#or that no one accidentally knocks into them

[tinycoffeeroom]

girlfriend of the enemy | charles leclerc

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

tags: max verstappen x reader, thoughts of infidelity, max sucks a lil in this i'm sorry

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You knew the novelty had worn off. Max was known for picking up things that were shiny and brand new to him and dropping them without a moment's notice. You just never thought you would be one of them. The two of you had met in the paddock, you having been invited by your reporter friends. Instantly the two of you had hit it off, chatting the whole night and enjoying each other's company. 

That was 7 years ago. 

Now the two of you were attending the end of the race year celebrations but you may as well be strangers. 

He’d swirled you around his friends, eye candy on his arm to match the fact that his face was plastered across the entire room. After he was sure everyone had seen the two of you together, he subtly brushed your arm off and went to talk with Daniel and Checo who were standing by the bar. 

Taking a seat at one of the tables strewn out across the large dance hall, you picked nervously at the acrylics on your nails. Max knew events like this made you nervous, with the large crowds full of people you barely knew. At the start of your relationship, he never used to leave you alone, constantly having a hand around your waist or resting on your knee so you knew he was there, but it was as if he no longer cared. You hated this side of him, missing the funny and attentive man you fell in love with. 

Drivers passed back and forth behind your chair, often bumping it accidentally as they walked, too deep in conversation with their walking buddy to notice they had knocked you. It had been at least 2 hours since you had seen Max, having watched him stalk off to a dark corner with the two men he was chatting with at the bar. You knew you looked miserable, but you were so tired of hiding how you truly felt, how Max made you feel. 

A hand brushes the back of your chair as someone takes a seat beside you. A soft voice barely audible over the loud music pumping through the room, close enough that their breath brushes across your neck. 

“Not having fun?”

You jump at the proximity, whipping round to come face to face with Max’s longtime frenemy, Charles Leclerc. He simply smiled, either not noticing how close the two of you were or simply ignoring it.  

You’d come to know Charles through the years you’d spent as a wag. He was always polite, full of kind smiles and funny anecdotes. You knew he wasn’t a fan of these things either, choosing to excuse himself early, either with his teammates or Oscar whenever things got a little too raucous. His two closest friends on the grid, Daniel and George, were more open to the party atmosphere, often getting to the point of drunkenness where you had to mother them a little, rounding up the giggling boys and wrestling them into an Uber. 

You loved chatting with the group of friends, never having a dull moment as each of them tried to outdo the other with a joke or a roast. However, you were always a little more drawn to the Monagesque, finding his warm voice and awkward jokes lightened the tension that festered deep inside whenever Max abandoned you at one of these events. 

You smiled back at Charles in the present, toying with the Tiffany bracelet around your wrist. “Not particularly. Never really liked these kind of events.”

If it was anyone else who had asked, you would have lied. Various excuses of not feeling well or simply needing a moment to yourself, but Charles had never once shown judgement towards your lack of enthusiasm for these nights. 

“Where’s Max?” His eyes flick around the room, elbow coming to rest on the bar. He must realise his mistake straight away as he pulls away, the stickiness of the counter following him. 

You sigh, reaching to drain the last of your mojito. “Fuck knows. Last time I saw him was just after 9.” 

He raises his eyebrows, turning to catch the attention of the bar staff. “Another mojito and a vodka soda, please.” Turning back to you, he checks his watch. “It’s 2am.”

You return the eyebrow raise, welcoming the new drink he hands you. “Yeah, it is. He’s probably with Daniel and Checo if you want him.” 

You were used to people approaching you just to get to the other. Nothing new but it still irked you a little that you were only ever seen as an extension of the great Max Verstappen, never just y/n l/n. 

Smiling softly, he raises his glass for you to clink yours against. “Nah, I’m fine where I am.”

–

The hours passed quickly, the two of you hunched over the bar as you tried to make out what the other was saying over the loud bass of the music. You could lie and say your heart didn’t flutter every time he laughed, eyes sparkling as he listened intently to every dumb joke you made. It made you feel a little bit sick, the butterflies in your tummy stabbing tiny little daggers into you as you try to remember the last time Max had ever spent time with you like this. 

He was a busy man, with the racing and Twitch and the various other events Redbull required him to do, the two of you rarely saw each other. You tried to organise monthly date nights in order to reignite the spark you once had but every time Max texted that he couldn’t come, not even mentioning the word sorry, you felt a little piece of your heart fall away. 

Through some kind of sick manifestation, Max rounded the corner of the bar, flagged by a barely conscious Daniel and a still chipper Checo. 

“Charles! Nice to see you!” Checo was his ever lovely self, dapping Charles up and pulling him into a brief hug. Daniel barely acknowledged either of you, slumping into the chair on the other side of you and drunkenly resting his head on the back of your shoulder. Max was neutral, eyes darting between the two of you. 

“Yeah, nice to see you Charles. I see you’ve met my Mrs.”

You hated that term. “Mrs”. Maybe if he showed any kind of interest in actually taking the next step and marrying you after 7 years together maybe you wouldn’t mind. He knew you hated it to some extent, having used it often as a joke in media events to make you roll your eyes and send him a cheeky text. But now the word just grated you, imaginary hackles rising at his standoffish tone. 

Charles smiles at the two, briefly eyeing Daniel from where he was snoring on your shoulder. “Yeah, me and y/n have met quite a few times at these things. Normally when I’m too tired to deal with Daniel and George’s shit.” He aims the last sentence towards you, joining you in a small chuckle. 

Max laughed sarcastically, hand coming to grip your free shoulder. The strength of it made you shrink slightly, hating the possessiveness it held. “Well, it’s getting late, I better get her home.” His head nods down at you, the resignation in his voice a poor attempt at humour but it lands flat. 

Charles eyes him, then the hand gripped harshly on your shoulder and finally lands on you, eyes warm with a tint of ice. “Sure. It was nice to chat to you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” He rises from his seat, hand raised to deliver a half hearted fist bump to Max and Checo before he disappears, swallowed by the horde of people still present at the event. 

You grab your bag as Max shakes the sleeping Daniel on your shoulder. The two of you work side by side to sling an arm of Daniel’s around each of your shoulders, Max thankfully taking the brunt of the weight. Silently, you make your way to Max’s car, humming at the drunken gibberish from the man hanging between the two of you. 

As you settle into the passenger's seat of Max’s car, you can’t help but wish it was Charles sliding in beside you. 

–

👤 maxverstappen1 Liked by redbullracing, charles_leclerc and 592,048 others

y/nstagram eindejaarsfeest met mijn lief en jouw wereldkampioen ♥️ (end of year party with my love and your world champion)

fan she’s so gorgeous, maxverstappen1 can you fight? ♥️ 39,927 others

redbullracing never mind the trophy, we think you’re the real prize ↳ fan damn admin got rizz ↳ redbullracing 😎

fan why does max never like her photos anymore i miss the “here before the dutchman” jokes ↳ fan they’ve been together 7 years maybe the honeymoon phase has just worn off? ↳ fan idk even when we see them in the paddock he brushes her off all the time  ↳ fan i thought we all agreed to stop prying into their relationship?  ↳ fan true but 7 years and no ring?? I’d have wifed her up immediately 

charles_leclerc si belle ↳ y/nstagram merci charlie :) ↳ fan ariana what are you doing here?  ↳ fan he’s been in her likes / comments since he joined f1, i’m pretty sure they’re friends ↳ fan he always comments “beautiful” or smth sappy on her posts… ngl i kinda ship them ↳ fan saying that on a post where she’s just called max her love… seek help ↳ fan damn sorry that i just wanna see her be treated the way she deserves???? She posts max nearly weekly and the last time she graced his ig was like 6 months back ??? AND he never likes / comments on her posts even when she tags him AND he ignores her in the paddock like all the time ↳ fan he’s a 4x world champion and the face of redbull, he’s a busy man damn 

-

-

Another country, another race, another day of Max ignoring you. You’d always been understanding of the fact that, as the current world champion, he had a lot of pressure on his rather wide shoulders. People called for him wherever he turned and he’d follow, giving piece by piece of him to whoever needed his attention. Race engineers, press, other drivers, even Christian himself. In the earlier years, he’d drag you along with him, hand wrapped firmly around yours as he discussed better ways to reduce drag or answer the same god damn question from the same 10 faces you saw at every race. 

Nowadays, he’d barely look your way as he gets out of the car, instead letting you roam around of your own volition. You often found yourself walking up and down the paddock, looking at all the other drivers who would throw a loving glance to their girlfriends as they rush around their garages, or drop a small kiss to the crown of their heads as they pass by to the back rooms or even something as small as readjusting their stance as they spoke to their engineers so they could press a thigh or an arm against their other half. 

So far you’d passed Alpine; exchanging quick hugs with Kika and Flavy before they went to the back rooms, McLaren; where Lando and you had exchanged a quick fist bump whilst you swiped away his questions about Max’s whereabouts, and Haas where both Kevin and Nico had waved brightly at you as they entertained their children on the garage floor. Looking up, you find yourself standing in front of the Ferrari garages. More specifically, in front of Charles’. 

Whether the halt in your footsteps has been subconscious or not, you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping for a glimpse of Charles. Flashes of red passed your vision, engineers and strategists moving amongst one another like a well oiled machine, but no sign of white fireproofs or padded red race suits. 

Sighing softly, you turn on your heels, ready to head back to the Red Bull garages where you’ll inevitably end up being forced into putting on a headset and a fake smile when it’s race time. 

Eyes focused on the ground, you walk slowly away from the Ferrari garages, not wanting to see all the loving couples around you. Only three steps down, a pair of race boots pop up in your vision, eyes trailing up until you meet Charles’ worried gaze. 

“Y/N, what are you doing all the way over here? It’s nearly race time?” His head quirks a little to the left, reminding you of an inquisitive puppy. 

It’s enough to bring a small smile to your face, eyes flicking over his face. “Hey Charles. Honestly, I didn’t even realise I’d made it this far into enemy territory until I looked up and saw your garage.” 

He matches your teasing smile, nudging his foot with one of yours playfully. “I wouldn’t say enemy, just unfamiliar.” He takes a moment to give you a once over, eyes clinging to the ever present furrow of your brows. “Where’s Max?”

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you huff quietly. “God knows. Last I saw, he was in a very heated debate with GP, something to do with the rear wing.”

He nods in response. “Does he know you’re in enemy territory?” He teases softly, aware of the way your expression darkened at the mention of your boyfriend. 

“I don’t think he would realise if I upped and left to be honest.” The second you said it, you regretted it. Charles has enough to worry about on race day without you piling your relationship problems onto him. “Sorry, ignore me. Must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed or something.” You laugh unconvincingly, trying to avoid his knowing eyes. 

He’s quiet for a moment, pensive silence spreading between the two of you. It makes your skin crawl, all too aware that he was probably already clued into your crumbling relationship. You wanted him to make a joke, to nudge his shoulder with yours as he quips about how you should join the other side for once. You wanted him to make you smile, knowing he’s been the only one to do so in so many years. 

A knot sits heavy in your stomach. Wanting another man to make you smile like your boyfriend isn’t standing 20 feet away. Another man who was the best friend of your boyfriend. 

Yours and Max’s relationship wasn’t all arguing and sneaking into bed whilst the other slept far on the other side, but the only times he made you laugh recently was in front of cameras, smiles too large and laughter too loud to be believable to either of you. 

With Charles, it was easy. Almost like breathing. He was still a little awkward with you, jokes sometimes landing flat but the way he would wince and chuckle at his own bad lines were enough to have you laughing loudly and unapologetically. 

You needed to get out of here before you said or did something you’d regret. Luckily, Xavi came to your rescue, spotting Charles out on the paddock and rushing over to sling a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Charles, vamos! We have to get ready for the race. Sorry to steal him from you, Y/N, but I can’t risk him sharing trade secrets with the girlfriend of the enemy.” He pairs the teasing jab with a wink at both of you, the arm hooked around Charles’ neck pulling him gently away. 

Charles’ throws a smile over his shoulder, waving a hand goodbye as he’s dragged into conversation with Xavi. You wave back, energy not quite matching his. 

It was a throwaway comment, something every team said when you’d chat with their racers, normally coupled with a squeeze of the shoulder or a friendly grin. Charles had even said the same thing himself two minutes prior. But something about it being Charles’ race engineer left a sour taste in your mouth. 

To Charles, you were just the girlfriend of the “enemy”, and that’s all you could be. 

-

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a/n: i swear i'm working on a happier one for charles' monaco win buuuut before i spend another 2 weeks finishing this off - anyone interested in a part 2?

[somanystars]

in the secret good s16 of supernatural tfw 2.0 would go to a grocery store

NOT a conveniance store

a grocery store

-sam would get jack into the cart (jack just teleports in) and then pushes him down the aisles super fast. he loved doing it with dean as a kid and now he gets to do it with jack. they nearly run over dean at one point and dean tells them off for it, calling them a public nuisance ("like you're one to talk" "shut UP sam") and as revenge they wait until dean and cas are standing right next to each other and run at dean like they're jousting. dean falls trying not to get run over, into cas who is ofc an Angelic Tank and doesn't even flinch when he catches dean. cue the most flustered man in existence in front of the knock-off cereal brands bc my god he never learned to emotionally regulate.

-you would think sam and dean would be the ones arguing about healthy vs tasty food. wrong. sam knows his brother is a stubborn ass and just sneaks healthy food into the cart. (he has a system. he also has a farmer's market he runs off to once in a while.) dean and CAS on the other hand are bickering in every. single. aisle about every. single. item. cas is trying to make sure heart disease doesn't kill the man who refused to kill God. dean is trying to exercise his new found free will. this is flirting for them.

-jack finds an employee restocking an aisle and strikes up a conversation with them. this of course leads to him helping restock a whole section of the aisle because "of course i helped them! i wasn't doing anything else!" eventually they end up seated on the floor criss cross applesauce talking about the DEEPEST MOST RANDOM SHIT. anyways jack likes them so much they win the lottery the next day.

-cas wanders into the freezers because it's "refreshing." dean only realizes this when he pulls a a carton of milk out of the fridge and sees cas staring back at him. he ALMOST pulls out his gun.

-obligatory "sam gets hit on by an older woman" thing but he is ENGAGED and flashes his engagement ring (eileen proposed to him because fuck gender roles because i said so. he cried. dean will deny it but he cried when eileen asked him for sam's hand. gd now i wanna write that. fuck.) anyways this does not stop the older woman and sam sighs. cas rescues him.

-cas accidentally leaves the store with his coat loaded with random stuff. dean sighs and concludes that stealing from a chain grocery store is not the worst thing they've ever done.

-cas sees that the last thing of an item dean wanted sitting in an unattended cart and...takes it out. and gets accosted by a person because yeah that's their cart but cas sacrificed heaven and his life and his wings for humanity (read: singular human but still) and thinks he can have the last jar of strawberry jam. dean hears them from 2 aisles over and sighs.

okay now. if this gets to 100 notes ill write+post a full fic to ao3

[falinewluv222]

eddie munson x trailer park princess headcannons

contains: fluff, fem!reader, short and sweet.

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for like 2 years lol.

✮ i feel like the first one is pretty obvious, but he would definitely feed the stray cats in the trailer park. he'd even keep a bag of cat treats on hand so that whenever you came over, you could feed them too. you even gave them all names.

"look eds, it's daisy! she's coming over to me."

"that's daisy? thought that was linda."

"no, linda's got the pink nose."

he'd just nod and smile fondly, scratching behind the cats ears.

✮ he'd always try to be super cautious anytime he came into your small bedroom, mindful of your collection of delicate trinkets and such. you once scolded him for accidentally spilling your nail polish all over the carpet.

"eds!! i told you to be careful."

"sorry, princess.. want me to get out?"

with his brown eyes wide, he'd glance at you, accidentally knocking over more items in his frantic scramble to catch them.

✮ of course he'd tease you with the nickname "princess," a playful nod to your slightly primadonna tendencies, yet it always carried a sense of endearment that made it stick.

"how's my princess doing today?"

✮ you loved giving him fashion makeovers, often applying eyeliner before his gigs at the hideout. despite his initial grumbling, he'd always let you. patiently waiting as he tried to suppress a smile at your focused expression. it always led to fits of giggles from you, which was music to his ears.

"you look awesome eds, do you like it?"

"baby, i look like nikki sixx.."

✮ you'd often wander over to keep him company in the front yard while he worked on his van, his sun-kissed skin dotted with freckles. and he'd always pour you an ice-cold glass of cola, especially as his side of the tracks heated up later in the day.

"need any help?"

"nah, i got it. wouldn't want my princess getting her hands all dirty now, would i?"

✮ he'd occasionally give you money from the proceeds of his drug sales so you could indulge in your shopping. after a day of splurging, you'd excitedly return to him, eagerly showing off all your new purchases.

"and then i got this miniskirt.."

"mmm it's pretty, baby. can't wait to ruin it later."

[theaceace]

I know that canonically (show-wise, at least) St Hilarion's worked to cover up Charles' death, and nothing was ever really done about the disappearance of Edwin and the other boys, but even so, do you think the school has a reputation for being haunted??

I'm imagining Niko following various ghost-hunter groups online, especially when the agency doesn't have many cases going on, and occasionally the boys will mirror hop over to an interesting-sounding location, and they'll even get a real case as a result

So when she tells them that one of the teams is planning to investigate St Hilarion's (either it's been closed for a while or they have special permission to go during the summer holidays), Edwin and Charles steel themselves and decide to go, in case there are other ghosts there that need help ('can't imagine a worse place to be trapped for the rest of my afterlife' says Charles, who has been to literal hell. Edwin, who spent 70 years in literal hell, agrees)

So they go, with Niko and Crystal as moral/emotional support, except when they get there they realise they've fucked up and are there on the same day/night as the ghost hunters. They could come back some other time, but what if there really are ghosts here that are suffering? No one wants to take that chance, so Crystal uses her powers to convince them that she and Niko are there for work experience, or are friends of a friend, or are here to replace one of the tech guys who called in sick

Both Charles and Edwin are tense and uncomfortable returning to the place they died - Edwin had gone there after he escaped Hell because he didn't know where else to go, but they've built themselves a home now with the agency. This isn't like before, when it was the closest place to familiar he could find. Charles, meanwhile, feels colder and colder the longer they're there - his hair is wet, there are bruises flaring and spreading, and a faint rattle in his chest that would have become pneumonia if he'd lived long enough

But they need to be sure there aren't any other lost ghosts stuck here that need their help crossing over, so they keep going

(maybe, as a consequence of a door to hell being opened in the school, there are unusual happenings, maybe there's still a place where the line between earth and hell is very thin, maybe there's some fragment of a demon left behind, and they can do something about it)

Anyway, the most important thing is that Charles, either accidentally or in a fit of pique at the whole situation, knocks something over just as one of the paranormal investigators is asking for spirits to make their presence known. In fact, this happens repeatedly - the boys move things, change things around, their presence is detected somehow with the equipment. Crystal and Niko are doing their best to distract the team and ruin as much of the footage as possible, and at least once the boys do something on purpose, maybe because someone is being a creep to the girls (and yes, they both know that Crystal and Niko are more than capable of taking care of themselves, but this way scares the asshole more and is also funnier), and then also to fuck with their readings

Anyway, it's coming to the end of the night, the problem has been identified, and whaddaya knows, of course it's in the attic where they both died. This is fine, why wouldn't it be fine. They get started, draw some (invisible, ghostly) runes and start working their magic when, of course, the paranormal investigators turn up, because this is thought to be the most 'active' area of the school, and the body of a schoolboy was found here in the 80s

Yeah, they try to contact 'any of the boys who disappeared in 1916' and Charles. It would be fine if they weren't so irritatingly loud, Edwin's trying to concentrate, and Charles is now shivering and dripping wet, but they managed to ignore the team right up until they start speculating that Charles was killed by one of the angry spirits from 1916

At which point, Charles - half visible, clearly enraged, looking very much like the half-drowned and frozen kid he was, like a proper ghost - tells them to fuck off already before they get hurt, they don't understand anything, and how dare they give a shit now when it's too late

Which is, of course, the exact moment Edwin finishes the spell, and causes some sort of a magical rebound that fritzes the cameras for a second, throws furniture around, and knocks them all flying. When the cameras start up again, they catch Edwin kneeling by Charles, holding his hand, and softly telling him that it's ok, it's over, they can go now. Charles sniffs and smiles and knocks their foreheads together and says yeah, let's get out of here, and together they fade from view

The investigators think this means gay love can pierce the veil of death and save the day that now that the truth of their story is known the ghosts have moved on, and it's all thanks to them! How beautiful, how wonderful, how affirming! Perhaps one of the boys from 1916 tried to help Charles, and when that didn't work, they both stayed to try and protect other people from these violent spirits, and now their unfinished business is finished! It's so tragic and touching story

Charles and Edwin, who are putting their tools back in the backpack, roll their eyes and smile at each other

On the way out, Charles swipes the memory cards from the cameras, Edwin inscribes a couple of sneaky runes on various pieces of equipment to fuck with it, and Crystal uses her powers to make sure they all remember a couple of details differently, so later they won't be able to agree on a bunch of stuff

The episode they were trying to make can't be released, their social media posts about the experience are full of details that don't match up, and fans are bitterly disappointed

Crystal and Niko watch the footage Charles stole with Jenny and the Night Nurse back at the agency. Jenny turns it into a drinking game. Charles does a dramatic reading of the posts with added commentary while Edwin pretends he's not laughing. They buy t-shirts of the paranormal investigators and wear them ironically. They leave anonymous comments

Just. The dead boy detectives having to work around ghost hunters, in a world where ghosts definitely, tangibly exist

[blue-jisungs]

hello! i hope 2024 has been treating u well!

can i request where jaemin is ur new roommate and ur sorta pessimistic abt him for awhile cuz of his cats? then one day its just u and his cats and then u start warming up to them, not knowing that jaemin was watching the whole time please!

so sorry if this is too specific but thank u if u see this!!

cats and pizza

author's note. hi anonnie! sorry it took so long :( 2024 has been quite nice for me teehee, i hope it has been for u too <3 also this was so fun to write as someone who absolutely adores cats 😭

setting. vet med student !jaem x fashion designer student!yn

warnings. one of the cats pisses lol, pizza, swearing, yn doesn’t like cats and talks bad about them >:(

“oh come on, it’ll be fine! he looks nice and he’s a veterinary medicine student? come on, he must be… normal… i think” renjun hummed, looking through your shoulder at the text you got.

you rested your forehead against his arm and groaned while he took your phone and replied to the message.

“you need a roommate. stop being picky… besides, he’s not gonna be any weirder than the chenle guy… probably. hopefully” renjun cheered you on and patted your head.

your previous roommate, karina, had to move out so now you were in a desperate search of someone at her place because there’s no way you could single-handedly afford the rent. the landlord didn’t mind as long as it was paid so you could choose whoever you wanted.

but once you put the offer online, the amount of people and interviews crushed you. the rent was almost due and you had to hurry up – but it wasn’t your fault that all the interested individuals were… specific.

but getting a text from a guy named jaemin drew your attention. he wasn’t dry like all the previous guys and said that he’ll adapt into your schedule to come see the place – unlike others who set up the date and you didn’t have much choice.

you agreed to meet today and brought your bestie, renjun, as a moral support. and additional eye of judgement.

a knock on your door caused you to jerk up.

“it’s probably him” you sighed and ran to open the door “hi—”

your voice got stuck in your throat as your eyes met with a very handsome guy. a gummy smile bloomed on his lips as he reached his hand out.

“hi, i’m na jaemin! y/n, i assume?” he asked, voice full of positive energy. renjun appeared behind you.

“i… oh, right, you know my name. yes, y/n” you cleared your throat and shook his hand. it was warm and bigger than yours.

“renjun” your friend grunted and accidentally nudged your shoulder.

“i’ll show you around. do you want some water or anything to drink?” you asked nicely, stepping aside to let him in. while jaemin and you couldn’t take your eyes off each other, renjun let out a sigh.

“do you have any questions?” your friend asked, crossing his arms.

“oh, yeah! are pets allowed? cats specifically?” jasmin asked and you froze.

well, technically yes.

but you just weren’t a big fan of felines. they are just… mean. and ignorant.

but jaemin is so cute and–

“no”

“yes”

you looked at renjun surprised when you two spoke out at the same time. jaemin laughed (and goodness, if it wasn’t the prettiest thing you’ve ever heard), throwing his head back slightly.

“yes they are. i’m just more of a dog person, you see” you hummed. jaemin sent you a warm smile.

“don’t worry, they’re lovely” he reassured you and renjun urged to show him the room.

and you blame renjun to this day for that because if you were to listen, you would’ve paid attention and noticed that jaemin had said ‘they’.

was one of your main factors to settle for jaemin the fact that he was charming and handsome? yes. did you think he only has one cat? yes.

much to your surprise, along with a new roommate you got three cats as a bonus.

standing terrified in the middle of kitchen you watched one of them snuggle against your leg as jaemin watched with amusement.

“they are real angels. i promise they won’t cause any trouble” he hummed.

you moved away from the cat but it followed you, looking at you with its big, blue eyes.

“just for the love of god please… make sure they don’t shit in the kitchen. or come anywhere near my room” you murmured, jaw clenched. if that furry thing of a demon is going to brush against you again–

the cat must’ve somehow understood that and it purred, tail wrapping around your leg.

“go… away…” you whined, stepping back yet again.

“luke, c’mon” jaemin sighed and grabbed the cat in his arms. the beast animal was looking at you with a mischievous expression. a shiver run down your spine as you looked away, and a meow came somewhere from the distance.

the sound of happy little feet kept you awake at night. lucy, luna and luke (it was hard not to remember the names since jaemin had them engraved on almost everything) were playing around in the hallway. at 3am.

pressing a pillow to your ear and pulling the duvet over the other, you cursed mentally at your own stupidity. you hated cats, why would you even agree? sure, jaemin is really cool and there certainly is something between you two but the goddamn furry beasts…

a loud meow came from under your door.

and then a scratching sound.

“you have to be kidding me” with a groan, you left the bed and opened the door only to be met with a pair of evil looking cat.

“luna- lucy, whoever you are… get your ass out of here” you grunted and tried to whoosh the cat away. but it only meowed and tried to come into your room “no!”

it was middle of the night, you should be asleep and getting your well needed rest for today’s exam.

but you’re closing the door and fighting with a feline.

great, just great.

“jaemin!” you yelled out, not bothered by the fact that you’ll wake him up “na jaemin, get ahold of your goddamn furry devils!”

you heard his hurried footsteps and when he reached to hold the cat up, you noticed he’s not even angry in the slightest.

“luke, c’mon, no scratching the door. sorry, y/n. sleep well” jaemin hummed softly and walked away with the pet in his arms, scratching it’s head gently.

as much as you’d like to say that you warmed up to the cats it just wasn’t… very true. you just accepted their presence. you even refilled their bowls a couple of times or threw them a squeaky toy.

as long as they didn’t interfere with your personal space, you didn’t with theirs.

which you were glad for.

“i’m back! i have some leftover pizza if you’d like!” you yelled out, not even sure if he was home.

you went to leave the pizza in a safe space (you totally didn’t save it because you knew it was his favorite) and walked towards your room.

something was off - it was very quiet in the apartment. and… it smelled…

pushing the door open you saw lucy jump off your bed.

“what?” you grunted, noticing how the cat ran past you. before you realised the smell, you saw the source: cat urine.

on your uni project.

“no, you’ve got to be shitting me” your voice broke, walking up to the handmade material for a dress. it was certainly pissed on.

but how did the cat end up here? you closed the door to prevent exactly such thing from happening.

tears were falling from your eyes, feeling helpless.

lucy was peeking at you from behind the door cautiously. maybe she sneaked in before you left and then you accidentally locked her in? yeah, that’s the only possible reason.

but that doesn’t make the situation any better (or the cloth any less stinky)

“ew… y/n…”

you heard jaemin’s mocking voice but the moment you turned around and he saw your quivering lip, his face dropped.

“what happened?” jaemin asked, walking in.

“i… lucy peed on my dress… which was my project for tomorrow… i don’t know what to do…” whines and sobs ripped out of your chest. jaemin sighed, eyeing the situation.

the said cat meowed as if saying sorry.

then, you felt two warm arms wrapping around your shaking body.

“it’s going to be fine, i’ve dealt with this countless of times before” he said calmly, fingers caressing your hair “let me handle this”

you sobbed into his chest – maybe from the stress of relief – and jaemin continued to soothe you, his cat watching you two curiously.

this day was shitty as hell. it’s been two weeks since the pee accident and luckily you managed to save your project. and whereas that made your mood lighten up, today was just a bad day.

you lost $20, dropped your phone and cracked its screen, and on your way back home rain started pouring and soaked you completely.

the warmth of your place was nice and made you feel secure. the second you stepped inside, you broke down.

everything just snapped and you sat down on the floor, careless to the fact that all the water is pooling around you.

cries left your lips, tears mixing with the raindrops on your face.

suddenly, something warm and fluffy crawled on your lap.

at first you wanted to push it away but upon meeting luna’s blue eyes staring at you cutely, you didn’t. you let her stay, unsurely resting your hand and her head. when she purred, you took it as a sign to let her.

sobs mixing with purrs drew the other two, lucy snuggling next to you, pawing the material of your sweats, and luke staring at the scene.

the cats silently comforted you, it hit you.

because of that, you started crying even more; feeling bad about the way you treated them before.

the quiet sound of door opening fell deaf on your ears.

jaemin looked down and his heart warmed upon the scene. he was proud of his kids, they reacted the same way he would.

“i have some pizza, i figured you’d want some” he announced quietly and you nodded.

maybe that’s all you needed after all: cats and pizza.

masterlist <3

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu ,, @haecien

[no-see-um-incorrect]

Some highly specific head cannons for my version of darlin (whom I just posted on my art blog)

-the first time Sam saw them struggling to re-shave their undercut. it wasn’t until after five minutes of him leaning against the doorway watching them that they finally asked him for help (he did a very nice clean job and got lots of kisses as a reward)

-all of their tattoos/piercings were done while they were unconscious (consensually obviously) they kinda just napped through them 

-there wolf form is jet black with a little tip of white on their tail

-The only person, and I mean the only person they take orders from in Wolf form is Sam. and if they are in Wolf form at any sort of gathering, they will sit/lay right by his feet. 

-The “weakness alcohol” is whiskey 

-Whenever they’re eating something Sam cooked They will do ✨happy food wiggles✨ and Sam fucking adores it 

-The first time Sam saw them naked wasn’t during their first *Ahem* Time. he first saw them naked when he was helping them get into the bath, after healing their injuries (didn’t want to risk them falling or getting more sore)

-they love knocking shit off of David’s desk…just to be a nuisance

-has beat Asher in a donut eating contest 

-impeccable spice tolerance

-terrified of needles

-accidentally set fire to David’s sink when they were 14 (he still doesn’t know how)

-(I may have said this before) one time at a bar, a random bitch smacked Sam’s ass and Darlin got help from sweetheart to knock their shit in and cuff them to a fire hydrant

-they flip people off front Ways

-they spend so much time with Sam that certain things they say will come out in a southern accent

-allergic to chocolate

————————————————————————

This was fun

I’m going to bed now 



[cottagec0relover21]

Hiii!!! How about Chilchuck teaching you how to pick locks after you got locked inside a chest and the party couldn't find you? This is how he shows that he cares and worries about the reader lol.

With a halfling reader if that's oki with you....

Bonus points if after chatting for a while, they both started talking about locks and keys, not realizing it sounded like a sexual innuendo, then it got awkward lol

"Lost and Found"

[Chilchuck Tims x gn!half-ling!reader]

Warnings: slight sexual innuendo - fluff

You had gone missing. Missing. In the dungeon. From one moment to another you had disappeared from everyone's sight. You had been walking around with the group when you'd spotted a room full of chests and decided to enter to take a look around.

Chilchuck had groaned loudly at all the work Laios intended him to do to open every single one of them.— First of all, what if one of these is a mimic?!— Chikchuck protested, pointing a finger up towards the tall-man's face. Honestly he had a really good point.

That's when from behind them, they heard (y/n)'s voice speak and a sudden slam. Everyone turned around to see they were gone.

—(y/n)?— Marcille spoke up. Calling them a second time, when they didn't speak up everyone started to panic and look around. Were you outside of the room? Maybe on a room next door? but nothing, you had just dissapeared in the blink of an eye.

Groaning in discomfort and some pain, (y/n) rubbed the back of their head, where they had collided roughly against the inside of the wooden chest. Chilchuck fumbled to grab his tools as Laios, Marcille and Senshi looked at him expectantly when they had heard (y/n) knock from inside of one of the chests, making him even more anxious.

—Let's try this one!— pointed Laios.

—No! I think it's this one!— the mage contradicted him.

—Everyone shut up! Let me hear!— Chilchuck yelled, agitated as he stood silently in the middle of the room.—(y/n) can you knock once again for me?— he raised his voice so they could hear, trying to speak calmly, hoping you were still conscious.

When they knocked on the inside of the chest they had fallen into, Chilchuck hurried to help to unlock it and get them out.— It's okay, I'm here! Can you breathe well? I'm going to get you out! Don't panic!— no one had ever seen Chilchuck so... worried before. So seeing him stumble with his words and fumble with his lockpicking tools made everyone stare at him with curiosity and worry for (y/n).

After a minute or two Chilchuck successfully opened the chest to find them curled up inside. He helped them up and out with a worried expression on their face as he looked over their features. Where you hurt anywhere? How had that even happened in the first place? Was it a monster? Did someone accidentally push you? Did you fall??

—Uh– Chil, I'm okay...— they speak softly, reassuring him as he squished their cheeks to move their head to the side.— I saw a chest was slightly open and I wanted to take a closer look, but somehow I kind of fell in...?— they sheepishly admit with a chuckle.

Chilchuck hits their shoulder, protesting that he was worried. The faint redness on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by the group as he fussed at them. How sweet. And grumpy everyone thought as they watched the scene unfold in front of them. (y/n) couldn't help the giggle that erupted from their lips and hugged Chilchuck by the neck.— It's okay now, thank you for saving me— they speak sweetly, which only makes the half-foot more red in the face as he reciprocates the hugs slowly.

—Don't do that again or I'm not getting you out...— he mumbles, obviously not being serious. They would save them a thousand times if it was ever necessary.

Much later, when dinner was almost served, (y/n) and Chilchuck were sitting aside on the ground, legs crossed as he held up his lockpicking tools for them to see.— Why does the tip look like that?— (y/n) pointed at something the group could not see, for they were sitting with their backs facing them. That made half of the party look up with wide eyes in their direction.

Chilchuck calmly explained— Every keyhole is different, sometimes you need a bigger one, sometimes you need it to curve or to lay flat— he grabs (y/n)'s hand and brings it closer— Here, feel it— as soon as he says that, Senshi coughs loudly, catching their attention.

Both of them turn around— Are you okay, Senshi?— (y/n) asks, noticing everyone's flustered look—...what?—.

—Kids, you should look for some privacy if you're going to be doing such a thing. I understand you're curious, but please respect everyone else in the room— the bearded dwarf speaks, returning his attention to the food. Their cheeks become as red as a pomegranate as Chilchuck protests that, first of all, they're not kids, and second, that's not what's happening at all.

One can't even explain lockpicking in peace anymore, geez.

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

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

Chapter Eighty-One

Before her mind could fully process his presence, Maera’s body reacted. She gently set aside the dragon egg and carefully rose from her seat, her rounded belly leading her movements. Her eyes never left Aemond as she stood, a mix of wariness and longing etched on her face.

Aemond had been gone for five weeks, and Maera could immediately tell he was changed. His face bore the marks of age and fatigue, likely the aftereffects of battle. She had seen it before in some of her oldest brothers—an unmistakable weariness that came from enduring the horrors of war. His meticulously neat silver hair was now curled at the ends, with knots forming throughout, a testament to the hardships he had faced.

Despite her injuries, Maera cautiously limped towards him. Each step was a challenge, yet she pressed on, her heart driving her forward. Aemond strode towards her purposefully, his eyes locked on hers. They met in the middle of the room, capturing each other in a long embrace. The moment was filled with a complex blend of relief, sorrow, and unspoken words, as they held each other tightly.

The Princess squeezed her husband’s waist desperately, as if she never wanted to let him go again. She buried her face in his chest, and tears began to flow freely. The sobs that wracked her body were silent but profound, each one a release of the pent-up emotions that had built during his absence. She inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar smell of dragon smoke and leather, grounding herself in the reality that he was truly back.

Aemond's hand gently combed through her hair, offering a soothing counterpoint to her grief. He pressed kisses on the top of her head, each one a tender affirmation of his presence and his relief at their reunion. His breathing was short and shallow, mirroring the intensity of the moment, as he too was consumed by the emotion of finally being together again. They stood entwined, both finding solace in the embrace, a fragile yet powerful connection rekindled amidst their shared pain and love. But then the facade cracked.

“Ahhhh!!”

Aemond attempted to hold Maera even tighter, but in doing so, he accidentally knocked the healing wound on her upper arm. With a yelp, she jumped back from him, her other hand instinctively coming up to cover the wound. She shoved his chest away in the process, her face contorted with pain as she breathed deeply through her nose, trying to stave off the wave of nausea that the sudden pressure had caused.

After a moment of regaining control, Maera looked up to find her husband staring at her with deep concern. His single eye roamed over her body, searching for any other signs of distress or injury. The worry etched on his face was unmistakable, a testament to his guilt and fear for her well-being. Before he could ask any questions, Maera gestured for him to join her seated at the hearth. He nodded in agreement and allowed her to lead the way, his gaze following her every movement. He watched as she limped and grasped tightly onto the furniture for support, each step a visible effort.

As the pair sat together, a hushed silence enveloped them, broken only by the crackling of the hearth. The warm, flickering light cast dancing shadows across the room, creating an almost intimate cocoon of peace amidst the chaos of their reunion. Maera turned to look at Aemond's face, the flames casting shifting shadows across his sharp features. His expression was a mix of concern and remorse, his violet eye focused intently on the flames.

Within Maera, a confusing concoction of feelings churned. She was grateful he was alive, thankful that he had returned to her relatively unscathed. The mere thought of receiving news that he had come to harm filled her with dread. The relief of his presence was palpable, a balm to the wounds of worry that had plagued her during his absence.

Yet, even amidst this relief, the anger within her continued to simmer. She could not forgive him for what he had put her through, the betrayal and the pain still fresh in her heart. The conflicting emotions battled within her, gratitude and love warring with hurt and fury, leaving her in a state of numbness overall.

The One-eyed Prince was the first to speak. “Are you well?” He asked.

His wife did not answer him. She feared that responding might unleash her fury, and once started, she wasn't sure she could stop. She was exhausted, as she so often was nowadays in the late stages of pregnancy, and she did not need him adding to her weariness. Not tonight.

Maera's green eyes wandered over his form, taking in his attire, which struck her as different. He wore a black leather belt and an eyepatch, and his boots gleamed in the firelight, polished to a high shine. His tunic, however, was not the black she was accustomed to seeing him in; it was a rich, deep green.

This confused her. All of Alicent Hightower’s children had traditionally donned green attire, but never Aemond. He had always stood out from his family, consistently clad in black leather. She couldn't help but wonder about the significance of this sudden change, a small but unsettling detail in the midst of their already fraught reunion.

Her eyes continued to explore his body, eventually landing on his gloved hands, where she then noticed he was holding something. In Aemond’s grip was the Conqueror’s crown, the Valyrian steel and ruby gemstone glinting in the hearth’s light.

“Why do you have that?” She asked him meekly, her voice tinged with concern. Aemond looked down at the crown, his expression distant as he turned it in his hands, examining it closely. His single violet eye held a depth of sorrow.

“He is gone,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with melancholy.

“Gone?” Maera asked, her brows furrowing in confusion, the implications slowly dawning on her. “Oh Gods.” Her hand flew to her chest as if to steady herself, and her breathing became erratic. The shock of the news hit her like a physical blow, leaving her momentarily breathless.

What she felt was not sadness for Aegon’s demise. In truth, she would not miss her brother-in-law. But with the King dead, she knew that things were about to get a lot more complicated. The stakes had just become much higher, and the already precarious balance of power was now on the brink of upheaval.

Panic crept into her voice as she realized the gravity of the situation. “What happened?” Maera's eyes filled with tears as she awaited her husband's response, her heart heavy with dread.

Aemond took a deep breath, his jaw tensing as he stared into the flickering flames of the hearth, lost in his thoughts. “The original plan was for me to meet Meleys in the sky once Cole ordered the scorpions to fire,” he explained bitterly. “But Aegon just had to be there, had to be a part of it and claim the glory for himself.”

Maera listened in stunned silence, her heart sinking with each word. She could see the pain etched on Aemond's face as he continued. “Sunfyre was so much smaller than Rhaenys’s dragon. What the fuck was he thinking?”

Aemond then turned to look at his wife, his single violet eye burning with intensity. “Meleys had Sunfyre’s neck. There was fire…and so much blood.”

He paused momentarily, his hand gesturing in a slow, deliberate motion, mimicking the descent from above. “I attacked from above and managed to get them to the ground. I knew it was a risk but…”

The Princess’s heart ached for her husband. She had never seen him like this before—a crack in his usually stoic manner, revealing a scared little boy beneath the hardened exterior. Maera initially reached out with the intention of laying her hand atop his, which still gripped the Valyrian steel crown. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that everything would be okay.

“Aemond…” Her hand hovered just above his, the warmth of her intended touch almost tangible.

But then she hesitated. How could she be sure that everything would be alright? Their marriage was far from alright, and the outside world seemed to be descending further into chaos. Doubt and the weight of their unresolved issues clouded her mind. Reluctantly, she pulled her hand back to rest in her lap, choosing instead to quietly listen as her husband continued to speak, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability that tugged at her conflicted heart.

“Sunfyre and Meleys had killed each other. Rhaenys, or what was left of her, was burnt to a crisp on the ground. And Aegon…”

Maera covered her mouth in shock as her husband detailed the horrific scene. “He was still alive. Gods, he looked awful. His armour had fused to his skin.” Aemond paused, his face contorting with disgust. “The smell. He was missing one of his legs…he was crying. Scared.”

Maera took a shaky breath, her heart heavy. Aegon was despicable, but she would never wish such a fate on anyone. She watched as Aemond clenched his jaw, his single violet eye filled with unshed tears. “I stayed with him until he passed, until the light left his eyes. Cole found me shortly after.”

The Princess clenched her fists in her lap. “I am sorry, Aemond. For your loss. And all that you went through.” Aemond looked up at her, his face softening slightly. “Why did you not come back? Why did you not write?” she questioned him.

The one-eyed Prince shifted in his seat, looking down. “I wanted to tell my mother myself.”

A wave of sadness washed over Maera. That could not have been easy for Aemond; to tell his mother that her eldest son, her firstborn child, had died horrifically. She could only imagine the pain it caused him to see the grief in Alicent's eyes, knowing that Aegon's death would spell further complications for the Realm.

Maera knew Alicent would be heartbroken, but her thoughts quickly turned to Helaena. Aegon was a tyrant, her abuser, and yet he was still her husband, her elder brother. Maera hoped that the news would not further worsen Helaena’s already fragile mind. The prospect of another emotional blow to Helaena worried her deeply.

Aegon had only one son, two-year-old Maelor. The little boy was just beginning to form sentences and was still in napkins. With the death of his elder brother Jaehaerys, who had been murdered so easily, the news of Aegon's death would spread quickly, leaving little Maelor even more at risk of harm. Maera's heart ached for the innocent child, now thrust into a perilous position in an increasingly dangerous world.

As these thoughts swirled in her mind, Maera felt the crushing weight of the uncertain future pressing down on her, intensifying the already profound sense of dread that had settled in the room.

“What happens now?” She asked her husband meekly. “Maelor is just a babe…”

“Cole will take my place as Hand,” Aemond declared, his voice steady. “I will regent for Maelor until he comes of age.”

She winced. Her husband was an ambitious man, driven by a lifelong hunger for power as the second son. Now, with a glimpse of authority over the Realm, her unease grew. The thought of Aemond wearing the Conqueror’s crown, combined with Criston Cole as his Hand, made her stomach churn.

Maera could feel his gaze burning into her, almost as if he was expecting a reaction, or possibly words of congratulations, but nothing came out of her mouth. “You have been through a lot husband. It is time for you to rest.” She stood from her chair, smoothing out her gown as Aemond watched. She hobbled to a nearby table, picked up a bell, and rang it. The young maid who always served her appeared immediately, her presence a silent, efficient comfort in the tense atmosphere.

“Prepare a room and a bath for the Prince.”

The serving girl nodded, scurrying away and shutting the door behind her.

The One-Eyed Prince rose from his chair, his expression confused and ever so slightly hurt. “You would not have me in our bed?”

Maera almost felt bad, seeing the raw emotion in his gaze, but she stood her ground, her resolve unwavering. “I require the bed for myself.”

Aemond walked slowly towards her, his hand reaching up to cup her face. She flinched initially, her mind telling her to recoil from his touch but her body immediately relaxed as his calloused palm touched her face. There was silence as Aemond searched her forest green eyes, looking for an explanation or a reason for her conduct that evening, yet Maera bit the inside of her cheek, refusing to budge.

After a moment, Aemond merely nodded. As the door shut behind him, Maera’s heart clenched. She mourned for the relationship they had once shared, a connection now marred by betrayal and pain. Although she was grateful he was back, she also felt a sense of relief that he was now out of her sight.

The next morning, Maera’s rooms were quiet, save for the soft clinking of her cutlery against the bowl. The chambers were filled with the gentle morning light filtering through the windows, casting a warm glow over the array of breakfast items on the table before her. Fresh bread, sliced fruits, cured meats, and cheese were laid out, but her attention was drawn to the raspberry tarts and custard that she now craved with every meal, a particular indulgence of her pregnancy.

Maera smiled to herself as she took a bite of the tart, savoring the sweet and tangy flavors. The babe within her kicked out, causing her to rest her hand on her stomach with a tender expression. The small moment of connection with her unborn child brought her a fleeting sense of joy amidst the surrounding turmoil.

Aemond did not join her to break fast, for which Maera was honestly thankful. The bright light of the day would have made it difficult for her to maintain the illusion of a demure and polite wife. The solitude allowed her a brief respite from the complexities of their strained relationship and the looming responsibilities that weighed heavily on her.

Today would be a good day. Once the maid had cleared Maera’s table, she assisted the Princess in bathing. The warmth of the bath enveloped Maera, providing a soothing comfort that eased her tired muscles. As the maid gently washed her hair with soap, Maera’s fingers danced across her gigantic belly, tracing the stretch marks that decorated her skin. Each mark was a testament to the life growing within her, a visible reminder of the miracle she carried.

When Maera got out of the bath, she sat at her dressing table, wrapped in a robe, as the maid carefully combed through her hair. The blend of brown hair with Maera’s distinctive silver streak shimmered in the morning light. As the maid’s gentle strokes continued, Maera found herself lost in thought, wondering about the baby within her. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would they inherit her brown hair or Aemond’s silver locks? Green eyes or violet eyes? The anticipation and uncertainty of what lay ahead filled her mind, intertwining with her hopes and fears for the future.

The Maester arrived shortly after to re-dress Maera's wounds. As he worked, Maera noted how much stronger she felt on this day. The sharp, shooting pain that had once plagued her thigh and arm had subsided to a dull ache, which she welcomed as a sign of healing. Maester Cain’s gentle and practiced hands made quick work of the bandages, and with a few encouraging words, he departed, leaving Maera feeling more hopeful.

She was then dressed in a loosely fitted black gown that accommodated her growing bump. Her hair was divided into multiple braids before being joined together with a golden ribbon, adding a touch of elegance to her appearance. As she stood from her dressing table, Maera took a moment to admire herself in the mirror. Her body, as well as her mind, had changed so drastically these last few months. The physical transformation was evident, but the internal growth and strength she had gained were even more profound.

Walking through the castle on the arm of Ser Willard was tense, but Maera could not bring herself to care. She had not seen the knight since reprimanding him and his soldiers, and it was clear that he was not happy to be around her. His stiff demeanor and lack of conversation made the tension palpable, but that mattered little to Maera.

As she walked, she noticed that her leg felt stronger, able to bear the weight much better than in previous weeks. The scars on her thigh and arm were still unsightly and would no doubt be with her forever, but she saw them as a testament to her resilience. They were marks of survival, symbols of her ability to endure and overcome.

When they reached the gardens outside Harrenhal, Maera paused to take in the scene. The once scorched lavender field was beginning to show signs of life. In the earth, tiny green buds had started to sprout, a hopeful promise of renewal. The sight of new growth amidst the scars of the past resonated deeply with her, mirroring her own journey of healing and strength.

As Maera walked on the cobblestones, her dragon Ebrion lifted his giant black and blue head and trilled to her, a deep, resonant sound that echoed across the field. Ser Willard was visibly shaken, still haunted by his previous encounter with the beast. Seeing his discomfort, Maera kindly dismissed him back to his post on the edge of the field. This would allow him to keep watch while also giving her some much-needed alone time.

Maera hobbled over to Ebrion, embracing the beast and rubbing her face against the smooth scales of his snout. The warmth and familiar scent of her dragon brought her comfort. She then sat beside him, taking in her surroundings. The sounds of running water from a nearby brook filled her ears, and the wind carried the smell of wildflowers and dragon.

Although it was delightful to see that the earth was healing from Ēbrion’s fire, it did not erase what had happened to her. The scathed body of Alys did not remain, likely consumed by her dragon later. The thought caused Maera to wince, a grim reminder of the brutality she had faced.

Her gaze dritted to the tree where Alys had pinned her, the place where her own blade had sliced through her arm. The wound throbbed at the memory, a dull ache that brought the horror of that moment back to the forefront of her mind. She instinctively covered it with her hand, trying to soothe the pain and the memories it brought.

Maera huffed to herself, frustration bubbling up inside her. She was sick of looking at the place where she had almost died. She was sick of looking at Harrenhal with its ridiculously high walls and towers, the oppressive stone fortress that seemed to trap her in a constant state of dread and sorrow.

Her world felt so small. She only knew the Stormlands and King's Landing, and now the entirety of Westeros was at war. The people she could trust were few and far between, and her marriage was also falling apart. The once solid ground of her life had become a quagmire of uncertainty and betrayal.

She longed to get away from here, to escape the suffocating confines of her current existence. Maybe she could start anew. After all, she was a dragon rider now. She could fly to the Summer Isles, explore the exotic lands of YiTi, or be completely removed from society altogether and venture to the Grey Waste. Anything to get away from here—the war, the constant threat, and her husband.

The thought of freedom, of soaring high above her troubles on Ēbrion’s back, filled her with a sense of hope. She imagined the wind in her hair, the endless horizons stretching out before her, and the possibility of a life unbound by the chains of her current reality.

The Princess rose from the grass and limped slowly towards Ēbrion’s side. She was not dressed for flying, but the loosened robes she wore in the late stages of her pregnancy would be much easier to manage than the elaborate gowns she had previously worn. The fabric billowed around her, giving her the freedom of movement she desperately needed.

Ēbrion raised his massive head, his eyes narrowing with concern. He emitted a low growl, a rumbling warning that vibrated through the air. Maera, determined and resolute, paid no attention. Reaching his side, she reached out and tested the weight of the rope in her right hand. She took a steadying breath. She had done this many times before. She could do it again. Today, she felt stronger.

With a firm pull, Maera lifted her right leg and secured it onto the rope. She smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Then came the tricky part. She reached up with her left arm and grasped tightly, preparing her left leg, hoping that if she made the movements in quick succession, she would be able to haul herself up.

As she pulled, her arm gave way, pain shooting up through it and forcing her to let go. She fell backward onto her backside, her left leg tangled in the rope. She attempted to free herself, but her giant stomach prevented her from reaching her foot. Struggling, she felt a mix of frustration and helplessness.

“Urgghhh for fucks sake!”

Ēbrion leaned down, his large eyes filled with worry as he nudged her gently with his snout, trying to help her up. Maera took a deep breath, calming herself, and tried again to untangle her leg, before a smooth voice cut through the air.

“Do you require some assistance?”

Maera turned her head sharply, expecting to see Ser Willard looking down at her pitifully like the helpless princess everyone seemed to think she was. Instead, she was greeted by the sight of her husband, looming over her.

Aemond had bathed, his silver locks back to their usual straight style. Despite his refreshed appearance, a dark circle under his single eye indicated his lack of sleep. He wore a leather doublet, the torso black but the sleeves dark green and patterned like dragon scales, a testament to his Targaryen heritage and loyalty to the Green’s cause.

He was hiding a small smirk on his face at the sight of his wife tangled in the ropes, which further enraged her. The combination of his amusement and her own frustration fueled a fire within her. She glared up at him, defiance sparking in her green eyes as she struggled to untangle herself from the ropes.

Maera sighed, deciding to put her pride aside for a moment. She blew a strand of brown hair out of her face and angrily gestured towards her foot, indicating she needed help. The Prince nodded, stifling a chuckle as he gently untangled her foot from the ropes. Once her leg was free, he offered his hand to help her up. Maera batted it away, instead using Ēbrion’s nearby foot to push herself to her feet.

After attempting to mount her dragon, Maera looked red-faced and exhausted. The effort had left her breathless and frustrated, angered by her inability to climb onto her dragon’s back. She felt foolish for even trying, her cheeks flushed with both exertion and embarrassment.

To make matters worse, her husband stood in front of her, attempting to act like a chivalrous gentleman. His demeanor, as if trying to return to how things were before, only fueled her anger further. The juxtaposition of her struggle and his composed, almost mocking presence, made her feel even more enraged.

An awkward silence set in. Aemond searched Maera’s face, his eye seeking a glimmer of the warmth they once shared. Her face, however, remained hardened, her expression a mask of resolve and anger. He attempted to reach out, his hand moving to stroke her cheek, but she took a step back, her eyes narrowing, putting a deliberate distance between them.

The Prince returned his arm his side, frowning as he muttered, “Something has changed.”

His wife scoffed, shaking her head. “Everything has changed, Aemond.”

Evidently tired of the games his wife was playing, Aemond's jaw tightened as he closed the gap, his eyes reflecting frustration and confusion. "Since I have returned, no one can give a straight answer," he lamented, his voice strained with emotion. "I have asked the Lords and Maester why you are limping, if anything of note has happened since I have been gone.” He paused for a moment. “If Alys has given birth."

Maera's nails dug into her palm as she suppressed a surge of anger at the mention of the witch's name. Ēbrion growled in response, flaring his nostrils as a puff of smoke escaped, the air around them thickening with tension. The dragon’s agitation mirrored her own, the bond between them so strong that even her suppressed rage resonated with him.

“Jātās,” Go, she commanded him, her voice firm and commanding, unsure if she could trust herself not to lose control and have her beast pick up on her desires to absolutely obliterate her husband. The dragon, sensing her command, rose to his feet and stomped away, the ground trembling beneath them.

As Ēbrion retreated, Maera turned back to her husband. Her eyes were cold and unyielding, reflecting a mixture of hurt, anger, and defiance. She gestured around the desolate field, the remnants of the once-vibrant lavender offering a stark contrast to the present scene. "Look around you, husband. Do you remember what was once here?"

Her gesture was a silent invitation to acknowledge the devastation that had unfolded in his absence. Yet, before Aemond could respond, Maera preempted his words, her tone tinged with bitterness. "It was lavender, so bright and fragrant. I was hoping to use some of it in my labors when my time grew close. But now I cannot stand the smell."

Maera’s gaze shifted to a scorched tree in the distance, her voice tinged with scorn. "I saw your whore, laboring near the elm tree. I stupidly went over to see if she was ok." A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she shook her head. "Do you know what she told me?" Aemond remained silent, his expression unreadable. "That this so-called prophecy she revealed to you…was wrong. Specifically the part I played in it."

She watched her husband’s face. His face was a mix of frustration and resignation, the weight of their strained relationship evident in the way his shoulders slumped slightly.

“So what do you think she did next, my Prince?” Maera questioned sharply, her eyes boring into Aemond's. His confusion spread, evident in the flicker of uncertainty across his features, but he remained silent, awaiting her explanation.

Maera pulled down her sleeve, the fabric of her black robe falling away to reveal the bandaged wound on her arm. With deliberate motions, she removed the bandage, exposing the reddened skin adorned with stitches and dried blood. Aemond's eye widened in shock at the sight. “First she stabbed me in the arm,” Maera growled, her voice edged with bitterness. She then swiftly rolled up her sleeve before bunching up her skirts, revealing another bandage on her left thigh, which she ripped off to reveal an even larger wound. “Then she stabbed me in the leg.”

His gaze locked on the gruesome injury, Aemond remained speechless, his mind undoubtedly racing to comprehend the extent of Maera's ordeal.

Maera's eyes pleaded with him as she continued, desperation lacing her words. “Do you know where she set her sights next?” Still met with silence from her husband, she pressed on. “Our child. She tried to kill me and our child. With my own. Fucking. Dagger,” her voice cracked with emotion, the pain of her trauma palpable in her tone. “It was thanks to Ēbrion that I managed to survive.”

Taking a shaky step forward, Maera reached out to touch Aemond's leather-covered chest, her finger tracing a line across the fabric. “And your whore? Your bastard in her belly?” Her voice lowered to a whisper, her breath ghosting over his lips. “Gone.” The single word hung heavy in the air, pregnant with the weight of their shared loss and betrayal.

Aemond recoiled slightly, the weight of Maera’s words hitting him like a physical blow. He struggled to find the right words to express the depth of his remorse and regret, but the damage had already been done, leaving a chasm between them that seemed impossible to bridge.

She had never seen her husband speechless before, and had it been any other situation, it may have actually been amusing. After a minute of silence, Aemond finally stumbled over his words. His brows furrowed, his violet eye darting around Maera's face as he searched for the right words. “Maera, I did not know-”

She intercepted his attempt to speak, her tone sharp and mocking. “That what? That she would try and hurt me and your child?” She laughed, the sound sharp and bitter. “Then you are truly lacking in common sense.”

Every muscle tensed with suppressed rage as she began to lay into Aemond. Her finger jabbed sharply into his chest with each pointed accusation, her voice a mixture of pain and fury. Her chest heaved as she breathed deeply, attempting to control the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Her eyes, normally so vibrant, were now filled with a mixture of betrayal and hurt.

“Thanks to your delusional belief in that witch, she gained power here. The guards, the Lords both feared and listened to her. All because of you!” Maera's voice wavered with exhaustion as she confessed her regrets. “I should have left Kings Landing on Ēbrion when I had the chance,” she mumbled, her gaze dropping to the ground.

“Do not say such things,” Aemond retorted sharply, his expression hardening.

“Why? Because it will hurt your feelings?” Maera mocked him, her words dripping with disdain.

Aemond’s face hardened as he grabbed her by the wrist of the hand that was jabbing him. He sharply yanked her forward, maintaining a fierce grip as he stared down at her, his single eye blazing with intensity.

“You think I give a shit what that whore did or didn’t say?” Aemond growled, his fingers digging into her skin. “You are mine. You have always been mine. I have always known-”

“Since Alys told you we were bound in order to save her own skin?” Maera interjected, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Aemond's expression softened, the ferocity in his gaze giving way to something more complex, almost pleading. “Since we were children,” he declared, his voice firm, as he loosened the grip of her wrist slightly, the pressure easing but still firm.

His other hand moved with a surprising gentleness, tangling his fingers into the hair at the base of her neck. “Since you first came to Kings Landing as a girl of nine.”

He pulled sharply, forcing Maera to look up at him, the proximity of his presence overwhelming. The feeling of his fingers in her hair, the closeness of his body, sent an involuntary shiver down Maera’s spine. “And I have been yours since I first laid eyes on you.”

Despite the anger and hurt, the familiarity of his touch stirred a conflicting sense of longing within her. Her breath hitched, the intensity of the moment leaving her momentarily speechless. The air between them crackled with unresolved tension, the depth of their connection evident even in the midst of their turmoil.

Aemond brought his head down, pressing his forehead to hers. Maera could not help but lean into his touch, the closeness a balm to her turbulent emotions. His sharp nose bumped against hers as their breaths mingled, creating an intimate cocoon that momentarily shut out the world.

“I do not wish to fight,” he murmured softly.

In that moment, Maera longed to forget everything that had happened between them, to surrender to the comfort her husband's presence provided and move on.

“I do not either,” she whispered sadly. She craved the solace of his embrace, the familiarity of their bond, and the fleeting hope that they could find their way back to each other. But the memories of betrayal and the scars on her heart were too deep. Her heart could not take it.

With a heavy sigh, Maera flattened the hand she had against his chest, slowly pushing him back to create some distance. The gesture was gentle but firm, a silent declaration of her need for space. Aemond's grip on her wrist and hair loosened, and he reluctantly let her go, the warmth of his touch lingering as a reminder of what once was.

“Allow me to explain how things will go from now on,” Maera declared, her tone resolute. The statement caused her husband to frown. “I cannot leave this marriage. Not just because I cannot stand being around you after everything you have done, but because of our child.”

Maera brought her hand to her stomach, a protective gesture. Her babe was the only reason she was acting with civility and goodwill. She would not allow her child to not know their father.

“I will do my duty to you and our House. I will birth your heirs, my dragon will contribute to your war, and I intend to be involved in the Council.” She then closed her eyes and shook her head, her voice filled with sorrow. “But beyond duty…I cannot offer you anything more.”

She glanced up at Aemond, who had a look of devastation on his face. “Maera, please-”

“You drove away my chances with another noble lord because of your possessive nature,” she spat, her eyes flashing with anger. “You murdered my family in the name of a prophecy. You bedded a witch and got her pregnant because of your ambition.” Maera threw her hands up in frustration, her movements sharp and agitated. “You abandoned me here, with the witch having free rein, thus allowing her to try and kill me and our child.”

She felt wet tears begin to roll down her face, but she did not bother to wipe them away. “No. There is nothing left for me to give.”

Aemond, who famously did not know how to handle his emotions, reacted instead out of anger. His jaw clenched, and his eye blazed with a mixture of rage and disbelief. His hands, which had just moments before been tender, now balled into tight fists at his sides. “I will not allow you to do this,” he declared firmly, his voice rising as his nostrils flared as he struggled to contain the storm of emotions brewing within him.

“You are my wife, my Princess. The mother of my child and the love of my life. You cannot simply cast me aside and have us live together in a sham of a marriage.” He took a step forward, his posture aggressive, as if he were ready to physically challenge the reality she was imposing on him.

Maera's face twisted with disdain yet she remained rooted to her spot. “If you need a reason as to why things must be this way, I suggest you look in a mirror,” she sneered at him, her words dripping with contempt as she stared defiantly back at him.

A part of her wanted to cave in, to take back her words and soothe his anger. But she couldn’t forgive and forget. It was as if her heart were made of glass, and every time she entrusted it to Aemond, he would shatter it. No matter how much he tried to piece it back together with apologies or acts of kindness, fragments still remained missing. Even though those pieces were minuscule, it meant her heart could never be whole again.

“I need to go back inside, and have the Maester re-dress these wounds,” she said through gritted teeth.

As she hobbled away, making her way back towards the castle, Maera cast one last look at Aemond. He looked even worse than the day before. His face was a mask of anguish and defeat, the dark circle under his eye more pronounced, his usually immaculate appearance disheveled. The sight tugged at her emotions, but she steeled herself, knowing that preserving her heart and their child’s future was paramount. Her decision, though painful, was necessary.

“I will have the servants move your belongings to a separate chamber.”

Notes: Sorry updates are slow, it’s been a busy week in the Blue household. My son has decided to climb out of his crib, so now he’s having to sleep in a proper bed as well as potty-train himself all in the same week (despite my attempts to previously train him but the kid is so fucking headstrong everything has to be his way and on his terms 🤣) This was so sad to write though 😢

Tags: @0eessirk8 @magicseahorse @blue-serendipity @abecerra611 @saltedcaramelpretzel @marvelescvpe @watercolorskyy @shesjustanothergeek @thelastemzy @kckt88 @darylandbethfanforever9

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[s-rosie]

TIG CRACK

helllooooo!!!! i hope you like these hcs and please let me know how i can improve. tysm

nash and jameson did the wap dance at his bachelor party

one time, xander put on a really dirty song on (like mad at me by sexyy red) in the car and gray almost had a stroke

the brothers, ave, libby, and max once had a nerf war that lasted for 72 hours straight (avery and jameson teamed up and won)

avery’s go-to karaoke songs are obsessed by Mariah Carrie, NO by megan trainer, etc. and jameson was like “is this targeted?” when they first did karaoke

one time max was listening to a spicy audio and it accidentally connected to the car with just her and avery and now she blackmails her with the memory

when they were younger, nash paid xander in ice cream to keep quiet about a hickey he had

libby always has to pee on road trips like im talking every 30 minutes and everyone debates on leaving her at the rest stop

ave once had a dream (if you know what i mean) about jameson before they were dating, and she couldn’t look him in the eye the next day

grayson once failed cooking so bad, he had sauce splattered on his suit and had to awkwardly walk to his room to change (while everyone made fun of him)

xander and jameson will randomly break out in song like they are in a musical or sum

libby and max watch anime together

rebecca once yelled because she was mad and everyone stopped in their tracks because she never yells

nash loves legally blond because it was alisa’s fave movie before she was a lawyer and she got him into it

grayson watches the golden girls as a guilty pleasure

nash watches soap operas and always gasps dramatically at every plot twist

thea only drinks black coffee because she thinks it makes her ✨qUiRkY✨ (she doesn’t even enjoy it)

rebecca and xander hold the world record for largest blanket fort ever built because of a sleepover they had when they were kids

max says things like “im just not like the other girls ✨💖😝🤪🤩🎀💝” ironically

jameson knows swear words in almost every language

one time, jameson started to tickle avery, so she pulled out a swich blade on him

max and avery have a system where they cover for each other no matter what, no questions asked (it saved both of their asses more times then they can count)

libby, max, and avery make up code names for everyone (code name list on next post) (jameson eventually figured out who all the code names were for and now listens to the conversations and gets all of the tea and the girls have no idea)

avery is flexible, and one time max said sum like “ave, your flexible, right” and avery eas like “yeah” and jameson started to think some not-so-g-rated-things (nash then elbowed him and told him to knock it off)

libby once messed up so bad dying her hair, a chunk of it came out

xander once made a robot spider to scare jameson (becauae i hc hes deathly afraid of spiders)

those are my hcsss! i hope upu liked them. please give me tips on how i can improve and please give me hc suggestions and recommendations so i can make more. tysmm!

[madhatterbri]

Wither | Lord Debling

Summary: Y/N knows how to make Lord Debling wither.

Author's Note: He lives in my head rent-free.

Find my masterlist here.

Find my Lord Debling masterlist here.

Taglist: @plentyoffandoms @theworldofotps @midwestmade29

Lord Debling noticed the scent coming from Y/N as soon as she stepped into the study. His breath hitched in his throat as his mind wandered to another place. Her bedroom, more specifically. She wore it whenever they conducted their marital acts. He simply thought it was a coincidence until he saw a smirk plastered on her pretty face. The little minx knew the game she was playing and winning.

"Are you ready, my Lord? Shall I notify Charles of our departure?" She asked, referencing the carriage driver. She leaned over the desk and placed a hand on his forehead. He turned to look at her. A playful look in his eyes. His light eyes looked down at her chest. It was as if he was hypnotized.

"No need, my dear. Just simply caught off guard by the perfume you chose to wear tonight," he answered and cleared his throat. He went back to rummaging on his desk, accidentally knocking over some papers on the floor.

She smiled and dropped to her knees. Y/N started to collect some of the fallen papers. "If I am not mistaken, I believe you bought it for me on one of your travels,"

"My wife's memory is impeccable as always," he complimented and leaned down to pick up some of his work. "Yet I am curious as to why you chose this evening to wear it and not when you normally do,"

Y/N leaned in close to his ear. Her hot breath was felt on his neck and ear. Lord Debling shuddered. His eyes fluttered close and he inhaled sharply. This was always a sensitive area for him.

"I must assure you my actions have no malicious intent," she whispered. Her free hand ran over the whiskers on his face. "Although, if you so choose, we can skip tonight's ball and perform how we do when I wear this perfume,"

The noble Lord inhaled deeply. His thoughts ran away from him again. His Lady Debling on her knees before him. The ball did seem pointless to attend. They were newlyweds, after all. An heir was expected from them.

A knock on the door quickly brought the Lord and Lady to their senses. Lord Debling grabbed the papers and threw them on the desk. She stood up and sat on the couch nearby. Her hand on the arm of the couch while her head placed on her hand. Charles walked into the room.

"The carriage is ready for departure, my Lord," Charles told him. Lord Debling had to think of something fast to get out of his engagement.

"I am afraid the Lady has fallen ill. We will be staying in tonight. Please ensure that no one disturbs us in here," Lord Debling ordered. Lady Debling looked down to hide her smile.

"Yes, sir. Shall I fetch the doctor for Lady Debling or-"

Lord Debling cut him off. "That won't be necessary. I will see to it myself that she gets the proper care she deserves. Take the night off, Charles,"

"Thank you, my Lord. Good night," Charles bid his farewell. He closed the door behind him. The newlyweds were left alone. Y/N could feel her husband staring at the back of her head.

"Is my wife pleased? She gets me all to herself," he spoke. Lady Debling blushed. His chair scooted away from his desk. The ruffling of clothes could be heard behind her. Within moments, he stood before her only in his breeches.

"What new wife wouldn't want their husband to themselves?" She asked back. He smiled at her answer. The woman had a certain charm to her. "On the couch, my Lord,"

He followed her simple orders by sitting comfortably on the couch. His back rested towards the back as both feet sat firmly on the ground. Still new to her calling the shots, he couldn't say he hated it. On the contrary, Lord Debling enjoyed coming home to a wife who wanted to make him wither.

Lady Debling straddled his hips. Her hands rubbed up and down his chest. He inhaled deeply as her fingers brushed against his hairy chest. She kissed down to his neck. The hitch in his breathing helped her find his spot. His wife made sure to pepper it with kisses and nips.

Alfred squirmed and grabbed her hips. He moved himself between her legs. His clothed hard on brushing between her folds. The rough fabric hitting a spot that made her squirm. She elevated herself on her knees. A few shaky breaths while she calmed her nerves.

"Be patient, my Alfred. Be patient," she ordered. Once he nodded, Y/N lowered herself to the floor. He leaned down to kiss her lips. Her fingers mingled in his hair. Her kisses went south to his neck, chest, and finally, his stomach. Lady Debling started to remove his pants.

Alfred lifted his hips up to assist her. His pants fell to his ankles. Pre-cum rested at the tip of his length. She rested her arms on his parted legs. Her head brought closer to his waiting dick.

Her hand grabbed him around the head and slowly worked its way down. Alfred gasped and shifted again. It was hard to control himself. He licked his lips.

"Do I have to tie you down, Alfred?" She teased and leaned in. The tip of her tongue started at the base of his shaft. Slowly, she worked her tongue up to the head. Only pausing briefly to circle her tongue around his head.

The noises that came from her head made her smile. Lady Debling repeated the same actions several times. Licking different sides of his penis and paying special attention to the head.

She grabbed the base once more. Their eyes locked. She kissed the tip of his length before slowly taking him in her mouth. His mouth dropped open as he watched himself disappear in her mouth. Lord Debling bit his lip and moaned.

"My lady," Lord Debling moaned. He bucked his hips slightly. Her pace picked up as Alfred's pleasure built up. He felt his orgasm coming. "I'm... I'm going to,"

Lady Debling pulled away. He whined at the loss of pleasure. Maybe another time he could finish down her throat. His chest rose and fell as his lungs tried to catch their breath.

"When we have an heir," she told him as if she could read his mind. Y/N stood up and removed her dress. She left it on the floor. He admired her beauty as the moonlight shined on her body. A natural beauty.

Lady Debling straddled his lap once more. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Alfred grabbed one of her breasts. His tongue worked her nipple causing it to pucker. His other hand worked her other breast. His thumb swirled around her sensitive nipple.

While teasing her, she didn't notice his hand sliding down between her legs. Y/N called his name the moment he started to tease her clit. She gasped and moaned. Her hips slid her over his fingers. When she was wet, he started to tease her entrance.

They built her up to take him. One finger at a time until she was able to take three of him comfortably. His fingers curled inside of her. Each curl withdrew a moan from her.

"Take me, please. I can't take anymore," he begged and removed his fingers from her sex. Between the teasing and her sounds, Alfred had enough. Y/N barely registered the words that fell from his lips.

Their lips locked as she slid down on him. Alfred pulled her bottom lip with his teeth. His hands slid down to her waist. Their pleasure picked up the moment she started to grind on him.

"Oh, Alfred," she moaned. He thrusted his hips up towards her as she came down. His hand slapped her bottom softly, causing them both to gasp. She clenched around him. He swore he felt heaven.

"Oh, Y/N," he groaned. Her pace started to pick up. His thrusts became stronger. With a few more pleasured sounds, he came inside of her. His body spasmed slightly. She came after him. He leaned back on the couch. The high of his orgasm coming in waves.

She remained in his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder. Alfred kissed her forehead softly. He cupped her cheek. His thumb caressed her cheek.

"My initial analysis of your character served true. You can make me wither,"

[osamiiya]

AITA- Miya Atsumu x Reader

Summary: Am I the asshole for falling in love with my volleyball team manager? They’re also my childhood friend and I accidentally ran away from them after kissing them after we won the finals…

Atsumu kisses his team manager on accident (he’s in love with them) and turns to reddit for help.

Rating: Teen (For language!)

Warnings: Language!!

Notes: Mainly from Atsumu POV, lmk if we ever want the reader’s POV, no pronouns or gender identifying characters used in regards to the reader! The ending is rushed idk where I was going with this.

A/n: Hi it’s been a while i’m in college now and recently rewatched haikyuu so expect things (possibly) from me this summer

Atsumu’s fingers hover above his phone keypad, glaring down at the blinking text cursor staring back up at him. He gnaws on his lip slightly, feeling the salty sweat from the days activities on his tongue.

He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He got caught up in the moment! It could happen to anyone, really!

One thing you know, you’re watching the ball hit the floor on the other side of the net. Heart pumping and ears ringing from the adrenaline and excitement of the successful setter dump. The poor, distraught faces staring up at him from across the net.

Atsumu promises he’s not a psychopath.

If anything, it was the cheers that erupted from the crowd, boosting his confidence and grinding his decision making skills lower than they already are (according to ‘Samu).

Heart pumping, his head whipped to the side, tunnel visioning on your bright smile from the sidelines. In fact, his feet moved without his consent, pulled by some invisible force dragging him to you.

Next thing he knows, he’s gathering your face in his hands, gently, a complete contradiction to the wild, vibrant, exhilarating emotions working their way through his body.

Atsumu’s eyes met yours, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, then he was leaning in, then his eyes fluttered shut as he pressed his lips to yours.

He doesn’t even know if you closed your eyes.

And the kiss was… not like what he wanted his first kiss with you to be.

Sure, there were fireworks, and he’s been dreaming of this moment for years and years. And Atsumu thinks he could die in the next five minutes and die without any regrets. Then his eyes snap open, as realization pours over him like a bucket of ice water. Thinking about it now, Atsumu thinks the realization is more abrupt. Like a slap to the face, or like the time Osamu ripped his bandaid off his leg.

Within the mere seconds of eye contact and lip contact, Atsumu has four different realizations:

1. His mother was in the stands, watching her son kiss the kid she remembers from her sons’ childhood, always knocking on their door asking if “‘Tsumu and ‘Samu wanted to pass the volleyball around with them.

2. His team was probably watching him kiss their team manager. He would get an earful from Kita no matter what, and he would probably disappear in mysterious and ominous ways if they quit the manager position because of this.

3. He was sweaty. Almost obnoxiously so. The hands cupping your face? Disgusting. They were on the floor, touching the volleyball, slick with sweat, and somehow dry all at once. His face? Sweaty. His hair? Probably all messed up from sweat.

The fourth and final realization is arguably the most important:

4. The two of you were not dating. In fact, you had no idea of these feelings he had been harboring for you. And by kissing you, not only had he revealed these feelings, but possibly, completely ruined the almost 10 year friendship between the two of you.

All of these realizations poured over Atsumu like a bucket of ice water.

He pulls away from you, like he had been burned by the slight pressure on his lips. He stares at you for a moment, barely registering the commotion around the two of you.

And he bolts.

Atsumu realizes that he doesn’t care about going to nationals anymore, and instead only cares about getting to the furthest location from Gymnasium 1. His legs, of course, also do not care that he played five sets, and carry him all the way to his backpack, tucked in some stairway with everyone else’s gear, and into the bathroom. Slamming the door behind him.

He mutters a few curse words as he locks the door, staring at the empty row of stalls in front of him.

“I’m going to live out my life and die in this bathroom.” He groans out, burying his face in his (disgusting) hands.

He fishes his phone out of his backpack. He goes through a mental checklist of the people he knows and is willing to ask for advice about.

Atsumu draws a blank.

‘The internet will know.’ Atsumu thinks. It would be better for random strangers to counsel him.

He starts typing.

“Am I the asshole for running away from someone after kissing them?”

Atsumu thinks he’s an asshole, but maybe the internet sees the situation differently.

“I (17M) am in love with my high school volleyball team manager. We‘re childhood friends, and I remember loving them as love as I remember how the sun feels on my skin. This year we won all of our matches and quality to advance to spring nationals.

The last match we won had everyone really hyped. In the midst of the excitement, I kissed my manager. In front of everyone. And then I ran. Because I’m scared.

I’m currently hiding in the bathroom, because I don’t know what else to do, and I suppose my excitement got the best of me, but i’m not sure I can continue daily life knowing what the pressure of their lips against mine was. I want to confess but If it goes wrong, everything in my life gets impacted.

Did I ruin any chance at anything by running? It was kind of a dick move.

Thoughts?”

He posts it.

A minute later his phone lights up with a notification informing him of a response. Several responses.

“Yes, you’re an asshole. People need to use this bathroom.”

“It was mad funny”

“Please come out so we can talk.”

A cold sweat forms on his neck when he realizes it was his personal account he posted from. Rookie mistake.

If he does die, Atsumu would rather be in the doorway of the bathroom, rather than surrounded but the smells of different bodily…things.

He opens the door, smiling at you sheepishly.

“Hey, what brings you here?”

Your smile doesn’t reach your lips, and Atsumu sweats.

“Have something to say?” Your voice only serves to speed up the heart palpitations in his chest. Atsumu is even sure that if you were looking at his eyes, you would see them dilate in affection.

He’s making a noise, he realizes. Staring dumbly at your lips, an “um” sound occupying the space as he tries to gather his words and not think about how soft your lips were, or how he could basically taste the smile on your lips.

“I like you… and not in the way I should. I’ve been in love with you forever, and ‘Samu’s always on my case about it and I really don’t know what to do about it and you looked so pretty smiling there after we won and I dunno I just-“

Your lips are on his again, interrupting the word vomit spilling from his lips.

He melts, and his hands come up to grip your waist as his eyes flutter closed and he leans into the kiss.

And suddenly the pressure is gone, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you mumble against his lips, before dashing down the hall.

“I like you too.”

Atsumu’s quick to follow, feeling the burn of overworked muscle in his thighs, and listening to the sound of your laugh echo down the hall.

He guesses he’s not as big of an asshole as he thought.

[billys-slutcherson]

'Nightshift Degeneracy P.T 2' 18+ MDNI

Mike Schmidt x F!Reader

────────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───────────────

Chapter 2/2:

After his near miss of being caught up to no good on the nightshift, Mike thinks he might be in the clear. However, you relish in letting him know you caught him. Desperate to fulfil his urges completely.

Tags:

Handjobs, Semi-Public Sex, Orgasm Edging, Edging, Begging, Submissive/Soft-Dom, Exhibitionism, Shyness/Nervousness, Riding, Wet Kisses, Wet & Messy, Non-Plot Heavy, Smut

────────────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───────────────

Mike hunched over, gripping his knees as he sighed with relief. Thinking he was in the clear, albeit the utter humiliation wracked his senses. Standing more upright one hand moved to his waist, whilst the other pressed over his forehead.

"So close, such an idiot, Mike." He berated himself. Cringing as his eyes darted back to the sloppy mess on the table. Hoping you perhaps didn't notice. How naïve. He rushed to the desk, pulling the drawers open.

Looking for something to clean it, and hide any evidence of his late-night depravity.

With no luck he turned on his heel, so focused as he wandered to the locker. Yanking the door open. He physically flinched, raising his hand to his face as he yelped. "Fucking Christ..." He sighed, knocking over the silly little balloon boy figurine. Annoyed at how it caught him off guard.

After the initial frustration, he chuckled at the scare. Crouching as he snatched the tissues from his backpack, making his way back to the desk.

Mike leaned against the edge of it, rolling up the security jacket, as the cuffs of his sleeves clenched against his forearms. Cheeks pink as he tried to clean the splatters of his excitement, trying to hide what a pathetic loser he was, at least that was how he felt anyway.

Quickly, moving to wipe the keys. The main monitor switched accidentally. As his eyes swerved to catch you on-screen. Walking into the party room. Lips parted as he stared. Like a puppy, his eyes wide.

Wetting his lips slightly. Crouching in front of the desk. Compelled by you.

"So pretty..." He almost whined. Blinking slowly.

--

Your footsteps pressed into the old shag carpet, splayed with bright patterns. The colours of the old building are dulled by decay. A smell that lingered in the air. Sweet yet putrid. Flashlight in hand, raised beside your head as you survey the pizzeria.

Checking your watch, it was just hitting 02:00 am. It always had an eerie unnerved feeling this late into the shift. Yet, your thoughts existed elsewhere. Remembering how you almost caught him in the act. How his cheeks burned red, the way he pulled away from the simple little touch of your hand. Weirdly though, you felt his shame was cute. Somehow, endearing. Recalling catching his stare during your recent shifts. The way he seemed to stutter more when you watched him speak. It wasn't like you hadn't been toying with him, quipping back with little flirtful comments. But, he was oblivious. Clumsy with you.

Approaching the main stage, your fingers traced the edge of the curtains, curling the tips over the fabric as you tugged it open, only a little. Swallowing firmly as you looked up at 'them'.

The animatronics, weren't how they seemed when you were young. The years were unkind. Your eyes drifted between the three on the 'Show Stage'. Dishevelled, decrepit, and god the fucking smell of them. It gave you the heave. They loomed ominously, the height of them alone was enough to creep you out. Every night without fail, the song seemed stuck in your mind. As you softly hummed 'talking in your sleep'.

'You tell me that you want me,

You tell me that you need me'

The lyrics softly left your lips as you sang, staring up at the monster-like animatronics.

Suddenly startled, you heard the ruffle of the curtains at 'Pirate Cove'. You about jumped into the air as you turned to check it. Trembling as your flashlight wobbled in hand.

--

In the office, Mike's brow furrowed, the security cameras were too shitty to have audio. Nevertheless, he watched as your startled body jerked back against the stage. You seemed, anxious to him. He watched only for a moment till he noticed the shaking of your hands. Tilting his head to the side as he snatched his flashlight from the drawer. Wheels squeaked against the checkered vinyl floor as he moved to his feet. Wandering

the hallway towards the 'Party Room'. The silence always made his stomach feel like a rock. Like he was filtering towards a liminal void. He didn't care for the animatronics, and was certain somehow, they likely felt similarly to him.

--

Looming in the entranceway. One of the bulbs on the arch flickered.

You heard the scuff of his sneakers and gasped. Dropping the flashlight. Grabbing at your chest with fright. Glaring at him.

"What the hell are you doing creeping in the shadows!" You scolded. Bending to grab your light once more. Flashing it towards his face, your eyes still startled.

"I-I saw you on the cameras... Something seemed, wrong. I just-... I wanted to check you were okay..." He falters.

Shy as he admitted to essentially spying on you.

Sighing as you lowered the light from his scrunched face. Embarrassed that the place seemed to get to you more tonight than usual.

"I- it's fine, sorry for shouting. I just-... Foxy's curtain moved." You raised your arm pointing. Stepping closer to his platform. Mike hesitated, watching carefully, before stepping closer. His presence eased you.

Peeking through the crack in the curtain. As your light filtered through. Reflecting over the old rusting metal.

"They used to be, magical... now they are just...creepy." You remark.

He raised an eyebrow, noting you knew the place before, well, before the 'rumours'.

You pulled the curtain back closed, dragging your hands over it. Tension easing some as you turned scoffing.

"At least they haven't run off, just being quirky is all." You smirked.

"Not yet anyway." He retorted with a grin. Smiling suited him, you liked to see that morose little face light up.

Playfully narrowing your eyes at Mike. You sauntered over to the 'prize desk'. Humming that familiar tune. It was adorned with old toys, strips of tickets slung over the desk. You hopped up and slid your rear over the countertop. He followed, eyes tracing over your hips as you scooted over the other side. The corners of his lips tugged upwards. Watching you closely, as you flash him a smile. Tossing your hands up in the air. Practically shouting.

"Step up, step up...Pick your prize, Mikey boy!" You teased with a sneaky wink. Bending against the counter cockily. The smile grew on your face, as you caught his eyes trailing down your body as you pressed over the desk.

He stifled a little, as he scratched the back of his head. Approaching.

"Well..." Hesitating as he speaks

You rest your chin in your palms.

"I already know the best prize.." You hummed in a sing-song tone.

"What are you doing..?" He laughed with an almost look of nervousness, though his smile never left. Not for a moment. Resting his palms on the edge of the counter.

Careful, trying to bite your tongue. But you couldn't help but remark.

"What were you doing?" He watched as you snickered while saying it.

Stuck in time, it felt like the words were choking him as his breath hitched.

"What do you mean?.." Responding so quickly he tripped over his words, trying to play dumb. You could see the pink wash over his freckled cheeks.

'Gotcha!' You thought to yourself. Tilting your head to the side. Batting your eyes at him.

Repeating slowly, mockingly even and you relished in his cute flustered little face.

"I asked, what were you doing? Earlier, when I came in. You seemed... on edge?" You couldn't hide your delight at his discomfort.

He scoffed a little. Leaning on the counter just across from you his fingers pushing his curls back slightly.

"I-I just got a fright from the door... that's all" He lied, it was painful how bad he was at it.

"No, I don't think that was it. Lie better." You grilled him playfully.

"I- I am not lying." He continued to fib. "W-what do you think I was doing?" He deflected.

"Oh, I don't know... But you better have cleaned your little mess." Pushing him further. Revealing you did in fact notice.

He was caught, stammering and ashamed. Why did he feel the need to keep denying it? He felt a twinge in his jeans. He couldn't help but think you 'enjoyed' the fact you'd caught him. Did you know he was thinking about you? His heart thudded in his chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about." His tongue poked against his inner cheek. Fiddling shyly with his hands, staring at the counter. 'Don't look at her, do not'. He thought to himself. She knows.

The distance slowly closed between you both as you leaned that little more towards him.

"You are cute when you are embarrassed, aren't you?" Stroking his nervous palms with your fingertips, feeling him freeze. His hands practically vibrated under your touch.

"What were you thinking about, while you...?" Enjoying how he squirmed, craving to hear him admit it. Your mind wondered how he sounded. Did he call out for you? You hoped so. Knew so.   

You were used to this cold, moody, quiet spirit. Though now, he was suddenly defenceless. Showing how powerless he was around you. Uncovering how much of a little pervert he embodied. Pathetic. Cute, but pathetic.

He stayed quiet. For what felt like an eternity to him. His lip trembled a little, as he felt himself unravelling. Sighing, as he thumbed over your palm. The simple touches riled him.

Leaning till you were inches from his face.

"... Was it me? Is that why you panicked?..." You asked in a sly, little whisper.

You caught how he blinked in defeat. Tilting his head down.

"I... I really didn't know you were in tonight..." Cut off as he lifted his head.

Indulging in the heat of the moment you pressed your lips to his, hand cupping his cheek. This is all you wanted, right now. Tasting his lips on yours. He hesitated as his body stiffened. Shoulders pulled up. You drew your lips back from his. Uncertain if he wanted this. Though, he followed you, clutching at your hand.

"N-no please.." He whispered. Leaning towards you as his fingertips found your hair. Touching so gently. Lips brushing yours. Hesitating.

You didn't overstep, letting him follow at his pace as you couldn't refrain from smiling. Sweetly, he stuttered an apology.

"I just-... it was you... I-I'm sorry.." He stammered guiltily. You could have melted there at how desperately needy he was being. Brushing your fingers over his warmed cheeks.

Moving both hands to his face, his cheeks squishing in your palms. He nudged his forehead against yours, desperate to find your lips again.

You mumbled teasingly against his lips.

"I already knew... I am not stupid... but, God, you made such a mess... So messy, Mike." Purring against his lips as he kissed further. Trying to bury his shame. Having yearned for you, for such a long time.

The kisses between you both, are filled with precious passion. You lean over the counter on your tippy toes. Trying to close the distance of the counter between your bodies.

Mike felt lightheaded, gripping your wrists as you held his face in your hands.

Palming them back down on the counter, dragging his nails along it. You broke the kiss, your hands shifting to grip the scruff of his jacket.

"Come here." You urged, giggling in a way he hungered to hear. Longing to be the reason for your laughter. Quickly, he sprung into motion, climbing over the countertop clumsily. Not at all like you had. Tumbling off of it he stumbled into you. Trembling hands grazed at your waist, as he nudged his lips back to to yours. Mesmerised by you.

Your giggles washed over his lips, making him wait a moment. Pushing at his chest. As his body pleaded with you.

Your tongue slipping into his mouth aroused him to no end, as you felt his hard-on press into your leg.

Catching one another's stare. You pulled back from the kiss.

"Clearly, you needed my help the first time..." You quipped as he scoffed looking away. You dragged his stare back to you, as you gripped his jaw. Catching a silly smile on his lips.

His hands were still wrapped against your waist. Stroking his fingertips against the small of your back, teasing your spine.

Reaching between you both, you unbuttoned your shirt. His eyes drifted from yours. Watching him glimpse downwards. You allowed it. This time.

He kept playing with your hair. Totally fawning over you.

Soon your shirt is off and falling to the floor. His fingers dance against the straps of your bra. Images of tearing it between his teeth filtered back to him.

"Tell me what you pictured... in the office?" You teased. Slowly reaching to unbutton his jeans, slipping your hand inside. Massaging lightly. Knowing he is likely still sensitive.

The breaths escaped him as you touched him, finally. Even if clothed, he was still overcome. He pressed his eyes shut, savouring the moment. Slow down, please, please. His poor mind raced, so fragile against you.

"Uh...I hm.." He breathed out heavily. Eyes flickering back. Panting.

"I th-thought of you on your knees.." He grunted a little as your fingers laced around his shaft. Stroking his already hard cock.

Hunching against you, he gripped your shoulders. Squeaking out sharp little whimpers.

"Only my mouth?" You toyed with him, your lips touching his, though not kissing.

"No.." He swallowed.

"Then on top, and you...didn't stop till...s-shit" His words trailed off. You smiled deviously but knew he couldn't possibly cope for long. Nudging him back to the counter, smooching him softly. Fumbling as you pushed your trousers down. Kicking your boots with them. Pulling him to the floor with you. His back was pushed into the counter, as you kneeled between his legs, pulling his jeans back down to his knees.

Mike was so flustered, his shame still threatened him as he watched you slowly stroke. Bending.

"N-no, please, I... I won't last..." He fumbled. Reaching to guide you over him. Clutching at your hips, you didn't stop him. All he could bear was to feel you. To be inside of you.

"I love it when you are all flustered..." You smiled over him as you straddled his waist. His lips curled as you caught his small smile.

Tracing his fingers against your underwear. He shyly played with the waistband. Raising your hips, you helped him pull them down your thighs. Kicking them off your ankle, as you adjusted your body. Pressing your hips down to feel his length glide against you. Fingers stroked over his cheeks as he pressed his head back into the wood.

Eyes never moving from yours as you whisper.

"So adorable..." You breathed against his lips.

"You...make me so pathetic." He whines out, bucking his hips up against yours. Visibly desperate to feel you wrapped around his dick.

"I like seeing you be such a horny loser..." You smirk. The hot and breathless laugh that escaped his lips only served to make you need him more.

You felt his fingertips dig against your waist. Sinking your hips downward, stretching around him, his girth much more than expected. Your breath rushed against his neck, letting out a moan that surprised you both, feeling him twitch within. Wrapping your arms against his shoulders to steady yourself. The pair of you losing composure, in the moment, wanting nothing but to feel one another.

Mike's hips jerked upwards, his cry of relief so sweet, as his nails dragged over your spine. Showering his lips with kisses, as you inhaled his breaths. His mind whirled with lust. Watching you, caressing and softly crying out.

"Fuck..fuck, you are so fucking hot..." The words rushed from him disjointedly. His lips hung open, as he grew closer. His climax built within, threatening. Cursing at himself. You could feel as he throbbed, he was fucking you so clumsily. The jut of his hips quick, like a piston slamming up into your cunt.

"Is this what you jerked for, huh? This is what you needed, I know... you need this." You taunted. It felt so good watching him under you grovelling for more.

Nodding as he tightened his lips closing his gawping mouth. He could only nod. Straining his back as he bucked you up and down his length. You kissed his lips, working little kisses down his jaw, till you reached his ear. Sucking on the lobe, tugging only gently.

"You are so close, huh..." You teased, hips bouncing now. As you felt his whimpers against your neck. "That's it, Mike...Cum for me... P-please" You faltered, he could hear that whimper. How you needed this, just as much. It ruined him.  

He felt so intensely embarrassed at how quickly he was losing all control. Your encouragement unravelled him. Cracking at the edges of his quiet exterior, he was quickly coming undone. Unable to admit, nor warn, as his orgasm rushed through. His cock spasmed inside you and released a thick stream of his cum. So much so, that his white sticky finish seeped from you.

Your hips still riding, as he burst through that orgasm, crying out sharply. As you didn't slow, he gripped at your back, stroking harshly. Marking your skin, feeling your hips halt. As his tender cock ached. Mike's eyes rolled back, as he felt you slam down, a wet rush flowed over his skin as he heard you wail against his neck. Another weaker rope splurged from his tip as he twitched under you.

Taking a breather you held yourself against him. Feeling his palms cradle you a moment before lifting off of him. With a moan, till the cold air washed over his shaft. Resting your hips back against his. The twitching against you made you shiver, your weight pinning him down.

He finally opened his eyes. A goofy smile on his lips, as you stroked his cheek with the back of your hand.

"That was... fucking.." He rasped, trailing off as he struggled to find the words. Quickly leaning to kiss your neck softly. Drool on his mouth, before resting back against the counter, looking up at you.

"I know... " Breathily scoffing, as you playfully patted his cheek.

PART 2, A PART 2!

I had fun writing this! It is totally smut, if you ignore the sexual tension? LMAO.

If you made it to this point, see you in hell (●'◡'●)

In no way did I intend for it to be 3,041 words, oopsie.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Dr. Y/L/N (Hannibal)

Description: Y/N is Hannibal’s doctor while he’s in prison and he’s obsessed with her.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,421k

Request:

Hi,

I heard you are taking requests, could you please write (if you are comfortable) a Hannibal fanfic, where he is already imprisoned and starts obsessing over a doctor!reader,who comes to visit him after he got injured.This happens multiple times due to Chilton‘s ruthless care. After breaking out, he soon turns up to the reader‘s house. The reader also thought that he was rather charming and it ends with smut? (Again if you are comfortable)

Hannibal turned around as a beautiful woman came into the room to check on him. He had to go through this every week and at first he hated it but after the doctor got replaced by someone that was so beautiful he was actually okay with it. He would never admit this outloud but he sometimes would hurt himself just to see her. Luckily nobody caught onto that. “Dr. Lecter, have you kept yourself out of harm’s way?” She asked as she walked up to him. He chuckled, “Dr.Y/L/N I’m offended that you think so low of me.” He said to her as she wrote something down on her paper. “Well considering this is the 5th time I’ve seen you this week?” She asked and he nodded. “Can you blame me? I have a very pretty doctor.” His face turned red at his words. He loved to flirt with her any chance he got and though she did find him attractive she kept it professional. “Thank you Dr.Lecter.” She said and began asking him questions. 

Y/N had gone into work one day and had been informed that the FBI took Dr.Lecter for the day and that he would be back. She felt a little sad that she wouldn’t be able to see him that day but was glad he was okay. 

She watched the news in horror as she found out that he escaped and was on the loose. Sure he was attractive but she knew what he did and what he was capable of. How could the FBI be so stupid? That was probably his plan all along. But when she got a knock at her door she didn’t think much of it. She had neighbors that sometimes needed to borrow stuff no matter the time of day or not so when she opened the door to see Hannibal she gasped. “Hello Dr.Y/L/N.” She stared at him with wide eyes, “How did you find my home?” She asked the man.

He chuckled, “It took me hours to do so but you live close by.” She was confused on what he meant by that but was too stunned at the fact that he was at her door. “Dr. Lecter, why are you here?” She asked him. There had been tension between them ever since they met but right now it was stronger than ever. “Dr.Y/L/N or shall I say Y/N we both know that during our visits we may have acted professional but there was never professionalism between us.” He stated. “Dr. Lecter, you always flirted with me. I was the one to keep it professional.” She told him. “But you liked my flirty, did you not?” He asked, stepping closer to her.

This caused her to take a step back and accidentally let him into her home. He stared her down waiting for the answer that she didn’t have. She knew it was wrong but she did like it. “Y/N I know you are attracted to me. Don’t hide it.” He said and leaned down and kissed her. She didn’t kiss back. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to but it was wrong. “This is wrong Dr.Lecter.”She pointed out against his lips. “But it feels so right doesn’t it? And call me Hannibal.” He whispers and kisses her again. This time she doesn’t hesitate and kisses him back. Their lips were perfect together and felt amazing.

Her hands that were placed at her sides went up to pull off his jacket. He let her take it off him and picked her up causing her to squeak into the kiss. He slammed her against the wall as the kiss got more heated. Her hands were tugging his hair causing him to groan into her mouth. Once they needed oxygen they pulled away and he went to kiss her neck. She sighed as he kissed down her neck at some points leaving marks. As he sucked on her neck she moaned his name. It was a beautiful sound that he would die to hear over and over again. “Lift your arms.” He mumbled into her neck and she did so. He took off her shirt revealing her perfect breasts to him.

She watched as he leaned down to suck on one of her nipples causing her to gasp. His mouth felt so good on her nipple that she could imagine where it felt in other places. After he assaulted one he moved on to the other. He left marks all around her boobs as he came back up to kiss her needy lips. She began unbuttoning his dress shirt and pulled it off him. Her hands felt up and his chest as she traveled down to his pants. She tugged on his pants and he got the hint. He pulled away from her lips and asked her “Where is your bedroom?” She told him and he carried her into the room.

He dropped her on the bed and removed his pants. She pulled down her PJ Pants to reveal soaking wet panties. He chuckled at the sight and pulled down his boxers. His dick was huge; she was almost sure that it wouldn’t fit. But her panties got more soaked at the sight. He ran a hand up her soft leg until it came in contact with her panties. “My my you're very wet.” He said and pulled them down her legs until they were off. She sighed at the feeling of cool air hitting her pussy. He pulled her so that their crouches lined up. “Are you ready?” He asked, looking down at her as she was falling apart.

She nodded quickly and bucked her hips just to feel something. He chuckled and lined his dick up with her soaking wet hole. He sighed and slowly pushed in not knowing her experience. He watched as her face contorted different emotions. Some of pain and some of pleasure. She felt nice and warm and super tight. He loved the feeling of her. He loved it so much that he let out a groan of pure pleasure and admiration. Her hands looked for something to latch onto but she couldn’t until he was all the way inside of her. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands gripped her own thighs as she cried out as he started thrusting.

His hands covered hers as his hips snapped into her. He watched as she closed her eyes and her mouth opened into a perfect o shape. She looked so sexy that his hips snapped against hers even harder. His name fell from her lips in a whimper and her eyes opened to meet his. He watched as her lustful eyes stared back at him until they rolled back into her head and her body arched. Her pussy was squeezing him so tight, he was sure that if he tried to pull out it wouldn’t work. He let out deep grunts that were made at the same time her noises were. He was never super loud during sex but she was and oh he loved it.

Her hands squeezed her thighs so hard she definitely left bruises as her high was near. “Hannibal, I'm close.” She whimpers out as he groans out a “me too.” It would be magical if they came together. Her body started shaking and he knew that at any point she would come. “Cum for me baby.” He managed out as he was also close. Her back arched and he could feel her cum all over his dick triggering his orgasm. He only let out a grunt as he came but she screamed and whined as he rode out her orgasm until there was nothing left.

Both of them breathing hard and holding on to each other as they calmed down. She felt him soften inside of her and pull out causing her to whimper at the loss of contact. She managed to sit up and look up at him. He looked so good all sweaty and fucked out. Little did she know how she looked. “That was great.” She told him as she ran her hand up and down his arm. He smiled at her and nodded. “You are very attractive Dr.Y/L/N.” He tells her and that makes her smile. “I would like to get to know you better and not just as my doctor.” Her smile goes down a bit and she looks at him. “That’s great Hannibal but unfortunately I have to get you back to prison.” 

[staytiny-dreams]

dating streamer! beomgyu (c.bg x reader)

pairing: choi beomgyu x gn! reader

genre: streamer! au, fluff, tiny bit of angst but not really

warnings: some parts focus on covid-19 pandemic if that's a trigger for you, i think that's all but lemme know if you think i missed anything

wc: 3.4k

note: so tired at 3am i accidentally hit the post button when it wasn't ready so if you've already seen this, no you haven't. i'm unsure how it turned out so let me know, i've also never formatted it like this before so any feedback on that lemme know too, and... look forward to the other members versions <33

squeals leave beomgyu as the tension rises, the anticipation of the jumpscare he knows is coming getting the better of him

the chat speeds by

“i thought you were supposed to be good at horror games”

“what happened to beomgyu has no fear”

“we told you you should play fnaf beomie!”

“took you this long to play fnaf?”

beomgyu whines at all the ‘i told you so’ comments

“come on guyssss im so late to this how am i supposed to know you’d be interest-” he cuts himself off with a guttural scream as freddy finally makes his long awaited appearance

seeing the bamtoris laughing at him in the comments he pouts at them

“chat you distracted me okay, i let my guard down because of you!”

his pc pings with a notification and the text to speech reads out “themarcotoyourpolo says ‘HAH you are such a liar beom you would’ve screamed either way’”

when beomgyu was seventeen, he spent his time like every other teenage boy did

playing video games

but sometimes his best friend would come over and he’d pull himself away for a few hours

only to sit with you and watch streamers play other games

honestly you didn't mind when beomgyu played games when you were over

he was entertaining to watch

really entertaining actually

“hey gyu, don't you think you’d be a good streamer?” you suggested one day jokingly.

you both giggled at the little game of ‘yes and’ that followed, planning out an entire future together where beomgyu was rich and famous, and you lived in a mansion together that was just a haven for video games and your friends, but after your little tangent, the thought was dismissed as quickly as it came.

or so you had thought.

a week later, sitting across from each other at the cheapest your favourite restaurant in town, beomgyu brought it back up again.

“do you really think i’d make a good streamer?”

“why are you actually thinking about it?” you snorted, taking a sip of your water thinking he was joking again, but when beomgyu didn't say anything you tilted your head up at him.

“oh shit are you actually thinking about it?” beomgyu gave a noncommittal shrug and picked at his food, staring down at his plate. he refused to look at you until you knocked the table in front of his plate lightly.

“beomie,” you started as he stared at you with wide eyes, “i could watch you play for hours.” you don't think you could ever forget the way his smile took over his face at your words.

and that led to the next few months spent with you and beomgyu on call for hours a day

playing mostly minecraft together although occasionally he’d branch out to other games

you hit all his milestones together

he still remembers the day you first got a double digit view count

excitement flooded through the both of you as the kind soul who raided you spams your comment section

the same day, beomgyu also hit ten followers, prompting you two to make his discord server

whenever you were too busy to join him on stream beomgyu would whine and complain like his life depended on it

more often than not he’d actually end up cancelling the stream for that day

one day you didn't feel well but you decided to sit on call with beomgyu while he streams so that he wouldn't cancel

beomgyu chattered on as he normally does, yelling about how, “beomgyu never dies,” but he noticed that today you were not reciprocating that same energy.

in fact you had been so quiet that he wasn't even sure you were still alive on the other side.

“(y/n)ie are you alive over there? (y/n)? marco?” he asked and ever so faintly he heard a weak ‘polo’ sound throughout his headphones.

“one moment, chat,” he said to his 20 something viewers before deafening on discord and muting his mic.

he wriggled his phone out from where it hid in his pocket, opened your contact and called you. it dialled almost four times before you picked up.

“i’m so sorry, beomie i fell asleep. i really didn't mean to but i-” he cut you off before you could go on.

“are you okay (y/n)ie?”

“to be honest beom, i don't feel very well i-” cutting you off again, beomgyu announced that he would be coming over to cure you before promptly hanging up and ending stream leaving both you and his chatters confused.

turns out, curing you meant bringing you his mothers soup and watching youtube in bed with you until you fell asleep. your burning forehead left patches of sweat on his chest, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

from then on you had a system in place where you would check if the other was still there by calling out “marco”

and if the other person was okay they’d call back “polo”

sometimes you regretted this system on days beomgyu decided you were too quiet and abused the marco-polo system by continually calling out marco like a broken record

a little while after beomgyu turned eighteen, the pandemic started and so followed lockdown

it was a really hard time for beomgyu

you were supposed to be starting college together that year, along with your close friends from high school soobin and taehyun

but now all classes were online and he wasn't allowed to see any of his friends

going from seeing you everyday to never took a toll on beomgyu that he didn't expect

he just hated knowing you were only a few streets away and he couldn't just walk over to you whenever he felt like it

beomie :>: are you looking at the moon rn and wondering if i’m also looking at the moon rn?

ynnie <3: beom we called for six hours today

beomie :>: i know right, i miss you too :((

ynnie <3: omg fine get back on disc lets watch a movie

but with his ray of sunshine by his side, he eventually found his footing in this apocalypse

a lot of his time was spent on call with you

working on your respective assignments

watching your online lectures on 2x speed

any other free time was spent streaming

since everyone was stuck at home, due to his frequent streaming schedule

and infectious energy

beomgyu’s audience quickly grew

going from 1000 followers when lockdown had started to hitting 3000 followers within a few months

taking your advice, he also became more active on his other social medias

even posting clips of his streams on tiktok

a few of which went viral causing his channel to grow substantially again

he also started a youtube channel for those shorter games

or ideas that required more editing to execute than a stream would allow

one day, while checking his twitter dms his eyes almost fell out of his skull

he dialled you immediately

“(y/n) (y/n) (y/n) (y/n) (y/n) (y/n)!”

you took a deep breath in, prepared to repeat his name back to him in the same tone, but you didn't get the chance.

“do not copy me, we do not have time for that, this is a code blue, (y/n), code blue!”

“what on earth is a code blue?”

“big creator dmed me (y/n), come on, we’ve discussed this!”

“we’ve never discussed a code system in our entire life.”

“what that is such a lie, you just never listen to a word i say!”

“well sorry beomgyu if you talk so much nonsense that it's hard to keep up,”

“nonsense? you take that back!” he screeched, but you could only giggle at him.

“i will literally never do that. come on gyu, what’s the code blue?”

“oh, yeah! j-hope messaged me (y/n). he asked if i wanted to join his friends' discord and play among us with them.” you squealed for him, excitement rushing through you.

“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! beomgyu, what did you say?” suddenly beomgyu felt sheepish, realising he’d just been sitting there with the message open, too busy bickering with you to have responded.

“oh um… well, nothing yet i called you first…” now this time you screeched.

“you left 20 million youtube subscribers, 1.5 million twitch followers jung ho-seok on seen? beomgyu!” you scolded. beomgyu didn't know whether to be afraid or laugh, but his endearment got the better of him and he burst into giggles at your tone.

“don't laugh at me mister, text him back right now and tell him you’d be honoured to play with them!” and as he began to type out a reply to his senior, all beomgyu could think about was how he couldn't wait to have you in his arms again.

joining such big creators in playing among us put beomgyu in contact with even more big creators and had his channel blowing up

he met many new friends including someone who would become one of his closest friends

huening kai

as covid restrictions were eased and tightened again, beomgyu made sure to see you any time he could

but due to social distancing laws, he wasn't able to tackle you in his affection the way he wished

at the end of 2020 the second wave of covid set in

your anxious mother decided that you were not allowed to leave the house until the pandemic was over

beomgyu struggled with this news

his weekly outings walking six feet away from you - but still with you - were helping him hold on to his ray of sunshine

but with your assurance that you'd spend even more time on call with him and watch all his streams, he was able to keep his mood-maker demeanour in front of his fans

“so what are your plans for valentine’s day, (y/n)?” beomgyu asked, already knowing your answer.

with february 14th approaching, beomgyu was kicking himself for not having said anything sooner because your mother still wasn't letting you out of the house and beomgyu wanted to say what he had to say in person

“what do you mean gyu? you know i’ll still be stuck at home.”

“hm… well, maybe we could do a minecraft date, like a valentine's day special.” he suggested tentatively.

“like for your stream?” you asked and he shrugged.

“we don't have to stream.”

“but beom, aren't our friends all having dinner at soobin’s that day? don't you want to join them?” you reminded him and he simply shrugged again.

“don’t want to leave you all alone on valentines day (y/n)ie.” your face felt hot. you loved your mother to pieces, but sometimes her self imposed covid restrictions really got on your nerves.

and then march came, and for the first time in twelve years you feared you wouldn't be able to spend beomgyu’s birthday with him

“mum please, i’ll do anything,” you begged, “legally four people are allowed at an indoor private gathering.”

“and what if someone there has covid (y/n)? you have asthma it could really affect you!”

“it’s only going to be gyu, soobin and taehyun. you know all of them, you trust them! plus we’re all going to test before we go!”

“and what about transport, (y/n), what if you catch it on the bus?”

“i’ll take a taxi.”

“and what if the taxi driver has it? or what if you get in the car with a bad driver or a kidnapper?”

“mum! where is all this coming from? please. it’s beomgyu’s birthday, i can't miss beomgyu’s birthday. i swear i will never ask to go out again. just please let me go see him tomorrow.” tears welled up in your eyes. you hated fighting with your mother, but you couldn't let beomgyu down like that.

but the fight was all worth it when you knocked on soobin’s door the next night and beomgyu opened it.

he pulled you inside and slammed the door shut before squeezing you tight to his chest.

“you're here?” he asked, voice muffled as it was buried in your shoulder.

“happy birthday beom,” you smiled, arms tight around his stomach.

he pulled away from your hug and before you could joke about how your mother would never let you see the light of day again, beomgyu pulled down your mask and pressed his lips to yours.

two seconds passed where you stood still, wide eyed in shock before you registered what was happening and jumped into action.

one of his hands still held your mask, and the other came down to your cheek which you’re sure must’ve been burning him from how hot your face felt. you followed his lead, grabbing his shoulder with one hand and pushing your other through the hair at the bottom of his neck.

too soon, beomgyu pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“i’m sorry (y/n). i wanted to wait, until after lockdown, i wanted to talk to you first but i saw you and i just-”

“i love you beomgyu.” you cut off his rambling and he let out a flustered laugh.

“i love you too (y/n), i love you so much.”

due to covid still ongoing and your mother’s strict rules, you and beomgyu decided to take things slow after that night

there were no more meetings in person as you kept your promise to your mother

nothing much in your relationship with beomgyu changed due to your agreement to take things slow

he flirted a little here and there but there were no new pet names or anything of the sort

beomgyu continued to focus his energy on streaming and you continued to focus on your studies

beomgyu’s streams always providing the perfect background noise

but don't tell him that you don't devote a thousand percent of your attention to him at all times

luckily as 2022 approached, your mother began to let beomgyu visit your home provided he wore a mask in common places and if he had any symptoms he did not come over

and in april 2022 most legal restrictions were lifted

with your second booster vaccination, your mother lifted your house arrest

it had been over a year since you confessed your feelings to each other and your 20th birthday approached

you both had a big discussion about giving your relationship a real try

beomgyu now had almost half a million followers on twitch

after grinding for two years, he now had a rather large fan base

you expressed that you were a bit worried about having your relationship public to them

beomgyu didn't quite understand your concern as you had been participating in his streams and been a prevalent figure on his social media since the beginning

however, respecting your wishes, you both worked to keep the romantic nature of your relationship between yourselves and your close friends.

while beomgyu seemed to have found his schtick after 3 years of streaming

playing horror games on stream and co-op games with you for his youtube channel

and the occasional vlog

the friends he had made playing among us, huening kai, ho-seok and jungkook had begged him to join a minecraft server and stream with them

so with your encouragement

and his conditions that his partner and best friends also join the server

beomgyu joined the bighit smp started by kim namjoon

it was only a few months after you officially started dating

just before his 21st birthday and both of your fourth and final years in college

when beomgyu came to you with his proposition

“move in together?”

“is it too soon? i know we've only technically been dating a few months, but-” you cut beomgyu off with a hand on his mouth.

he stared at you wide eyed for a split second before his expression changed. luckily, you recognised the suspicious sparkle in his eye and removed your hand from his face before he could lick it, leaving him pouting at you.

“don’t look at me like that,” you giggled but his pout only deepened and he reached over to grab the hand that was previously on his face.

“so? what do you think? you wanna live with me?”

“hmm… i think…”

“(y/n)…” he whined, dragging out your name.

“i think we’ll need to find a place with an extra bedroom, so you can stream in there and not in our room.”

living with a horror streamer

most days of the week it's fun

a substantial income

your boyfriend’s always home

your boyfriend is practically fearless… in theory

okay maybe he’s only fearless when it’s fictional media

even a little bit of clout, not that it matters to you

as you always have, you tend to join beomgyu and your other friends when they play minecraft in the bighit smp

as well as being in all of beomgyu’s vlogs

since you moved in together, you decided it was best to come clean to bamtoris (his fans) about your relationship

they were very supportive

due to your presence in his channel from the beginning, there were some long time shippers who were more than pleased to hear this news

and maybe a little cocky, plastering ‘i told you’ so posts all over their socials

yes, the beomy/n truthers were very pleased

of course there were those who were convinced he was dating other streamers

or those who shipped him with his other friends, soobin and taehyun

and just general psychos who simply hated you because he wasn't dating them

nevertheless you both saw the relationship reveal as a success

so sometimes you go and sit with beomgyu while he streams, just as you used to sit on call with him

but this particular wednesday night was a tough one

you’d been up late the night before working on your final project for college

then worked from 7 to 5 even though you were originally rostered for only 7 to 12

your head was pounding

and tonight, despite the soundproofing you had installed on the walls of the office

his shouts still reached your tired ears and made your head ache

you tossed and turned for a while, not wanting to ask beomgyu to quiet down as he was clearly having fun

but, after an hour of not being able to sleep you decided you were being stupid

beomgyu would never be upset with you for not feeling well

so you rolled out of bed, padded over to his door and knocked lightly, then cracked the door open

the light from the hall spilled into the room and caused beomgyu to look over at you with a smile

his hair was fluffy and his face was lit up by his screen and his purple leds and he just looked so soft

and before you could say anything, your face crumpled

and a few tears slipped down your cheeks

immediately muting his mic, beomgyu threw his headphones off and ran over to you at the door.

“baby, what’s wrong?” he asked, pulling you into his arms and you laughed at yourself.

“sorry, this is so stupid, i dont even know why im crying.” you mumble into his chest.

that night beomgyu ended his stream early and laid in bed with his arms wrapped tightly around you, whispering how much he loves you

and how whenever you wanted him to be quiet or even end stream he’d do it in a heartbeat

but, if you're not sick, busy or streaming with beomgyu, you're still watching his streams

and sending silly comments

you are simultaneously his favourite and least favourite chatter

your comments always make him laugh but are often at his expense

“themarcotoyourpolo says ‘poor baby, so scared of a big teddy bear’”

“you know what (y/n), get your ass in here, we'll put the headphones on you and see how confident you are then!”

but knowing you're in his chat has always given him comfort

and made him a smidge happier to be there

if beomgyu ever had zero viewers it'd be because you died and he knew that

even then if you ever wanted him to turn his computer off and hang out with you, he’d come running

at the end of the day, whether beomgyu’s screaming at his computer screen or peacefully cooking dinner with you, he is the love of your life and you wouldnt change a thing

[screechingsandwichtriumph]

The hellfire club x reader

Includes: Mike wheeler , Lucas sinclair , Eddie Munson, Dustin Henderson ( I know there are some others , but I don't know them , so we will stick to our main characters<3)( Also I am sorry this took so long , but I am writing so many exams I'm gonna die and also I procrastinated as much as possible)

Warnings: yandere things, stalking, obsessive behavior , bullying, I hate this and really struggled with it even though I loved the idea

Summary: you defend Dustin once and not it's over for them. They need you

Thank you to @saturnsbabe69 for helping me figure out how to write this<3 (and sorry I was so late)

The hellfire club was known around school as a group of losers who enjoyed playing board games in all of their free time, hence a lot of people made fun of them

You on the other hand weren't exactly font of them , but you should never tolerate people making fun of others. So when you saw a boy knocking down a boy's- Dustin was it?- tray down in lunch and calling him a 'careless loser' you decided to do something small for it

Now , you weren't exactly willing to end up in detention for an unknown kid and his friends , but you could be really discreet when needed

You passed by the by Dustin and his friends who were currently cussing out tha boy and gave them a reassuring smile

Reaching Brad , the boy that had knocked Dustin's tray you stuck your foot out causing him to fall on the ground, head first

"oops , Brad are you ok? Maybe you shouldn't have been such a careless loser"

That's the same exact way those boys fell for you

After that expect them to be following you around

Lucas and Dustin , can and WILL stalk you , following you home , knowing your program and all that. And let me tell you, Dustin will look through your garbage

Mike will stare a t you from afar , collecting information but not obsessively stalking you. He will however try and discreetely get close to you , throu a class or even by accidentally bumping into you

Eddie was definitely the first one to approach(let's assume he is only like two years older) and in a non discreet way.

He will call out your name on the hallways asking you if you wanna go with them on the movies or something

Embarrassed you decline

All the other boys facepalmed but at least now it was out and they could actually be more open about you

Dustin would find you in the halls to talk to you about class , Lucas would play basketball and yell "this shot is for you" (and then most likely lose), and Eddie would just talk to you non stop asking you out once a week

Mike I think would be tha least annoying but don't expect him to not be obsessed. My boy would upgrade his stalking and he would totally threaten anyone that speaks to you

You become kind of their friend and you talk to them , but rejecting them anytime they ask you out

In the beginning they didn't mind much , convinced you'd come around and actually fall for them eventually

When sometime had passed and you seemed to remain immune to their efforts to woo you , they decided that needed to get more serious

They even scolded themselves, because what were they thinking , you are so delicate and perfect , so how could you fall for their distasteful attempts right?

They put on a nice dinner , maybe even a picnic in one of the most picturesque places in town

They make sandwiches and all , Eddie even learns some romantic songs to play to you, while Dustin prepares the food and Lucas carried it. Mike makes sure everything is perfect , collecting flowers and orchestrating tha whole thing

They take you there , in a blindfold that they really struggled to concise you to wear and they confess their feelings in depth

You end up not saying no to their advances not long after

[valengory1234]

While I love the storyline where Alfred was there from day one and helped raise Bruce, I think the original where he’s just some guy who shows up one day and Bruce and Dick just have to cope is extremely funny