#maybe if it happened when bee was older

[quizzicalwriter]

Cola

Pairing: Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were off for spring break, why not introduce yourself to your parent’s new next door neighbor?

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. Infidelity, older Ellie, touching, kissing, fingering, squirting, strap usage (r!receiving)

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Part two / Part three

“Those two always argue.” Your mom huffed out, eyes flickering over to the open kitchen window, the sounds of a shouted confrontation pouring in through the screen. You turned your head away from your mom, squinting to see through the mess of trees and bushes that separated your parent’s house from their neighbors.

Whoever they were, they didn’t sound happy. Some of the words exchanged made you wince, eyes widening as you looked back to your mom with a faint and semi-embarrassed laugh, as though you’d heard too much from someone you didn’t even know the face of.

“Sounds like it.” You replied, hopping down from the kitchen counter to pad over to the island, leaning down on your elbows as your mom kneaded out the dough for her bread. The house smelled lovely, reminding you of your childhood when you’d bother your mom to bits because you wanted to ‘help,’ not realizing your help usually meant tripping your mom up or making her forget important steps in her cooking.

So for now you just watched, committing it all to memory in hopes you’d be able to accomplish something even the slightest bit similar once your break was over and you were forced back onto campus. As your mom placed the bread into the oven you padded upstairs, deciding on changing out of your pajamas, after all, it was nearly one in the afternoon and you had plans to go out not too much later.

You sorted through your dresser, humming to yourself as you stripped yourself of your clothing. You’d never given much thought to your bedroom windows, one faced the backyard and one faced your neighbor's house. You’d never worried about your neighbor before, or now, given the argument you just overheard not too long ago. As you pulled your sundress over your head you turned to your window, consequently locking eyes with your parent’s neighbor who stood dumbstruck in her backyard.

“Fuck-“ You cursed, immediately moving from the window's line of sight as you pulled your dress on. “Great, haven’t even been home for a day and I’ve already flashed the neighbor.”

The embarrassment was still ripe in your mind as you made your way back downstairs, hopeful that some homemade bread would soothe your mind. As you walked into the kitchen you noticed your mom wrapping the bread, her eyes casting over to you.

“There you are!” She stated, smiling brightly. “Can you take this over to the neighbors? Figured that poor girl can use some homemade bread with her wife yelling like that all the time.”

You feigned a smile, not one to turn your mom down for something so simple. So you took the bread, holding it close to your chest as you slipped your sandals on, padding down the front porch steps and over onto their lawn.

It was beautifully manicured, the nearby garden buzzing with birds and bees. You’d only ever seen such manicured lawns on the nicer side of town, where dads took utmost pride in ensuring their lawns looked picture-perfect. Maybe the neighbor was one of those people? You mulled the thought over as you walked up their front porch steps, ringing the doorbell with your elbow after.

You could hear the sound of sports blaring from inside the house, the sound suddenly muted, followed by the subtle sound of footsteps approaching the door. What you hadn’t expected, or at least hoped wouldn’t happen, was that the same woman who’d just seen you naked would be on the other side of the door.

You paled, as did she, her eyes flickering between yours and the bread you now appeared to be crushing in your grasp, the crackling of the crust sounding in the awkward silence shared between you two.

“You’re going to kill it.” She muttered, pointing down to the bread. You jumped, looking down at it, silently cursing at yourself as you loosened your grip.

“My mom-“ You started, clearing your throat as you shook your head. “She made you bread, wanted me to deliver it.”

You handed the bread over, feigning a smile as she took it from your hands, smiling down at it as she flipped it over in her grasp. For some godforsaken reason, you blurted out the one thing lingering on your mind, instead of being a normal human being and brushing past it.

“I’m sorry you saw my tits.”

The words hung heavy in the air, causing her to stiffen as she looked up at you, her face soon twisting into a smile as she broke out into laughter. She laughed for a bit, enough for you to calm yourself and laugh a fair bit yourself.

“Blunt, aren’t you?” She laughed out, wiping beneath her eyes as she caught her breath. “Jesus, kid. It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have been looking. I’m- I’m Ellie.”

You smiled, extending out your hand which Ellie quickly took, giving it a slight shake, although you could tell she was holding herself back as she did. It made you wonder just how strong her hands were, especially since her arm muscles seemed to be made ever more apparent in the midday sun.

“Nice name.” You stated, dropping your hand back down to your side. “My parents are your neighbors, I’m just visiting because I’m on break.”

Ellie nodded, pursing her lips as her gaze flickered over to your parent’s house. “High school?” She asked, looking back at you.

“College.” You replied, rocking back onto your heels. “First year.”

Ellie’s fingers smoothed over the cellophane, the wrinkling of the plastic underneath her hands filling the silence once again. She exhaled then, turning halfway toward her front door before smiling back at you.

“Tell your mom I said thanks.”

You gave her a brief thumbs-up, walking back down the porch steps into your parent's yard, completely oblivious to the fact that Ellie watched you walk back the whole way, eyes fixated on your hips and ass.

Much to your chagrin, your parents were pinnacles of their neighborhood, knowing everyone and everything that went on within the little suburb. It was nice, in a way, the little neighborhood block parties and the way they always had friends to talk to. It certainly took the pressure off of you in some aspects, but what you hadn’t figured was that they’d throw a party during your break.

They swore it was for you and for you to catch up with everyone, you had been gone for a while at college, so in a way, you were thankful and found it cute. What you didn’t factor in was Ellie attending, her hair tied back in a half-bun, white shirt sleeves rolled up halfway, practically sex on legs. You’d hardly heard your mom asking you to cart out some drinks to the table in the middle of the cul-de-sac until she nudged you with your foot, to which you profusely apologized and made your way outside.

Ellie was conversing with your dad, a bright smile on her face, a drink in one hand as the other rested in her front pocket. Your dad noticed you approaching, smiling at you as he waved you over, you put on a brave face and placed the drinks down on the nearby table before making your way over to them.

“Ellie, this is my daughter.” He stated, pulling you close as he smiled over at Ellie. Ellie only nodded, taking a sip of her drink before replying.

“Met her yesterday, she dropped off some bread. Really good bread, by the way. I’ll have to thank your mom in person.”

Your dad laughed and nodded, about to say something further until a few of his friends from around the neighborhood called him over. He gave Ellie a brief apology, walking over in their direction after, leaving you and her alone.

“Nice dress.” She murmured, eyes flickering over the fabric, how it hugged your hips, the way your breasts strained against the top, it made her have to clear her throat.

“Thanks.” You replied, smiling up at her. You took a moment to look around the party, wondering where her wife was amongst all the other partygoers. “Where’s your wife? You have one, right?”

Ellie snickered at your question, nodding in response as she took another drink from her cup. “I do have a wife.” She stated, tone hinting toward a fair bit of irritation on the subject. “She’s with her parents for a while.”

Sensing the irritation on the subject, your eyes widened, looking to the table between you as you pursed your lips. You’d never been one for awkward situations, they always made your nervous laugh flare up. As if on cue, your lips quirked into a smile, one Ellie noticed right away.

“Am I missing out on a joke?” She asked, words sarcastic as she placed her now empty cup down on the table. Your smirk turned into laughter, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth as you shook your head.

“No, fuck-“ You started, laughter continuing as you squeezed your eyes shut. “I have a nervous laugh, your response made me laugh.”

Ellie’s shoulders seemed to drop then, a smile of her own making an appearance as she chuckled, breathing out a lungful of air as she looked over to you. “You’re weird.” She noted, although a hint of something warm lingered in her words.

“I’ve been told.” You replied, tilting your head as your laughter died down. “I’m sorry for asking about your wife, by the way. You seemed pissed at the mere mention of her.”

Ellie shrugged then, sighing quietly as she itched the back of her neck. “It’s no problem, I guess it’s a sore subject. She’s- well, I’m sure you’ve heard.”

You nodded, not wanting to pry on the subject. After all, you were fairly certain everyone in the neighborhood had heard Ellie and her wife arguing at the asscrack of dawn. You’d never been close enough to overhear specifically what it was about, but it was loud enough to startle you on more than one occasion.

“Why don’t you leave?” You asked, knowing the question was a bit loaded. “I mean, you guys argue a lot. I was just wondering.”

She waved off your concern. “I get it, I’ve heard my fair share of it. I’ve thought about it.”

A sigh passed her lips then, one she shook off as she reached for another drink, popping the top off with her thumb before drinking some. As she swallowed she looked back to you, faint worry lines evident against her skin. You wondered how much older than you she was, she had to be at least ten to fifteen years older. The thought aroused you, making you pull your gaze from hers as you tried to focus on the table.

“How old are you?” She asked, seemingly reading your mind. You looked back up at her, smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Nearly twenty.”

She laughed then, eyes widening as she looked away from you. “Would not have guessed that.”

You laughed in response, moving over to her side of the table, propping yourself up on it as you met her gaze. “Why?”

“Well, I’m twice your age, that’s why.” She responded, words soft as she looked down at you.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying to ignore the ever-present ache in your lower stomach at the near condescending tone she used with you. Her age shouldn’t have made her hotter, but it did, it really did.

“You look good for your age.” You replied. “Really good.”

Ellie chuckled in her throat, eyebrows lifting for a moment as she shook her head, eyes fixated on the rim of her cup. “You’re bold.” She stated, words spoken with a sigh as she turned her head to look out at the amassed crowd. After a moment she turned back to you, a coy grin on her face. “You haven’t seen my house, have you?”

There was a hidden insinuation in her words, in the way her eyes hovered over your chest before flickering back up to your eyes. You’d be a fool to say anything other than ‘no.’ So you shook your head, the motion causing her smile to widen as she nodded to her house, inviting you to follow her. Part of you pulled, begged for you to go in the opposite direction, knowing exactly what’d happen once you were inside her house - she was married, for Christ’s sake, but you couldn’t. The way her hand flexed around her drink made your stomach twist, panties coated in your wetness already.

You felt thankful that everyone seemed too preoccupied with the huge pile of fireworks to notice you and Ellie ducking off, even more so once you were inside her house, wordlessly following her through the halls. There were pictures of who you could only assume were Ellie’s family, photos with her smiling brightly, in the middle of fits of laughter, it was precious. You couldn’t help but smile at them as she moved into her kitchen, placing the cup down on the island counter.

“I like your photos.” You stated, moving into the kitchen after her, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of her leaned back against the counter, muscles in her forearms evident.

“Take off your clothes.” She responded, tone nonchalant as though she were asking you to hand her a plate. You didn’t hesitate, eyes locked with hers as you reached behind yourself, unzipping your dress. The fabric slipped down your form, exposing your bare breasts to her eyes. She smiled, moving toward you, raising a hand to hold your hip as the other moved to your breasts, kneading the flesh in her palm as she took in your body. “No bra?”

You shook your head, breaths coming out shallow as her finger brushed over your hardening nipple. “Don’t like them.” You whispered, eyes flickering up to meet hers. “They wouldn’t go with the dress.”

Ellie nodded, smiling to herself as her other hand looped around the hem of your panties, bending down slightly to help you step out of them. You’d half expected her to toss them to the floor, but she balled them up, shoving them into her back pocket. The act was perverse, leaving you clenching around nothing as you watched her stand back up straight.

She traced the back of her hand along your curves, touch so gentle it almost didn’t register in your mind. It almost seemed as though she meant to commit every facet of your being to memory, the thought alone making your thighs clench together, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by her. Her green eyes flitted up to your face, brows quirking up in amusement as she trailed the back of her fingers along your inner thighs, fingertips barely brushing the outside of your cunt.

“Are you aching?” She asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to hear you admit to it. You nodded, wetting your lips. She tutted, turning her hand over to press her middle and ring finger to your folds, applying just enough pressure to gather your wetness on the pads of her fingers. Your legs practically buckled beneath you, a whine dying in the back of your throat as you held onto the counter behind you.

She pulled her hand away then, examining her fingertips under the warm hue of the kitchen lights, a smug smile on her face as her eyes flitted back up to meet yours. She held up her fingers then, pressing them to your lips, to which you eagerly opened your mouth. Her fingers pressed down on your tongue, the taste of your arousal coating your tastebuds as you sucked her fingers clean.

A soft moan passed her lips at the feeling of your tongue laving at her fingers, causing her to ache as well. You could see her pupils dilate, her breath coming out haggard as she removed her fingers from your mouth, brushing her thumb against your bottom lip after. You kept your gaze steady with hers, having to remind yourself to breathe every few seconds.

“Want me to fuck you?” She asked, the question so bold that you nearly forgot to respond until her eyes flicked up from your breasts to your eyes, her brow quirking in question. You nodded.

“Please.”

She bit back a smile, grabbing your wrist before leading you back through the house toward the staircase. The walls and furniture passed by your mind in a blur, only finding yourself able to focus on Ellie’s back and the occasional glance toward you she’d toss over her shoulder. Her being fully clothed while you’d been stripped of everything you’d worn was not lost on you, if anything it seemed to heighten your arousal.

Her bedroom was modest, with a nice king-sized mattress in the middle of the room and two big windows overlooking the backyard and the side of your parent's house - the view was partially skewed by some trees, but you could see your bedroom window. Ellie led you over to the bed, letting you sit down as she moved over to her bedside table. You watched in silent amazement as she removed her clothes, each layer removed exposing more and more of her toned skin to your eyes.

You’d hardly been paying attention to anything else besides her abdomen and arms, finding yourself surprised when she moved back in front of you, hand languidly pumping her strap. She looked at you expectantly, to which you moved from the bed and onto your knees, opening your mouth obediently. She hummed out a laugh, fingers brushing your hair back from your face as she used her other hand to slap the tip of her strap against your tongue.

You wrapped your lips around the silicone tip, relaxing your throat as you began bobbing your head, earning you an affectionate coo as she cradled your cheek, thumb brushing along your cheekbone. Her hips moved forward, pushing her strap farther down your throat, causing your eyes to water as you held back an involuntary gag. You could hear her holding back a grunt at the sight of you struggling to take her strap down your throat, spit coating your chin and dripping down to the top of your breasts.

“You look so good choking on my cock.” She whispered, tone full of pride as she smiled down at you. Her fingers grasped your hair, sharply pulling you back, a string of drool connecting you to the tip of her strap. You licked your lips clean, taking in several deep breaths as you looked up at her. She nodded her head toward the bed, helping you to your feet before guiding you onto the plush mattress, positioning you on your hands and knees.

You rested down on your elbows, arching your back, feeling the cold air against your bare cunt. Her hands smoothed up the back of your thighs, harshly grabbing at your ass, giving the skin there a sharp slap. You whined, leaning forward, only for her to grab your hips and pull you back. You bit into your bottom lip, feeling her drag the tip of her strap up and down along your folds, finally pushing in after you let out a particularly needy whine.

“Fuck-“ You cried out, resting your head on your forearms as you let her hoist your body up, fucking you hard enough for the bed frame to clatter against the wall. You could feel your cum dripping down your inner thighs, each push forward of her hips creating a sheen of your juices around the silicone.

She was hitting so deep within you, surely bruising your cervix, each thrust leaving you gasping into her bedsheets, fingers twisted into the maroon fabric. Her hands grasped harshly at your hips, nails digging into the plush flesh as she fucked her strap into you.

“Take it so good.” She murmured through grunts, voice breathless and strained. Her praise went straight to your cunt, causing you to squeeze around her strap. Her hands moved to your lower back, pushing down until your chest and stomach were flush with the bedding. “Arch that back, baby. Fuck-“

You could hear the lewd noise pooling from between your legs, cum slowly dripping down your skin. You were putty in her hands, wanting her to do everything she wanted with you - and she would.

Her right arm hooked around your waist, hand immediately moving to your cunt where she circled her fingers around your clit, slick noises emanating in the air between your near pathetic whines for her to fuck you harder, deeper - you couldn’t get enough of her. She pressed kisses down the back of your neck to the top of your spine, gently nipping at the skin as she continued rutting into you.

“Gonna cum on my cock, baby?” She all but purred into your shoulder, placing an open-mouthed kiss on your skin in between her words. “Go on, cum for me.”

You could hardly formulate words to reply, all you managed was a strangled cry of her name into the bedsheets, hips jerking in her hold. She didn’t slow down, still fucking her strap into you as she circled her fingers around your clit. Your hands pushed at hers, wordlessly telling her it was too much, all for her to use the hand she’d been using to circle your clit to hold your hands together by your wrists.

“Just stay like that, baby.” She grunted out, cursing under her breath as the base of the strap bumped into her clit over, and over again, bringing her to the cusp of her orgasm. You’d never been one for overstimulation, but the way she had you pinned to the mattress paired with the way her strap rutted against your g-spot left you teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

You were cumming around her strap before you’d even registered it, hips pathetically pushing back to meet her thrusts as you cried out her name into the bedsheets. Everything in your mind seemed to be muddled, finding yourself only able to focus on the sheer pleasure coursing through your veins paired with Ellie’s moans as she fucked you through her orgasm. It wasn't until after you were able to finally fill your lungs full of air that you realized your inner thighs were soaked.

“Holy fuck.” Ellie laughed out, eyes widened with amusement as she pulled out of you, strap dripping with your cum. “You soaked the sheets.”

You felt your face alight, nervous and breathless laughter leaving you as you brushed your hair from your face. “‘M sorry.”

She shook her head, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, undoing the harness before tossing it to the other side of the room, her breaths coming out in shallow pants. “Fuck, don’t apologize for that. Here- wait here, okay?”

You gave her a weak nod, collapsing down onto the comfortable mattress, feeling your thigh muscles twitching beneath your skin. She returned moments later, your dress in one hand and a wet washcloth in the other. She placed your dress beside you, seeming to hesitate in her movements before wiping down the inside of your thighs, the feeling pulling a tired whine from your chest.

After that was a bit of a blur, you’d managed to get yourself dressed and presentable. Ellie put on a different outfit, grumbling something about how her clothes had gotten soaked during the whole ordeal. She was far more gentle than she had been beforehand, seeming to not meet your gaze without a faint blush painted across her cheeks. As she moved with you down the staircase and toward the front door, you turned to her, a naive hopefulness in your eyes.

“Can I see you again?” You asked, giving her a small smile. She looked down at you, lips quirking at the sides. Although you could tell she was struggling with her moral quandary centered around her infidelity. You didn’t know if you’d get the truth from her, but you’d let yourself believe whatever she responded with.

“Sure.”

A/N: This one is so long, I’m so sorry. I have a thing for older Ellie. I ain’t apologizing for that. Anyway!!! If y’all have any requests for Ellie or Abby or anyone from TLOU2 let me know! I hope you guys enjoy this, and thank you for reading or skimming or whatever you do - I appreciate the interactions nonetheless. And you can find all my works over on my AO3 under the user, “Unscriptural.”

[phoenix-fell]

As someone who is both an older sister and raised their younger sibling, let me tell you why this scene was so good

It would be so easy to misinterpret Yang’s protectiveness over Blake here, but that’s not what’s happening. We’ve always seen Ruby as happy-go-lucky, follow-your-heart and do-the-right-thing, and it’s easy to forget that Yang raised Ruby, and the implied subtext there is that it *wasn’t* always sunshine and rainbows.

Yes, Yang is protective over her newfound relationship. Yes, she’ll maybe feel a little wounded that her sister is lashing out. But what we see here is Yang shifting ever so subtly into mother-mode. Yang knows this isn’t about Blake, or her and Blake’s relationship, she’s stepping in front of Blake to protect her before Ruby can say or do something she regrets. In essence, protecting both of them and trying to control the situation from escalating. Yang is stepping in front because she can take it, she’s GIVING her someone to yell at, because god knows she’s probably had to, at some point, take some lip in the past while the others have only ever known her as a strong, positive leader. She doesn’t shout at Ruby, she’s calm, lets her get it out and just looks sternly with a simple “Hey!” as in, ‘hey, that’s enough now’. 

Yang has expressed concern, and is concerned, but this is 100% Yang shifting into parent mode. This is brilliant because earlier in the episode and even last episode we’ve seen examples of Yang’s ‘concerned big sister’ side which is soft and supportive. There’s no malice in Yang’s expression, and it’s difficult to catch it because we haven’t had the best representations of ‘good mothers’ in the show, especially not ones that have had to chastise their kids at some point, but you can bet your ass that this is Yang’s parental mode stepping in to bring calm and stability to a chaotic situation. And that doesn’t always present as ‘let’s hug this out’, sometimes it’s stern, tough love and recognising that the younger one isn’t in the space to receive comfort, so the best you can do for them is diffuse the situation and be an authoritative voice of reason because she recognises her sister’s fragile mental state.

This is without going into how amazing Ruby’s portrayal was. Going after your sister’s new relationship is RAW, and personal, but it’s also what siblings do - they lash out sometimes when they’re under stress. The way Ruby says ‘we’re sOoOo happy for you by the way good for you’ - just SMACKS of younger sibling cutting loose and saying something they don’t mean, which makes Yang’s response all the more realistic for me. She recognises the tone, the almost-petulance and steps in before it can go any further.

It’s so subtle, but it SPOKE to me so massive kudos to Miles Luna and the animators for this. And god bless the clowns that use it as some sort of Anti-Bees discourse - the nuance is entirely lost on you.

[flamingpudding]

Cassiopea and Orion

Ellie had a plan. She promised she had one. This wasn't like when Clocky would sent her off on a mission through time with nothing more but a little note with a cryptic message on what to do.

Danny had given her clear instruction. Before one of her many travels to see the world, Danny, in his mid twenties and she in her late teens, had taken her aside once. Telling her about specific instruction she should follow, should she ever find herself in a moment of need, and Danny wasn't able to help her.

Well, now she was in that kind of situation. Amity Park was destroyed with no survivors. Vlads castle was no more. Both Dan and her got deaged, but Dan had to be put in a frozen state when he started to destabilize. And Danny, he had gotten captured by the GIW shoving her out of harms way and telling her to remember what he told her before.

Ellie was pretty sure Danny was telling her to follow the emergency instructions.

So here she was now. In Gotham. Keeping to the shadows and trying to find her way around.

No one ever bothered to tell her how hard it was to navigate through a city like Gotham. You would think it would be easy to find some guy running around at night in an armored spandex furry costume.

But no, here she was, in a random alley. In a city, Danny had specifically told her to avoid it unless the emergency instruction came into play. Maybe she should just steal a map.

She was contemplatingly staring at a gas station for that until she noticed a shadow jumping over the roof tops. It took her only a second to decide on her next action. Ellie was pressed on time after all.

"Hey you!" She shouted loudly flying up to follow that shadow. "Wait up!"

Thankfully, the shadow listened and stopped on the next rooftop toward her. She insanity noticed it tensing. Now, she noticed that the shadow was a kid. He looked small, and Ellie figured he was probably around 11 or 12.

"You are one of the Bees and Birds, right?" She questioned once she floated a bit closer. Also the kid tensed up.

"You mean Bats and Birds." The kid clicked his tongue at her, crossing their arms.

"Bees, Bats, who cares. My question is you know the big bad bee, right?" She waved the kid of, she had more pressing matter than getting their animals right. "I need to get a message to him."

The kid clicked their tongue once more, huffing and muttering something she couldn't hear. Probably talking to someone on a com. Either way, Ellie took his silence as a form of telling her to continue.

"Can you tell the big bad bee-" "Bat" "-the following?" She ignored the kid cutting in trying to get her message across and follow Danny's instructions to a T.

"Cassiopea is calling out to Orions Nursery before Rho dies to help her youngest."

There was long, drawn-out silence, and the kid was hissing something into coms. Ellie fidget with her finger nervously. Going through Danny's emergency instructions through her mind again until she hear a thud close to her and wirled around.

With wide blue glowing eyes, she looked up at the man dressed like a bat for a couple of seconds before taking on a defensive position. Eyes now narrowed at the man that was clearly studying her.

"I was under the impression that Phantom's youngest child was older. You appear to be no older than five."

"Yea well shit happened!" She shot back, still unsure if she could trust the man even if he mentioned Danny's hero alias. Her hands started to glow slightly as she prepared to attack in case things went back. But the man didn't appear to be phased by it. Not like the kid that was tensing up.

"You will be safe with us. But what happened to Phantom?"

Ellie eyes flicked over to the other kid that had now come closer to stand next to the bat guy before looking back to the big guy. She did not drop her stance yet. Still unsure of how much trust she can put here despite what Danny had told her, she had not yet heard the right response.

The man appeared to sense her distrust, as he kneeled to be on eye level with her. "Jupiter and Rho Cas will not be harmed. Orion gave Cassiopea his word."

Finally, Ellie relaxed, dropping her defensive stance but still watching the man with narrowed eyes. She hesitated a short moment before carefully saying her next words, hoping the man knew enough to k ow the grave meaning behind them.

"Phantom lost his haunt."

[n-i-m-u-e]

What if Rhaenyra had taken over the raising of her siblings

I'm going to write more detailed posts on each of these heds eventually (and possibly add more heds here)

Maybe I'm looking in the wrong area or missing something... But I'm surprised that there's almost no discussion of what would happen if Rhaenyra took over raising her younger siblings. I found literally ONE (1) fic about this and it`s shame! For example, if Alicent died giving birth to Daeron (yes, I'm willing to sacrifice her for that). And Rhaenyra, who shortly afterwards welcomed her first child and felt that incredible overwhelming rush of oxytocin love for Jace, couldn't stand looking at her dear friend's baby childrens (and to a lesser extent her younger siblings) who were left alone . It was obvious that Viserys was still Viserys and didn't really care for them. So Rhaenyra asked her father for permission to raise Aegon, Helaena, Aemond and the newborn Daeron alongside Jace and her future children. Sorry, but I'm just in love with this idea: Alicent's children receive the same amount of care, unconditional parental love and acceptance from their older sister as Rhaenyra's children (!!!)

Aegon grows quite calmly without greens pressure. He has plenty of attention but also a lot of freedom and, accordingly, doesn't try to drown out his anxiety about unwanted responsibility with alcohol and sex from a young age. But even when his adolescent interest in these things manifested itself, it is hard to imagine that his foster mother, represented by Rhaenyra, would have condemned or tabooed it. Most likely, she simply kept it under control and sent Laenor or even Harwin bc girl can dream to talk him about the birds and the bees

Helaena's prophecies will be heard. Rhaenyra spends quite a lot of time with her little sister. Because as much as she adores all her boys, it's the baby girl (long-cherished dream) who fascinates her the most way. Everyone around says that the child acts strangely for her age, but Rhaenyra doesn't see anything too disturbing in her behavior. Over time, she begins to pay more attention to what Helaena saying, and at some point she remembers Daenys the Dreamer

Aegon can make really funny and inoffensive jokes. One time at dinner, he decided to make a joke about Aemond's dragonless, and Rhaenyra looked at him with suuuuuch disappointment, that he never wanted to be the cause of her look 'like this` again

So yes, the boys never bullied Aemond because he didn't have a dragon. But Rhaenyra, who realised his need very well, supported the desire to get one. Perhaps at some point she told the family that she and Aemond would be away for a while and took him on Cyrax's back to Dragonstone, where they stayed for several weeks. But when they finally returned to the capital, Aemond was riding Vermitor.

Aegon and Helaena were not engaged and didn't get into an unhappy marriage later.

Daeron is definitely staying in King's Landing. Because there is no way Otto would have any leverage! But the main motive for Rhaenyra was the inadmissibility of the little boy being cut off from his home, and heritage. And most importantly, Daeron and Jace grew up practically like twins and could not bear to be separated even for a short time.

Aemond is this one, who is most outraged about the rumors about the ancestry of her older sister's children and takes it as a personal attack. Because… because he has very personal reasons!

At Laena's funeral, Helaena approaches her grieving cousins and hugs them one by one, and then says something to Rhaena something about ‘the morning will fix a lot of things’. No one understood at the time, but the orphaned girls were visibly comforted, and for the first time in her life, Helaena Targaryen had friends.

Aegon was going through a phase of severe pre-pubescent crash in Rhaenyra and for several months in a row he tried to challenge Laenor to a ‘death duel’ to ‘free his sister from the chains of marriage’. A few years later, when Laenor ‘died’, it was Aegon who took it the hardest of all the children.

Aemond has the better (perfect) Valyrian pronunciation and two eyes:)

to be continued...

my apologise for any mistakes, english is not my native language and I typed this in a rush at my office instead of the royalty report

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Simon Said | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: mind control, canon violence, canon gore, consent lines blurry bc mind control but nothing happens to the reader, mind control attempted suicide

Word Count: 5301

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“I don't know, man, why don't we just chill out, think about this,” Dean said, trying to soothe his brother.

Sam had another vision while he was washing his face a state or two back. Dean was having to be the level-headed one at this moment because Sam was a complete basketcase. “What's there to think about?” the latter asked.

“I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea,” Dean replied.

“I agree. I like ‘em, but I don’t trust any of them enough yet to tell them about this,” you said earnestly. 

“Guys, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where,” Sam protested. “Plus, it could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do.”

“That’s my point,” Dean said. “There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a— a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?”

“So I'm a freak now?”

You gritted your teeth awkwardly.

Dean slapped Sam on the thigh. “You've always been a freak,” he smiled weakly. 

You looked at Sam concernedly, and it seemed he couldn’t keep still even if his life depended on it.

“Sam, it’s gonna be fine, I promise,” you said. 

He looked back at you, offering a small smile at your attempt to comfort him. You could tell he was unconvinced.

***

When you arrived at the Roadhouse, Jo bounded up to you and the brothers. “Just can't stay away, huh?” she grinned to Dean.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You knew your jealousy was baseless but still could barely hold it at bay.

“Yeah, looks like. How you doin', Jo?” the older brother asked her.

Sam hurriedly asked, “Where’s Ash?”

“In his back room,” Jo replied.

He brushed past her wordlessly.

Jo turned after him, watching him go. “And I'm fine…”

“Sorry, he's, we're... kind of on a bit of a timetable,” Dean explained, following after his brother. You nodded and gave a closed-lip smile to Jo, who returned it, before heading after Dean.

You arrived at a door labeled, “ Dr. Badass is: IN.” You snorted at the sign, and Sam knocked on the door. “Ash? Hey, Ash?”

Moments passed; no answer. You knocked, this time saying, “Hey, Dr. Badass?”

The door unlatched and opened a crack to reveal a stark naked Ash. You averted your eyes, feeling intensely uncomfortable.

“Sam? Dean?” Ash sounded high. “Sam and Dean. And (Y/N). Hey, (Y/N).”

You laughed awkwardly, still turned away from Ash standing in the doorway. “Hey, Ash. Um. We need your help.”

“Well, hell, then! Guess I need my pants.” He shut the door, and you and the brothers turned to move back to the bar.

Sam described the scene from his dream and drew a logo of the bus he saw in his dream. Ash sat at a table with his homemade laptop and somehow found the logo based off Sam’s drawing. “Well, I got a match. It's the logo from the Blue Ridge bus lines in Guthrie, Oklahoma.”

“Okay. Do me a favor—” Sam began. “Check Guthrie for any demonic signs, or omens, or anything like that.”

“You think the demon's there?” Ash asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Why would you think that?”

Dean gruffly replied, “Just check it, alright?”

You shot him a look, as did Ash. He obliged, though, and said, “No, sir, nothing. No demon.”

“Alright, try something else for me. Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, night of the kid's six month birthday,” Sam said.

You looked around for eavesdroppers, only to find Jo cleaning a table nearby and watching your group.

“Okay, now that is just weird, man,” Ash protested. “Why the hell would I be looking for that?”

Sam pulled out a beer and set it next to his laptop. “'Cause there's a PBR in it for ya.”

Before Sam could finish his sentence, Ash replied, “Give me fifteen minutes.”

You sat next to Ash as he continued his work, and Dean left to get a beer from Ellen. Suddenly, REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight This Feeling” started playing from the jukebox. You turned your head to the source of the sound and found Jo sauntering over to a horrified-looking Dean at the bar. Your blood boiled, but you just looked back at Ash and his computer. However, you didn’t register anything he was saying or scrolling through.

All you could think about was Jo’s attempted flirting with Dean. Technically, neither party were doing anything wrong; you and Dean had agreed to be friends for the time being. But you were furious at the thought of the two of them together. How disrespectful would that be for Dean to get with Jo days after saying he wanted you and agreed to be friends for now? Your jaw clenched, and you clutched your beer tighter.

Sam snapped in front of your face. “(Y/N), let’s go.”

You broke out of your thoughts and grabbed Dean’s jacket, pulling him along with you.

“See ya, Jo,” you called over your shoulder, stomping out of the bar with Dean in tow. 

Dean chuckled at you, gently shrugging you off him. He stooped down to your level and whispered lowly, “Jealous?”

You jerked away from him, cheeks heating in embarrassment. “No.”

He just smirked in response and kissed the side of your head. “Sure, sweetheart.” He then walked ahead of you to the Impala. 

You froze, flustered and unappreciative of the effect he had on you. “Dean—!”

***

“Sam, you can’t tell me Lord of the Rings is better than Erin Brockovich,” you argued with the younger brother. The two of you had been locked in a heated debate on your favorite movies of recent years, and these two were the next in question.

“(Y/N/N),” Sam started, “Lord of the Rings is based on six books of Tolkein’s experience in World War I, and Erin Brockovich is—”

“Two hours of fuckin’ perfection,” you cut him off. “Julia Roberts acted those other bitches under the table.”

“But the worldbuilding, (Y/N), it’s not even comparable!” 

“Yeah, if you stick around long enough to learn about it. It’s a snoozefest from start to finish,” you giggled.

He scoffed. “Okay, what about—”

“If you two keep talkin’ film nerd, I’m gonna kill myself,” Dean grumbled.

“Killjoy. If it’s not eighties horror, you’re not interested, huh?” you commented, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back in your seat. 

Dean’s eyes met yours in the rearview mirror. “Did you actually read anything back there, or….?” 

“I did, thank you very much.” You pulled the stack of papers on the seat next to you into your lap. “Andrew Gallagher. Born in ‘83, like Sam. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like Sam.”

“You think the demon killed his mom?” Dean asked.

“Sure looks like it,” Sam responded.

“How did you even know to look for this guy?” Dean asked you.

“Well, Sam’s visions have all been attached to the demon or the other kids—”

“Like Max Miller, remember him?” Sam cut you off.

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho.”

“Well, yeah, but my point is, he was killing people,” you began.

Sam continued, “And I was having the same type of visions about him. And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy.”

Dean asked, “How do we find him?”

You blew air out through your pursed lips. “Don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills; phone, credit, utilities—”

“Collection agency flags?” the older brother questioned.

“None in the system.”

“They just let him take a walk?”

You shrugged. “Seems like it. There's a work address from his last W-2; about a year ago. Let's start there.”

***

You and the brothers stopped at a coffee shop dressed in your “formal attire” to question a girl you knew to be friends with Andrew Gallagher about his whereabouts. 

“You won't get anything out of Andy, guys. I'm sorry, but they never do,” she said.

“ ‘They’?” Sam asked.

She tilted her head in confusion. “You're debt collectors, right? Once in a while they come by. I don't know what Andy says to them, but they never come back.”

“Actually we're- we're lawyers. Representing his Great Aunt Leta. She passed, god rest her soul, and left Andy a sizable estate,” Dean lied. “Are you a friend of his?”

“I used to be, yeah. I don't see much of Andy anymore.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

A man came up behind the bashful woman. “Andy? Andy kicks ass, man.”

“Is that right?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Andy can get you into anything. He even got me backstage at Aerosmith once; it was beautiful, bro.”

The woman turned to him. “How about bussing a table or two, Weber?”

“Yeah. You bet, boss.” The man named Weber turned away.

“Look,” the woman sighed, “if you want to find him, try Orchard Street. Just look for a van with a barbarian queen painted on the side.”

“Barbarian queen?” Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“She's riding a polar bear. It's kind of hard to miss.”

***

She was right. It was incredibly hard to miss. You and the Winchester boys sat in the back of the Impala, having caught sight of the blue van with the aforementioned painted on the side of it from across the street.

“I'm sorry, I'm starting to like this dude. That van is sweet,” Dean grinned. He turned to his brother. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Sam, you look like you're sucking on a lemon, what's going on?”

The brunet sighed. “This Andrew Gallagher, he's the second guy like this we've found, Dean. Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people.”

“We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, alright? He could be innocent,” the older brother argued.

“My visions haven't been wrong yet.”

“Sam, you’re not one of them, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” you said.

“(Y/N), the demon said he had plans for me and children like me,” he replied. “Maybe this is his plan, maybe we're all a bunch of psychic freaks, maybe we're all supposed to be—”

Dean scoffed. “What, killers? So the demon wants you out there killing with your minds, is that it? Come on, give me a break. You're not a murderer, Sam! You don't have it in your bones.”

“No? Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things."

“Sam, that’s different,” you chimed in. “We kill shit that’s already dead. Or… undead. Or… not human— What are you looking at?”

“Got him,” was all Sam replied with. He nodded toward a man walking down the road in a robe, sandals, and baggy pants. The man in question blew a kiss up at a beautiful woman in lingerie leaning out of a window and waving down at him, got a coffee from some random guy he was passing, and then, shook hands with another. 

“That's him. That older guy, that's him, that's the shooter,” Sam rushed out, referencing the man Andy had shaken hands with.

“Alright, you keep on him, we'll stick with Andy. Go.” Sam got out of the car at his older brother’s command.

“We will?” you asked, climbing over the front seat. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Dean followed Andy— who had just climbed into his ostentatious van and began to drive off— closely. 

A few minutes of following the man into a suburban area later, the van stopped in the middle of the road and approached the Impala. You discreetly handed Dean his gun from the glovebox and tucked yours into your jacket.

Andy leaned into the rolled-down window of the Impala. “Hey.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean replied.

“This is a cherry ride,” Andy grinned. “Man, the '67? Impala's best year if you ask me. This is a serious classic.”

“Yeah. Y'know, I just rebuilt her, too.”

“And who’s this gorgeous lady you got next to ya?”

“Oh, I’m (Y/N),” you smiled, suddenly not feeling right.

“Hey, can I have the car? And her, if she’ll let me?” Andy asked you and Dean.

“Sure, man,” Dean grinned, getting out of the car to let the man into the driver’s side.

“Hi, handsome,” you smiled, draping yourself over Andy’s shoulder. You weren’t quite sure what was happening to you, but you knew you weren’t fully in control of what you were doing.

“Take it easy,” Andy told Dean before driving off with you.

“Where ya takin’ me?” you asked him, still mentally horrified by the effect he was having on you. 

“You’ll see,” he grinned, and you settled into his shoulder as he continued to drive.

***

About ten minutes later, the man driving you around received a call that seemed to really upset him. He drove a little faster and parked the car moments later once you’d arrived in front of the café you’d first gone to when you rolled into town.

“Baby? What’s wrong?” you asked, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Uh, I—” he paused, sighing. “Stay here, okay?”

“Okay!” You sat patiently with your hands folded in your lap, waiting for him to come back. You suddenly seemed to realize what you’d been doing and looked around yourself, trying to gain your bearings. You were relieved to see Dean and Sam approaching you. You jumped out of the car and leapt into Dean’s arms. “Dean! What the hell, man, he full-on Obi-Wan-ed us!” You let him go and hugged Sam. “What’s wrong, dude, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“That guy, um, from my visions, he stepped out in front of a bus. Right after he got off the phone,” Sam explained. “We’re thinkin’ Gallagher called him.”

Your brows furrowed and stomach dropped. “Oh.”

“He would’ve had to be on the phone with you in the car,” Dean added. “Was he?”

You shook your head. “No. I mean, not until a second or two before he ditched the car and me in the front seat.”

“Did he… do anything to you?” Sam asked. 

You shook your head.

“A real Samaritan, this guy,” the brunet quipped.

You turned to Dean talking to his car. “Oh, baby, I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

“Do you want a moment alone with her?” you deadpanned to Dean.

“We have a special bond,” he said after a pause. He turned back to his car. “She just doesn’t understand us.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the ends of your lips. “Anyway, he didn’t give any kind of a command over the phone. If anything, he was upset when he answered his phone not ten minutes ago. I don’t think he’s our guy.”

“Either way, how are we going to track this guy down?” Sam asked.

“Not a problem,” Dean smirked.

***

“I’ll give you that, his ride isn’t exactly ‘covert’,” you said upon finding the van again. 

Dean pulled a small crowbar out of his jacket and pried the doors of the van open with it. The opened doors revealed a disco ball, fur rugs, a tiger painted on the wall, several thick books, and an enormous bong.

“Oh. Oh, come on. This is— this is magnificent, that's what this is. Not exactly a serial killer's lair, though. There's no... clown paintings on the walls, or scissors stuck in victims' photos. I like the tiger,” Dean chuckled in awe.

“Dean, he tried to kidnap me. And he kidnapped your car. Can we stay focused, please?” you deadpanned. You looked down at the books. 

Sam picked one up. “Hegel, Kant, Wittgenstein? That's some pretty heavy reading, guys.”

Dean picked up the glass object lying next to them. “Yeah, and, uh, Moby Dick's bong.”

***

Sam and Dean bickered over whether or not they thought Andy was guilty as you zoned out in the backseat. That was, until, the man in question hit the passenger’s side door, startling all three of you.

“Hey! You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?” He asked, his voice reverberating strangely in your ears.

Sam calmly began to explain. “Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed aw—” 

“Tell the truth!” Andy’s voice echoed in your mind.

“We hunt demons,” Dean rushed out.

Andy jerked back in surprise. “What?”

“Dean!” Sam scolded.

“He’s telling the truth,” you jumped in. “That’s Sam. He’s Dean’s brother. I’m (Y/N). I met their dad on a hunt, and, uh, here I am! I follow them everywhere because they’re my best friends and the only real family I’ve ever had, and I’m terrified of losing them, and I followed them to you.”

“(Y/N), shut up!” Sam chastised, turning to face you. 

“I’m trying,” you said.

“He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer,” Dean continued, “and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And, I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right.”

“Okay, you know what? Just leave me alone,” Andy said.

“Okay,” Dean nodded.

Andy walked away from the door, and Sam followed. You and Dean clutched your heads.

“Holy fuck, that hurt,” you groaned.

“Did you really mean that?” Dean asked, clutching the bridge of his nose.

“What, that this hurts?” you scoffed.

“No, about me and Sam.”

“Dude, he made me Professor-Xavier-level spill my guts,” you grumbled. “I couldn’t have lied if I tried.”

Dean gave you a confusing look, but you got out of the car, feeling embarrassed. Sam held up a hand, warning you not to come any closer. You could vaguely hear Andy and Sam arguing about the origins of their powers and the doctor’s death, but all you could focus on was what you’d just admitted.

“(Y/N)—” Dean started.

“No, Dean.” You looked up at him. “We can talk about it one day when this is all over. Just… for now, let’s not.”

He didn’t say anything, but eyed you curiously. Before either of you could say another word to each other, Sam began to collapse to the floor. You and Dean ran to him to catch him and lowered him to the asphalt.

“Sam? What is it?” Dean asked his brother, shaking him.

“Look, I didn't do anything to him—”

“We know you didn’t,” you told Andy.

Sam snapped to attention. “A woman. A woman burning alive. A gas station, a woman is gonna kill herself.”

Andy’s voice rose significantly in pitch. “What does he mean, going to? What is he, what is—”

“Shut up!” you and Dean told Andy.

“She gets triggered by a call on her cell,” Sam continued.

“When?”

“I don't know.” Dean helped his brother stand as he continued talking, “But as long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch, he can't hurt her.”

Andy raised his hands up in surrender. “I didn't hurt anybody.”

“Yeah, not yet,” you said. Your head jerked toward the sound of a fire engine roaring and flashing by you on the highway next to you.

“Go,” Sam told you and Dean. The two of you sprinted to the car and headed off to follow the firetruck.

When you arrived, you were disheartened to see the first responders trying to put out the fire, keep civilians away, and recover the charred body of the woman who had died.

Dean immediately called Sam. “Hey, it's me. She's dead. Burned up, just like you said… Like minutes before I got here! I mean, the smell hasn't even cleared. What's up with your visions, man? This wasn't even a head start… Listen, you were with Andy when this whole thing went down, so it- it can't be him, it's gotta be somebody else doing this… What else is new? Well, we'll dig around here, see what else we can find.”

You and Dean roamed around talking to first responders and bystanders, posing as relatives of the woman who’d died. It was one of the things you felt guilty about in your line of work; posing as relatives of the dead to get information felt disrespectful to you. But alas, you had to, in this case.

You and Dean drove in silence back to the lot where Sam and Andy were talking on the bed of a broken truck as you rolled up. 

“Victim's name was Holly Beckett, forty-one, single,” Dean explained to Sam.

“I called Ash back at the crime scene,” you began. “Said he found a Holly Beckett who gave birth when she was eighteen, back in ‘83. Same day you were born, Andy.”

“Andy, were you adopted?” Sam questioned.

He nodded as if it were obvious. “Well, yeah.”

Dean glared pointedly. “You were? And you neglected to mention that?”

“Never really came up,” Andy deadpanned. “I mean, I, I never knew my birth parents, and, and like you said my adopted mom died when I was a baby— do you, do you think this Holly woman could actually be my m—”

“I don't know,” you explained. “I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only, sealed in the county office.”

Andy smirked. “Well, screw that.”

***

You and the brothers went through the drawers of file cabinets searching for phone records as Andy began leading the guards out of the room.

“Probably shouldn't have left you kids in here,” the guard said.

Andy rubbed a hand over his back. “No, it'll all be fine. Alright? Just go get a cup of coffee.” As the guard left, he continued, saying, “These aren't the 'droids you're looking for.”

You and Dean grinned. “Awesome,” the older brother said.

“I got it,” Sam said. “Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother.”

Andy looked like he’d been punched in the stomach. “Huh. Does anyone have a Vicodin?”

"No Vicodin. Weed, though," you told him, offering him a joint from a pack of pre-rolls in your jacket.

Andy considered but shook his head.

“Dr. Jennings was her doctor, too, I mean, he oversaw the adoption. You have a solid connection to both of them.”

“Yeah, but I— I didn't kill them,” he rushed out.

“We believe you,” Sam told him.

“But uh, who did?” Dean questioned.

“I think I got a pretty good guess,” Sam replied. “Holly Beckett gave birth to twins.”

Andy’s jaw dropped. “I have an evil twin.” He looked to you. "I may take that joint now."

Sam began flipping through another folder of documents. “Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate.”

You looked over at the zoned-out Andy. “You okay? Still with us?”

He shook his head and looked over at you. “Um. What was my brother's name?”

Sam flipped to another page. “Here. Um, Ansen Weems. And he's got a local address.”

“He- He lives here?!”

Dean pushed a few buttons on the computer. “Let's get a look at him. Got his picture coming off from the DMV right now.”

“Dean, you can barely work a toaster. How’d you find his picture from the DMV?” you asked.

He just glared at you in response. You could tell he was messing with you, though.

You pulled the paper off the printer, eyes widening as you recognized the man in the picture. “Hate to kick you while you're freaked,” you said. “Take a look at that.”

When Andy caught sight of his friend from the café Weber looking back at him from the printed off image, his jaw dropped even further in shock.

***

It was a race against the clock to find where Weber had taken Andy’s ex-girlfriend, Tracy— the woman you spoke to at the diner— after Sam had another vision about her jumping off a bridge. Sam’s visions were getting more intense and painful; poor guy. Andy directed Dean to the bridge Sam described from his vision, and the four of you climbed out of the car in unison.

“(Y/N), Dean, you should stay back,” Sam said.

“No argument here. Had my head screwed with enough for one day,” Dean leaned against his car next to you. You watched Andy and Sam head to fend off Weber when you got an idea. “You got a Remington in the trunk? Or an FR F2?”

He smirked at you. “Have you met me?”

***

You and Dean found a spot in the trees far enough away from the scene below to get a clear shot at Weber without being able to hear one of his commands. Dean only had one FR F2, and you convinced him to hand it over to you. You were a damn near perfect shot and could easily take this guy out.

You lined up your shot, smiling smugly when you centered his head on the cross in the middle of the scope. ‘Gotcha,’ you thought. Suddenly, his head turned to you. He said something you couldn’t hear, but it was enough to get you to tuck the barrel of the rifle under your chin.

“(Y/N)! Stop it!” Dean tugged on your arm and managed to wrestle it away from the trigger when another gunshot rang out. As you came back into full control of your body, your breathing labored. You dropped the gun and collapsed backward into Dean’s chest, and his arms circled you as you turned your face into him.

“I got you, I got you,” he assured you as you wound your hands around his neck and buried your face in his chest.

“C’mon, we gotta get Sammy,” Dean said, pulling you down the hill to the bridge with him. 

You found Sam passed out on the floor and sat with Dean while he did his best to wake his brother up. When he did finally awaken, the paramedics had begun to arrive. Andy’s skills were clearly developing given the way he spoke to the police about the incident.

“He shot himself. And you all saw it happen,” he told them. All of the policemen nodded in affirmation.

The paramedics fixed Sam’s shoulder and wrapped a disposable blanket around Tracy’s shoulders. You watched Tracy’s frightened gaze that she couldn’t quite meet Andy’s eyes with. You knew she wouldn’t ever see him the same, and that broke your heart a bit. Andy seemed to understand that, too.

“She won't even look at me,” he noted.

“Yeah, she's pretty shaken up,” Sam gently responded.

“No, it's— this is different. It's, uh, I never— I never used my mind-thing on her before. Before tonight. She's scared of me now.” His face fell as the words left his lips; as if it became real for him.

“Hey, Andy, I hate to do this, but um, we have to get out of here. Here. I wrote down my cell.” Sam handed him a piece of paper with his phone number on it. “You don't have to be alone in this, alright? If anything comes up, just call me up.” 

“Wha- what am I supposed to do now?”

“You be good, Andy. Or we'll be back,” Dean stated firmly.

“Looks like I was right,” Sam said as you walked back to the car with the brothers.

“About what?” Dean questioned.

“Andy. He’s a killer after all,” he responded.

“No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved her life.” Dean pointed to you, his voice becoming firmer.

“Bottom line, he wasted somebody,” Sam argued.

“No, dude,” you jumped in. “He’s not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho, though. He was pushed into that. All of us would’ve died had he not.”

“Weber was pushed too, in his own way. Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death.”

You scoffed. “What’s your point, man?”

“Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. Y'know, maybe that's what the demon's doing. Pushing us. Finding ways to break us,” Sam continued.

You considered Sam’s words. “I agree that everybody’s capable, but—”

Dean cut you off. “Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it.”

“You know, I heard you before, Dean, when Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am.” Sam turned to his brother.

Dean scoffed. “That was mind control! I mean, it's like, like, that's like being roofied, man, that doesn't count.”

“What?”

“No. I'm- I'm calling do-over,” the older brother responded petulantly.

You giggled. “Are you five?”

“Doesn't matter. Look, we've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it,” he told Sam.

The brunet sighed, “Yeah, I guess.”

Dean’s phone rang through the uncomfortable silence. “Hello? Ellen. What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there.”

***

When you arrived at the Roadhouse, Jo eyed Dean wantonly. You were repulsed, but you stomached your jealousy and pushed forward to Ellen. “What’s going on?” you asked her. 

She motioned for you to sit at the bar. You did so, confused. 

“Jo?” Ellen called to her daughter from behind the bar. “Go pull up another case of beer.”

“Mom,” she groaned.

Ellen stared her down. “Now. Please.”

As Jo left, Ellen leaned across the bar in front of you and the boys. “So. You uh, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?”

Dean shook his head. “No. Not really. No offense, it's just kind of a family thing.”

“Not anymore,” she responded. She dropped a stack of papers on the bar in front of you. “I got this stuff from Ash. Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?”

Sam answered before Dean could. “Yeah, we think so.”

“Sam—” Dean scolded.

“Why?” Ellen asked.

You began, “Ellen, you’re lovely and all, but this really isn’t—”

She cut you off. “You mind your tongue with me, girl. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming, and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best, all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here.”

You eyed her warningly as Sam spoke. “There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher, like me. And um... we all have some kind of ability.”

“Ability?” Ellen asked.

Dean rolled his eyes, uncomfortable.

“Yeah. Psychic ability. Me, I have, um, I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's- it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us.”

“What kind of plans?”

“We don't really know for sure.”

“These people out there; these psychics— they dangerous?”

You and Dean jumped in quickly. “No.” Dean finished by saying, “Not all of them.”

Sam eyed his brother. “But some are. Some are very dangerous.”

“Okay, how many of them are we looking at?”

“We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six month birthday,” Dean explained.

“That's not true,” Sam told his brother.

You turned to him, confused.

“Weber? Or Ansen Weems, or whatever his name is— I looked at his files, and there was no house fire. There's nothing out of the ordinary,” he explained.

Ellen took yours and Dean’s shock as an opportunity to rejoin the conversation. “Which breaks pattern. So if there's any others like him, there'd be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down.”

“And so who knows how many of 'em are really out there?” Sam added.

Jo walked up behind you and the boys.

“Jo, honey?” her mom said. “You'd better break out the whiskey instead.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[natailiatulls07]

The golden trio Pt 4

Lando Norris x female!reader

Carlos Sainz x female!reader

Max Verstappen & Female!reader & Charles Leclerc

Summary - Being bestfriends with two famous formula one drivers is never easy, but what will happen when you get involved with yet another formula one driver??

Warnings - talks of hate, slight talks of sex, swearing

The golden trio

-

Going Purple podcast

Text (Orange: Lando) (White: Max F)

Hey mate, can I ask for some advice??

Yo what’s up? You haven’t been jailed for doing something dangerous whilst drunk have you?? 🫣

No not this time lol. So me and Y/n slept together the other night whilst we were drunk and then the next morning she asked me if I remembered…

Oh god no, please tell me you didn’t say what I think you said 😟

I said that I don’t remember and then quickly shut it down. But now I think she feels like she meaningless towards me

Mate you fucked up big time

Ik, her face was so disappointed and upset I could tell immediately even though she tried to hide it 😣

Look Lando, I don’t know how to help you with that one honestly

Yeah I guessed that, it’s fine I’ll figure it out. Just needed to get it off my chest for now though

Good luck mate 👍🏻

yourusername

Wishing on a shooting star for you

Liked by heidiberger_ and 39,036 others

username Who’s ‘you’??

= username Lando maybe, they’ve been getting a bit close

= username Maybe 🤔

username I love that dress 😍

maxverstappen1 Photo creds??

= yourusername 📸📸 by maxverstappen1

username Beautiful girlie

username So are we going to ignore hers and Landos thing rn or what???

charles_leclerc

Since Y/n decided to expose me and Max, we decided to expose her. So here you go, you stitched yourself up Bee 😂

Liked by yourusername and 52,843 others

username The first picture 🥹

username Is that high school golden trio??

= username I think it is, they look so young ☺️

yourusername I was expecting this lol

= charles_leclerc Just wait until you see Max’s post 🫢

= maxverstappen1 Hehehe 😏

username Y/n with her pink eye mask is the cutest thing ever!!

maxverstappen1

Part two of pay back expose Y/n!!

Liked by charles_leclerc and 56,367 others

username That vanity is the definition of girl messy and it’s just amazing!!

username I love the whole dynamic of this trio 🤩

yourusername When did you take a photo of my vanity??

= maxverstappen1 When you went out to the club with yourfriendsusername 😂

= charles_leclerc how does it get so messy? Like wtf

username I’ve just realised that Y/n is actually very relatable ngl

Twitter

username Guys so I ran into Y/n L/n today and she is like the sweetest person ever 🥹

username No way, I feel so bad that she had to go through all that hate whilst being so sweet and kind 😕

username So I was chatting to her and I asked her about her friendship with Max and Charles and she said “Me, Maxy and Charlie are like siblings. Sometimes they’re like protective older brothers or then annoying little brothers”

username That’s so cute!!

username I know right!! Anyways I asked about her and Lando and she was like “To be honest with you, I don’t know what’s going on there so yeah”

username Oh Noooo!! My ship!! 😔

username She looked so devastated and defeated when she said it though, that’s what got me 🥺

username I hope it works out, they’re the cutest ship EVER 😭

-

Tag list: @eviethetheatrefreak @janeholt3 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @namelesssav @amalialeclerc

[starlightazriel]

bee 4

desc: (fem reader) modern au best friends to lovers, roommate az, angsty + smutty, multiple parts

warnings: 18+, drug/alcohol abuse, angst, az being slightly violent/dark/dominating and self destructive, TOXIC MASCULINITY, girls kissing girls, adolescent fluff, reader is insecure, very light public smut, az being a hoe (I know it hurts me too)

a/n: awwww snap

wc: 3.8k

other parts can be found on my azriel masterlist

four

"Im sure you just misheard him Kat for the millionth time," I sighed heavily, peering at my reflection in Kats mirror. The past few weeks had consisted of relentless torture. First was the torture of being almost uncontrollably horny for Azriel every single waking moment of the day. Second was the torture of him not really being around since he had tattooed me. And third was the torture of Kat not leaving me alone about Azriel apparently saying that I was his when Riley and him were arguing about who was going to do my tattoo.

Az was busy. With the anniversary of the shop coming up next week and Rhys selecting him to represent the shop for the upcoming tattoo event where he would compete with the other artists around the area... He just wasnt home. I would see him quickly in the morning, we would do that thing that we did where I would try my best not to stare at his morning wood, he would smirk and give me a friendly hug goodbye that would linger for too long. And then I would watch him leave out the door.

"I didnt mishear him y/n! He said it, and he meant it! He wants you," Kat urged as she looks at both of our reflections in the mirror, she fixed my dress, smiling proudly at me. "Rhys and I talked about it, everyone can see this shit except for you," her matter of fact tone had me whirling.

"Kat what? You can't talk to his friends about this," I winced slightly, thinking about what that conversation could have looked like.

"Rhys is my friend too, you know?" She rolled her eyes at me, reaching up to fix a piece of my hair, I swatted her away. "Rhys thinks Az just cares about you, and hes not used to fucking people that he cares about so obviously Bee its going to scare him. You know what hes been through and...You two are obviously in love with each other, anyone with eyes can see that,"

"You guys need to stop talking about us behind our backs," I mumbled quietly, but her words stuck with me. The fact that Rhys had said that had to mean something, he knew Az as well as me... Maybe certain dark parts of Az better than me. "Hes not in love with me."

Of course I knew Azriel cared about me, he always had, but it had always been platonic. It made sense, of course he would be scared of leaving our comfort zone, the one place for both of us since we'd met that we could be ourselves that we didnt have to pretend or put on a show for anyone else. We had been each others safe space for years, and it wasnt like I wasnt afraid either... I was mostly just in denial after loving him for years, pining after him, watching him with gorgeous incomparable older girls and then women when we grew up. It was completely unbelievable for me to think that Azriel was actually looking at me as anything more than just the girl that moved in next store that would never leave his side.

"So then do what I say tonight and then if nothing happens I'll shut up and leave both of you alone about it for the rest of your lives!" Kat had not shut up about her plan for me to seduce Azriel and then make him so jealous that he would fly into my arms tonight while we were all out celebrating the upcoming anniversary and Azriels portfolio making the top ten best tattoo artists in the area for the event they were doing.

"Im not just going to seduce him Kat," I said the word like it was dirty as I stared back at my pathetic reflection in the mirror. I wanted to change out of the ridiculously tiny dress that she had me in. "If it happens between us I want it to be natural, I don't want to force anything," I sighed softly, repeating what I had been saying for days just in different words.

"You won't be forcing anything. It's called making the first move! Strong women have been doing it for decades," she giggled softly and I rolled my eyes at her again, giving her a look before looking back at my reflection.

"I don't even look like myself," I complained quietly, staring at myself in the mirror. The dress was tiny, she had lined my lips and put gloss on them, some fake eyelashes, blush, contour. "I look like a damn clown Kat," I grimaced wondering what Azriel would even think when he saw me. I never wore anything more than lip gloss and mascara, I felt completely ridiculous, and I also didn't know how I was going to walk in the heels she had given me.

"The sexiest clown I've ever seen," she giggled in response and hooked her arm into mine, pulling me away from the mirror.

-

When my eyes landed on Azriel at the bar my stomach churned. Dressed to impress. He wore black jeans, a black vintage looking button up t shirt with the first few buttons undone, his chains hanging on his chest, his rings on his fingers... When he wanted to he knew how to look good, and he looked so damn good. Not that he ver didnt look good but you could always tell when he really made an effort. Fresh line up, his black slightly wavy hair falling over his forehead, his delicious jaw, perfectly golden brown skin with tattoos everywhere. My lips parted, noticing a new one curling up the side of his neck. I wanted to kiss it. I wondered when he got it and turned to ask Kat but she was already talking to some guy.

I pursed my lips, my eyes drifting back to Azriel, our eyes locked as he had been looking at me already, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. He watched me curiously, and I bit my lip, feeling naked under his gaze like usual. "See he's already looking," Kat interrupted, her voice sounding slightly giddy. "Let's grab some drinks!" She tugs me along toward the bar, toward Azriel, but we end up on the opposite side of the bar, his brows are drawn together slightly as he watches us. Rhys and Cass were next to him, they could be heard across the bar yelling loudly about some bet that they had made between each other, Az was quiet as usual though, and he was watching me.

I wanted nothing more than to go say hello after having barely seen him, but Kat had told me that it was very important that I let him approach me first tonight, even if I'd be making the first move. I was only going along with her dumb plan so she would see how dumb it actually was and finally leave me alone about Azriel. Kat ordered us chilled tequila shots for the first round and we clinked our glasses together. "It's crazy not to go say hi to him, I've never done that before," I say to Kat, my eyes still landing on Azriel every few minutes, I couldn't help it.

My mouth went dry when I looked again and he was talking to someone now, a woman, he glanced back at me again but then quickly back to the woman in front of him. She looked gorgeous from what I could tell, even though her back was facing me, a pang of jealousy hit my gut. This is so stupid.

"I promise its going to be fine," she laughed before waving over some of her other friends she introduced me to her friends Lily and Lylah, they were twins, almost identical, gorgeous... But I couldn't seem to focus on any conversation they were having, I was too busy being distracted by Azriel who was still speaking to the random woman across the bar. He didnt look particularly interested, but he smiled at her and my gut wrenched.

Shot after shot and I was getting anxious I knew it wasnt horribly out of the ordinary for Kat and I to be off on our own when we were out, she had always told me we'd never bag anyone if the boys were looming over our shoulders. Usually we at least said hi though.

"Dance with me for a little!" Kat giggled, her words slurred from all the tequila shots we had been doing.

"Kat you know I don't-" I tried to protest but she was already dragging me into the throng of bodies surrounded by the DJ's station. "Our friendship is starting to feel like a lot of you dragging me into anything," I shout over the music dramatically, but I couldn't help but smile as I kept my eyes on Kat, trying to pretend it was just her and I in her living room.

"There you goooo y/n," Kat laughs softly pulling me closer to her, I just laugh and shake my head, thankful for all the liquor in my system giving me the courage to dance with her. I glanced back at Azriel, there was no way I was forgetting he was there, especially since he was talking to someone.

"Doesn't seem like its wor-" I started to say but Im interrupted by Kats lips on mine. "Kat what are you-" I tried to say but she's kissing me, her arms are still around me, one of her hands finding my hair. I couldn't help it as I kissed her back, her lips were so soft, and she tasted like strawberry lip gloss.

"I had to," she laughed casually as she pulled away, her fingers pulling from my hair.

"You're crazy," I laughed, my heart still racing the tiniest bit from the surprise of her kiss. The rush. I glanced back at Azriel, who wasnt even looking at the woman speaking to him, his eyes were fixed on me, brows drawn slightly together.

"Only a little bit, you look too damn good tonight not to get a kiss, even if it isn't the kiss you deserve I had to give you a little sugar," she giggled again, her words slurring slightly as she looked at me with hazy eyes.

"Good thing I have you," I said and laughed, spinning her around on the dance floor even though it definitely wasnt the song for it.

"May I?" the scent of his cologne fills my nostrils and my eyes lift to meet gorgeous amber colored ones.

"May you..?" I stuttered slightly blinking up at him, tall, clean cut, red hair, pale skin, piercing eyes and devilishly handsome. His clothing and jewelry looked like it would cost me a years worth of shifts at the bar. Kat drops her jaw at me behind his back in approval, her eyebrows drawing together before she quickly said she was going to get us drinks and she wouldn't be far, the man didnt even bat an eye or look at her for that matter.

"Dance with you? Buy you a drink? Kiss you the way your friend just did?" He asks, his voice smooth and seductive, I almost would have fell for it if it wasnt for his cockiness.

"You're just assuming that she's not my girlfriend," I retorted, arrogance emanated from him... But it was kind of sexy. He was way, way out of my league though.

"Oh?" He cocked his head to the side, his eyes twinkling with amusement, he obviously liked this game. "She's your girlfriend? Then why did she leave you here?"

I opened my mouth to say something but closed it quickly because I couldn't think of anything to say. My eyes met with Azriels, he was gripping the glass in his hand tightly, his jaw clenched as he glanced between me and whoever the man in front of me was.

-

"Is there something more interesting behind me?" the annoying voice asked, Azriel couldn't even remember her name even though she had given it to him maybe twenty minutes ago? He didnt even know how long it had been that she had been here pestering him, however long it was too long.

"Everything behind you is more interesting," he muttered, his eyes only flicking to hers for a second before back to Bee and Eris, the fuck was he even doing here anyway? Azriel already knew the answer to that though, he was sniffing out all the dumbasses with empty pockets he could find to run his product around the city. Azriel only knew this because Eris was his dealer.

"Asshole," the woman whirled on her heels and stormed away but Azriel didnt even bother to look at her again. The fuck did Eris want with Bee. Probably that fucking dress she was wearing. What had Kat even been thinking? Dressing her up and parading her around like some kind of toy, kissing her. His throat felt so dry and his blood felt so hot. The liquor coursing through his veins mixed with the lines he had done in the bathroom earlier were only enhancing his anger. A small bead of sweat formed on his temple and before he could stop himself he was up, the barstool he had been sitting on nearly tipping over at his carelessness. Azriel pushed past the crowd his face feeling hot and red, his eyes narrowed, focusing on Bee as she smirked up at Eris.

"Fuck you doing?" were the only words that left Azriels mouth as he grabbed Bee by her arm and yanked her hard. She squeaked out his name in surprise and protest stumbling backward and almost falling but he made sure that she didnt.

"Azriel?" Eris speaks, his eyebrows drawing together as he watched Azriel manhandle her.

"She's good, Im good," his voice is almost a growl as she struggles to get out of his strong grip but hes tugging her toward the back door.

-

"Az what the fuck are you doing?!" I cry out softly the cool night breeze kissing my skin as he pulled me out of the door to the club. I was stumbling behind him, tripping over my heels, my arm was aching at his intense grip, my heart pounding in my chest. Great fucking idea Kat.

"No, Bee, what the fuck are you doing?" He whirls, pushing me back and my body hits the wall on alleyway to the club, my head smacking gently against the cool brick. Azriel wraps his hand around my throat, gently squeezing, my lips part in surprise, my toes curling involuntarily.

"Azriel, ow, fuck," my head was spinning, a mixture of shock from Azriels behavior and all of the liquor in my system.

"What the fuck are you doing Bee?" He repeats, his eyes boring in to mine, his hazel eyes were dark, blank except for rage, his breathing was heavy, chest rising and falling quickly. "When did you start letting Kat dress you up like a fucking slut?" he presses, his fingers tightening around my throat, my heart is pounding, my pussy throbbing and leaking in my panties as I stared up at him. "Who the fuck even are you? You can't even say hi to me? Kissing Kat like a fucking whore on the dance floor, batting your fucking eyelashes and smiling at Eris like youre fucking easy, hes my fucking coke dealer Bee, are you that naive?" he was so close, I could feel his breath on my skin, smell all the fucking liquor he had drank. I was stunned, Azriel had never spoken to me like this. Never put his hands on me in this rough... Claiming way. I was reeling, my nipples ached as our chests brushed with each breath we took.

"Az, I-" I breathed, my eyes flicking down to his lips, back up to his eyes. I knew I should be angry at him, I knew I should push him away and yell at him for the way he had treated me. But I couldn't, I could never push him away, and there was some part of me that liked every second of it. I needed more.

"Im going fucking crazy," he breathed out, almost as if he was realizing where we were, who I was. His fingers loosened around my throat and I didnt hesitate, I kissed him. My entire body melted, leaning into him, embracing him as his hand moved from my throat and into the back of my hair, tightening and tugging there. I moaned as his arm snaked around my waist, pulling our bodies flush, I could feel his hard cock pressing through his pants. I whimpered softly as he slid his tongue into my mouth, the way he kissed me was so needy and feral.

My head was spinning, I couldn't believe it was finally happening. He was kissing me, touching me. His hands were everywhere now, desperately trying to get to know my body, I moaned again, tipping my head back as he slid his fingers under my dress and over my soaking wet panties. He cursed quietly under his breath, his lips moving over my neck, sucking gently as he rubbed me through my underwear. I moaned, rocking my hips back and forth against his fingers until I was coming completely undone in my panties. I gasped softly as Azriel pulled away, confusion covering my face, feeling almost empty with out him there, against me. Like he had ripped warmth itself away from me.

"Az why did you sto-" I can't finish my sentence because I notice his face, my cheeks heat with embarrassment.

"Bee youre too drunk, Im drunk.. I shouldn't have put my hands- We just can't do this-" Azriel struggled for words, I felt tears sting at my eyes. His throat bobbed, his eyes becoming so distant. I hadn't seen that look in a while.

"Az-" I tried again but he just shook his head, his jaw flexing nervously.

"Im sorry Bee. Go back inside," his eyes are guarded, hes lighting a cigarette now, looking anywhere but me. I opened my mouth to say something but he turns and walks away, leaving me feeling humiliated in the alley way. I turned, and practically ran back inside, tears rolling down my cheeks as I tried to find Kat I had to leave, now.

-

Azriel nearly stumbled out of the car, his current double vision not doing anything to help his balance. He hadn't wanted to fuck anyone else besides Bee since he'd walked in on her in his room. He was realizing now, that he couldn't do that. He cared about her too much, so much that he had hurt her.

Even if she wanted to. Even if she was doing all this dumb little shit to get his attention, he couldn't allow it. He put his hands on her, he had hurt her. And what had she done? She kissed him. Because she saw him, she knew that wasnt really him. She knew the real him before all the drugs before all the mindless sex and the ego boost he had gained from tattooing. It scared the absolute shit out of him. He knew he would have to change for her, he knew accepting the way he felt would make him want to change. He couldn't believe weeks ago he had been thinking about actually fucking her. His kiss with Bee was replaying over and over in his head, how could he stay away knowing what it felt like to kiss her but still not knowing what her pussy tasted like?

His thoughts had him walking more swiftly to the door and he stopped, rubbing his face to try and compose himself and not seem too blasted out of his mind. He rang the door bell and waited for only a few moments before Cecille appeared before it, her wrapped up in a bonnet for sleep, a matching silk robe draping over her naked body.

"Azriel?" she asks, her voice cool and disinterested but her eyes lit up. "I told you never to come without calling, my husband could be here," she tilts her head, looking down her nose at him.

"Is he?" he asked, his eyes settling on her breasts, he couldn't help but compare them to Bee. It made his ears hot.

"No," she responds, a smile tugging at her lips, the wrinkles by her eyes becoming more pronounced. He invites himself in then, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it.

"So get on your knees," he commanded, resting his hands on her shoulders and coaxing her down to the floor.

Azriel watched boredly as she sucked him off, his fingers gripping her hair and pushing her deeper onto him, watching her choke and gag. Normally this would have made him feel better, it would have made him forget whatever he was worried about.

Nothing... Not even this could get his mind off of Bee.

-

"Az we need to do something," her eyes welled up with tears, she hugged her body, peering at him as they sat on the hill next to the school.

"I told you Im fine, there's nothing to do Bee," Azriel shrugs, ripping up pieces of grass, tossing them in front of them.

"There has to be something," she raises her voice, staring at him, she was angry and she didnt understand how he wasnt. His lip was fat and bloody his nose bruised and swollen but it was nothing compared to the giant bruise that covered his ribcage. "We can talk to the principal and they can help us with the police-"

"No cops Bee," he cuts her off, his tone somber and serious, but his eyes softened at the sight of her. It warmed something deep inside of him to know that someone cared about him. Actually wanted to help him. "I'll end up in foster care, it's worse. Ive been there," he adds, sighing quietly and rising to his feet.

"I just hate this Az, I hate seeing you hurt. I hate that they can just do that to you and nothing ever happens to them," she looks up at him, her knees hugged to her chest. He winces slightly at the sight of her crying, he hated that.

"Im seriously fine, Im used to it," he shakes his head, holding his hand out to help her up, she doesn't budge. "I can't go into foster care because then I'll never see my best friend Bee again," he tries again, smiling down at her, he needed her to stop crying, it bothered him so much.

"You shouldn't be used to it, and we would find a way to stay in contact," she argues, her eyebrows drawing together as she looks up at him in frustration.

"No cops Bee," he repeats, and she sighs in defeat, looking away from him. His hand is still extended to her, waiting. "Come on. Cheer up," he urges, sighing heavily. "Ice cream?" she finally turns to look back up at him and reluctantly takes his hand with tearstained cheeks.

"Fine, not today Az, but some day we are doing something."

-

a/n: </3

comment if you'd like to be tagged in the next part *** very quickly stoned proof READ ILL GET TO IT fr LMK IF YOU SEE MISTAKES

@smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! So, in G1, there is an episode where four Autobots ended up briefly turning into humans, called Only Humans. That episode was fun, but sadly, there were too much actions and not enough bots experiencing common phenomenons of a human body, which would have been SO fun! So may I request a similar scenario with TFP Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bee, and Bulkhead? But this time the times where they stayed humans were longer than that G1 episode, and during the time these guys got to experience all kinds of human body experiences like hiccups, goosebumps, throwing up, falling inside of their sleep, strung by mosquitoes, and maybe even a cold, so on and so on. And tbh I just want to know who do you think would be the ones to freak out ant goosebumps (think that bugs are crawling under them) and who would be the one to think that a 39 Celsius fever + a nasty throw up is probably normal for human body and no cause for concern? And to make this funnier I ask for a random unlucky Autobot to actually got to suffer from motion sickness (ironic, since they used to be cars themselves, and now they can’t even ride anymore without feeling like dying), and another to be truck by a tough cold/flu and had to suffer through unfamiliar symptoms like coughing, sneezing, chills, and stomach aches, and another to find out they have nasty allergies of a random kind and effect (these can all be more than one if you are feeling evil)

but of course the three kids are there to help them through this tough time— not without occasionally making fun of them a bit tho.

you can do this either in a story telling form, where you write out a whole entire story chapter, or the bullet point list regarding how different the reactions of everyone would be.

YEEEE! This request was fun to do! The bots are going to get the 'whole' human experience.

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy and the Kids helping turned humans Ratchet, Optimus Prime, Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead

SFW, Platonic, mentions of puke, Human reader

TFP

Relic accident. Enough said.

The relic, as it turned out, had the capability to turn anything of Cybertronain origin into the organic version of it depending on the planet it was on.

That was how the charges found their guardians on the floor looking dazed and confused.

Thank goodness they had clothes on.

After further inspection from Wheeljack, they all got the news.

The good news this was all temporary, they would turn back when the effects wore off.

The bad news was that this was going to last for entire week.

Which shouldn’t have been a problem… if some of them didn’t get sick.

Oh joy…

Ratchet

The Cold.

Ratchet was fine for the first day, though he was constantly complaining about the work that still needed to be done.

It was the next day that the symptoms came up.

Buddy and Raf are the only ones who manage to convince him to lay down and rest.

“Please Ratchet, your sick and need rest.”--Buddy

Ratchet trying to pass Buddy but Raf steps in front of him.

“Do it Raf!���--Buddy

“Do—cough—what?”--Ratchet

Puppy Dog Eyes activated.

“Please?”--Raf

“… fine.”--Ratchet

Buddy high-hives Raf before helping him back to his bed.

His immune system was new to its surroundings, easier for illness to sit in.

Worse that he was older than the other as well.

He was much more vulnerable to catch simple things.

Most of the bots and recently turned humans are worried about Ratchet’s health when he started sleeping more. But June and the others reassure them that Ratchet’s going to be fine.

Ratchet wants to work, but the kids and Buddy don’t let him.

Jack and Buddy oversee Ratchet’s temperature and basic medical supplies.

Buddy does their best to explain to him what is happening to his body, for reassurance.

Miko plays him classical music for once.

Blame it on the pitiful sick look on his face.

He expected some loud rock music but found it surprising when Miko began playing the keyboard softly.

Its an almost foolproof way to get him to sleep fast.

Raf sat by him telling him stories and helping him eat his food.

This wasn’t his best experience, but he certainly has much more respect on human biology and for the kids now.

Ratchet now has a mini human well-care kit in his habsuite.

Optimus Prime

The Hiccups.

Optimus was just trying some of the different waters the kids had been recommending.

“And what is this one?”--Optimus

Optimus already starting to drink.

“Sparkling water.”--Buddy

Optimus stops and looks at the water horrified.

“Why are you looking at it—OH! Wait Optimus its not ‘sparkling’s’ water is a type of water with minerals!”--Buddy

Optimus puts the water down but swallows the water in his mouth.

“Human’s drink minerals? As in the deposits?”--Optimus

“… I’m not explaining this one. Raf! Your turn!”--Buddy

Then they heard the sound.

Optimus was surprised to hear it.

Then he made it again.

He looks a bit disturbed.

He wasn’t voluntarily making the noise it was just coming out of him just like that.

Jack and Miko try to explain what hiccups are.

He gets a bit more disturbed yet intrigued.

This wouldn’t be so bad… if that noise would stop trying to interrupt him from talking and making his chest go bump!

Raf suggests ways to get rid of them.

They all go through the list until they reach the last one.

Scaring him.

They knew it was going to be a tough one, Prime wasn’t scared easily.

But Buddy had an idea.

A very dumb idea.

Optimus was talking to Jack when he noticed Buddy leaning on the railing.

He was a bit on edge seeing them so casual near the ledge.

They sat on top of it.

Then began tittering backwards until half of their body went to the other side.

Optimus is running to Buddy’s side trying to stop them from falling backwards.

Buddy just hung from their ankles looking up at him with a smug smile.

No more hiccups.

Problem solved.

He does try and scold Buddy for the recklessness… but he is also glad the hiccups are gone.

When Optimus turns back to normal, he insists to Agent Fowler to have better rails in the base.

Arcee

The Mosquito bites.

Oh, Jack had warned her about these little guys.

And now she knew why the kids were complaining about.

She wanted to eradicate every single one.

Arcee trying to squash some of the mosquitos with her hands.

“Why!”-Arcee

SMACK!

“Won’t!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“These!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“Things!”--Arcee

SMACK!

“Die!”--Arcee

SMACK!

SMACK!

Buddy and Jack already dosed with repellent.

“Felt that.”--Buddy

“Yep.”--Jack

The two humans fist bump while watching Arcee fail to smack another mosquito.

With some heavy rain, some had managed to get into the base. There weren’t many, maybe four, but they were enough to leave Arcee’s arms and legs littered with little bites.

The kids did get bitten too, but not as much as she did.

Arcee did try to use the repellent, it didn’t do anything for her.

Buddy and Miko help put anti itching cream on her, but she wants to scratch them all so bad.

When she thought they weren’t looking she would begin to scratch furiously.

Arcee didn’t know that her skin would show that she had scratched. She freaked out a bit when she scratched a bit too hard on one and it started bleeding.

Raf and Jack clean and disinfect the scratch which welcomes her to the pain of antibacterial spray.

She swears that it was the most painful thing she had to endure yet.

Raf decided to decorate the little scratches with band aids so she would scratch them.

When Arcee turns back to her normal self, she is relieved.

She has much more respect for the things humans have to do daily.

Will never tell Jack to suck it up when he has a mosquito bite again.

Bumblebee

The Motion sickness.

Oh, the Irony.

Bumblebee was a fast muscle car before!

He shouldn’t get sick when going over 15 miles per hour!

Now he was getting queasy in riding with Smokescreen and Buddy.

He feels awful.

Sweaty

Clammy hands

And something feels like something is trying to crawl out of his throat.

Bumblebee looking a bit pale as Smokescreen makes another sharp turn.

Buddy looks at Bee.

“Hey Smokes, you mind rolling the windows down a bit?”--Buddy

“Why?”--Smokescreen

Bumblebee groaning.

“Unless you want to see what the inside of a humans stomach holds, I suggest you open up the windows.”--Buddy

Windows immediately roll down.

Bee sighs with a bit of relief as the wind rolls past his face calming his stomach.

At first the two thought it was Smokescreen crazy driving that was making him sick.

But that wasn’t the case.

Buddy Bee and Raf were inside Ultra Magnus and he got queasy there too.

Magnus was one of the safest and slowest drivers on the team.

It was just him.

Bumblebee refused to leave the base after they came back.

He’d rather hang out with the kids on the couch and play games with them than go outside in another vehicle.

When Bumblebee returns to normal, he is so thankful the queasiness didn’t follow him.

He is now much more attentive to the kids when he is driving now.

His subspaces now have barf bags, just in case.

Bulkhead

Throwing Up.

All Bulkhead wanted to do was have the full human experience with Miko.

He went with her to a monster truck rally that Buddy had managed to get tickets to.

“Wow! I can’t believe you got us ticket to the rally!”--Miko

“Me neither!”--Bulkhead

“No problem, guys, just enjoy yourselves.”

“I mean I tried booking these babies in advance, but everything was booked or too expensive. How did you get the tickets?”--Miko

Buddy simply starts drinking their soda.

“Buddy?”--Bulkhead

“What you don’t know, don’t hurt.”--Buddy

“What?”--Bulkhead

“What?”--Buddy

The trio bought all sorts of junk food and sodas.

He found himself enjoying the time at the rally.

Everything was good.

Until he got back to base.

He suddenly became pale and sweaty.

The next thing Bulkhead knew, he was staring at a trash can with a bunch of mushy stuff with Buddy and Miko on either side of him.

Buddy had some of the mushy stuff on their arms, while Miko was rubbing his back gently.

The mushy stuff did stink a lot.

He felt something come out of his mouth and spew it into the bin, once again getting it on Buddy’s arms.

Bulkhead tried to apologize but it was hard to catch his breath.

Turns out a whole lot of junk food and soda was not good for you after all.

No matter how good it tasted before.

He doesn’t want to touch food while he is like this.

The kids try introducing him to lighter foods so he can at least eat something while his stomach recovers.

He likes the different kinds of broth they bring in.

When Bulkhead returns to normal, he asks Miko to stash barf bags in his interior.

He wants to have them just in case the kids need them.

Has so much more respect for them.

Will slap someone in the head if they mention to the kids to get it over with while their stomach is not feeling good.

[factual-fantasy]

30 Asks! Thank you!! :}} 🌊

😅Ah, well this is awkward-

I haven't drawn Gravity Falls in quite a while. And with this sudden fandom resurgence following the book of Bill.. I actually went back and privated a huge chunk of my Gravity falls posts. :x

My reasoning for this is that looking back, a lot of those old posts are rather embarrassing for me 💀 now I respected them all as stepping stones to where my blog is now so I didn't actually DELETE any posts!! But now with the fandom coming back people are finding them aaaannddd.. when ever I get a notification of someone liking an old cringey Gravity Falls post of mine? I just go beet red. uhhg they're sooooo embrassingggg...

SO! For my own comfort, I privated lot of those embarrassing posts. I didn't delete them in case I change my mind and want them back in the future- but they should all be hidden.

Now that that's explained, the comic you're talking about is likely one that I privated parts of out of embarrassment. But if you happen to have a link to one of the parts or can remember the what the comic was about... mayyyybe I could go back and un-pivate it.? <XD But just that comic! It depends on how beet red I turn when I see it-- :x

I've heard of cult of the lamb, seen a lot of fanart for it- and several of my friends play it!... But I still don't know much about it <XD Isn't it like a cult simulator or something..? Idk-- the cult imagery just didn't really feel like my thing 😅

XDDD THANKY IU SO MUCH!! :)))))

@i-v-y67 (Hiding the image because its not my art! <:D )

Sorry man, <XD Maybe someday I will! But for now I got Welcome home, FNAF and Pokémon on the mind 💀

DUDE I LOOOOOVE THE AMAZING WORLD OF GUMBALL!! That show has absolutely no right to be that funny XDDD

XDD Aw, thank you! Truly the highest compliment my version of Wally could receive. 😌

Idk how Bibi's name is actually supposed to be pronounced.. but I personally pronounce it as "bee-bee" <XD

And for his little sister Cici, its the same. "see-see"

While I'm at it, Gerald's name is pronounced "erald". The G is silent XDD

Aw man.. Ingo couldn't cope.. 😔😔

No that's not me saying that Emmet loved Ingo less or was emotionally stronger than him- but Emmet sees Ingo as his strong and capable older brother. With some comfort from Elesa, he believed at his core that Ingo could handle what ever he was facing out there.. although his body was wracked with worry..

If the roles were reversed.. I mean.. man..

Ingo sees Emmet as his precious baby brother. Despite them being only minutes apart in age. He knows logically that Emmet is just as strong and capable as he is.. but just imaging his baby brother out there.. wounded and all alone.. he should have been there. he should have done more. He's all alone. What if he never sees him again? What if he dies alone out there?

The separation would quite possibly destroy Ingo..

@anikakitty11

Boop!! :DDD

@cat7890

I'm feeling pretty rough, but doing my best to rest! <:D and thank you!! :)))

@katjustvibinglmao

XDD EGGDOG!!

I don't have many clear ideas for Home yet.. I'm thinking that its pretty sentient. Home can problem solve, make assumptions and learn..

What does it think of everything... I'm not quite sure. I imagine Home to be curious though, and that's why it watches Wally sleep and why it watched Eddie at the Christmas party..

I also pictured Home to have been in an almost coma/zombie like state back when it was dilapidated.. but then I wonder if Poppy would still be spooked by it.. hmm..

It couldn't have been comfortable in that state at least. So when Wally fixed it up, maybe Home was grateful? Or maybe Home is just kind'a coming to and doesn't know how to feel about the neighborhood springing up around it.. overall I kind'a want to keep these general malicious undertones to Home... 👀

Yeah, I didn't have them crushing on each other because I don't like writing romance stuff for characters that are not my own.. <XD

But this doesn't mean that Eddie and Frank cant have a strong platonic bond in my au! :0 One thing I imagined for their friendship is how they met/how it started.

I had this picture in my head that Frank used to butt-heads with the other neighbors a lot more than he does now. Frank had a certain way of talking and expressing himself that some of the other neighbors didn't really understand.. and since Frank can be irritable at times.. well.. I guess the best way to put it is that Frank had a hard time making friends at first..

I imagined that on a particularly bad day, where nothing seemed to be going his way.. Frank was huffing and puffing and just grumbling to himself.. attending to some chores around the house and just overall feeling down. At some point, he realized the package he ordered should be here any second now.. so he stepped outside to check the mail.

When he went outside, whaddya know! The new mailman was here right on time and putting his package in the mailbox. Well FINALLY something went right for him! That's a nice change..

I imagined Frank went out in a huff to grab the mail, not intending to chat.. but 10 minutes later and he was still stood outside talking to the new mailman.

I thought that when Frank spoke to Eddie, Eddie listened intently and waited patiently for his turn to talk without interrupting. When Eddie talked to Frank, he basically asked all the perfect questions in the perfect tone to get Frank to simmer down.

Eddie told him how beautiful his garden looked, and with his tone and bright smile, you could tell he meant it! Well that's a nice thing to say..

Frank asked how he feels about the neighborhood. And Eddies responses were relatively quick and to the point. Huh.. its nice to have no filler in this conversation considering how grumpy he was today..

Eddie makes a comment about Franks nice clothes, Frank chuckles and comments that his grumpy expression probably doesn't make them look any nicer.. Eddie is a little taken aback, "I didn't think you looked grumpy.. I'm sorry to hear you're feeling down today neighbor.." Huh.. someone who doesn't just see his frown and assume he's a grump. That's a really nice change..

By the end of their conversation, Franks day had been completely flipped on its head. He had a nice chat with the new neighbor and got his mail right on time. Eddie was respectful, interested in what Frank had to say, and had plenty of genuine compliments to spare.

Since that excellent first impression on Eddie's part, their friendship would grow and grow into what it is today. Not a romantic relationship, but definitely a best friend situation for sure. :)

@viennaarttt

A phone call? :0 Is this one I talked about happening in my at some point and forgot or was this something that happened in canon? <:0 Forgive my poor memory- today is not my day! 😅😅

WAAAAGGHH WAAAA THIS IS SO SWEETTJJA WAHAGHAGGG CANONCANONCANONCANON!!! 😭😭🥺😭💞💞💞💞

@glitchhayden418

AWWWEE!! the little babeee.... 🥺🥺💞💞💞💞

(In response to this post)

Thank you! These past few days have been pretty rough but I'm hangin in there! <:D ...

ALSDO WAAAARRHRHHHAAAA!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! THATS SO SWEEETTT RAAAHGGAA!!! 😭😭🥺💞🥺💞💞💞💞

Man I really gotta work on the story/personalities for Julies siblings <XD These ideas for them are just wonderful! Him meeting Julies brother/sisters sounds like a fun drawing idea!

B-But.. with no return address... how am I supposed to send a thank you..? <:'(((

@holly-opal

It is one of my all time favorite shows.. 🥺🥺💞💞💞 I love it to bits. Stanley is my favorite character.. I watched it like twice and I would have watched it a third time but I couldn't watch it without crying so I had to quit <XDD 100/10 would recommend Gravity Falls.💞💞

(Jangles birthday post)

Ahh don't worry, his birthday was actually on the 6th. I was late too! <XD

Also thank you! I'm glad you like the details I added! :)))))

😔😔😔Man, it never ends. Thanks for letting me know though..

I kind'a pictured it being similar to Sans and Papyrus. Well, if Papyrus loved puns that is- XDDD

Their personalities are kind'a opposite. Barnaby is relaxed, laid back and always cracking jokes. Howdy is always on the move (in the warmer months). Always darting from shelf, gotta stock stock stock! Gotta go go go! Got so many things to do!

Barnaby usually hangs out in the shop and chats with Howdy. They like to talk about life, their opinions on different topics. And of course exchange jokes back and fourth XDD

I imagine their friendship is strong enough that they've opened up about some darker things. About their pasts and what not..

Sorry if this wasn't super descriptive and/or didn't answer your question 😅 brain is not braining today!

She's thought about telling someone else. The people she would trust the most would probably be Wally, Barnaby, Poppy and Sally.

Though she's afraid if she shows Wally, he'll be afraid of her. Just like all the other humans were...

She thought about telling Barnaby because he's so laid back and easy going.. perhaps he'd accept her for who she is.. but Barnaby really values honesty.. maybe he'd be upset that she lied to him about who she really is and wouldn't want to be her friend anymore..

She almost told Poppy, but backed out last second. She doesn't want to scare poor Poppy..

She's considered telling Sally.. and since Sally has a similar story to her.. maybe she'd be really understanding and accept her.. but she wasn't sure. So she never told her..

I'd like to imagine Home does, but Wally either doesn't notice them or thinks they're just normal old house things :0

For example, the first picture in this post shows Home before Wally restored it. The peeling paint was supposed to be like rotting flesh, showing a pale red wood underneath.. bright red wood exists in their world, but its not usually that shade of red...

I thought about there occasionally being a faint blowing sound somewhere in the house. Accompanied by drawn out rise and fall in temperature though all the rooms. Wally would say the windows don't seal that well or the walls have poor insulation.. Other's would say it feels like breathing..

I've considered that when Wally tries to hang a picture, the walls leak some kind of thick fluid. Obviously meant to be blood- but I miiiight not go with that one. Since that would be a big glaring problem that would grab Wally's attention-

KSJLJSJK WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO HOWDY?? XDDD

Also I'm actually pretty thin on ideas for Howdy.. although I DO have these headcannons about Howdy not liking winter/the cold! :0

I imagined that Howdy can't handle the cold at all <XD In the wintertime howdy is constantly cold, hungry and sleepy. This makes him move really slowly and show up late to everything 😔Thankfully he has his good pal Barnaby to lend a hand around the shop. But it just sucks that he's so exhausted in the wintertime and can hardly get anything done..

(In response to this post)

Thank you so much! :DD And ooooo! Yellow and black could work really well! :000

ALSO NOOO DON'T TUMBLE DRY THE CATERPILLAR- XDDDD

@neo-metalscottic (Chandelure post in question)

AAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! :DDD

And as for Julies sisters/brother, I actually haven't thought about them much.. BUT THIS IDEA IS SOOOO GOOD AND SPOOKY!!! U GOTTA FIND A WAY TO ADD IT TO THE AU!! :DDD

I would like to draw that comic, but its just a huuuuuge project for me to pick up atm <XD

@problematicskeleton

Thank you so much!! :DD Although unfortunately I don't know what image you're talking about.. I don't remember seeing Eddie hurt with Wally carrying him, and I don't have any intentions for Eddie to get seriously hurt! <:0

[millerscoffee]

dancing is a dangerous game | part one

you're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars.

5.5k | joel miller x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

tw: brief mentions of using your body for trading purposes, you shoot at joel miller????, light dub-con but that goes away quickly

warnings: post-outbreak au. no ellie. angsty smut, semi-dom!reader and dom!joel so that's fun, power struggle, age gap (joel is 56, reader is late 20s or early 30s), enemies to lovers, voyeurism (f watching m), masturbation (m and f), pet names/degrading names (baby, honey, darlin', brat, bitch, slut, etc.), dirty talk, choking, oral (m receiving), fingering, spanking, p in v (unprotected - wrap it up folks), joel is mean but not unkind. no use of y/n.

summary: inspired by "cowboy by me" by our lord and savior taylor swift. this is a post-outbreak world and joel has his own land. think bill, but a little less... deranged. kind of. you essentially are a raider, but make it fashion. when you stalk joel's cabin for the third day, that's when you get interrogated by none other than joel miller himself.

A/N: hi, i'm bee! this is my first fic on tumblr, and my first stab at this whole stratosphere. longtime listener; first time caller 💅. i was ALSO inspired by an ask i saw on @swiftispunk's page (hi! i love your writing sm??) and kinda just... ran with it. i honestly wasn't anticipating writing stuff during the outbreak, so i apologise if it's not quite right. imagine me living during that time with a tube of lipgloss and one (1) bullet in my pocket just in case. this... may be a series. i don't know yet. see ya! enjoy!!!

The first time you meet Joel Miller is down the barrel of your gun.

You can hear your father's voice telling you 'Back out, girl. Don't get too big for your britches.' Look where that got him. His ashes against your chest in a makeshift pendant necklace, buried by your clothes.

Still, you listen.

"It don't have to be like this," you drawl with index over the trigger guard. You've heard of him. Joel Miller. He's notorious, and even though you've kept to yourself most of your life, his name still roamed throughout the abandoned towns you passed. Someone always owed him, and he always owed somebody.

Your dad would've been older than him, but not by much. You knew of the world before this, was just a little thing. Still, you heard stories undulate from your father's southern voice that mostly left you bored on long days searching for food or shelter. You'd give anything to hear them now.

Part of you died when he did.

You were young when the outbreak happened. Resourceful, your father made it work in raising you. Taught you how to fend for yourself, rely on no one. Which was no easy feat considering how unbelievably stubborn you were. Were? Are.

Maybe he loved you. Maybe it was the chip on his shoulder. The kind of anguish that comes from not being able to give your mother the same kind of life. A promise to her.

Yes, you were young when the outbreak happened, but flashbacks of her getting attacked by a clicker burn you alive at night.

"Y'er on my land." A gruff voice calls you back to reality. Few words for someone who held your life in his hands. His own gun pointing back at you. Of course it would be.

"I was just passin' through." The lie flies through your teeth. You had been circling the place from a reasonable distance for a few days now. Scoping out when this man in front of you was his busiest, when he patrolled, when he slept. This was a heist situation, no doubt about it.

"Bullshit. This s'the third fuckin' time I seen you 'round here. And it's y'er last."

Shit. Fucking shit.

Your eyes dart to the side, really trying to pattern a plan in escaping but your breathing would say otherwise as calm and collected as it was.

In any other situation, you wouldn't be so willing to comply, but considering he's got you cornered and his gun is quite literally cocked and ready to go – you're not exactly in the position to make hasty decisions.

Goddammit if there wasn't something about him that made you nervous.

"Listen. Just was lookin' for somewhere to sleep. It's fuckin' cold and your stables look warm." Your head tilts in the direction of a lone horse's home in a bed of hay, and you're not fully lying. It's not that you have set up camp by any means, but you've noticed.

"We could trade. You give me y'er ammo, and I g–"

"You give me your cock, I get it. You really could be more original." You were used to this. Bartering, some might call it. Living out here on your own was dangerous, and running into men who wanted to use your body in order to get supplies wasn't that uncommon. If they were that kind, even. You'd heard the horror stories.

Albeit, most of these men met your gun in the end. Enabling you acquire their supplies, keep all yours, and your dignity. Win/win.

"...I give you the pleasure of livin' another day. Really? Y'think it's that easy?"

There was something in the way Joel says this that makes you grateful for the jacket you're wearing. Goosebumps prickle your skin, bile creeping up your throat and you will it back down again. Y'think it's that easy? As if he thought you wanted it.

If circumstances were different, you'd be rubbing the crimson off your cheeks. Flashing him a sheepish grin in an attempt to resolve whatever misunderstanding there was... but this wasn't the environment to elicit such conversation.

And you weren't that type of person to begin with.

Instead, your index sweeps from guard to trigger when you fire off at his leg. Hasty decisions be damned. You're quicker than him, so why're you tryin' to save him? You're a 'shoot to kill' type of person, and as the bullet grazes past his calf – part of you wishes you had.

Because not only did your bullet not make contact, Joel gets worse. You two lock eyes. His rifle is thrown over his shoulder as he grunts and walks perfectly fine over to you – despite the way his eyebrows knit together, jaw ticked. Was that a grin? Do something, anything – run.

Joel grips the nape of your neck, and you yelp in surprise.

Who the fuck does this man think he is?

His large hand eclipses your wrist as he maneuvers the gun from your hand. The action makes you writhe in pain, and it sends a shiver down your spine to know he's only using an ounce of his power.

You dig your elbow into his ribs despite him stronger than you. Stomping, kicking, punching anything you can find.

"What the fu–"

"Little girl, you picked the wrong one." His breath edges at the shell of your ear, and every sign should be pointing for you to hate this, but it almost feels familiar. Like yourself. It's only then when you worry.

---

You don't realise it, but Joel is pushing you inside his cabin. Keeping your head in direction of the ground, thud of the door heard somewhere behind you.

"You want to be treated like a big girl? Get these fuckin' pants off."

"What... what? No I'm fuckin' not–"

Joel chews up the space between you when he pushes you to the nearest wall. Your back at his chest, a cheek flush against the cabin's support.

Pine, tobacco, and whiskey fill your senses and you bite back the urge to whimper. He wouldn't see you like that.

"You're not? That why you were watchin' me jerk off last night? 'Cuz you don't wanna give it up?"

That alone makes blood creep up your neck and spill over your cheeks. You have to squeeze your legs together to quell the ache.

It was lonely on your own.

Most nights were spent half asleep on a cold, hard surface. Tired and hungry more days than not. You don't remember the last time you got a hot meal, much less been touched. So when you heard Joel's low grunts coming from the window (a window from a cabin you don't know quite yet that he built with his own hands) you become intrigued.

It's in this moment you're certain it must have been the rustling of branches just outside his room. You remember it happening last night, cursing to yourself for making noise. His fist stalled around the girth of his fat cock before spilling his seed over his stomach. As if that is what caused him to come.

It makes sense now, and it equally causes you to become dizzy and filled with rage. You bite your bottom lip, unable to think of a response.

"Mouthy thing ain't got much to say now. Now c'mon. I ain't taking these off you, doin' it y'erself." More of a warning, Joel lets up on his grip on you, but you're defenseless. No weapons, no pack. He's got your world in his hands.

With the newly found space between the two of you, you turn around – back of your head against the wall as your eyes find the other set for, perhaps, the first time. And they're deep. Deeper than you were aware of. Dark, impossibly round. Wrinkles reside on the sides of them, and if you knew any better, you wouldn't admit they were doing something to you.

But not only are you stubborn, you're too forthright to beat around the bush.

"I shot at you, and you want my cunt? You must be lonelier than I a–"

"Now."

Your words don't match your actions as your hands fall by your sides. Fingers play with zipper of your old, faded jeans that have seen better days.

You can't help but snicker an awkward laugh from how he's just watching you. Insecurities rise when you realise you're not laughing at him, but more his eyes on you. How intense it feels suddenly. He wants this. Wants you.

His eyes draw impatiently, broad frame leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed.

"Ain't got all day. Still considerin' your death."

His arms. Bulging through the fabric of his shirt, his body was built in a way that you could tell he worked with his hands... maybe in his past life, too. Throat dry, you shimmy out of your pants until you're left in your cotton panties.

Ones that you are becoming more aware the condition of. A small pool of wetness forming at the core of you clings to the fabric.

"Top, too."

Is that? It is. Your eyes wander down to see the growing bulge in Joel's pants. Not even the hem of his flannel could hide it. Sure, you'd seen it in its full form the night before, but that was with distance and without the heat rising between the two of you.

You bite your lip without hesitation, pulling the layers of jacket and a handful of tops onto the ground until you're bare. The cool air passes over your nipples and wills them into stiff peaks.

"Ain't you somethin', baby."

That's the first time Joel Miller draws a shaky exhale out of you. All from a single sentence.

When Joel steps over to you, that calm and collected breath is nowhere to be found. Your chest rises and falls at a random pattern, feeling more and more naked by the second as his clothes are completely kept on his body. A purposeful tactic.

He bends down to collect your clothes along with everything else that yours, and you are truly at his will. So busy on the precipice of pleasure that you don't even think about trying to get away.

"Stay."

"Ain't a dog." You glare, standing with your legs brushing together.

"Then quit actin' like a bitch. And quit movin', I'm gettin' to you."

It shuts you up quick, jaw snapping shut. You're certain if he told that to anyone else they'd be reduced to tears, but you can take it. It coils a heat inside the pit of your stomach that you've never felt. Causes your clit to feel as if it's on fire from the need to touch it.

Joel turns on his heel to walk away and it's as if you're able to breathe fresh air from the humidity he brings. You notice he's putting your things and his rifle away on his kitchen counter before coming back to you. He must really trust his ability to keep everything out like that.

Then again, have you even moved in the last five minutes?

The last thing he is, is worried.

You're able to look around, if only for a moment. Though, is it really looking? Your adrenaline is pumping, pupils blown from the fact that not only are you in the house you'd been stalking... you're about to fuck the man in it. And you almost tried to kill him. You definitely didn't miss on purpose. Couldn't have.

All the same, the cabin was nice, and you could take in briefly the light wood – old and weathered. A record player in the corner beside a guitar. This stuff could get you a lot in return, but for whatever reason that doesn't even cross your mind. Maybe your heart beating in your ears is a handy distraction to keep you walking the line.

Your eyes track the rugged man instead.

---

"Here's how this is gonna go," he announces, coming back to you and not phased that you haven't moved a muscle. "You are gonna take your ass over there on the couch. You're gonna make me come, then you're gonna go. Understand?"

"Well... I guess it is that easy."

Your bratty mouth getting you in trouble again. As if you're in the position to say anything. Naked as you are.

---

Joel's jaw ticks forward in a way that makes you feel fear, yet there's a direct correlation between it and the slick gathering between your folds. The same wide hand that gripped the nape of your neck wraps around the front of your throat while he pushes you against the wall, and your shoulders slump – all but folding instantly.

His mouth is inches from yours, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

"Listen here. I've been real kind to you. Coulda killed ya day one, tryin' to steal my shit like that. Was gonna be real kind in where I fucked ya, too. Now we're gonna fix that mouth a'yours and fast. Knees. Now." You soon come to know this isn't a suggestion. It's not even a warning. It is what's happening.

It's in the way Joel's hands guide you down onto your knees. He goes for his belt and you hear and see that distinct clang of metal untangle before your very senses. Your mouth waters instantly, teetering into fully giving into this struggle of power.

Joel's hands are calloused. You can tell he takes care of them, but that doesn't hide the wear and tear. Specifically on his fingertips. They grip your jaw roughly, and you choke back a moan as your mouth hangs open pliantly from this. Every nerve ending buzzing to be touched.

"Where'd that bratty girl go, huh? You done bein' big and bad – wanna be a slut, don’tcha?"

Your eyelash splay along your cheeks as you nod, and you feel his grip tighten, tugging your chin up higher.

"Look at me. You want this cock? I need your words. Tell me you wanna be a slut."

You're not sure when it happens, but hot tears run down your cheeks as everything comes to a head. Your body is trembling with raw desire right at your fingertips, just within reach. You can't hold back anymore, it physically hurts to.

"I wanna be a slut for this cock... please."

"Fuck, even a please. Oughta eat you out for that, sugar. Maybe next time."

Your brain is swimming at the thought. Next time?

With his free hand, Joel sets his cock free from his jeans, giving a satisfying smack to his abdomen quickly. No need for another piece of fabric keeping him from getting what he wants as you soon take note he isn't wearing boxers.

There's no denying what you're met with as you get to view it from this close. Joel Miller has a pretty cock. There's a soft, but bulging vein on the underside to match how big and thick it is. The rosy tip greets you, and it's the first time you get to see how much you've turned him on.

Your mouth is drooling while it's pried open and meets the tip of him. A moan from you is instantaneous, yet feels so distant from yourself, it doesn't affect you until much later. The taste of his precum coats your tongue as he slips past your lips and it's all you can experience. Your moans slip in and out of the sloshing sounds of your mouth. Keeping your hands by your sides, you don't tempt to touch him in fear he would pull away, so instead you twirl your tongue around his leaking head. Bob your head up and down in a slow, but sultry rhythm that causes him curse under his breath. He's not stoic above you, he's reacting.

He's clawing for every last bit of the upper hand.

"S'a lot, innit, babygirl? That's alright, you can take it." It's then you can sense Joel's guard slipping. Could be the fact that your mouth is suctioned perfectly around the length of his cock, but his voice gets damn sweeter the longer you go like this. His hips also have no problem in thrusting shallowly every now and then to knock the drool off of your dripping chin.

Even if you could form a thought, you don't know you would.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling it out of your face as you maintain eye contact. Intuitive in your approach, he told you to look at him earlier, so maybe he likes it? The groans filling the room lead you to believe you are correct. It feels so removed from who you were moments before: snickering because his gaze felt intimidating. Now, his pupils are blown as they pour into yours and his neck hangs back when your mouth makes those pretty, sloppy popping noises – testing your gag reflexes as you will them to relax.

It's way more intimate than anything you've ever done with anyone you've ever been with, and this stranger is pulling it out of you. Within the mess your brain is in, you remind yourself if you want to stop you can, and not a bit of you does.

The hot tears that were once down your cheeks swell in your eyes once more, but this time from the sheer size of him. You moan vibration after vibration against him, shifting and pushing your cunt against your calf, thigh – anything to feel some sort of friction.

He lets out a growl when he notices you, "Honey, if it's that bad, touch yourself." If your cheeks weren't red before, they are now.

It's him calling you out, slight embarrassingly, but not letting up with his hips. It's the way the embarrassment builds the fire in the pit of your belly. It's your hand pushing inside your panties at the sound of his command. And it's you practically choking on his cock from the gasp you let out through your nose – stunned at how wet you are.

Your fingertips barely brush over your clit when you notice the slick collecting, bubbling right at the very top of your slit and slutty moans fall out of you. Your eyelids droop as you try to keep your gaze up to Joel, but the way your fingertips roll over the hood of your clit in satisfying circles sends you over the edge way quicker than you anticipate.

"Shit, baby. Just like that. You filthy thing, can't hold off another minute longer, can ya? Need it right fuckin' now."

The sound of Joel's deep voice looms overhead as you come completely undone.

Unable to stop yourself, the suction on his cock pops free for a moment. Your moans hitting the air as your eyes roll back. Your body rushing to find each wave of pleasure roll off your back. Joel's cock still nestled in your mouth, but his hips still. "Goddamn, look at that little slut come out. Such a needy fuckin' kitten."

When Joel makes sure you've ridden it out, he pulls his cock from your mouth. Your body feels weak despite how eager your mind is now, face-to-face with Joel's cock, you watch as his scarred hand glides your saliva over his length entirely. It puts you in a trance, quickly getting out of it when he taps his cock against your cheek. "Pretty kitten want this? C'mon."

If your moans felt foreign to you, you don't even know what to do with yourself at the twinge of a grin that spreads on your face. The sheer audacity of his taps right against your fucking cheek. Orgasm-drunk, you shuffle to your feet and Joel has no problem in tossing you – finally – to the couch.

Your back is to him while the front of your body brackets the width of his couch, arms hunched over the back of it, knees dig into the cushions. You're grateful for the lack of eye contact in this position as it gives you a moment to press your face into your bicep, an attempt to collect yourself. But all of it obsolete when you sense Joel's presence at your ass.

His body heat unmistakable to miss. You bite at your own skin, neck craning to behind you to watch him.

"Shit, darlin', look at you. Ass up like this like y'er in fuckin' heat for me." You whine at the fact his clothes are still mostly on, and you know he must be sweating underneath them, but he won't give it to you like that. Not yet, 'maybe next time'. "You know I can't go any further 'til you get a spankin'. Need to be punished for tryin' to hurt me like that. For tryin' to take my things. Ain't right. Need you to learn your lesson."

Where are you? A part of you knows this is a tactic. That Joel is lulling you into a position you can't say no to. It already shows itself in how you're splayed on his couch. Yet, you can't find the person you were before you stepped into the cabin. Not yet, not like this. You nod weakly, and Joel swipes the cotton undies down to your thighs so quickly the rush of air cools the heat of your folds. A flutter runs through you.

"Count. To ten. If you don't, we start over. Say, yes sir."

"Y-yes... sir. Yes sir."

A searing, mind-numbing spank wallops over your ass and it causes your hips to jut forward. Whimper hitting the top of your throat, you almost, almost, forget to count. Everything in your senses distracting you from completing the simplest tasks such as fucking counting.

"O-one." Another. "Twooo." And again. "Th-three!"

You start sniffling by the third smack of his wide hand, and you hear mocking sniffs behind your head. "Aww, pretty baby can't take the hurt she tries to give to others? That must be really tough. Y'heart's bleedin' all over my couch, honey."

Your cheeks burn, you really feel sorry for what you've done. Or at least, what you were planning to do.

The next spank leaves a welt of Joel's handprint across your skin. "FOUR!" Your body begins to feel weak, sliding against the couch, you know talking back is useless as you silent tears stream into your arm.

There are six more blinding slaps to your ass by the time he's done with you, and you feel him pull back when he's through. You imagine him wringing his palms, the roughness of them. You begin to wonder if that's how they got to be so weathered, and pretend not to be weirded out by the ache of jealousy.

"Y'know for somebody whinin' the whole time, your pussy is just droolin' from that," any narrative you wandered off with disappears in its replacement of Joel's fingers gathering slick between your folds. No announcement, just go. It was just within reach, feeling him inside you. You ride the shudder your body makes, licking your lips as you realise the unspoken rule is free and you can speak. "N-need it. Need your cock, please... please." "Need it, and you don't even know my name?" His index and middle finger waste no time in pressing into your aching core. Sounds of your wailing mix with his words as he lurches over, lip close to your ear. "Or maybe you do already."

"Please, please, please," your fingertips grip for the worn fabric of his couch while your hips that try to jut back are quickly halted by his other palm, a strong stopper at the base of your spine. "Not 'til you tell me my name." "I-I don't know. I don't know it, I swear." Joel's thick fingers slip completely out of you and you mewl pathetically, pussy clenching around nothing and he can see every last detail of it behind you. "Last fuckin' time, better tell me the truth." "It's Joel," you cry, hips pushing back against the resistance as much as possible. Anything to be filled again. "Joel. Joel. Joel. I was... I was– I don't know anybody. Not with anybody, I swear! Joel, I swear. Please! Just grew up hearin' your name. I swear on my life, Joel, please! I know I lied, didn't think you'd believe me."

You don't know why you're begging like your life depends on it, but your pleasure surely does, and there's a longer pause than you want lingering behind you. As if you can palpably feel Joel contemplating whether you're being truthful or not. But if there's one thing about you, aside from this moment in this compromising position: you don't answer to anybody.

Joel's cock bottoming out inside of you at the drop of a hat is confirmation enough that he believes you.

And you not only wail, but scream at the stretch and irresistible contact that punches you straight to your gut – right where you can feel the tip of him. Half-moon prints dig into your hips by his short fingernails when he grabs ahold of you and you're on your forearms, head hanging between your shoulders. Your panties keep your thighs straying too far apart if there is such a thing.

"This what you wanted when you watched me?" Joel grips your torso now, pulling you closer to him as you become more upright, his cock more accessible to the spongy spot inside of you and your nipples stand erect, eyes rolling back as it takes all of you not to rest your head back against his shoulder, and you fail. Hard. Your occiput makes contact with his shoulder. Joel brushes your hair back to the side, lips graze but never fully touches the column of your neck. "Thought about this tight cunt last night. Left the window open on purpose, but you knew that already, didn't you, pretty girl? Clever little thing and so fuckin' dirty."

Joel's hand snakes around the front of you, spreading your folds as he dives his fingers over your glossed-over clit your wetness claimed and that sends a whine off of your depraved lips. "That's it, honey. Show me what this cock does to ya. Makes you downright brainless from how well you take it." While his skilled fingers, toy with your clit, the other set of digits graze over your breasts on their way up to your mouth. You take them inside the warmth of your wet mouth easily, rolling your tongue over the digits until you can only focus on the white hot pleasure beginning to boil over. You keep his fingers between your teeth, a faint realisation that you can taste yourself on them. That's what does it.

His hips are relentless as they pound into you, the repetitious slaps of his skin against yours, of his balls tapping your cunt again and again sends you into a place that he knows you're approaching when you tighten and pulse.

"Y'know how tight and wet you feel around me, darlin'? Never had a fuckin' cunt like this. Let it out, let it out, just like you wanna. Just like you did last night around your fingers. Nothin' like this cock though, and you know it now, don't you? Oh, fuck yeah– thaaat's it. Look at you." "Joel... Joel!!!" Joel talks you through it, sending your body diving off the cliff that is your second orgasm. The undeniable gush of your fluids around his cock. His name stays stuck at the your tongue, the constant thud of it vibrates your lungs.

It starts at the attention on your clit. The raw bundle of nerves send signals outward as it spreads down your legs, up your stomach, to your nipples and down your spine. Your brain feels effervescent, toes curl, and it comes back again right to your heart. Your beating heart, wild, and every moan, whimper, scream that comes from you sounds like it is from someone else's chest. But it's yours, and you know that when you start to feel hazy, unable to hold yourself up anymore.

"Good for my cock after all. Ain't ya, baby? Shit."

Your torso leans forward while your cheek rests on the top of your hand that's gripped on Joel's couch, and your body is relaxed and fucked. Comfortably silent, just the way Joel would want you. His cock slips out of you, unable to stop the slew of grunts and groans that acts as an anchor to keep you from slipping under. You lick your lips, looking back at him with a nod, unable to stay silent for long. That struggle of power coming back for vengeance. "That's right. Come all over this ass you ruined. See those handprints? Dirty fucking man, you just met me. Show me how much you enjoyed doing that."

That's as far as you get when you feel the heavy streams of his hot, white come rope over your skin, and for someone who is no position to be smug, you sure do have a shit-eating grin on your face. Pure, and the simplest thing the two of you accomplish.

Joel shakes his head, shallow breaths become him as he staggers back and you pretend not to notice. "Gonna kill me, kid."

"Almost did."

---

You don't know why, but neither of you hold the promise of you leaving right away. You linger, both of you half naked and spent. You take your time cleaning yourself off, slipping your clothes back on. Day becoming night.

You tiptoe into the living room where Joel is unfurled on his couch. His eyes are closed, the back of his head inches away from where the two of you just had sex.

Planning your goodbye, you sit at the edge of the couch cushion, knowing he wasn't really asleep. Just restin' his eyes.

"I am sorry...," you finally say into the dimly lit room, pangs of annoyance fizz at your tongue for even apologising. For shooting him, for trying to steal from him. All of it.

It's not his fault. It's just how you are.

This is dichotomous in relation to your eyes. They're bleary when a yawn pulls deep from within you. As if rest had been climbing up to the surface this entire time.

"Maybe you should be apologisin' 'bout your shitty aim. Could teach you a thing or two." Joel's eyes remained closed, arms crossed. If you could let yourself experience this, you would notice how soft he looks in this moment. Instead, your stomach is recoils in fight or flight.

You're glad he can't see you swallow the knot in your throat.

There was no magical solution for your life, and a part of you wishes you hadn't chosen his cabin to raid. You wish you hadn't met him, because now you could feel yourself want to notice the small things in him. Already.

You felt it dangerous to let anything that close to you.

You scoff to play it off, giving his chest a light shove and very accidentally getting lost in the light landscape of hairs that resides at the top of his flannel. "I could teach you a thing or two." A pathetic response for a pathetically spent human.

"We could both teach each other," he resigns and you're grateful he doesn't point out your lack of wit for how worn out he's made you. Perhaps the smugness settles in the things he doesn't say. Really, it's in what Joel spouts off next that throws you upside down.

"S'why you should stay. One month. That's it."

"Excuse me?"

"Didn't stuttered," your eyes roll and somehow, despite Joel's own being shut, he tuts his teeth. "Don't roll your eyes at me, little girl. You need a place to sleep. Besides, I could use an extra set of hands. Way I see it, best offer you've had in a while. Got a shelf life, though. Don't like to wait."

A part of you is suspicious, and if this man didn't make sure you orgasmed twice, you would suspect yourself to be dead within a matter of minutes.

There's something true about him, though. You're unwilling to look at it directly, but you trust him.

"Fine."

"Gonna need clearer confirmation, darlin'. Really need you to want this if you're gonna stay with me." He knew exactly where to press.

"Fuck, I shoulda killed you when I had the chance. I want to stay with you. One month." You try to ignore the grit between your teeth as speak, but your shoulders eventually soften. And you really do mean it. It's just... you're hardened from years of misplaced trust.

Your hand goes to the pendant around your neck subconsciously.

Joel either doesn't notice, or gives you the space.

You're grateful either way.

"That's that, then."

If anyone could understand the concept, it's Joel.

"That's that."

[yiiyiiwrites]

i love ur account! i was wondering if you could do jj maybank a little sister or daughter and she doesn’t have a mother figure so when she gets her period she doesn’t really know what to do so sarah and kie teach her about it which plummets into them teacher her about “the birds and the bees” and the boys walk in and she gets super embarrassed so they explain how it’s ok and normal. keep up the great work!

Hey, thanks for your lovely words! Here’s your request. Sorry for the wait (I wrote this on my phone so not edited)

The chateau, it had to be at the chateau she thought. It was only a matter of time till another Pogue would be knocking on the door to tell her to hurry up. Pope was sweet about it tapping on the wooden panel and asking if she was okay.

JJ however, his knocks nearly sent the door over. “kiddo, you passed out in there? Hey.” The door handle rattling above her head as she sat, back pressed against the door.

She sniffled, blinking the blurring vision and letting herself cry. The shorts slung over the edge of the sink, dripping with water and covered in red. She didn’t know what to do, it just happened. And there was no way she could ask her older brother. The thought made her cringe.

“Are you crying?” JJ’s voice softened, she wondered if he was sitting on the other side now talking to her. “Hey bud, can you let me in?” There’s a tapping of his fingertips trying to draw her out.

“I need kie,” she blurted out, “I need her.” Her fingers trembled as she wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Okay, okay, is it like girls stuff?”

“Just get Kie,” she snapped instantly regretting the harsh tone in her voice. “Please.”

She waited, hearing JJ’s boots stomping away and him muttering something she couldn’t figure out.

A soft tapping returned, nails drumming against the door. “Kie’s working a shift, but if you need anything I’m here,” Sarah said. “Can I come in?”

She debated it, teeth chewing her bottom lip before she let her in and dropped down to the tiled floor again, leaning her back on the bathtub. Her arms circled around her legs pulling them to her chest and chin resting on top of her knees.

Sarah squeezed through the small opening, locking the door behind her. She glanced between the shorts and to the younger Maybank.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, tightening her arms around her legs. “It just happened, it won’t come out and I don’t know what to do. I can’t ask J.”

“Hey,hey,” Sarah said, kneeling in front her and tucking her dirty blond hair behind her ear. “It’s okay, I know how you feel. I didn’t have my mum around to teach me about all this stuff. It just happens.”

Sniffling she wiped her nose on the palm of her hand and looked up at Sarah. “It just happens, why?” Brows scrunching.

“Happens monthly actually, part of a woman’s reproduction and hormones, like your bodies changing it’s nothing to worry about. It’s a natural thing,” Sarah said, she slid her phone out of her pocket and unlocked the screen. She searched for a brief video on the subject and played for the younger Maybank.

She watched in silence, clicking on a few more recommended videos before she was satisfied with the information. There was one thing however she wasn’t sure about.

Babies, the sound from the phone making her gaze flit to Sarah. “Babies, what do they mean babies. I’m still a baby.”

“No, no babies,” sarah whispered, hoping the guys couldn’t hear outside. “When you’re older and you like a boy, you know you’ll do it.”

“Do what?”

“You know sex,” Sarah paused, the door handle rattling. “Uh you know, they have to put it…you know what this is a discussion for when you’re sixteen maybe even twenty if JJ has anything to say.”

“Yeah, when you’re like thirty,” JJ shouted through the door.

“Another day, but when you’re ready come talk to me or kie before you actually feel ready to have sex and are old enough.”

Her cheeks flushed and she nearly dropped the phone in her hold. Handing it back to Sarah, “thanks, for helping me Sarah. What do we do about that?” She said pointing to the dripping shorts.

“Okay, so I’m going to get you some supplies and some clothes. You alright to stay here?” Sarah said, smiling back at her as she nodded.

*

Sarah led JJ down the narrow aisles of the nearest corner store. A few shelves full of products, JJ swinging his arms as he tried to take in everything Sarah was telling him.

“Jj are you listening to a word I’m saying,” Sarah snapped, she swatted his arm lightly trying to get his attention.

“Yeah,” he nodded, picking up the nearest packet.

Sarah sighed, “you don’t want them ones,” she said trading his packet for another. “Start with pads, easier and…”

“Pads?” He interrupted her before she could go too into all the products.

“It’s not a flesh eating virus JJ, you can talk about them. Not going to turn you into a zombie.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “Just weird, you know. She’s not a kid anymore,” he said, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched Sarah read the packets of pads before putting them in the basket.

“Come on,” Sarah said, placing the pads in the basket. “Be nice to your sister ok? It’s all new and she might be little distant and moody, snappy if she’s in pain.” She glanced over her shoulder to JJ who followed closely behind her.

His brows furrowed, “in pain?”

“Yeah, she’ll probably get some bad cramping, so chocolate and a hot water bottle will help.” She said placing the items in the basket as she spoke.

It didn’t take the two long to get all the supplies and drive back to the chateau. Sarah giving younger Maybank some extra clothes and telling her what to do.

When she finally did come out of the bathroom, the Pogues were trying their best to act normal. John B and Pope arguing about which movie to watch and Kiara already putting a rom-com on.

“Hey come sit, we’re watching a movie and got lots of chocolate,” kie called to her, patting the empty spot on the sofa beside her.

She sunk into the lumpy cushions, smile tugging the edge of her lips. JJ stopped in front her, he placed the fuzzy water bottle into her arms and patted the top of her head. He walked off, sitting down by Pope on the floor, the silent action making her clutch the hot water bottle closer. The warmth helping her relax.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Remember my hivemind/bee-like/mind-control mutant Reader? Yeah, from the Villain AU? Well, what if we have a version of them in X-Men Evolution AU?

Reader Readerson, a lone wolf kind of teen, who wears brown boots, a black top, and golden-amber shorts, is a mutant who only recently discovered their mutation. But it isn't something they like, or feel safe with. Not at all.

They can control people, in a way.

They aren't sure exactly how or why, they just know they have some kind of, of venom, or maybe a pheromone, or something, that if a person absorbs, Reader can hear their thoughts. And the ones infected? They can hear Reader's, too. But when Reader tries to figure it out, or fix it, they find that while the infected retain their personality and memories and know how to breathe and blink, they are influenced by Reader.

Reader never meant to find out, they aren't aren't sure how it happened, it was an accident, they swear! But now their mind is constantly filled with the hum of other thoughts, seeing and hearing things those others feel, having to hear and know in full their anger and terror and panic and hate, and Reader just-

They stop sleeping.

They start wearing gloves.

They stay away from groups, from crowds, from everyone, more than they already did.

They feel scared of themself, they want to cry but can't, they feel like a monster, they don't want to be like this, they don't want to exist-!

They end up transferred to a new school, they're forced to pack up and go to wherever their new home is, and now they have to make themself as unnoticeable and forgettable as possible. They're alone, in this strange new place, left to their own devices, and with no one to turn to. It's excruciating. They're in pain. Their mind hurts almost each waking moment...

But they can't sleep for longer than a few hours, or they might see or hear the others, might have to see their faces and be under their scrutiny and possibly yelled at or blamed or abandoned all over again... And they can't go through it again. They just can't...

They end up catching the eye of Xavier and Mystique, both of whom want their teens to try and find our more about Reader, see if they can figure out the extent of their abilities, and perhaps see if they can get Reader to join them...

This leads to the X-Teens and Brotherhood teens trying to figure out the lonely kid who talks only when spoken to, who looks exhausted, and who wears gloves, sweaters even when it's hot, and stay to their own devices. Jean tries to see into their mind, to see what they're working with- and is pulling back out, shaken up a bit by how loud and scared it is inside Reader's head, full of constant stress and fright and paranoia...

Kitty and Kurt try to appear as possible friends or study buddies, putting on their best face, and inviting Reader to sit with them during fieldtrips. Reader is scared of almost everything and everyone, according to Jean, so they need to be as unintimidating as possible. Evan gets them to help tutor him and offers to help them with picking an extracurricular (Oh look, basketball, he's sure they'd be great at that! And he plays it too! What are the odds!) Rogue is sitting by them, offering silent company or recommending some good books, choosing ones with themes of friendship and acceptance. And Scott and Jean are trying to appeal to them, in an older sibling/student kind of way, asking if they are okay, and if they might want to see their Professor for some help, do they need someone to walk them home from school or drive them where tbey need to go?

Wanda is giving them space. She'll simply sit there, read a book or work on homework, but otherwise be a presence around Reader, so they'll get used to it. Pietro is trying to come off as charming, asking questions a mile a minute, offering g that he and his friends are the best, so wouldn't Reader like to try hanging with them? Todd takes art class with them, and compliments their clay sculptures and paintings, hoping to bind through creativity. Fred is trying trying help them during P.E., mainly by making sure they don't get hurt during dogeball (so do all the other mutants kids). And Lance tries to come off as trustworthy, pointing out they're both kinda loners, they both happen to have powers, and while he has a team, Reader doesn't, so why not join their side, hm?

Reader feels overwhelmed, but manages to hold it all in- until the adults enter, and now Reader is spiraling as their powers are about to be found out in their fullest form, and they can't stand stand be yelled at, or cast out, or seen as evil.

This ends up with the discovery going in a way Reader didn't expect... And with the growing platonic yanderes more worried than ever about this newest mutant...

@sugar-soda @vivid-bun @danni1323 @thewickedweiner @opossumdaydreamz @weebwholovesuchihasasuke @ainsellshadewalker

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels, here is another chapter! As always thank you all for the love you show me and all your kind words, I love reading all of your messages and comments/replies!! Everyone seems to love Gwayne Hightower lol !

Setting a boundary here: Please stop asking me when the next update is going to be when there has been a ONE DAY BREAK, its really rude and fucking annoying hehe (i'm at my breaking point with these dms).

ANYWAY... I wrote this chapter ages ago ahead of time and have been itching to get you all here... hehe... Enjoy <3

Chapter 64: A Bee 

You walked around the Keep aimlessly, looking at the different Lords and Ladies who shuffled aimlessly through the castle, thinking of who you could pursue. You thought of how Aegon and Aemond had both happily, and openly found pleasure with others. And how women like your mother were punished for doing the same. 

You had left your chambers with clarity in your mind. You would find someone else. If Aemond was to travel and love another, then you would too, only minus the travel.

They could be your ally in the Keep. You could spend your time talking to them and enjoying your days in each others company. You would not be so alone in the Keep. And above all of this, it could be advantageous.

When you left your chambers, you walked with no destination round the Keep. More specifically, the areas were Lords and Ladies would frequently pass. You had walked and observed, watched and deliberated on who would be a good match for you.

You thought of the names you already knew.

Perhaps the Lannister? But even the idea of taking him into your bed made your skin crawl, for all of Aemond’s cruelty, you knew that he would at least bring you pleasure, and doubted that the Lannister even knew how. 

You thought of Cregan Stark. Now he would be a good match. He was about your age, a few years older, maybe the same as Aemond. He was, from what you had been told, a handsome and respectful Lord. He was said to have the famed dark, curly hair of the Starks and eyes to match. But he was in the North, and thankfully allied to your mother, and you doubted that he would be able to sneak into the Keep unnoticed, nor you be able to send word to him by raven. 

It would have to be someone who came to the Red Keep frequently.

Or resided in Kings Landing at least.

You let yourself lean against a wall in a hallway, watching potential suitors walk past you. To your dismay, most of the Lords were old and balding, whilst the women refused to meet your gaze. You thought of Ser Criston Cole, but shrugged the thought away quickly with a shiver. He would not come to your bed willing and at the slightest hint of your plotting he would tuck tail and run to his precious Hightower Queen. You would do well to avoid him at all costs.

Lest you end up like you mother.

You shuddered at the thought and continued to watch the people walk about the Keep.

And then you saw someone promising.

He was tall, though not as tall as Aemond, and with a regular build. His skin was pale and dark curled hair was cut close to his head. He was not the most handsome man you had seen, but in a Keep with limited options you thought he would be a good enough.

Lord Jasper Wylde, Master of Laws, member of Aegon’s small council, walked through the halls slowly, large tome and parchment in hand. His eyes were a light brown, and he had a trimmed dark beard around his face. His face was stern and his eyes were hard, a most serious looking man.

You smiled at him gently as he walked closer towards you, moving to pass you in the halls. 

“Lord Wylde.” You greeted, straightening your posture as you smiled sweetly at him. 

You had not spoken once to the man, merely been in his presence a few times, including once when you has dined with Aegon on your wedding night. The Lord slowed his step and looked down at you, hint of interest in his eyes.

Perfect.

“Princess.” He greeted back, and moved to continue his walk. You pushed away from the wall to come beside him, his eyes watching your move.

“Might I accompany you on your walk?” You asked sweetly, hands behind your back as you pushed your chest forward subtly. You felt a prickle run along your skin.

You had heard from Saria that the Lord was known as Ironrod to the small folk, for he was unbending and immovable with his beliefs. A small voice wondered that if he was called Ironrod for another reason. Lord Jasper had sired over twenty-nine children, and had wed four wives, three of whom you knew had died in child birth.

“Of course, My Lady.” Wylde responded, uncertainty in his voice as you slowly began to walk together through the halls of the Red Keep.

“I must apologise for my behaviour in the Throne room the other day,” You began, knowing that he had witnessed your outburst. You needed to be sweet, saccharine, a docile woman he may take advantage of, “I was finding myself emotional after so long apart from my husband.” You looked down shyly at your feet as you walked. 

The Master of Laws stayed quiet beside you as you continued. Perhaps he would not be as easy as you had thought. You turned another corner, looking at the man as something moved in the corner of your eye.

“Does your wife reside here in Kings Landing with you, My Lord?” 

“My late Lady Wife passed away in childbirth two moons ago.”

Four wives then.

You slowed your step, frown pulling your lips downwards. A shiver rolled down your back and your hairs stood on end.

“My condolences. Are you being looked after?”

Jasper smiled down at you softly, “Of course, Princess. King Aegon provides all that I need here.”

Ugh.

“I am gladdened to hear this.” You paused looking back down at your feet as he slowed his step, curious eyes looking over you. 

“Do you not get... lonely?” You asked, looking up at him as you came to a complete stop.

The Lord of the Rain House stilled and looked down at you, hands adjusting the tomes and parchment in his hands. A silence stretched between the both of you as you looked at each other. 

Why was he not saying anything?

More importantly, who was watching you?

It set you on edge.

“I only ask as my Lord Husband is away for so long, and I find myself anxious for his return.”  You made a show of the sadness you supposedly felt, lifting a hand to come touch the man, before rethinking it and tucking back behind you to move forward. 

“It does get lonely, at times.” Lord Wylde spoke quietly, “Though I have promising news of a potential betrothal to Lady Ellyn Baratheon.” 

Here comes wife number five.

Shit.

“Oh, that is wonderful news then, My Lord. I must congratulate you. I would hate to know the you suffer the same affliction as I do.” You continued. 

The prickling of your skin started again and you turned your head. You and Lord Wylde had walked beside the Godswood in the open courtyard coridoors, where not too far from you stood a man with his cane.

You were definitely being watched.

“This is where I must leave you,” You told him, “Until we meet again.” You smiled, turning and leaving Lord Wylde without hearing his farewell. 

You crossed the courtyard not too far away, to where Lord Larys Strong, Master of Whispers, stood watching you with a knowing smile, leaning on his cane.

“Princess Y/n.” He greeted you, as you came to stand in front of him.

“Lord Larys. Do you ever grow tired of watching me from afar?”

The man hummed, “A fine day in King’s Landing.”

“No finer than the last. I would ask you to join me on my walk, but… I fear it may not be of interest to you.” You pointedly look down at his club foot.

Larys smiled, “It would be a pleasure to join you, Princess. My club foot would not restrict me from such an honour.”

You hummed.

Turning on your foot, you waited until he came to your side and began to slowly move out of the courtyard. You moved around the Keep, leading out to the garden.

Caution arose inside of you as you walked beside Lord Larys. You did not trust the man, nor did you like him. He was one of the many vipers in this nest, and had whispered in Alicent’s ears for years. For the most part, he had made himself scarce, barely acknowledging you, nor your presence for many years growing up, but now his sudden interest in you was a warning for you to keep a level head.

You would do well to not let your guard down around the man and not show him any weaknesses.

“Lord Larys, forgive me for my brazenness, but I must ask you.” You stopped walking and looked at him.

He did not look much like Ser Harwin. He was smaller, and weaker and ill-made. He stood crooked and thin, skin pale, and resembled a weasel more than a man. But his dark eyes and hair were the resemblance of his House.

“I am sure what you are about to ask is neither brazen, nor offensive, My Lady.”

You gave him a small smile.

“How does it feel...” You began looking down at the floor in mock innocence, as you begin to walk again through the garden, dirt path beneath your feet, and blooming flowers of all colours and shapes surrounding you.

You left him in limbo of the question a little while longer, before continuing, “...To the be the last of Strong blood? I was shocked when I had heard the news of what my Lord Husband had done in Harrenhal to your House, and I feel as though I must apologise to you for his actions.” 

“My Lady, you know more than I, that I am not alone.” He looked at you pointedly.

Your brothers. 

You clenched your jaw.

“Ah, yes. Alys Rivers.” You looked him up and down, “I suppose with her still surviving, you are not the last Strong after all.”

Larys lets out a small, knowing laugh, quiet for no-one else in the garden to hear, but loud enough for you.

You steered the both of you towards where you always sat. Where you and Helaena had watched sunsets and sunrises, looked at bugs and talked of your futures together.

Not at all what it was for now. 

You sat at a small steel table, and held out a hand for him to take the one opposite you. He bowed his head and sat, leaning his long cane against the table. It was well crafted, with a gold top, a small bee in its centre. It reminded you of the cane that had been left in your chambers. 

A servant boy came to join you once he saw the two of you seated.

“Please bring me and Lord Larys some tea and fruit. " You smiled at the boy, "Thank you.”

The young boy, no older than ten-and-five, bowed his head, and scuttled out of the garden towards the Keep. You held your hands together on the table.

“I will withdraw any pleasantries from this conversation henceforth. You know better than I,” You mocked his previous words, “That you are no ally to me, and I simply cannot stand the sight of you.” You smiled gracefully.

To any passing in the garden, it would look as though you were having a pleasant interaction.

“For years I had thought of how Ser Harwin and your late father had died so quickly on their return back to Harrenhal. I had slept on it as a child, you see. Ser Harwin was good to us,” You smiled and nodded your head to behind him, "He trained me in the yards just on the other side of this Keep. He was like a father to me.” 

Larys watched as you spoke to him, relaxed in your chair. All falseness had left his face, and what was left in its wake was a viper. He certainly played the defenceless and meek man well. 

“At first, I had my suspicions that Alicent had to be behind it, but it did not make sense for the man who could be put on trial for treason, to be put to death first. And so quietly too. "

You leant forward on the table as you looked at him, "Alicent loves a public spectacle, we saw that the day she tried to take my brothers eye. So I ruled her out. And then I thought some more.”

The servant boy came back with a large silver tray, pot of tea and teacups sitting atop, with a small plate of cut up fruit. You paused from your thoughts as the young boy placed the cups down in front of you, pouring them high and placing the fruit in its centre.

“Thank you. That will be all.” You thanked the boy, dismissing him, watching as he left. 

Reaching across the table you picked up a small sugar container, mother of pearl spoon inside. You scooped a small spoonful of sugar out of the bowl and held it towards Larys.

“Sugar?” You asked.

The man nodded, and you let the small soft grains fall into his cup of tea, before placing the sugar back in front of you. Picking up your unsweetened tea, you brought it to your lips, the steam brushing against your mouth warmly.

You took a small and polite sip. It was steeped perfectly.

A soft bitter aftertaste, just as you preferred in times of stress like this. Larys picked up his spoon, stirring the sugar into his tea gently, before bringing it up to his lips to drink.

“It was not hard to figure out. Who would have something to gain from the death of the Lord Lyonel Strong, and his first born son, Ser Harwin?”

You placed your teacup back on the table, letting the china clink softly against one another. Larys mirrored your movements. He did not seem nervous at all by your accusation, nor comments.

“Of course, it always comes down to the second son. You had a title to gain, lands and wealth, and not only that, but I suspect something to hold over the Queen’s conscience. Am I wrong?” You asked, and Larys stayed silent, "I’m sure you made it seem as though you did it for her, yes?”

“Quite the accusation, Princess. What you accuse me of would be treason, and kinslaying.” Larys mused, picking up his cup to sip at again.

“Of course. Forgive me, ’tis merely just speculation and a child’s mind left to run through endless possibilities.” You shrugged, and reached forward to pull a grape from its bunch, popping the round fruit into your mouth, feeling your teeth slice through the juicy flesh.

“It was an unfortunate accident. They say that Harrenhal is cursed.” The Strong man began, “Not at all like what had happened to the poor Prince Daeron.”

You let your head lazily look down as you sighed, “An unfortunate accident,” You parroted, “A casualty of war. Thank the Seven that we now have a treaty, to prevent further losses such as that.”

You sipped your tea in tandem, a tense silence filling your area of the garden.

“And how are you faring? Have you settled back into the Keep?” He asked.

“With my Lord Husband so frequently gone, I find myself more settled than ever.” You smiled, “It is relaxing to know that I do not have two monsters, watching me at all hours. Though I do worry for his absence. What whispers will the courts concoct once they hear of his whoring?”

“Trouble in paradise in such a fresh marriage is concerning to hear. But I would not worry on any opinions of the Lords and Ladies at court. They would not care for a bastard born from another.”

“And what of this bastard, Lord Larys, Master of Whispers? I have heard whispers of my own. They say that she is a witch, and has put a spell on my husband. That is why she still lives. Is it true?” 

“I seemingly recall you reminding me that I am neither your ally, nor you mine.”

“Mm. That’s true. You can’t blame me for trying. It is terribly dull, locked in this Keep. I am just desperate enough to sit and have tea with you, let alone look at you.” You smiled, and he smiled back. 

“Is this why you peruse the Keep in search of somebody? Is your Lord Husband not satisfying your needs, warming your bed chambers?”

“Unfortunately for me, my bed chambers are warmed enough. Though they lack a certain, want. I am sure you would know all about this, having known about Aegon and his wondering cock. You know, it truly is a mystery at how it has not fallen off yet.”

“A mystery indeed, Princess.” He paused, drinking from his tea, watching you, thinking, and when he comes to a conclusion, he places the cup back down, reaching to refill it.

“But Alys Rivers is less of a mystery.” He began, “I have heard tales of her beauty. An older woman with hair as black as the night sky, and eyes of green that pierce any mans soul. Rumours are about that she is a witch, and she claims to be one. Though who knows if it is real or not. I have been told she wears a chain of Valyrian steel around her neck, with three emeralds dripping from it. A gift from a Targaryen Prince.” The man shrugged, “Depends on what you believe.”

He brings the cup to sip again, eyes watching you over the rim.

“Are you a man of Faith, Lord Strong?”

“Of course, My Lady.”

“And what do you believe?”

“I believe what I am told.”

“And what a good little dog you make for it.” You smiled viciously, pulling another grape from the table to pop into your waiting mouth. “For a Master of Whispers, you sure do miss a lot of things.”

“Like what, Princess?”

You laughed.

“If you truly are a Master of Whispers, I am sure you will find out in due time. Need I remind you that I am neither your friend, nor ally?”

“You need not. Though may I give a word advice?”

You sighed, cocking your head, “No. But I have a feeling that you are going to anyway.”

“If you are to look for a man to warm your chambers in the absence of your husband, it is best that you don’t do so, so brazenly.” He smiled brightly, “Though he has lost an eye, he is not blind and has his ears.”

“Of no doubt you will be whispering your poison into.”

Larys smiled a sickly smile, “Of no doubt. Who knows what the courts may begin to whisper. Of course, only if my hand is forced.”

“May I offer you a word of advice, Lord Larys?”

The mans hand touched the top of his cane, its engraved bee sitting pretty in the expanse of the tip. A smirk wound its way on his lips in confirmation, head tilting to tell you to speak.

“Don't fuck with me." You smiled, and enjoyed the way the man blinked in shock at your harsh words, “I have found that throughout my life, men with ambition are a great threat to the realm and to the people living within it. I doubt that any man,” You looked him up and down in disgust, “Or woman, would lay with you. And without the lust of flesh, you are free to lust after power. A dangerous man indeed.” You smiled falsely, leaning back in your chair, listening to the waves behind you before you continued.

“Dragon or no dragon, I have not forgotten your place in this war, nor what you had done to Ser Harwin. I will rip your throat out with my teeth if I must. But of course,” You stood from the table looking down at the man who’s brow had hardened, “Only if my hand is forced.”

You walked around the table to stand beside Lord Larys.

“Thank you for an… inspiring conversation, Lord Larys.” You smiled down at him, “I had almost forgotten of your presence in the Keep.”

You grinned at the man, letting your hand come to touch his shoulder in a friendly manner.

Lord Larys Strong, Master of Whispers, stared at his empty tea cup as you walked away, leaving him to his thoughts and your unprovoked threat.

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[mcdonaldsnumberone]

VARIOUS AND PRECIOUS (MOMENT OF INERTIA)!

what love is to them

gender neutral reader

NAGI SEISHIRO!

when you pamper him!

It’s easy for people to dismiss Nagi as a lazy genius who does little to fend for himself, but deep down, you know that there’s more to Nagi than the sleepy boy most people dismiss. He’s someone who wants a lot of love, having fended for himself living alone for most of his life, and if there’s someone who’s willing to feed him the affection he’s been lacking so long, of course he latches on like bees to honey. All Nagi ever wants to do is to sidle up next to you while you work or fold laundry and melt into your touch when you lean over to ruffle his white hair. It doesn’t take too much to make Nagi happy, but he knows for sure that nothing beats soaking up your attention like a touch-starved teddy bear. You certainly don’t have any complaints about him hogging you, especially when you’re the one enabling him.

“Give me a kiss…,” Nagi grumbles, and the boy plops his head down in your lap and sprawls his long limbs across the length of the couch. You glance up from the book you were reading, and your attention suddenly shifts away from the words on the page to the young teenager peering up at you expectantly with drooping eyes. “It’s so hard to stay awake.”

You giggle to yourself, and you set your book down to gingerly thread your fingers into Nagi’s soft hair. “Well, if it isn’t Sleeping Beauty. You’ve worked hard today at practice, haven’t you?”

He nods slowly, and his face practically glows as he soaks up your touch. You continue to stroke at Nagi’s hair, fingertips rubbing soothing patterns into his scalp. He sighs, “Mhm. I did all the training regimes that Christ Prince set up for me, and Reo made me do some passing practice with him. So much work…”

The boy clearly expects a reward for all of his efforts, and you stifle back another giggle at how adorable your boyfriend is. For being one of the most highly coveted players from the Blue Lock program, all he ever wants to do most of the time is cuddle up next to you and let the hours pass by. Who could look at such a doe-eyed, harmless sweetheart and realize that he’s the same genius striker that singlehandedly dominates the field?

You duck down carefully, and you press your lips once, twice over each of his eyelids. The corners of Nagi’s lips twitch upwards into a warm smile, and he settles down even further into your lap, happy and comfortable using you as his personal pillow.

“Happy now, Sei?” You ask quietly, tapping the tip of his nose with your pointer finger. Nagi lets his eyes flutter shut, and he pretends to think before shrugging innocently.

“Not sure,” he murmurs cheekily. “Maybe another kiss will help me make up my mind.”

ITOSHI RIN!

when you’re there for him!

Rin believes that to make it in this cold, cruel world, he has to face everything head-on and by himself. It’s how he tended to his tender, wounded heart when his older brother abandoned their collaborative dream, and it was this exact cutthroat philosophy that secured his success within the Blue Lock program. Rin is quick to weed and cut out anyone he deems as weak or unworthy of his time, but in reality, he’s nothing more than a young teenager who craves the warmth and validation of someone he admires. He needs someone to love him unconditionally, not because he can become the greatest striker and certainly not for the results he can bring. You’re the one who’ll drop everything to comfort him when he has a bad day or the only one he feels comfortable calling when he’s lonely at night. And once you’re in his arms, his bleak and frozen world seems a little bit more warm.

The clock reads 2 in the morning in bright red neon letters, yet it’s clear from the tight grip Rin has on you that your boyfriend has no intention of letting you go. There’s a horror movie playing in the background of his room, yet neither of you are paying attention to what’s happening on the screen.

“You know,” you lightheartedly begin. You’re snuggled up comfortably in Rin’s arms on his bed, cocooned in a mountain of blankets that smell exactly like him. “It’s probably not healthy for you to stay up this late. Don’t athletes have to maintain a really strict sleep schedule?”

The boy sticks his bottom lip out into a rare pout, a vulnerable side of him that he only ever shows to you. Outside of the safety of his bedroom, Rin is best known as a fearsome striker with an ice-cold heart, not showing any forgiveness to those he deemed inferior to him. Yet despite this impenetrable persona of his, the moment he called you late at night and asked if you were busy, you immediately halted whatever you were doing and practically sprinted out the door to get to his place as quickly as humanly possible.

Rin had happily welcomed you in, and it only took one look at his wide eyes and sad lips to realize how lost and lonely this poor boy was. You were more than happy to fill up the empty voids in his life, to kiss him and hold him and remind him of how loved he is, no matter how much his own brain tells him otherwise.

“I can stay up a little bit longer,” he grumbles, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

You grin, and you lovingly smooth down his black hair. “Whatever you say, buddy. You’re just saying that because you want to spend more time with me. Don’t worry, Rin. I’m not going anywhere.”

You hope Rin memorizes that promise. He loves you so, so much. And it’s this kind of quiet, endearing affection that makes Rin fall for you all over again.

MICHAEL KAISER!

when you don’t care if he lives or dies!

Kaiser is so, so, so horribly used to getting what he wants. Fans throw themselves at his feet in awe of him, and with just one well-timed show-stopping smile, he could make anyone fall in love with him easily. As a famous superstar, Kaiser knows he could have anybody he wants by his side: celebrities, socialites, the upper echelon of people that you could only dream about. Except his issue is that he’s fallen madly in love with you, and you physically couldn't care less about the arrogant blond who’s more of a thorn in your side than he is impressive. For the first time in his life, Kaiser has to work incredibly hard to win your favor, and as much as it frustrates him, it makes him fall even harder in love with you. Kaiser is nothing if not determined, so he’ll work through all of your sharp glares and prickly insults to win your coveted heart.

“Do you enjoy annoying me that much?”

Kaiser never knew being insulted like this could make him swoon. Not ever in a million years would he dreamt that someone who held his favor could treat him so callously, and never in a million years would he have dreamt that his heart would swell and skip a beat at that treatment. There are absolutely no signs of warmth on your clearly pissed off face, yet it makes the blond’s face heat up to see you glowering at him.

“I’m not annoying you,” he coos, attempting to step closer to you. You expertly step away from him, refusing to let him come any closer to you than necessary. Kaiser’s hurt, but at the same time, it excited him endlessly. “Any normal person would be honored to be graced by my presence!”

You roll your eyes at him, and your voice is tinged with such disgust when you acknowledge him. “Consider me abnormal then. I’m not quite jumping for joy at the thought of someone like you tailing me around.”

Everyone thought he had lost his mind when he admitted that he was falling for you. Admittedly, Kaiser thought it was crazy too: why have someone as unimportant and insignificant as you when he can have anyone he wants in the world? But it’s this exact roughness that makes him weak in the knees and leaves him breathless. He wants to see more of you, to see what it would take to make you melt under his touch and desire him as much as he desires you.

“Someone like me?” He repeats playfully. He wiggles his eyebrows, and he lowers his eyelids seductively to bat his long lashes at you. How many countless sleepless nights had he spent perfecting his appearance in hopes that you’d pay attention to him! “Someone as handsome as me? As sexy as me? As perfect as me?”

You scrunch your face up as if you had eaten something sour. “No! You’re the exact opposite of that!”

The German laughs heartily, and he stares adoringly at you with the kind of persistent tenacity that leaves the two of you in this oddly flirty song-and-dance. “There’s absolutely no need to play so hard to get, darling! One day, I’ll get you to admit how much you love me!”

“In your dreams, Kaiser!”

NOEL NOA!

when you do your best for him!

Noel understands that he’s not the easiest man to love. Not only is he the current greatest striker in the world, he knows that the pressure of being by his side isn’t to be taken lightly. While he loves you and cares for you in ways that he can’t describe, he’s more than aware of the sacrifices you have to make to receive his love. So he’s more than appreciative whenever you greet him with a big smile and an even bigger hug, reassuring him that no matter what life throws your way, you’ll be fine as long as Noa is there for you. Your efforts won’t ever go unnoticed around him, and he’s always quick to remind you that his heart only belongs to you. Noa is fiercely loyal, and so long as you keep your head held high, Noa will face the world bravely with you, hand in hand.

“Another early flight?” You purse your lips as you scan over his flight itinerary. The sheer amount of numbers and fine text made your head spin, and you had to blink and shake your head to clear your vision. “It’s just one thing after another for you, Noel. Your management really needs to give you a break sometimes!”

Noa had insisted that you didn’t need to come to every game that he was in. He knew you had a life of your own, and frankly speaking, even just following him around everywhere was a taxing task in it of itself. But you wanted to support your lover on every end, and you knew that by being there, that was your way of cheering him on wholeheartedly. 

Noa takes the itinerary from you, and he sighs deeply at the horrid hours and his unforgiving schedule. “Again, if it’s too much, you don’t have to feel obligated to follow me-”

“-Don’t you dare start on that lecture again!” You cut him off, placing your hands on your hips. “I want to go with you. I want to go to every single game you’re in, and it doesn’t matter to me if you score a million goals or if you’re sitting on the bench. Being there for you is the least that I can do.”

Noa smiles warmly, and he pulls you close to him and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. His chest fills with pride at your determination to support him. He would be lying if he said that he didn’t like seeing you in the stands, and nothing motivated him more than to know that you’d be waiting for him after every match to embrace him with open arms and tell him how proud you were for doing his best.

“I can’t stop you if you’re dead set on coming with me. Make sure you’re packed and ready though. Clearly we won’t have much time for any leisurely activity.” His voice softens slightly, and he kisses you again. His callous hands brush yours, and he squeezes your palms adoringly. In a hushed tone he reserves solely for you, he whispers, “Thank you for always wanting to be with me.”

x

[utilitycaster]

Sean's general self-loathing is well established, but I think the exact nature of it is something I haven't talked about at length or seen discussed in full elsewhere.

At first glance it may seem as though "just fighting squid dogs until I'm dead" and Sean's willingness to go down swinging, throwing himself at most threats, stem from him wishing for a heroic death, but I don't think this is the case. He'd like it - it would give Bee a good thing to tell his mother, for whatever that's worth - but the truth is something he says elsewhere: "No shit. I'm a monster too."

Sean is not terribly worried about harm to himself. It is tempting to assume that his decision to throw the gun down the drain is about wishing to stop himself from using it for suicidal impulses; but I don't think it is. He's worried about using it on others. He throws it away immediately after he envisions the letter in which his mother accuses him of killing innocents and flashes back; later, he acknowledges that had he had a gun, he might have shot Lucas: "I'm not holding a weapon right now, so when my right index finger twitches, nothing happens."

It's helpful to understand Sean in terms of two of the people who come closest to understanding him: Bee and Nathaniel.

Bee, on the surface, has a lot in common with him: both lost their entire family, one way or another, other than each other, Marion, and Peggy (who they did, in a way, lose) and their homes in the war. Bee understands Sean's past - him as a boy, before all of this - in a way no one else can, since Marion was also himself quite young. The difference, however, is that Bee wants to return to that past - and, to be honest, that would fix the majority of her problems. Were Bee's husband to still be alive? Were she to have her home again? That's what she wants! That would be life-changing! And so she thinks about happier times, and urges Sean to go back to a more innocent time, and blames Nathaniel as a figurehead for the war that took this from them.

The problem is that Sean's problem, in the end, is that he went to war and found out he was the kind of person who'd kill things that look like children. He doesn't think they were real children, maybe, but some days he's not sure. His worst fear is that his mother would know precisely what he did with NoMAD, in Ghost company, and he believes she'd hate him for it. If Sean had an apartment? If Sean's mother were out and living in her tenement? Hell, if his brothers were alive? This would not change. It certainly doesn't help, that there's immense loss and poverty on top of all that, but in the end, Sean does not trust himself to make choices, believes it to be only a matter of time before he hurts someone again (to the point that I wonder if this is why he's avoiding his mother, or if it's because that if he spends more time with her she might realize who he is now), and now sees himself, in a way, as, well, kind of like a squid dog - can be tasked to be a protector, but corruptible, easy to turn, and liable to bite those on the same side.

Sean explicitly equates death as freedom from having to make decisions - because he believes he will make wrong ones.

Nathaniel, on the other hand, is much more ignorant of Sean's material losses - he is unaware Sean is living at the chapter house nor does he know about his mother - but what Nathaniel does share, and Bee does not, is that sense of identity shaped by a specific action (or in Nathaniel's case, inaction). Nathaniel thinks himself a coward because he did not save his older brother from drowning; it defines him perhaps even more profoundly than the war (though his response to his officer's pistol indicates the war left plenty of marks on him as well).

Nathaniel might not know the details of Sean's connection to baseball in the same way Bee does (though, notably, they are the only two to engage with it; Jean and Marion haven't). It's not clear if Nathaniel knows quite what happened in Ghost Company either - it's not even stated if Sean came to Echo Company before, or after, though it really only makes sense after. However, he does understand someone who doesn't think they will make the correct choices; he understands guilt and self-loathing in a way Bee does not. He understands being the surviving child and believing your parents got the worse deal out of that. And so it's Nathaniel who understands the importance of giving Sean orders, and the (temporary and false) absolution even an imperfect institution and the identities it confers provides.

Nathaniel's issues with himself are not on the same level as Sean's - he seems to have come to a place of "I'm a coward, and would prefer not to be, but at least I'm attempting to use what skills I have" [ignore whether or not he's actually a coward, that doesn't ultimately matter in this discussion, the same way that it doesn't matter that Sean bought his sick brother a hat with his paltry spending money] whereas Sean is actively opposing any indication that he isn't a monster, or at best a weapon. But he does understand that Sean's issues come from a similar place and how to live with them - which is something Sean does not yet see as a possibility.

[yourpicasso25]

I will tell you a secret...

It's an easy but important one. So, question: Put 2 (or more) French people at a table. What are they going to talk about?

Fashion? It would depress most of us, especially not rake thin women 40s or older (and swimming costumes are NEVER to be mentionned, it's bordering on hanging offense)

Politics? first, we're irritable and sorta cranky by nature... but we're not crazy (mostly. Sorta)

Any ideas? (no peeking, and tell me what you guessed in the comments)

Done?

So let me tell you: Put 2 or more French people around a table, and what they will talk about is:

What they are eating right this minute, what they ate (any day any time from yesterday to 25 years ago), what they will eat in the more or less distant future.

Food (and drinks because they are related... no seriously) is a very VERY important business in France.

And one key element of that are the markets

Most small towns have permanent markets, mostly build in the 19th century in glass and iron structure like the Pavillons Baltard in Paris

There are permanent foodstall, jams and delicacy homemade cakes ans speciality local produces (and fish, of course!)

Then there are Market days. Twice a week.

And those are IMPORTANT days, people.

Because it's the place where you find the best produce, the tomatoes that graw up 2 miles away and the local honey that you can be pretty sure is actual bee vomit and not artifially colored glucose sirup (I was sooo angry when I learned that one)

So I'm giving you TWO markets. The everyday, business as usual one AND the market day one when everyone goes there with a couple of baskets to refuel both stomachs and conversation topics.

Next is this place, a big old town building

It has a shop downstair shop and a local on the first floor (I'm thinfing Yoga), a NPS lodging, an a big duplex appartment... with terrace, if you please.

The owners are well traveled, and settled in Voegel because they couldn't even dream to have that kind of flat in Paris (more like a broom closet)

There is an office, a VERY teenage girl bedroom with all sort of pop idols posters (mom despair... what happened to her little girl? Puberty, m'am), the aging (NOOOOO!) couple bedroom and a smallish but aquequate bathroom.

And a somewhat messy kitchen.

I'm getting vibes of a couple of 50 ish, Bobo Parisien, quite artistically inclined and maybe a bit snobbis, with limited artistic success so dad works as local newspaper photograph and mom mans the shop and gives yoga classes on the side.

Their daughter litterally CAN'T WAIT to leave that backmater island do go to University on the continent.

Isn't it funny how history can repeat itself sometimes?