that would be too obvious. 

he left a little while later, using that spare key he had picked up whilst he was exploring.

he watched through that big window (which he had actually locked for you), as you got ready to go out somewhere after a long day at work. he saw you looking for that ring in your jewellery box, and giving up once you couldn’t find it.

where were you going?

it ended up only being a friendly meeting. you and your best friend had gone out to a bar.

he couldn’t help his eyes fixing upon your lips as the wine glass gently touched the flesh, making them wet with alcohol and making him desperate to run his fingers over them to make them dry again. maybe he would allow himself to press his own against them, wetting them once more with his saliva. fingers would curl into your hair and he would be able to take you home. 

he would push you up against the wall and pull your legs over his waist, heels near his hips as he would leave purple bruises near your neck, hearing those soft sounds escape your lips until he would eventually bring you so high.

you two fit perfectly together— and that was shown as time passed and your relationship flourished.

what joe didn’t expect was that you would find the box. there was always a box. and it usually got discovered, didn’t it? he should’ve been more careful. he should’ve hidden that severed finger. he should’ve got rid of the rotten teeth.

every little thing he had done that had tainted his sanity was in the box. and, god. you wished that you never had discovered it.

you adored your relationship with the man. but now? now, that was all over.

it happened on the night of one of your dates. you had just gotten back from a, quite frankly, expensive dinner from one of the restaurants along the street. he was fairly wealthy now (more because of the fact he had took all of the money out of a certain lockwood’s bank account), and he wanted to treat you the best.

he wished he could turn back time, honestly. hide the box in a better place. or better off, not have one at all. that would make the situation so much easier than all of this.

you discovered the cardboard shoe box when you were looking around his apartment. he had gone to use the bathroom, and you took it upon yourself to have a look round. after all, he was your boyfriend. he had been in your apartment plenty of times.

but that small tile in the kitchen that was slightly askew? you were observant, so you spotted it almost instantly. 

opening up the top and seeing so much blood— whether it was from the finger or your own personal items you didn’t know, but it was so disgusting that it almost made you faint from horror.

the only thing on your mind was escaping, so, with a heavy heart, you buried the objects back into the depths of the box and had roughly shoved it back into the floor, pushing it in tightly enough so that it wouldn’t show anything at all. you had manoeuvred the tile in such a way that it fit, yet wasn’t in the same way joe had placed it.

you weren’t meant to make it obvious.

yet it was so plain to see that by the time you had reached the door in able to get out of there as fast as possible, you were met with darkness.

you were observant, yes. but he was better. he was always one step ahead. he knew what you could do. and he had to refine his own abilities in such a subject so you couldn’t outsmart him. he never wanted you to be better than him. he wanted to care for you. he wanted you to need him.

he hadn’t constructed that glass prison in his other home yet. yes, he had two places to live. it was to be expected. how else was he meant to make you trust him enough?

he didn’t think he would need to pull it together so soon. he didn’t think he had to pull it together.

so he had to settle for this: your hands tied uncomfortably with rope to that wooden chair at his kitchen table, ankles secured too. he didn’t want to risk anything. 

but he didn’t want to make you too uncomfortable. he didn’t want to hurt you. so he let them be a little looser than he usually would.

of course the incessant crying and sobbing would come into play. it always did. he always expected it from his victims. it was a guaranteed. you were only human, after all. it was in your nature.

he could only comfort you, soft words being whispered into your ear as he had knelt down in front of you, hands cupping your face and stroking your hair out of the way. he would be nice. he had to be nice to you. he loved you.

as soon as he left to go and get something, you knew for a fact that you had to make a run for it.

you had no idea what he was doing, but he had muttered something about changing before he left you in your lonely place beside the table.

your hands were pushed against the rope, and you slowly managed to pry them out from underneath them— even though it took a lot of squirming. you immediately went down to the ones at your ankles, pulling them undone before making a run to the door and opening it.

thank god it was unlocked.

you made a run for it, footsteps loud and practically slamming against the stairs as you made your way down to the bottom of the building, eyes glancing around at where to go next.

you let out a terrified shriek as you notice blood at your feet, taking a multitude of steps back until you bump into something.

you manage to turn around, bracing yourself for whatever was behind you and noticing that it was the corpse of one of your friends. one of them that attended the library you volunteered at.

what the hell was she doing here?

did you really expect to see those red streaks across her face, skin ripped off at the cheek and showing the hollow bone underneath the flesh that seemed to be a mixture of colours? the blood from the injury and the skin had almost merged together. it was truly horrible to look at.

“when will you learn?” an exasperated sigh comes from behind you, immediately telling the fact that it was joe’s voice.

the person you trusted so dearly.

before you could turn around and at least attempt to defend yourself, you could feel his fingers wrapping around your arm, fingernails digging into your skin as he pulled you back. you could see the blood that laced his own skin as he made contact with you.

“get off me!” you immediately shout, a scream coming from your throat as you manage to pull your arm away from joe and run back, your footsteps heavy against the stairs as you went up.

really? going up the stairs? was that the best idea you had in mind when you thought of escaping?

but you were so exhausted.

who could expect you to go even further than you had already? nobody did.

he began running up the stairs after you, and by the third flight of stairs he had managed to get a hold on your foot, pulling you down so that you landed face-first onto the edge of one of the steps, your nose crunching painfully as he dragged you down to the lower level,

“why are you so insistent on running?” his voice was rough as he keeps you against the floor, ignoring your panting and rugged breaths as you attempt to pull yourself together.

“we could’ve done so well. and now you’re pushing me to do this?” he definitely didn’t sound happy.

the first hit against your leg is absolutely excruciating. the worst agony that you could ever feel in your life. the scream you let out is worst than the last, and the time before that. you couldn’t believe that someone you cared about with all of your heart was doing this to you.

your right hand flies up and attempts to grip the bannister to pull yourself away from the attacks being made on your leg, but he almost immediately pulls you back towards him. 

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.” but he wasn’t. he was only trying to soothe you to make it easier on you. he knew he would keep going. he wouldn’t stop until he had decided it was enough.

the second hit hurts the same.

so does the third.

but the fourth is a little dull, one that you’re still able to feel but one that you’ve grown used to.

the sobbing and the panting and the breathing was so impeccably satisfying to his ears that he wanted to hear so much more from you.

the fifth causes your bone to break— and you’re honestly surprised by how long it lasted. 

“please don’t run from me. please. i don’t know what i’d do without you.” his words are soft, a sharp contrast to his actions against your limb. 

your eyes feel heavy, the pain running through your leg and your entire body like it never truly had before. your hands stopped trying to grasp for the bannister and he had finally managed to get you to stop squirming around.

he lifts you into his arms, almost like you’re a fragile piece of glass that would break if he even ran his hand across the wrong area.

he carries you with ease up into his apartment, laying you gently down on the bed and almost admiring how you looked. so vulnerable. so sweet. he had to protect you. even if it meant doing something so harsh to you, that you wouldn’t even be able to love him more for it.

and now you understand.

escaping?

it’s not possible. 

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

so, i was thinking about tate fitting into the yandere trope (more than he already does lol) and being extremely obsessed with reader and when he decides to tell her about his feelings she tells him she's already in love with someone else. tate doesn't accept that, cause if he cant have her, nobody else cant

oh, i had fun with this one. hope you like it :)

~~~

His Obsession

Tate Langdon x f!reader

warnings: murder, torture, hints of smut, hints of suicide, stalking, very bad obsession (as the title says lol), abusive relationship, manipulation, idk what else

summary: since the moment he saw you moving in, tate knew you were going to be his. no matter what.

word count: 2.5k

~~~

Tate watches as you flip through the pages of your magazine. You’re lying on your bed, music blasting in your ears. Even if he was visible to you, he doubts you’d even know he’s there. You’re too busy looking at pictures of clothes and celebrities. You hum along to the song playing, your voice soft like velvet. What once made his invisible heart race now makes him sick. He feels a tear roll down his cheek as he watches you. How can you be so content? How?

He’s been watching you for months, half of it without your knowledge. He knew the second he saw you moving in with your family he needed to have you. He remembers watching you unpack boxes, making what used to be his room now yours. Within the first week of you being there, he warned every other ghost in the house to stay away. You are his, only his.

The first time he revealed himself to you, he pretended to be the boy next door. He remembers the look on your face as if it were yesterday. You stared at him with a look that made him almost feel as though he were alive again. It was like heaven. You let him hang out with you in your room, the connection between the two of you forming immediately. He remembers how easily you opened up to him, and how within only a week you wanted to be his friend. It went just as he planned.

On Halloween he took you out to the beach, it was the best night of his life. He often thinks back to how that night went. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore as you opened your legs for him for the first time. You were so willing, it almost made him angry. But he knew it must’ve been hard to resist him for that month before Halloween, so he gave you a pass on it.

He remembers everything about that night. The way you told him he was the sweetest boy you’ve ever met, the way you looked at him as though he was the only boy in the world. Even though he was the one who kissed you, you didn’t object for one second. In fact, you were the one who laid back on the towel and started to slide your pants off. He remembers how gentle he was with you, how he almost let it slip that he was in love with you. The way you made him feel that night was a feeling he never felt before in life or death. You were so warm, so tight. He could barely contain himself. It was everything he had dreamed of and more.

After that night, his obsession only grew. Suddenly, almost every time the two of you saw each other, you had sex. He thought you were in love with him too, so he let it happen. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Each time you came on to him, he felt like he was floating. You wanted him. You wanted him to do things to you that were special, that made two people as close as they could be. It felt like an honor.

“Oh Tate,” you’d moan. “You’re perfect.”

He would look at you, no matter what position, and think about how lucky he was to be with you. You were the girl of his dreams, his obsessions. He loved you more than anyone. If he could, he would die for you, he would kill for you. Both without a second thought. Even now, he still would.

Right now, he wipes the tear that fell down his cheek and reveals himself. He walks over to you, tapping you lightly. You flinch, but once you realize it’s him you smile and take off your headphones, patting the spot next to you on the bed for him to lay.

“Have you been here long?” You ask.

Tate shakes his head and gets onto your bed. “No, not really.”

“Oh, that’s good. All I’ve done today is be lazy. I actually thought about calling you but then my mom gave me this to read,” you say. You turn your head and he watches as you really look at his face. “Were you crying?”

“No, just allergies,” he lies.

“Are you sure?”

He nods. “I uh just came here to talk about what you said last time we saw each other.”

“Yeah...” you say, your smile disappearing. “I’m really sorry for that, I just thought you should know about him.”

“Who is he?” Tate asks. He doesn’t know whether he wants to cry or kill somebody. Perhaps he wants both.

“Just a guy from one of my classes. I don’t really know how it happened, we just clicked. Don’t think this means I don’t want to stop talking though Tate, of course I still want to see you. I just think we should strictly only be friends, nothing like what we were doing,” you answer.

Tate scoffs. “What we were? I thought we were in love, I thought you were my girlfriend. You told me you loved me.”

“And I do love you Tate, just not in the way you love me. You’re like my best friend, of course I have love for you,” you reply, only making the anger build inside him.

“You don’t hook up with your best friend,” he says. He stands up, his anger taking control. He runs his hands through his hair, he needs to calm down. “You told me you needed me. You told me I was your perfect boy. How is that friendly?”

You sit up, looking ashamed. “I don’t know. Maybe I thought I was in love with you but then I met Jake.”

Tate takes a deep breath before climbing back on the bed and taking your hands in his. You look him in the eye, guilt all over your face. He can’t help but want to kiss you. He wants all of this to be some sick joke, he wants you to take it back. How could you have him convinced the two of you were in love for months then one day say that’s never what it was? How could a person do that? More specifically though, how could you do that to him?

“I’m sorry Tate,” you mumble. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“So, take it back y/n, forget about this guy and stay with me. I want you to be mine, forever, I can’t ever just be your friend,” he replies.

You shake your head, tears forming in your eyes. “That can’t happen, it would never work out.”

“Yes, it would. Y/n, I will never let anyone, or anything hurt you, I’ll love you till the end of time I swear,” he argues. He lifts one of his hands and gently wipes a tear from your face. “Please.”

“Tate...” you whisper.

He doesn’t think before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. He needs this, even if it’s the last time it ever happens. It’s no surprise that you don’t push him away, he knows you can’t help yourself either. Your lips move slowly against his. Both of you are crying now, your tears mix. But after only a few minutes he pulls away.

“You want me too, you know you do deep down,” he mumbles.

“It wouldn’t work, we’re not a good fit.”

“Your mind has been poisoned by that other guy; did you tell him about me?”

You nod.

“He just wants to turn you against me, he’s jealous of what we have,” Tate whispers.

His eyes are soft, tears still streaming down his face. He almost lets out a sob when you reach out and touch his face. Your sweet hands could never hurt a fly. He wraps his arms around you and pulls your body against his in a hug. It’s comforting, he loves how warm you are. He can hear your heart beat, it’s beautiful. He lies the two of you back down on the bed, his head resting on your chest.

“I can’t keep fighting without you,” he says.

“I know,” you reply. You move your fingers through his blond curls, he feels at peace.

“You make the bad thoughts go away, you make me feel normal,” he continues in a soft tone. “If you leave me, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

He looks up at you and sees how hard you’re trying not to cry. It pains him. He moves on top of you, his face hovering over yours. Your eyes are full of so many emotions, Tate can’t read them all. He leans down once again and kisses you. There are so many emotions flowing through the both of you and they all come out in this kiss. But this time, it becomes more than just a kiss.

Soon enough the two of you are doing what you do best, and even though he’s hurt Tate still can’t get enough of it. He slides inside of you gently, just like the first time. You drag your fingernails across his back, your head thrown back. Tate loves the expressions that form on your face, so fucking pretty.

He leans his head down so his lips are right next to your ear and whispers under his breath, “No one will ever make you feel as good as this, never.”

You don’t reply.

~~~

The first day you bring that guy over Tate watches darkly from the shadows. He hears what you say to him, the same things you used to say when the two of you were together. It makes him sick. He thought you changed your mind, but the day after everything went down you went back to your previous choice. You want Jake, not Tate. But he’s not going to let that happen.

When he goes to use the bathroom Tate strikes. He knocks him out with one swift blow to the head and drags his body down the stairs and into the basement. He ties him up in a chair and takes his phone, quickly texting you saying he had to go home early. Tate knows you won’t go down into the basement; it’s always scared you. He’s glad.

The guy, Jake, wakes up after ten minutes. He starts screaming, but his mouth is duct taped shut. He wiggles in the chair, it amuses Tate. He moves so fast the chair almost falls over, that’s when Tate emerges from the shadows. Jake stares at him, his eyes wide.

“I bet you’re wondering why you’re here right now,” Tate starts, Jake tries to rip out of the duct tape. “I can understand wanting her, I want her too. She’s the prettiest, sweetest, most wonderful girl I think either of us will ever know.”

He walks close to Jake, his dark eyes locked on him. “Only one of us can have her though and it’s going to be me. You see, once she starts to realize you aren’t returning her calls anymore, she’s going to be upset, and she’ll run back to me so fast you’ll just be a bad memory.”

Jake squirms in the chair as Tate walks back into the darkness. He returns within seconds though, a bloody stained hammer in his hand. The boy in the chair screams into the duct tape, it almost makes Tate smile. He walks to him again, stopping only a foot away.

“She’s mine, and you’re going to die with that thought in your head.”

With that, Tate starts to smash the hammer into the other boy's head, the sound of his skull cracking like music to his ears. He doesn’t go too hard though, no. He wants him to suffer. He smashes his kneecaps, his elbows, all while the poor boy is still alive. But when he gets too close to being dead Tate stops and drags his body outside, being careful so you won’t see. He throws the boy's body over the fence into Constance's yard, his spirit won’t even be able to reach you.

After he’s done, he cleans himself up and returns into the house, a smirk on his lips. You’re his again, he knows it.

~~~

“Tate, can I ask you something,” you speak.

The two of you are in your bed again, you’re lying on his chest. It’s been a week since he killed your boyfriend, and so far, he thinks he’s gotten away with it. The boy’s face was too mutilated to identify at first sight, and besides that Tate hasn’t heard his identification on the news or from you. He thinks it may be his perfect crime.

“Anything,” he says after a few seconds.

You sit up, covering your chest with the blanket. You look nervous. “Um, I know this may sound crazy but, did you kill Jake?”

“What?” Tate replies. How did you find out?

“That body in Constance’s yard, it was Jake,” you answer.

“Why would you assume it was me? Of course, I didn’t kill him that would be crazy,” he lies, pretending to be offended at your accusation.

“You were the only one who had a problem with him Tate, and you live right near my house. Listen I won’t- I won’t turn you in just tell me the truth,” you explain.

Tate sits up too and looks you in the eye. “Why does it matter? You’re back with me y/n, and since he’s been gone there haven’t been any issues between us. I thought you were happy.”

You scoff and get out of bed. “Tate you killed an innocent boy!”

“So what? We are happier without him; we are happier together. Whether I killed him or not those are the facts.”

“Are you serious?” You ask, a horrified expression on your face. “Did you do this so I would fuck you again?”

“No!” he exclaims, getting out of bed on the other side. “I did it so we could be together, I did it because I love you y/n. I love you way more than that jerk ever could.”

You pull on a t-shirt and underwear before heading toward the door. “This can’t be happening.”

Tate quickly pulls on his boxers and follows you. You’re about to open the door but he slams it shut with his hand. He towers over you from behind. He can see your hands are shaking, you’re afraid of him. He can’t have that.

“I’m not going to hurt you y/n, I would never hurt you,” he says softly.

“You’re a killer.”

“You love me, and deep down you’ve known what I’m capable of.”

You begin to cry. “How could I have been so stupid?”

“You aren’t stupid,” he tries to comfort you. He wraps his arms around your torso in a tight hug.

“Yes, I am, I fell in love with a monster,” you mumble.

Tate holds you close, his lips kissing the top of your head. It’s all coming together, he thinks. He knows you’re going to kill yourself soon, you can’t handle this. Once you’re dead he’ll finally be able to tell you the truth of this house. But by then you won’t be able to get out.

If he can’t have you, no one else will.

~~

a/n:

why did i just realize this can kinda be a prequel to a cruel punishment???

[georgiapeach30513]

Much Too Fast, Part 4

Summary: time for some truth

Pairings: Curtis Everett X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings:  language, mild sexual imagery, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.2K

Previous

Series Masterlist

To say that your mind has been racing since that night with Curtis would be an understatement. You and Curtis had this raw — attraction. And even that is putting it mildly. You had long given up on the fact that it was just sexual attraction. That is clearly there. My god was it there. Every night your body hungered for him. Could still feel his hands all over your body, and the way that he stretched you out, but it still felt like he fit perfectly.

You never thought you would ever see him again, and this predicament that you are in is nauseating. You have to see him every day, and you get to see him with a child. Not just a child, but this sweet clingy baby. She is completely a daddy’s girl, and you find him so much more attractive because of it. And it sucked. And not the good kind of suck. The worst kind. The kind that is irritating because you can’t do anything about it.

He is married. Regardless of whatever their relationship was or is, he is still legally married. Tati hadn’t been in the house long enough for you to see if he did in fact sleep alone or with her. Poet had space in his room, and yeah, you were nosy and checked her mom’s room, and there was no signs of Tati being a mother or Poet having space there. It looked just like a staged room that

The living room is decorated in black and white photos of the sweet baby, and even of Curtis and her, and you have discovered only one where Tati was photographed with her daughter. You could completely be projecting, but you didn’t see the same glow about her or warmth in her eyes like you did Curtis’. And you wondered if Tati resented Curtis for making her have Poet.

The sentiment that she didn’t want her baby lingered in your mind. And you fully believed women should have the right to choose the path for themselves, but you couldn’t imagine a life without Poet. It puts you in such a predicament because you love this baby, and you find yourself judging Tati for the life she didn’t want, but chose for someone else. And clearly she let Curtis take the brunt of the responsibility. As is her right, and Curtis didn’t seem to mind.

But watching the sweet baby crawl around her play area while you make her something to eat, and she sits up to jabber away at you makes your heart swell. Bursting wide open because you want to give her all the mothering love you could. Something inside of you told you that Tati didn’t make that a priority. It is a weird sick cycle that she was present enough to say she’s a mother, and then away more than you were told to live the life that she actually wanted.

It put Poet in a an uncomfortable limbo. She could never be at ease in her own home, and that hurts your heart more than anything. That this small baby who could only crawl knew there is a disconnect between her and her mother. And it made you that much more protective of her, and also believe Curtis’ words more because why would he lie? He didn’t seem like the one that struggled to find someone to have sex with.

Of course you told yourself that he was someone who couldn’t just sleep with anyone. Even though he slept with you after knowing you for a few hours. But that was completely different. There was an odd connection. Hopefully you aren’t just thinking that to make yourself feel better about that one night stand. But what were the chances that you were thrust into his life in a more permanent way?

How was it that this guy you met one night was the very same guy that you were hired to watch his daughter? Was this divine intervention in your life or was this a sign for you to stop thinking everything is connected. That those coincidences still actually happened in life.

“Hey, sweet girl,” you coo, reaching in to pick her up. Lavishing kisses all over her sweet face before carrying her into the kitchen for lunch. “Now, don’t you make a mess and be all cute with your crusty face today, okay?”

“‘Tay,” she giggles, leaning her head into your neck. She is one of the most precious babies you have ever met. She wasn’t quite a year old and she has this great personality. She says a slew of words, adding in dada and mama pointing and moving her eyebrows like she’s carrying on a real conversation.

“Oh, I know. You and daddy are best friends. And he is naughty and lets you sleep in the bed with him when you wake up crying, doesn’t he?” More giggles and nonsense, and you hand her the plate with her own spoon. You are supposed to let her feed herself first before you make sure she gets plenty of nutrition.

“Yep, you’re an independent lady, and you don’t need daddy to cater to you.”

“Yep,” she responds, shoving a handful of food into her mouth. You didn’t care if she got messy. Babies were supposed to get messy. That’s what bathtime was for. Or a quick rinse and pool time. “Uhh!” She gets excited, hearing the alert that someone is pulling into the property. “Dada!”

“I don’t think that’s him,” she couldn’t be swayed, and she has a chorus of ‘Dada’ ringing out into the kitchen. Cars coming in meant her daddy was coming and home to her, but a quick message from Tati this morning, you knew it was finally her return.

“Dadadadadadadadada!” She squeals all the way until Tati walks through the door, sweetly saying Poet’s name as she puts her luggage down. “Uhh,” clearly that isn’t who Poet wanted to see. And as Tati rounds the corner into the kitchen the baby’s frown deepens. Pouting up at you as her mom barely kisses her forehead.

Tati looks even more put together than you remember. She supposedly just returned home, and every bit of her is in place. Perfect hair, perfect makeup, perfect manicure, an outfit that clung to every curve. She even smells fresh and expensive. Obviously flying treated her better than it did you. You are nothing like Tati. You feel homely and plain next to her in her giant heels and long legs.

“Someone acts like she needs a nap with how mood she is, and…a bath. Darling, mommy is going to take a long nap. Grace, do you mind keeping her this evening? I don’t know Curtis’ plans, but I have dinner reservations that I can’t miss,” so much for wanting to spend time with her daughter. Already making plans to be with someone else. No, you can’t judge her. She didn’t want this life. But you wished she would stop hiding behind a facade of a happy family life.

“The place looks incredible. I knew you could keep it up to my standards. Poet, you look as if you’ve grown a few inches,” most parents would feel sad about their child growing, and missing it. She seems to just state the obvious. “How has everything been here?”

“It’s been great,” it was even hot when her husband was willing to fuck you in the pool.

“I hope her daddy has been hospitable to you,” yeah, he’s had his hard cock pressed against your core, while you could only think about his relationship with his wife. “Anyways, I think I’m going to go for a bath, and a nap. Carry on.”

“Tati, can I ask you a question without sounding too forward?” She sighs, but nods her head. Nervously looking at Poet, and you didn’t even want to talk about her daughter. You want to know more about her husband. “Umm, Curtis and you don’t share a room?”

“He snores, and I can’t sleep,” lies. He didn’t snore that much, and their rooms are on opposite sides of the giant house, and on different floors.

“It’s just he’s in a much smaller room beside Poet’s on the main floor.”

“Was he bothering you in the pool? I told him and his slutty…I mean, I might have mentioned that you were given free range of the pool, and he shouldn’t bother you. It’s fine. He’s just a much more hands-on parent than me. I can’t only parent how I was taught, and that was to continue living your life while you made sure your child had the best of everything including care. And I’m just not good at being a mother. I didn’t want this,” she stops her train of thought. Breathing deeply as she presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose. What started off as questions about Curtis became her ranting about how she parents.

“Parenting is complicated, and every parent is going to do things differently, and I’m not a bad mom. I’m not.”

“Oh, I didn’t — no, you have provided your daughter with a safe environment to grow and learn, and…I think I’m not making myself clear,” while it did bug you that Tati great Poet as an afterthought. But she did in fact make sure her daughter was taken care of. She just had no relationship with her.

“What is this about? It’s my slut husband, huh? Can’t keep it in his fucking pants. I knew it when I first saw you. I knew he was going to come onto you. So have you slept with him?” Oh this is turning the wrong way entirely. “Quite frankly, I don’t care. Curtis and I don’t have that sort of a relationship. But I don’t want you getting involved with a man that has no desire to be tied down,” oh dear.

She is saying the words you’ve been wanting, but also some you’ve feared. “Fine, seeing how Curtis clearly can’t stop from fucking everything with a goddamn pussy, no. We are married legally. We have no emotional ties to one another. Does that solve that? Fuck him, I don’t care. Just know that he’s not reliable. The only person he even cares about is his daughter. And whoever is getting on their goddamn knees.”

“He cares about you,” you say meekly. Curtis had never said anything horrible about Tati, and yet there is major animosity coming from her concerning him. Back to the theory she really disliked him for making her have Poet.

“Yes, cares about the fact that I was able to provide him with a child,” you gulp, turning to look at Poet who stares intensely at you. Like she is avoiding looking at her mother who is spewing vile nonsense about her dad. “This isn’t the most proper conversation to have with you. I apologize, I’m not myself, and I’m tired, it’s been a long day. I’ll need a vacation after my vacation,” you look up at her confused. It was allegedly a business trip. A nearly two week vacation, and she needs another.

“I’m,” she takes a deep breath, watching you and Poet stare at one another, and sighs, “He’s a great guy, but a terrible partner. I don’t need that, and I for damn sure don’t need a fucking man and his need to fucking poke me with their cock every goddamn night. If you excuse me. I need about a three hour nap, and then I’m going out. If you could please make sure she’s taken care of if Curtis isn’t home. You’ll be paid handsomely,” she spins on her heels, heading out of the kitchen, and you look down at the messy baby.

“That didn’t go that well, did it?” She offers you a bit of a smile, covering her face with her messy squished banana hands. “I guess that’s why she’s upstairs and we’re down here. She won’t be able to hear us have fun, huh? You want to get rinsed off, and go swimming?”

“Aye!” She throws her hands up in the air, and your weird interaction with her mother starts to move to the back of your mind instead of the front. Tati is a bit of a liar. She is holding Curtis’ life, and even Poet’s ransom. They couldn’t move forward because she is holding them back. Trapping them in this weird whatevership while she flies off for two week long vacations only to come back to leave again.

You could have left your questions about her relationship private, but at least you had some clarity on their situation from her point of view. They weren’t sleeping together. And it seemed she had no love for her husband. And you wondered if she did for her daughter.

Curtis casually watches you through his blinds. You had acted weird all afternoon, and that is saying a lot considering what had happened between the two of you. You were a bit standoffish. You didn’t make any comment about Tati asking you to watch Poet later than you normally would, and all as she left the house quickly.

He came home to find you and Poet in the sweetest baby yoga moment, and he wished that he was coming home to you and your daughter. Tati in all aspects was an egg donor, but this is what he wanted in life. To see his wife enjoy time with her children. Smiling sweetly in a pose before you help her do her own. He might have looked at your ass in those tight leggings a bit too long. Remembering the way your soft supple skin felt in his grip. Your ass was the perfect size for his hands.

There even was a bit of an argument as he tried to take Poet from you, but you resisted telling him that Tati had asked and she was your responsibility. He just wanted to be closer to you, but it threw him off the way you responded. You never were like that. He knew when he came home and Tati’s car was here that a conversation was had and he didn’t know what.

But now watching you jump into the pool, and come up to the surface, only to swim over to the edge and drink from a beer bottle, he's curious. He should leave you alone for the time being but he couldn’t. There is this weird pull towards you, especially now when he can see that something is wrong. You look distant. Your eyes stare blankly at the water before you lean you head back on the edge. Staring up at the night sky.

He didn’t even want to make an advance, but wants to see if you’re okay. He changes into some swimming trunks before grabbing the baby monitor and a towel as he walks outside. You bite at your lip with the sound of the door opening, but remain unmoving. Seeing how you don’t say anything, neither does he as he eases into the pool. It isn’t until he’s standing right in front of you that you acknowledge he’s there.

Lifting your head up off the edge, you reach behind you, and grab another beer, extending it to him. “You’ve been weird today.”

“Have I?” You answer curtly, grabbing your own beer to take a swig. “You want to tell me the truth between you and your wife, because she really seems to hate you.”

“I see. You talked about me today? Tati’s rendition was very glowing I bet. Someone who is scared of commitment. That I’m only using you for the cunt between your legs,” the fact he knew the basic parts of your conversation means that this has happened before. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not the one gallivanting all over the world with my girlfriend. Shit,” he whispers, realizing what he just announced. Everything makes sense now.

Your mouth opens wide as you stare at him before you place the bottle to your lips and start chugging. Of all the things he could have said, you weren’t exactly expecting that. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Finishing your beer, you contemplate grabbing another one, but instead try to think of something to say. “Girlfriend as in her best friend? Like they just do everything together?”

“No.”

“It’s complicated, huh? So, you’re married to a woman who is dating another woman, and doesn’t want to be a mother, but doesn’t want to admit to that. She’s holding you and Poet essentially hostage because she can’t tell her parents that she’s a lesbian. First it was she didn’t want them to know she was pregnant out of wedlock, but you wanted the baby, and now she’s…I’m just trying to wrap my brain around all this. She’s very angry at her situation.”

It’s Curtis’ turn to turn the beer completely up as he downs the hoppy liquid, and places it on the side of the pool before he grabs another. It is out there now, so there was no point in denying anything. “She’s angry because she’s living a lie.”

“She has more means than most people do. She’s rich, and a grown fucking adult. There’s kids who come out to their parents, and risk being kicked out. She’s a damn adult,” you’re seething. You didn’t care what Tati did with her life, but her life and lies are affecting two people she should love. Two that are stuck. Poet didn’t even seem to like her mom. Definitely didn’t have a loving relationship with her, and Curtis is allowing this to continue as well.

“You don’t understand,” he is really taking up for her. This horrible woman that has stunted his and his daughter’s lives.

“Then make me,” you plead. You need to understand, because you are getting too involved. “Do you want to know what she said about you?”

“I already know. She thinks I want to fuck every woman in my vicinity.”

“And do you?”

“Every?” He smirks at you. He takes a wet hand to run down his beard. Leaving it looking moist and dripping, and you get a flashback of his mouth shining with your slick. “No. Currently there’s only one woman in my vicinity I want to fuck.”

“So I’m just a hot piece of flesh that is living in your house while your wife is fucking around with her girlfriend is that it?”

“You’re mincing words here. No, you’re not just an amazing lay. I’ve only had you once, and yes, I would very much like to have you again. But I think whatever is going on between us is much more than fucking. I’m not hurt by Tati’s words anymore. She’s the type of woman that knows I will move on, and once I fully move on I won’t wait for her timeline anymore, so she strikes before that happens.”

These words. You aren’t sure what to make of them. He leans forward, slowly slotting his lips against yours. The sharpness of the beer dances around on your tongue as you taste it on him. Opening your mouth, you allow his access, and he eases past your lips. Tongues dancing together before you pull away from him.

It isn’t the beer that is making your brain fuzzy, but this situation. So many things are running in your head, but there’s one thing you can’t seem to forget, “And what about Poet?”

“What about her?”

“You both are taking away her happiness. Poet has bonded with me because she needs a motherly love. She doesn’t even know her mom as a mother, but as someone that floats in her life. In and out of her life. I’ve spent more time with her in the past few weeks than Tati ever has, and that’s sad. She doesn’t know that her daughter is speaking words, and crawls so fast I have to chase her around. She doesn’t know that Poet’s favorite food is green peas because she’s such a weird little baby. And she mushes those peas in between her fingers, and giggles before she gobbles them up.”

“But you know that,” Curtis’ beefy arm reaches behind you, grabbing another beer for himself before raising it to you, “This was smart, bringing the beer out here, I mean. Listen, Tati didn’t want to be a mom. So don’t try and make her feel guilty for not being one.”

“Then you need to stop making excuses for her. You need to tell her where you’re at and that you are done with being married to her, so you can move on, and…”

“Date you?” You exasperatedly roll your eyes, and turn to look away from him, but he pulls your chin over to look at him. “Darling, I’m okay with where I’m at, but if you need me to do this for you, and us, you have to let me know. Tati is doing things on her terms, but if you need me to tell her my terms, then you have to be honest with me.”

“I could always go on another date with…”

“Jax?” Your face falls and you look across his face confused. “That’s my partner. There’s a reason why you didn’t get a earth shattering first kiss,” mother fucker. “It was an honest mistake, and he didn’t realize who you were until you showed up, and then when he knew he just made sure you had a fun night.”

“How would he have known who I was?” Now it’s your turn to smirk as Curtis floats away from you. Pretending to be listening to the monitor that shows Poet softly snoring. “Oh, did you tell him about your hot nanny that you fucked?”

“In not so colorful of words, but yes. He knew not to — well.”

“Touch me? Curtis did you think fucking me that one time was you claiming me?” He gives an honest answer by nodding his head, and the serious conversation gets heavier. Breathy and light in a way, but there’s an undertone of need. The two of you are reaching a level of truce for now, but you need more.

“So is this you sneaking into the pool house with me?” He shakes his head no, putting a leg up, his foot presses against your belly. Stopping you from getting any closer to him. “Me sneaking into your room?” Another shaking of his head. And his leg holds you firmly in place. “Then what?”

“If all I wanted was sex, I could have had you so many times. This is me saying you live with my daughter. We have to tread through this very carefully. I don’t want too many feelings involved yet. And it can never be just sex can it? We live in the same house.”

“I actually live in the pool house.”

He takes a staggering breath, and you look down into the water with a big grin, “You have no idea what you do to me. Seeing you with my daughter in a mothering way. Seeing her smile at you, and hold onto you, greeting me at the door only to crawl back to you. I’m a sap for things like that, especially with Poet. If we do this it’s not just sex.”

“If we do this I’m not going to be the other woman.”

“Did you miss this entire conversation? You won’t be,” you have to set some boundaries here. If he wanted you, he could have you. While the divorce was underway. You start to back away from him with a smile, and he starts walking towards you, “Wait. Where are you going?”

“To play with myself while I remember our first night together.”

“What just happened?” Staring hungrily as you emerge from the pool, looking over your shoulders to make sure he was staring at your ass. He isn’t a disappointment, but then he looks up at your face. “Where are you going?”

“If you want more than sex, prove it. You’ve heard what I don’t want, and what I am okay with. And if you want just my body then you can bring the monitor and join me in the pool house. You’ll only get one choice, Curtis,” without even grabbing your towel, you saunter towards the pool house. Holding your breath, and hoping that he doesn’t follow you. Your words sound sure, but your legs quake in fear that he’s going to follow you. That kiss being sweeter touches you in a way you didn’t think could happen.

You hope with every part of you that he can hold off like he said, and is willing to tell Tati that the time has come for a divorce. You hope that he doesn’t disappoint you and is willing to just have sex for tonight. You want Curtis, and you want more than just his cock. The close proximity to him and playing house with him was becoming infuriating.

And before you even reach the pool house you hear the door to his bedroom close with so much force you flinch, turning around to see him place a pillow over his face, and know that he is screaming. Good. You weren’t going to be the other woman. Regardless of if the relationship between him and Tati had run its course. You were going to be the woman. The only woman. So until he made that decision, you were going to be the nanny. For now.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @slowdownbeforeyouregretit @rogersbarber @evelineangel66

[lemotmo]

I'm nervous to send anything but certain topics aren't being posted or answered anymore so this feels safe! But feel free to tell me NO! ❤️

Q. Have you seen the Tik Tok Ryan watched about how if Eddie isn't gay then they've just made him the biggest jerk possible when it comes to dating? 😂 I mean she wasn't wrong. Having hope makes me nervous!

A. Haha, yes, I saw the Tik Tok and it does make him look particularly bad in the context of dating. But it just continues to prove what a very hard corner they've written themselves into where Eddie is concerned. He is not a bad guy. He's not. He's a good man with a very deep sense of duty, responsibility, obligation and expectation. And in that context the women he has chosen to date, post Shannon, make sense. His relationship with Anna was always the obvious head scratcher because on paper she was absolutely the perfect person for him, but the relationship always felt off. Once we got the spoiler from the insider saying she was supposed to be the relationship that led to Eddie's sexuality discovery it made the Anna relationship make much more sense. I know there are some who don't want to believe the insider information, but given Tim's history I think he would have repudiated the claim if it had been false. We have already seen Tim correct false information this off season, so I see no reason why he wouldn't have corrected that one as well if it were untrue. It was everywhere. He knows it was leaked information. Everything Eddie experienced in that relationship further seems to support the idea that the original plan was a sexuality awakening. The panic attacks he was having fit perfectly into this theory as well because Eddie is not a commitment phobe. They never felt like a couple. She felt like Christopher's babysitter. They even had Eddie flat out admit that Christopher loved her so he thought he could force himself to love her too. It's the classic sexuality arc relationship.

Marisol is another mess entirely. You could tell she wasn't meant to be back last season, and they didn't even bother trying to pretend otherwise. I think the Kim nonsense was Tim's way of maybe trying to demonstrate that Eddie just doesn't feel like he can find a connection with anyone else, romantically speaking, and he was reaching out so hard for doppelganger Shannon because he thought she could tell him why. There is absolutely no other plausible reason for that storyline. Eddie specifically told Buck that it wasn't about sex and he didn't want to sleep with her. He wanted to talk to her, and once he was able to, what he talked about was how broken he feels. That is where we are with Eddie. That very much feels like trying to recreate where he was mentally in season 4 without retelling the same storyline. So it feels very much like they're headed in the sexuality direction. I understand people are hesitant to allow themselves to be excited about the possibility. And they are correct when they say we have no proof that's where they're going. But what I will say is that it's okay to say that things feel genuinely different this time around. It feels very different than it ever has before. And we're allowed to acknowledge that. Oliver and Ryan are behaving in ways they never have before. And we're allowed to also acknowledge that. Ryan has very much followed Oliver's pattern from last off season. He has followed the same interview patterns, right down to switching to gender neutral pronouns. And he is following the same fandom behavior from Oliver last season. He is being very openly pro Buddie. Acknowledging the corner the show has written themselves into, and acknowledging the patterns that Oliver and Ryan are following and repeating is not giving false hope or unfairly raising expectations. It's acknowledging the clear change. That's all anyone is doing. If it makes certain people feel better to be adamant that it's not happening, fine. That's their fandom right. But it's other people's fandom right to be excited about and to acknowledge the possibility of the storyline. A storyline that feels very much within reach. Let people be excited.

Hey Nonny! I'm firmly saying YES to be honest. I know that Ali also isn't posting about certain subjects and topics anymore. So please, don't be afraid to drop something in my inbox. As long as it's not about fandom messes, it's fine. Thanks again for doing this. I do appreciate it.

If we all focus a bit more on fandom positivity, we can hopefully counter some of the negativity.

As for Ali's answer? Yes, yes and yes. The playing field has been set and all the pawns are exactly where they should be to get Eddie out of that closet and into Buck's arms (after some extra loopholes, no doubt).

I agree so hard on the fact that it's okay to be excited and hopeful. Let yourself hope. Why not? What have we got to lose at this stage? Besides our sanity that is. 😉

And yes, the people out there who are being cautious about Buddie? They have ever right to be. I mean, nothing is set in stone at this point. So, it's more than fine to want to hold back on the excitement for a while.

We can all coexist just fine, if we respect each others opinions and POVs, because after all:

We all have the same end-goal in mind. 😋

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[sophiamarieispinkbunny-chan]

The Chair Theory Part 2

Yuri, Fiona and Damian’s Chair

This is a continuation of this post, but if you want the summary of the post, I’ve shared my thoughts about how the seating capacity or size of the designer chairs in the volume cover of each manga represents the relationship with others of the person sitting there. I’ve also shared my thoughts on how the comedic inside covers is connected to the person sitting in the cover and the person who sits in the chair in those funny inside chapters are the person who understands the person in the cover the most.

So now let’s move to Volume 5-7 and maybe I’ll analyze Yuri alongside Fiona since I’ve already tackled some of Fiona in the recent post when I compared it to Yor, but her cover and inside cover has some similarities with Yuri that I found interesting.

Volume 5 & 6, Yuri’s Barcelona Chair and Fiona’s Heart Cone Chair

Because of the position of the chair in the cover, it’s actually hard to see how big exactly the chair Yuri is sitting on, but based on most Barcelona Chair pictures that I see, it is spacious but it seem to only fit one. It could fit two but I think it’ll be uncomfortable, and Yuri seems to be taking a lot of space, indicating he doesn’t want anyone to sit there with him. I think this indicates how, even though he is now in the position that allows him to have relationships with others, he limits himself from doing this, only revolving his world around his sister. It is true Yuri is open and friendly (just not to Loid because he’s her sister’s husband) but he isn’t interested in having an intimate or deep relationship with anyone other than Yor.

I’ve already discussed how the seating capacity of Fiona’s chair indicates her selfish desire to be loved by Twilight. However, even though she loves Twilight, she will never be in a position to accept him for she didn’t love him for who he really was. He was not the perfect spy she deemed him to be. He has flaws, fears and doubts and Yor was the one who sees that everyday and embraces all his imperfections. (I have more to say about her but I've decided to put them in a separate post for I think it's going to be a long one)

So this is the part where we can notice similarities between Yuri and Fiona. Compared to the first four volumes, their inside cover wasn’t something that happens in reality. Both of their inside covers are the fantasies in their minds (notice that's its inside a thought's bubble), their deepest desires; Yuri wants to torture Loid for him and his sister to divorce their marriage (we can see him holding that divorce paper in his hand and also Loid was sitting in a different chair in the cover) while Fiona wants to marry Twilight (We can see her in a wedding dress holding a marriage certificate which opposes the one on Yuri’s and yeah she’s still the one sitting on her chair). And in Fiona’s cover, we also see her desire to get rid of Yor, the same as how Yuri wants to get rid of Loid.

But those things aren’t real, they are trapped in those fantasies and both of them seem to have no grasp of reality or are refusing to admit it. Their inside covers could also display how Yuri is Twilight's antagonist while Fiona is Yor's.

Volume 7- Damian’s Willow Chair

The Seating Capacity

Damian’s chair is too big for a little kid like him as Endo pointed out. He’s also sitting in the middle like Anya, reserving the spots on both sides for their parents. Damian craves for that familial love that was devoid of him. He always felt like he needed to prove himself and work hard in school just to be praised and get attention from his parents. That is why even though he wants to be as laid-back as Anya, and play and be like a normal kid, he can’t because he doesn’t want to disappoint. That is why all of the toys are hidden behind the chair. It was the desire to be a kid that he’s keeping within his heart. 

Oh look, a number 7 pool ball was in front. It could be because this was volume 7 but we all know Anya’s experimental number is 007 too right? Could it just be a coincidence? Maybe… or maybe not.

But in the comedic inside cover, Anya is the one sitting on his chair. Yes, Becky is also there and so is Emile and Ewen but it was Anya who was sitting there, copying his pose. Connecting to my first post, this means that the one who understands him the most is Anya. Besides from being the one who knows what’s on his mind, they were both seeking familial love and acceptance. They are both motivated by receiving praise and acknowledgement by their Fathers particularly. But Damian seems to be serious like what he looks on his cover while Anya could still be a kid and be funny inside of the Forger family.

I love how in the fan book, in Anya’s character profile, it wasn’t Loid and Yor that was in her relationship tab at the bottom, it was Loid and Damian. (Please excuse my annotations 😅)

And for the covers of both these guys, she was the one sitting in their chairs, making the serious covers comedic.

I interpret this how she is the one who makes both of Loid and Damian’s life lighter and happier and how both Loid and Damian are concealing or denying the love they feel for Anya, in terms of Loid, his love for her as a father that is way beyond the mission and for Damian, his crush on Anya that he can’t admit out of pride and embarrassment.

Okay so that concludes the second part of the chair theory. I don’t actually have a lot to say about Volume 8-13, and I don’t know what Franky’s, Becky’s and Emile and Ewen’s inside covers are. I saw the raw but I can’t understand what they’re saying. So maybe I’ll conclude the chair theory through this post for now.

I'll deal with Fiona on my next post because I just realized something but let me gather the evidences first.

[blingblong55]

Old money -John Price

Based on a request: hii!!! i love your fics sm! i was wondering if you could make one with price meeting and having dinner with the reader’s military-based, old money family?? like nate archibald family house typa shit where they have dinner at her family’s big manor 😭 ---- F!Reader, old money, wealthy!reader, established!relationship, fluff/romance?, boyfriend!Price, ----

A/N: Hope ya like it :)

John Price, a military man who was not afraid of most things, except this, driving to your parent's house, who lived in possibly the biggest home he has ever been in. He knew that your parents would ask all about his past and that he would be investigated since your entire family is in the military. Your father is a general, your mother is the head of inter-pol, siblings in the royal marines and your oldest brother is a SAS soldier and there was you, in the Royal Air Force. 

When Price was introduced to you, he recognised the last name immediately. Everyone always treated you differently and as he parked in the mansion's driveway, he understood why you were treated so differently. "I know, I know that it's not a small or normal home but please just act like yourself." You say that this had become a problem with past partners. He nods, "Don't worry, love." His lips meet your forehead and as he gets out of the car to open your door, he talks to himself. "Impress, John...don't be stupid." He opens your door and takes your hand as you get out of the car. 

Walking in he holds his breath, holding your hand and stiffens a little when he sees your dad. "You must be John Price?" Your dad and he shake hands. "R/N, go get ready for dinner, me and John will have a chat." As you return to your room, your mother and siblings are all grinning. "Mummy, don't start, please let's just act normal for once," your voice under control, trying to not show your excitement John was the first man you brought home who wasn't a part of the many family names your parents wanted you to wed. He was also the first man to want you for you, not the money, the recognition or the status, he loved you for your beauty, wit and charisma. 

For John, you were the first girl in which he found himself reading more books, watching the news and caring more about how he dressed. To him, the way you presented yourself was elegant and your beauty could outshine anyone and there he would be, trying to fit in but never daring to outshine you. Diamonds couldn't be outshone, he would explain. Your father, walking him around the home, showing him family portraits, generations of wealth all in past paintings. The grounds of the home were all well kept by the staff, the same ones that greeted John. 

For the first time, he understood that maybe the movies weren't all so wrong but he did notice a mistake all movies about wealthy families had. That was that no one bragged, your dad, a well-known man talked as if he was mates with John. Pass the formal introductions, your dad wanted to make John feel welcome. No need for titles, just modesty and honesty was all that was needed to be found. John of course felt he had to present himself as some man of high importance, after all your family was well off and had many connections around the country and world. "John, let me ask you something," your dad began. "My dearest daughter R/N is a noblewoman, she is kind, smart and holds herself to high standards, my question now is, do you understand her? Care for her beyond her beauty or wealth?"

"Of course I do, Sir." 

"Please, let's leave the formalities for later, John," Your dad pauses and looks at the garden in front of him. 

"I'm glad you see her beyond all that. And the reason I ask, is because she cares for you, matter of fact, her mother and I always wanted her to marry into a family of our choice however, what we noticed, is that she seems happier with you."

This caught John off guard, and a smile formed on his lips. Your dad continued, "She came home last week, told her mother and I about you and for the first time in forever, I saw her gush about someone. She never did this with other men her age and yet, I have reason to believe my little girl is in safe hands and you better believe I'll make sure you treat her properly." 

"I will swear to it. And if I may add, your daughter is beautiful in many ways, she surprises me time and time again. I want to be good for your daughter, I want to be the best version of myself for her," he looks at your dad. "I hope I have your blessing to keep making your daughter shine like the diamond she is," He extends his hand. "Very well," your dad shaking his hand. 

"Now, let's head inside, it's time for you to meet the rest of my family."

It was odd, people at base told him he would have to pretend to be important and yet, he felt more welcomed here than anywhere else. As he walks to the dining room, he finds himself looking at all the small details of the home, from the walls, floors and ceilings. How can someone as stunning as you care for a man like him? He won't ever know.

Your mother, in all her glamour, siblings greeting him with manners and you, with that star smile. Fuck are you all he ever dreamed of. 

"Be yourself and impress," was all that played in John's mind. As all of you sat down, your mother and father began to ask questions. "So, what does a captain like yourself do?" Your mother began the round of questions. "Operations for the military, ma'am." He says carefully. And of course, your family knew all he ever did in his career with the military. "Do you play golf?" Your oldest sibling asks. John nods, "If you count one match as playing golf, then yes." His answer made you smile, at least he was being himself and not some man who wanted to sound like a stuck-up rich bastard. 

As dinner went on, your family grew fond of him and they understood why you would fall for a man like him. He had all the qualities a man for you had and more. "We're hosting a dinner party, we hope you join us." Your mother made the official invite. John squeezes your hand under the table, you smile as if you had won a contest. "I'll be sure to attend, with my beautiful date of course," he kisses your cheek and for the first time since a child, you blush and look away. Your mother chuckles, "Oh to be young and in love."

Back in the car, as he opens the door for you, you turn to him. "Thank you."

"What for, love?"

"Being yourself and proving to me that you are worth it." 

Oh did it make his heart flutter. "No need to thank me, all to be with you." he kisses your forehead and holds your hand to get in the car. 

"Drive safe, kids," your dad says as he waves goodbye. "Will do, sir."

That night, John replayed the evening in his head. The poetry books, the stupid lessons he took, none worth the better conversations he had with you and your family.

As time passes, your family starts to grow fond of him. Siblings call him their brother-in-law, and parents call him son. And there were you, in that dress, overlooking the gardens as you stood on the balcony. "I love you," he whispers, wrapping his arms around you from behind. "I love you best," you say. Wine and laughter, Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine, Cashmere, cologne, and white sunshin. Red racing cars, Sunset and Vine. The kids were young and pretty.

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