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lisafication · 6 months

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This post is uh, extremely normal I swear

So hello yes I am absolutely On My Bullshit regarding my new favourite game.

That’s right, it’s the cannibal incest game, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. And I’m here to shove five thousand words of pretentious analysis down your throat because, and I do not exaggerate, I think it is one of, if not the best written game I have ever played. And I have played a lot of games, including Baldur’s Gate 3, Final Fantasy XIV and Undertale, to name a few narrative luminaries to come to mind.

That wordcount is not an exaggeration. My brainworms are extremely powerful and now you can share them with me as I walk you through my insane skyscraper of inference-driven analysis.

Or you can click away. I really wouldn’t blame you, it’s quite a lot.

Content Warnings: …Yes?

(To drop the bit for a moment, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley covers extremely disturbing material and challenges you to examine aspects of living in this world that many have taken for granted all their life, it is not a comfortable game, this will cover similar topics and will often echo the game’s unremitting scepticism on basic principles of society and humanity and you should look after yourself first. My Content Warning is framed as a joke, but it’s also quite real in that the game is designed to make you uncomfortable and there’s no shame in that not being for you.)

This was originally posted on and formatted for Sufficient Velocity, and you can probably more easily read and discuss it with me here.

With that said, let’s dig in. I have had to split this into multiple posts because tumblr will only allow so many images. There will be spoilers for all endings.

She’s excited, are you?

It’s All About Ashley

It really is, isn’t it? I mean, for approximately eighty percent of the total game as currently released and the entirety of Episode 1, you’re in control of Ashley, just as she’s in control of her and Andrew’s relationship for 80% of the game, up until the various ending sequences where it begins to slip. The only other characters who really matter at all in and of themselves are Andrew and her mother — and the former is under her thumb, and she eats the latter. It’s all about Ashley. Even her obsession with Andrew is, ultimately, about Ashley.

But who is Ashley? What is Ashley? Why is Ashley, even? Let’s take a look.

Ashley as presented to us in Episode 1 is very straightforward, so let’s list off the traits we’re given — she is malicious, she is fearless, she lacks empathy, she doesn’t have anything resembling a conscience, she demands Andrew belong to her and her alone, she has him at her beck and call.

In Episode 2, we’re ostensibly shown how she has him at her beck and call— she leverages the threat of reporting Nina’s death over him and had him swear to be with her forever. We’re shown that even as a child she was “just, like that” — but as a child, she hadn’t learnt to live with it yet, to laugh at the farce of it all.

Yeah, exactly like that!

And she does this throughout Episode 1 — The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a remarkably silly game much of the time, finding moments of absurdity and levity against a backdrop blacker than pitch — and most of the time, your internal narration is coming from Ashley and the jokes will not-infrequently come at her own expense.

She will later get negged by her human sacrifice for her poor ritual circle drawing

Her reaction to being told that her soul is as dark and viscous as tar is “You guess you already knew that” — it’s confirmation to her, not new information. Ashley knows who she is. But who taught her this? There’s layers to this, nothing in this game is as simple and straightforward as it appears at first sight, which is why I’ve been obsessing over it for days.

While it’s common in fiction, the truth of the matter is, most ‘bad people’ really do think they’re good people. But Ashley has never once thought of herself as a good person — or perhaps better put as a person worthy of love — as we learn across Episodes 1 & 2, with our flashbacks to Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!!

I really wish I had space in this essay to talk about this, but I’d like to touch on these being traits usually more easily forgiven in young boys than young girls at some point.

If she removes all other options, only then can she expect him to like her.

This is something that is echoed in the modern day — her seeming self-assurance is easily shaken and she reaches out to the world — usually Andrew — to affirm and validate her, soothing her insecurities, using any tool she deems necessary. Even when her life is on the line when Andrew has her by the throat at the climax of Episode 1, the only ‘compelling reason’ she can give Andrew to not kill her is her ability to soothe his nightmares. When he tells her there are sleeping pills for that…

Most people would have a bit more to argue for their existence.

While she, unlike Andrew, acknowledges having had friends before the quarantine… you know she’s got a point that they didn’t even bother to answer her calls, that was clearly not something the state was interfering with given Andrew’s calls with his mother and his girlfriend, and given her general demeanour it’s not hard to imagine that… they weren’t ever very close. When we see her and Nina talk in the infamous ‘box scene’, it’s clear that Nina doesn’t like her very much, despite Andrew’s assessment of Nina as being one of Ashley’s friends.

We see further support for her general lack of companionship in her dream sequence in the Burial route — Leyley and Leyley Alone. No matter what you do, you can’t place the pink plushy at the family table, the flowers won’t bloom if you give the Julia and Nina plushies her own as a companion instead of Andrew’s — and if you’re bold enough to go for the ‘incest route’, in the ‘Love’ room you see that no one ever looks happy to be with her in the childlike depictions of her history, nor is she happy in turn, save for when she’s with Andrew. In a bit of heavy-handed metaphor, the player then overwrites all of these tense, upset, hard moments with Andrew, having him fill in for everyone else in life — and happy with her.

Once Upon A Lousy Life…

THE END

And that’s why she needs him to affirm her, because no one else ever has and no one else ever will. It’s even included in their comic beats — when the siblings are getting along well, they’ll often play a game where Andrew dramatically overpraises Ashley while she demands more; it’s a comedic bit but I mean — it really does matter to her!

For the record, she opened a door. She gets a little heart in a speech bubble after this exchange.

We have a great example of this dynamic, that of insecurity and affirmation, in Episode 1, after Andrew has killed for her, butchered for her, his girlfriend broke up with her, he’s seemingly thrown his entire life away for her… she’s still insecure over her relationship with him, she’s uncertain of her control and she needs him to reaffirm it for her.

This is her victory, surely?

Andrew affirms her once, with his usual dead-eyed look.

But she's still not so sure.

He actively reaches out to affirm her again with cheer.

Look how happy she is!

While it’s most obvious and clear cut here, it’s hardly the only case. Let’s look back to the aftermath of Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!! (I’m not using the other name). Leyley is, after similarly extreme acts — he murdered a girl and hid her body for her — convinced Andy doesn’t like her and she needs this leverage to keep him around, to meet her basic needs for survival. Because that’s what this is — she receives no care of affection elsewhere, so she forces it out of the only source she sees available through the means she sees as necessary.

I really hope we see some of their earlier childhood in Episode 3

What exactly made her like this? Was it just neglect, or something more specific…

She needs this to be the case because otherwise she doesn’t believe he’d stay.

This pattern repeats throughout — Ashley’s insecurities are hit on and she reaches out to Andy to affirm that she is not alone, and she will use any and every tool to exploit her ostensible control over him and force him to be what she needs him to be — and as long as she has that, as long as she is everything to him and it’s not possible for him to leave, she’s happy. As long as she thinks he loves her in her very particular, very peculiar view of love, she’s content, come what may. As long as Andy and Leyley are together, they can take on the world.

Let’s talk about that view of love, because there’s always more layers to unpack here I’m only scratching the surface with this essay — Ashley consistently refers to anyone else Andrew may have befriended or spent time with as a whore, a slut, a bitch — highly gendered insults that bring to mind the idea that he’s cheating in some way. But it’s not even about sex — when Andrew mentions that their parents had friends, she accuses them of cheating on each other in the same way!

There’s a lot to unpack about Ashley’s view of femininity and the role the patriarchy plays in their relationship.

Any kind of emotional engagement, any kind of commitment, any kind of life outside of your significant other is, to Ashley, cheating. Because that’s what she needs from Andrew, a seeming complete and total commitment, secure in her place as the only thing in his life, because she cannot understand anyone picking her if they have a choice.

This insecurity she has in her relationship is what drives her to empower the trinket — he can’t leave her as long as she can protect him with prophetic dreams, after all. She needs every kind of leverage she can get because until she succeeds in being everything to him, in devouring him so completely she has him in her thrall mind, body and soul she can’t be sure of herself — hell, her dream sequence in Burial has you placing Andrew’s signature green plushy, ‘the best thing in the world’ in a cage far away from anything else.

Ultimately, it really is all about Ashley — even her seeming obsession with Andrew ultimately comes back to her own insecurities. If she is everything to ‘the best thing in the world’, some of that ‘best’ must surely reflect on her!

But that’s enough about the more normal, straightforward and understandable sibling.

That was not a joke.

Andrew’s Rank 100 Deception

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he did not exist.

Let me explain.

You might have noticed that in the previous section I often use language such as ‘ostensibly’ or ‘seemingly’ to describe Andy and Leyley’s relationship, and there’s a good reason for that. From the beginning of the game through to its end, Andrew is lying to you, the player, without ever falsely representing or misinforming you about events that occurred.

The common, or obvious ‘initial take’ on Andrew as presented in Episode 1 is fairly straightforward. The game primes you to think this way, it frames things and strings reveals just right so as to make it very easy to overlook the incongruities it introduces in Episode 2. He’s a victim. Plain and simple, Ashley is his abuser and he is her victim and would be fine, a normal albeit kinda depressed guy without her.

It really is not a difficult conclusion to draw

You can go all the way through the game, have him try to accept his mother’s olive branch and enter the Decay route as a method for him to finally actualise his desire to get out from Ashley’s thumb and it makes sense, it’s a reasonable way for the story to go, given his character.

You see him this way because the game primes you in Episode 1 to view their relationship like Andrew does — he’s lying. He’s lying to himself, he’s lying to Ashley and he’s so good at it — Deception Rank 100 — he even lies to you. Without misrepresenting a single event or otherwise misleading you directly, the game gets you to buy into his preferred self-perception. Nina? Ashley. Julia? Ashley. The murders they commit in the course of the game? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, it’s not his fault he’s not to blame he’s just a doormat at the beck and call of his demonic sister.

But he wants to be there. From the very outset, the very first puzzle, that’s made clear. Does anyone else remember this exchange, from right at the beginning of the game?

Ashley wants to investigate the music!

Andrew disapproves…

…Or does he?!

Like. Listen. Okay. You do not frown when saying ‘Nope’ and then smile when saying that you’ll instead tag along if they do it if your heart is at all in the no. That’s not an objection, that’s using Ashley as his excuse. Especially if you immediately throw her the balcony key that she could not possibly have gotten from you by force (more on Andrew’s ability to use force later).

This is the very first time you control both characters together with Andrew following Ashley instead of off on his own, the first adventure, the first puzzle!

But put a pin in that for now, let’s talk about his initial framing in Episode 2 first. Episode 1 has set us up to, generally speaking, believe the superficial framing of the siblings as portrayed in its promotional art:

The question that we then ask, right at the heart of it is… why is he a doormat? We explore this in his dream sequence in Episode 2, which does make it clear that the boy’s not okay but— it’s real easy, given the priming from Episode 1 to make you think that he’s the one with the originally functional moral compass, to think that that him being fucked up is damage done to him by Nina’s death and being bound to Ashley for his entire life. She corrupted him.

But, well, is that the case?

You're primed to ignore this as manipulation (which it is) but the best manipulation has some truth to it.

Precisely two things spur Andrew to action in the entire game, consistently — they are the fear of consequences and Ashley. And the first incident of that fear, the very first time we’re shown his seeming moral compass as a kid — the first time it’s really hammered home that it’s a fear of consequences rather than any true moral qualms is after Nina’s death. And why does he fear consequences here?

……

The ‘natural’ read that many take away from this sequence, particularly those who have only played Decay, is that Ashley browbeat him into doing this against his will, using emotional blackmail to overwhelm his objections, and then used the event itself to bind him to her forever as her personal doormat.

In a strict sense, this is true. But this doesn’t match up with the details, something the game uses shock to encourage you to overlook. That outburst is before any kind of threat has been made, and absolutely nothing either of them say anything about it being morally bad until Ashley weaponises ‘you’re a bad person’ against Andrew — morality didn’t seem to enter his mind or the equation at all until Ashley brought it up. More than that, his greatest fear and driving motivation even prior to that is, as shown above, being taken away from Ashley.

She, of course, recognises this and uses it against him. But she never needed to, it didn’t change anything about Andrew’s attachment to her, it was there to address her own insecurities.

Just like to touch on how a lot of his affirmations are preceded by him confirming her insecurities.

I adore this phrasing

There’s a second prong to this as well, to the question of ‘who really calls the shots here’ because — Andrew can, at any stage, apply an ‘ultimate veto’ of physical violence. The game is very clear to the player that that is on the table — even when they were children, when Andy swears their blood oath, he briefly considers killing her — and take note of how he ultimately got a ‘winning’ condition out of her by not specifying there wouldn’t be others and she is forced to accept that, there. Even outside of their most serious confrontations, Ashley is portrayed as having to convince, manipulate or otherwise coerce Andrew into going along with her schemes — she really can’t make him do anything, she doesn’t have the supremacy in violence and, to a lesser extent, capability that would allow her to.

Andrew, you are like ten years old.

The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I don’t mean in the sense that I’m saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this. He needs her.

But it’s true that he hates her, too. He has to hate her, because if he doesn’t hate her, if he isn’t forced to have done this, that means… he’s responsible. And nothing, at the start of the story, is as important to Andrew as avoiding the consequences of his own actions, not even Ashley. By the midpoint, he loves her, he hates her, he can’t live without her, he wants to kill her — by the end… well, that depends if you’re on Decay or Burial, but more on that in a bit.

A great scene to study for this dynamic is the climax of Episode 1, when Andrew grabs Ashley by the throat and considers strangling her to death. She’s pushed him too far with hurtful words and assault, and he’s seemingly had enough.

It’s still framed as a question of risk, of consequences happening to him.

Like, this is not the usual behaviour of someone who’s been pushed past their breaking point.

He tells Ashley that he wants to kill her, because she’s just going to throw another fit and that’s a risk to him. She is… not framed as being able to fight back (she does have a gun here, and more on that in a later essay, maybe). He’s so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence here, which isn’t at all what you’d expect of someone about to commit a crime of passion… but it’s very easy to overlook because of the abuser/victim narrative that the player fits his behaviour into the narrative that the game primes them to accept, brushing incongruities under the carpet.

At the start of Episode 2, we get to control Andrew for the first time, and the first obvious holes in his cover start to show. Some of this is optional — you only learn that he’s been faking having nightmares in order to share a bed with Ashley if you choose to go back into the motel room and check the bed, for example — but not all of it.

----(See reblogs for the second half)

#the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #andrew graves #ashley graves #spoilers #multipost

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grunckle · 3 months

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Qualia and Ascension in Rain World

(To clarify I'm mostly talking about base-game lore and not including Downpour, but honestly most of these things can transfer over)

Qualia

One thing that’s relatively hidden in Rain World’s text and subtext is the concept of qualia. Qualia is described as being, “sensory experiences that have distinctive subjective qualities but lack any meaning or external reference to the objects or events that cause them.” It’s a personal sensory experience that cannot be comprehended by another person other than the individual themself, and are often hard to convey via language.

Qualia is a reoccurring motif in Rain World, but what’s more important is the way in which it’s conveyed to the player. The picture that’s painted is that of a world or civilization that placed a great importance on the individuals’ experience, and it’s shown through pearls or environmental details.

Here are some examples of qualia appearing in the text through pearls.

“It's qualia, or a moment - a very short one. Someone is holding a black stone, and twisting it slightly as they drag their finger across the rough surface. The entire sequence is shorter than a heartbeat, but the resolution is extraordinary.”

“A memory... but not really visual, or even concrete, in its character. It reminds of the feeling of a warm wind, but not the physical feeling but the... inner feeling. I don't think it has much utility unless you are doing some very fringe Regeneraist research.”

“This one... is authored by Five Pebbles, when he was young. There has been an attempt to scramble the data, but it's sloppily done, and most is still somewhat legible. It's written in internal language, or thoughts, so it is hard for me to translate so you would understand.”

But the most prominent examples of qualia and it’s importance in this world are the Memory Crypts and possibly ancient naming conventions. The deep purple pearl (shortened) found in Shaded Citadel states,

“In this vessel is the living memories of Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel, of the House of Braids (…) Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel nobly decided to ascend in the beginning of 1514.008, after graciously donating all (ALL!) earthly possessions to the local Iterator project (Unparalleled Innocence), and left these memories to be cherished by the carnal plane. The assorted memories and qualia include:”

Ancients likely mutated their own neural tissue into the cabinet beasts we see in Shaded, which were used to store their memories and qualia before ascension. Even james said once "how 5 pebs got the rot is a good hint here" in response to someone asking how cabinet beasts work, and how they're made.

Adding on to this, ancient (and iterator) naming conventions seem to be built off of the concept of qualia, with them focusing on individual images or experiences.

Nineteen Spades, Endless Reflections

Droplets upon Five Large Droplets

Two Sprouts, Twelve Brackets

Looks to the Moon

Generally, this all points to a world focused on the expression and preservation of the individual experience. You could even consider some of the echo dialogue as more evidence for this running motif, but I already have too many quotes lol.

Ascension

So now time to talk about my interpretation of ascension. In short, you turn into a worm, but I should probably explain more than that.

So its been surfacing on rw-tumblr that the light in the end of the game is called the egg in files. Although file names shouldn't be taken as fact or canon, it is pretty obvious given the birth imagery.

But something a little lesser known is what happens to the worm that takes us down to the void-sea depths. Void worms normally have a bright glowing effect, on their body, which is present for ours as well. But after it unhooks us, it swims down, and when it passes us on it's way back that glowing effect is gone.

To be honest, I don't really think this can be interpreted in many ways, but the most obvious one and the one I personally subscribe to is that the worm laid the egg. Biology and spirituality really aren't that different in Rain World, it's implied that karma is stored in the brain through Five Pebbles's slideshow. Adding on to that, we see voidspawn after eating an iterator neuron. One's spiritual state is innately tied to their mental state, and that dictates what and what they can't perceive.

And for that reason I decide to take a more biology leaning approach to what happens in the ending. At face value, we are fertilizing the egg of a void worm to be reborn into a voidspawn.

Not only do void spawn and void worms have multiple characteristics in common, (worm like bodies, tendrils/tentacles, glowing heads, void spawn look microbial and void worms are likely some of the oldest "life" in game)

but voidspawn are seen inside egg-like coverings and share the same egg light seen in the end of the game, confirmed to be the same thing by Videocult in a livestream they did.

I believe that all this points to ascension being re-birth into a voidspawn, which eventually undergoes metamorphose into a worm. Higher-dimensional beings, who manifest and give birth to a new world.

So how does this tie in with qualia? Another thing you might know is that the area in which void spawn are most plentiful is Shaded Citadel and areas in Shoreline near Shaded. And shaded is absolutely packed with Cabinet Beasts, even outside Memory Crypts. I believe these qualia-storing creatures are what manifest voidspawn.

From what we see in ascension, it still looks physical and largely based around the real world. Hunter still has his scars and see's an iterator, survivor sees the slug tree in a more mystical and formless state, and monk sees survivor frankly just looking like a normal slugcat. I think that ascension is a product of qualia. We transcend our earthly knowledge via the egg, and our own qualia is used to give birth to a new world. This is why voidspawn appear most in Shaded Citadel.

Now I won't be getting into Void-Worm theories too much here, I'm mostly focused on ascension but I can't ignore the Gnosticism parallels. For those who don't know, Void Worms heavily resemble the Yaldaboath from Gnosticism, along with sharing some similar celestial motifs.

and running with that some people theorize that, like the Yaldabaoth, void worms are responsible for manifesting the material world. Ascension seems to be a mix of the concepts of Gnosis and Nirvana, but I believe it might lean more on Gnosis.

From my limited knowledge, Gnosis is a few things, some of which being a state achieved from experiences or intuitions, and an essential part to salvation is personal knowledge. While researching a bit, I came across this text by Peter Wilberg called "From NEW AGE to NEW GNOSIS" which brings up some comparisons between Gnosticism and qualia as well.

"Gnosis is subjective knowledge of an inner universe made up not of matter, energy, space or time but of countless qualitative spheres or ‘planes’ of awareness – a knowledge obtained directly through inter- subjective resonance. It is the subjective science of this inner universe."

One thing though that has been brought up when discussing this is how this can be consolidated with the tone of the ending. It is pretty un-ambiguously happy, but if we're going with the Void worm Yaldaboath theory then that would put a bit of a sour twist on it right?

I agreed with these for some time, but now I actually think it ties in perfectly with Rain World's core themes as stated by the devs, "overcoming differences and finding empathy." I don't think the void worms are "evil" or malevolent, but I think they (and subsequently us after ascending) play a key role in demonstrating this theme.

By manifesting the physical world, we allow these souls to experience life and develop their own qualia so one day they can ascend themselves. We are shown compassion, and pass it forward.

#rain world #rain world lore #lore #rain world spoilers #gnosticism #gnosis

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lilliumrorum · 4 months

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What does he have that I don't? (Part Two)

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Synopsis: After getting comfortable in your captain's dwelling, you experience a dream involving him, intensifying your desire for the man.

WC: 3k

Content/Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Soft Price, fluff, Cheating, kind of pining?, Wet dreams, Masturbation.

Notes: Sorry this took so long to post, I've had lots of fucking issues with tumblr and I am proper pissed off. Exams have been kicking my ass too, but I'll make sure to write an extra long chapter next time!

In this situation, unlike others, you wouldn't yearn for Simon's touch. The absence of affection from him for months has built a resistance to missing that once addictive sensation. Tears welled up once more as you reflected on the abuse endured just to cling to the shattered fragments of your 'relationship'. Desiring a different reality, you found yourself in a challenging situation, torn between lingering feelings for your lost love and developing admiration for your captain.

Concluding the scorching shower, the realization struck that a towel was forgotten. Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you pondered how such a simple thing could be overlooked. An uneasy hope lingered that the captain remained undisturbed in his slumber, as a preemptive guilt surfaced. The idea of waking him up intensified that internal conflict, leaving you in a contemplative state after the steam had dissipated. Standing there, damp and hesitant, you grappled with the consequences of a neglected towel and the possibility of disrupting your captain's peace.

Your hand unlocked the door, cracking it open just a bit.

"John?"

"Mm?" His deep voice echoed from the couch.

You felt a sense of relief upon realizing he wasn't in bed yet.

"I… may have forgotten to grab a towel," you admitted with a nervous tone.

You heard his soft footsteps moving down the hall and passing by the bathroom. As soon they approached the room you made sure to narrow the crack of the open door, ensuring you wouldn't accidentally flash him. A sturdy silhouette stood behind it, holding a towel. Cautiously peeking around, you gently retrieve it from his grasp.

He stared at you for a moment, gazing at your damp hair and shoulders before seemingly snapping out of it.

"Don't make my floor too wet, Sergeant." He said with a breath before trekking back to the couch.

You slowly closed the door, releasing a heavy breath you didn't realize you were holding. It felt as if butterflies had been swirling around in your stomach, cheeks burning like fire as you tried to comprehend what had just happened. The butterflies were nothing novel; in fact, they were a constant presence. Every time you worked near him your heart fluttered.

The salt-and-pepper mustache that quirked up when he smiled made your heart do flips. His hands, aged yet firm, with thick fingers calloused from years of service made you fantasize about what they would feel like inside you. The quick waves you received when he walked past you, his combat pants fitting him just right made for an easy distraction. Doing paperwork with him late at night presented itself a challenge. Your brain was constantly fuzzy whenever you looked at him.

At this point, you couldn't distinguish whether it was him making you shudder or your own nakedness. The stark contrast in temperature from your shower to the chilling air heightened your eagerness to get dressed. The towel rubbing against your skin brought a soothing sensation to your mind, interrupting your thoughts about him.

"You did so good f'me, lovie. Such a good fucking girl." He praised, slowly pulling out of your fluttering cunt.

You whimpered at the feeling of being empty after being stuffed full for so long.

"I love you, Simon." you whispered breathlessly.

He gazed at you, searching your eyes for some sort of hidden plan, or trickery. He found nothing but adoration.

"I love you too." He whispered as he got up, searching for the towel he had placed somewhere, you reached out and gently wrapped your hand around as much of his toned arm as you could before he moved too far.

He glanced at you, his expression filled with curiosity.

"Si, can you promise me something?"

"What is it doll?"

"Don't leave me."

"What kinda promise is that? I'm never gonna leave you. Hell, I'm stuck on you."

You smiled at his words.

But he broke that promise. He left you, a ghost in his place.

"Captain, is it alright if I get dressed in the bedroom?" You uttered your words with a delicate tone as you stepped out into the hall.

His head shifted in the direction of your voice, his attention lingering on your legs briefly before his gaze ascended to meet your face. He stared at you for what seemed like an eternity. Your posture started to shift as nervousness crept in, especially with his eyes on your barely covered body. He seemed to take notice, offering a smile before he spoke.

"Of course dove, that's where you're sleeping anyway." He spoke with a tone that held weariness.

"Oh no you don't ha-" as soon as you spoke you were interrupted.

"I said that's where you're sleepin' and that's that. Don't argue with me, sergeant." He commanded.

You raised your hands in the air, signaling surrender, before letting out a laugh and walking back to his bedroom.

The scent of everything was reminiscent of him, when you opened his closet, the aroma of cinnamon and pine struck you instantly. You breathed in his scent and felt a bit more at ease. Why did everything about him have to evoke such a strong sense of comfort and familiarity?

If you didn't move past this childlike crush soon, you'd end up with more issues than you're already grappling with. He could be your father for Christ's sake!

You shook your head, as if the thought would dissipate, while grabbing some pajama shorts and a tank top. The clothes were rather revealing, but John would surely understand if he saw them. Your intention was to return home to Simon, not to him. When you left, there was no time to retrieve your clothes, as you aimed to escape the situation as smoothly as possible.

Your body ached for sleep, going without it for what seemed like ages.

Turning the light off and slipping into bed, a subtle shift occurred in your thoughts, and the image of John began to weave its way into your consciousness like a gentle melody. In the calm moments preceding sleep, his laughter echoed, and the warmth of his gaze painted the canvas of your contemplations. The memory of John intertwined seamlessly with the comforting embrace of his sheets, creating a space where the lines between reality and the fanciful dance of imagination became hazy. With each closing of your eyes, dreams unfolded, casting John as the silent protagonist in the tales that quietly unfolded in the realm of your weary mind.

In the silent corners of your thoughts, dreams took shape, painting a picture where you were romantically involved with John. Scenes of stolen glances and hidden meetings unfolded, with the forbidden nature of it all adding an exhilarating edge to the fantasy. In these vivid dreams, shared moments created a connection that surpassed the ordinary reality surrounding you. However, these fantasies were kept as a personal refuge—a brief escape within the private chambers of your mind, where the blurred lines of possibility flirted with the edges of longing.

"Tell me what you want, dove. What do you need from me?" he breathed in a solaced whisper.

His rugged hands worked at your body, roaming across your naked form as you tried your hardest to utter a word, mumbling nonsense. He hadn't taken your panties off yet, the cloth becoming more and more wet by the second.

"Words, sweetheart. I need to know what you want from me." His fingers teasing your clit in soft, circular motions.

"John- Oh shit! I need them inside! Please!" You practically sobbed.

Everything in this moment completed you. His waist was stationed between your legs as he continued his ministrations on your cunt. At this point you were a whining mess for him. You were too distracted with your pleasure to realize he had pulled your panties to the side, thick fingers lined up with your sopping hole.

"God, you're perfect."

The captain's eyes snapped open upon hearing sounds emanating from the bedroom. Initially thinking it might be crying, he knocked on the door once.

With no response, he opened the door to investigate, finding you helplessly whimpering and pressing your thighs together in your sleep.

He was well Aware that intruding was not right, but he lingered a little longer, drawn by the sweet serenade of your voice. Going back to bed at this moment seemed impossible for him. His cock straining against his pants as discomfort grew, urging him to address it promptly.

He treaded back to the couch, every step carrying an enduring strain to his crotch. Fuck, those noises were driving him wild.

He knows it's not right, yet he pulled out his erection anyway. He needed relief, blood rushing to the tip as it sprung out of his pants. His arousal was yearning for a momentary reprieve.

He groaned as he started fisting his cock, guttural groans coming from his chest as he chased his release. His eyes fluttered closed, Imagining you spread out for him, begging for whatever he could give you. Your pretty body writhing underneath him while you worked in sync to reach that peak. Nails scratching at his back with each forceful thrust of his hips. He tried to stay as silent as he could, listening to the melody of your sounds. He tried to savor your sounds, prolonging his orgasm to the best of his ability. He couldn't hold it any longer, somewhat embarrassed at how fast he was going to finish.

The familiar feeling of his climax began to reach him, his lower abdomen flexing harshly with each stroke.

"Fuck"

His sticky cum flowed over him fingers as it spilled out from his twitching tip.

This was wrong, but god did it feel so fucking right.

Throughout the night, Simon couldn't shake the image of your shocked and saddened expression from his thoughts. All he longed for was to have you back with him at home. Who the fuck were you with anyway?

As the minutes stretched into hours, Simon's chest tightened with an unsettling jealousy. The anticipation of your return became a weighty burden, and the quiet emptiness of the house echoed his longing. He had watched you leave, hope clinging to the belief that you would soon walk back through the door. However, as the night wore on and you failed to return, that hope transformed into a bitter ache. Each passing moment fueled the jealousy that churned within him, a mix of fear and insecurity. The empty house seemed to mock his unspoken yearning, amplifying the silence that enveloped him in a suffocating embrace.

The air hung heavy with tension when Johnny left the house, the weight of your discovery lingering in the strained atmosphere. The revelation of the affair had cast a pall over the once-shared space, leaving behind a palpable sense of betrayal. The door closed with a hollow finality, echoing the rupture in trust that now defined the relationship. He laid there in your empty bed, the aftermath of your revelation settling like dust in the room, and the emptiness of the departing footsteps mirrored the void that now consumed the once-shared moments with Johnny. The silence that followed was deafening, amplifying your absence.

When you left he was still pent up with arousal, so him and Johnny went a couple rounds, but he soon had to leave to get enough rest before the sun rose. With both of you no longer present, he truly began to realize he was alone.

Jealousy gnawed at Simon as he grappled with the unsettling uncertainty of your whereabouts. Each passing moment fueled his imagination, and he found himself consumed by thoughts of who you might be staying with. The unanswered questions echoed in his mind, creating a symphony of doubt and insecurity. The image of someone else occupying the space meant for him sparked a surge of possessiveness, leaving him yearning for the reassurance that you were still his. The silent house became a canvas for his anxious thoughts, and the suspense of not knowing intensified the monster within him, clouding his emotions with a turbulent mix of suspicion and anger.

Just who the fuck did you think you were, leaving like that?

He felt his jaw clench, thinking of you with someone other than him.

Every thought of someone else near you ignited a primal instinct to claim and protect what he considered his own. The mere idea of sharing your presence with another set off a storm of dominance, intensifying his need to assert his presence in your life. It was as if an invisible tether bound him to you, and the thought of anyone encroaching upon that connection stirred a fierce determination to safeguard what he considered rightfully his.

Sleep eluded him, elusive as his thoughts were ensnared in a web of restlessness. The weight of emotions, a mix of envy, dominance, and yearning, kept him tossing and turning in the dim silence of his bedroom. The shadows on the walls seemed to dance to the rhythm of his unsettled mind, casting a surreal atmosphere that mirrored the turmoil within. The bed, usually a sanctuary, became a battleground for his inner struggles. The clock's ticking echoed like a constant reminder of the sleep he desperately sought but remained just out of reach. The night stretched on, a canvas painted with the shades of his unquiet thoughts, as he wrestled with the myriad emotions that held him captive in the wake of the events that unfolded.

Awakening to the robust aroma of tea wafting into your nose, you stretched out your well-rested limbs before swinging your legs over the side of the captain's bed. The lingering remnants of the dream from the night before clouded your thoughts, creating a palpable tension in the air. As you pondered how to navigate the interaction with him, uncertainty hung like a veil. The simple act of rising from the bed felt like stepping onto uncharted territory, and the fragrant tea served as a reminder of the shared space that had witnessed the intimate contours of your dreams. The challenge ahead lay in reconciling the vivid images of the night with the reality of the morning, as you grappled with the aftermath of the subconscious journey that now lingered between you and the captain.

You approached the bedroom door, turning the handle and stepping into the hallway that led to the kitchen. The journey down the corridor felt like a deliberate exploration, each step carrying a subtle anticipation. As you entered the kitchen, a captivating sight awaited you – the captain, turned away, engrossed in some task involving the kettle. The play of muscles beneath his skin was a spectacle, every inch defined and visible, yet soft. His silhouette painted a picture of strength and concentration, a moment frozen in time that captured the essence of his physicality. The air in the kitchen seemed charged with an energy that transcended the simple act of making tea, as you silently observed, feeling both a sense of intimacy and a respectful distance in the presence of this private moment.

"Good morning, Sergeant. thought I'd get some tea ready for ya."

You listened intently, and there was a warmth in the captain's voice as he completed the tea-making ritual. Even though you couldn't see his face, the audible smile in his words painted a vivid picture. The sound carried a gentle resonance, echoing the pleasure he took in the simple act of preparing tea. It was a melody of contentment, and the timbre of his voice conveyed a subtle joy that surpassed the mundane task. As you stood there, the audible smile became a shared moment in the quiet kitchen, a connection forged through the familiar sounds of morning rituals and the understanding that lingered between you and the captain.

"Thank you, Captain. For all of this. I owe you one."

The dual impact of your words and the vivid recollection combined to color his complexion with a subtle embarrassment. It was as if the mere mention of his title held a key to unlock a realm of thoughts he hadn't anticipated sharing. The involuntary flush revealed a vulnerability, a momentary glimpse into a private mental landscape stirred by arousal that lingered beyond the confines of last night. In that fleeting blush, a complex interplay of emotions unfolded, creating a connection between now and what he had done last night that had left its mark on the captain's waking thoughts.

"You owe me nothin', dove. Hush up and drink your tea." He uttered, handing you a partially hot cup of the chamomile beverage.

"Anything planned for today?" You asked while softly blowing on your tea.

"PT, but It's going to be different today, so don't you worry about lieutenant."

His words had the exact opposite effect on you. You were most definitely worrying about Simon.

Taglist: @ttsbaby01 @waves-against-a-cliff @konigslittleliebling @imjustheretofightforlove @beebeechaos @mikimumiki @splaterparty0-0

#cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #soapghost #ghost angst #ghost x reader #john price #john price x reader #john price smut #ghost smut #ghoap x reader #john price fluff

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kangnina · 30 days

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MDNI - Naïve!Jungwon 8 - ... because he's really out to get us 🔥

You stare at your bedroom ceiling, unable to sleep. Jungwon’s words echoing in your mind: “I’m not a virgin. I just really, really like making you beg me to fuck you.” You scoff to yourself. The fucking audacity. When you first laid eyes on him, you thought he was adorable. Quiet. Shy. Studious. You wanted to ruin him. You assumed it would be quick and easy. You assumed Jungwon was naïve and that he would instantly fall for your womanly charms. Yet, you’ve been pursuing him for months. You never expected to be chasing him. You weren’t so sure he actually wanted to be caught by you either. It’s all a game to him. But he showed his hand. If he likes to make you beg, you’ll just stop begging him.

😩😩😩😩😫

It’s been a week and you are still trying to fight the urge to contact Jungwon. He hasn’t contacted you either. You thought it would get easier but it hasn’t. You pathetically cry out his name whenever you cum on your dildo. But knowing he’s much bigger than it just makes your longing for him even worse. Sitting around your apartment isn’t helping. You’ve already cleaned every square inch of it just to keep yourself busy. So you decide to go have lunch at your favorite off-campus cafe. You’re doom scrolling Tumblr and shoveling in your sandwich when a voice behind you makes you jump. “Never thought you’d give up so easily, Noona.” You look up to see Jungwon’s smile as he gives a cute little wave. Your mouth is still full as you stare at him. He points at a table of people across the cafe. “New interns lunch,” he answers your unasked question. You were not prepared to see him so you’re not really sure what to say. Instinct tells you to flirt. Maybe it’s best if you keep your mouth full of food. You nod at him and continue chewing, trying to subdue the internal panic. He sits down across from you. Jungwon takes off his glasses and reaches into his pocket to pull out a small cloth. He stares at you, parting his soft pink lips. He gently breathes on the lens. Why is that so attractive? He cleans his glasses with the cloth, holding them out and checking for smudges. You are losing your mind over how beautiful he is. You imagine his brows furrowed with pleasure, his eyes filled with pussy drunk desire while you ride his face. “Cat got your tongue?” he says huskily, interrupting your thoughts. Before you can respond, a guy calls out to Jungwon and tells him it’s time to head back to the office. Jungwon puts his glasses back on, getting up from his seat. “See ya later. Your place at 8.” He didn't wait for your response because it wasn't a question.

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

You open your door to see Jungwon without his glasses, dressed in all black. Leather jacket. Ripped jeans. Bad boy trope. “Hi Noona. Did you miss me?” he asks, his eyes soft and innocent as he looks at you. You know it’s a trap. But you are still hoping that maybe if you hold back, he’ll get frustrated and give in first. “Hey Jungwon, would you like something to drink?” you politely offer as he sits on the couch. “Water please. Thank you.” You retrieve two water bottles from your refrigerator. When you return to your living room, he looks a little sad. “What’s wrong?” you ask, handing him a bottle and taking a seat on the couch, careful not to sit too close to him. “No skirt?” he gestures to your jeans and hoodie. You shake your head. You knew if you wore your trademark short skirt and heels, you would be setting yourself up for failure. “Are you mad at me?” he asks, tilting his head, giving you a small pout and doe eyes. “Stop that,” you say looking away. “Stop what? Are you mad at me, Noona?” he whispers, leaning closer. Your heart races but you don’t move away from him. His face is so close to yours but he stops short of kissing you. It’s the first time you’ve ever smelt cologne on him. Smoky cedarwood. It’s intoxicating. Jungwon is really playing dirty and you don’t think you can win this round. Your legs are pressed together, your fingernails digging into your thighs. Your panties are getting wetter by the second. There’s no way he can’t feel the heat radiating from you. “Jungwonie,” is the only word you can say. Even that sounds more pitiful than you intended. He smiles, dimples peeking. Oh god, please! Jungwon just fuck me already! your brain is screaming. You bite your lip. Jungwon pulls back and clicks his tongue, studying you. “Hmph. You really can behave– when you try. I’m impressed.” You side eye him. He smiles deviously. “BUT we both know your my bad girl and you love it when I put you in your place.” That is the final straw. All restraint, self control– whatever twisted denial game you two have been playing for the past week– goes out the goddamn window when you try to tackle him onto his back. You underestimate him yet again. Jungwon is quick. He spins you both onto the floor, his arms under your head and back to soften your landing. “Fuck!” you utter in surprise before his lips crash onto yours.

Naïve!Jungwon 9

@moonlightndaydreams @snoopypupp

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fairuzfan · 2 months

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why do so many liberal zionists add "non-palestinian" in front of "non-jewish" whenever they complain about antizionists and insist that all the palestinians are just offscreen agreeing with them about the real way to peace? do they not realize palestinians have social media accounts or are they just banking on everyone else also isolating themselves in a zionist echo chamber with no actual palestinians to contradict them? bc theyre not convincing anyone who knows that every single palestinian on here and online in general fucking hates them. like i know it's a rhetorical darvo to paint antizionism as a privileged western gentile position of ppl that can't possibly understand the complex issue who just want to hate Bad Jews but its so insane to see them rbing literal palestinians to call them raging antisemites and then the next post is about how every palestinian actually supports a two state solution and condemns hamas and this is spearheaded by "western tankie gentiles"

i havent been like interacting with zionists or looking at their blogs these past couple months because i can't take that much anger in my life anymore and ive come to the point where it doesn't matter what they say they're seriously intellectually dishonest and useless. the people who listen to them and agree with them have a vested interest in keeping the state of israel functioning and if they wanna pretend its for "peace" go right ahead but dont pretend like youre the authority on these things lol. in general ive only taken to reblogging zionist additions to my posts to let people know to block.

it might be the latest zionist strategy of saying "non palestinians and nonjews" to reinforce the idea that its an "internal" issue (which its not to be clear) and they proceed to ignore the fact that palestinians are begging people to get involved to help them. but whatever! the people who are convinced by them at this point are people who genuinely dont care about palestinians at all and i am not willing to argue with them on this.

i will say, zionists on here have become more brazenly pro-fascist! either in interacting with fascists or letting fascist speak in their spaces or even just defending them under the guise of "defending jews" (think of the bingo blocklist. they're still at it btw, the bingo board, but like i have yet to see a single person on the zionist side of tumblr at all admonish the idea of the bingo at all which is telling in itself.) anyways these people are disgusting and selfish and like i say, i abhor selfishness more than anything.

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arcielee · 10 months

Text

dōna mandia

Summary: Her brothers convince her to play a game of hide-and-seek. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Reader, Aegon Targaryen x Reader Word Count: 4085 WARNINGS/THIS IS A DARK FIC: Targcest, with she/her pronouns, MDNI, 18+ Dubcon, inexperience, fingering, implied sexual themes, oral (m and f receiving), p in v, anal, double penetration, rough sex. Author's Note: Thank you @hamatoanne for being my muse and inspiring this depravity. Thank you to @sylas-the-grim for beta reading and perfecting. And a huge thank you to @aemonds-fire for helping me with my Tumblr settings that had me ripping my hair out. 💜 Anyway, this is what you wanted from this poll. I hope you are all happy with yourselves. 😂

Valyrian translations: mēre, lanta, hāre is one, two, three dōna mandia is sweet sister

Tumblr kindred spirits: @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii

“Come, sweet sister,” Aegon whispered into the shell of her ear. She felt the warmth of his palms through the layers of silk worn, her robe and her nightgown, with his intimate touch to her lower back to guide her.

She paused for a moment and peered back at her twin. Aemond had covered his one eye, his sapphire glinting from the lighting of the room as his timbre rumbled the numbers off in Old Valyria. “Mēre,” he began, with a slight curl to his lips.

“With me,” Aegon urged, his other hand interlacing with her own to pull, and she could not help the giggle that slipped from her lips as she followed him.

Aemond continued behind them, a low echo against the cobblestone. “...lanta…hāre…”

It was childish, she supposed, but welcomed after the somber family meal earlier this evening. Her brothers then stole away to her chambers, the mischievous grin paired with the suggestion from Aegon that they play hide-and-seek, as they had as children.

But that had been a lifetime ago, long before the internal warfare of the House of the Dragon inevitably spilled its destruction across Westeros.

Her brothers, Daeron as well, had all fought valiantly and victory was had–but at what cost, she often wondered. Rhaenyra was dead, along with their uncle and nephews, and their dragons as well. The smaller children, the ones with the blood of Old Valyria apparent in their veins, had been sent to Old Town with the assurance to raise them with the absolute truth of what happened.

But she knew that the truth would be written by the victors.

Their grandsire served as Lord Hand still, an advocate to reinstate the peace disrupted. This burden shifted on her and her siblings, as Aegon was now king without question, and now the sole focus was to mend the rift between realms, a new age of serenity with his reign. As part of this, their grandsire announced her betrothal to a Northern house, as if she were an olive branch to be extended to the perpetual snow to never be retrieved.

Her pain was written plainly on her lovely features, but their grandsire spoke his words with a sense of finality; it seemed to be no hope to dissuade his mind.

This was how her brothers found her–“Sulking prettily,” Aegon cooed as her handmaiden finished braiding her silver tresses back, dressed already in a pale silk and ready for bed.

Once they were alone, Aegon had brought up this childhood game. What had convinced her, though, was when her twin, Aemond, who was the personified reason knitted amongst them all, seemed almost akin to the idea. His perpetual smirk played at his lips when he offered to be the seeker first.

And now she padded softly along to keep pace with Aegon, breathless, almost gleeful, as they tore through the empty corridors, hands held as they weaved through the silent castle before coming to a door she recognized all too well.

“This is Aemond’s room,” and her voice trailed off with its uncertainty.

Aegon returned his hand to her lower back, his other now grasping onto her forearm. There was a darkness that flickered over his features, but his smirk was quick to brighten, an emotion gone with a heartbeat before she could even register. A coaxing whisper to guide her across the threshold: “This is the one place he would not think us to go.”

It was a room she knew with an intimate familiarity, with an ingress that connected and weaved through the walls, leading back to her own. When they were children, Aemond often would slip into her bed at night, her honeyed tones to soothe him to sleep, and when he had lost his eye, she would go visit with him and listen while Vhagar’s roars reverberated throughout the Keep.

It was tidy, as always, maintained and meticulous, which suited her twin. His musk lingered over, something that was so uniquely his own: the hint of smoke with leather, his skin scrubbed clean with the bath oils gifted from Dorne, the amber and the ash.

It was something that held onto her clothes whenever she would return to her room in the early mornings.

Now, she followed Aegon with timid steps as he moved towards the wardrobe further back, standing tall and solid. He opened to be greeted with the smell of Aemond, mixed with the cedar chips placed to keep the moths away. He then stepped in first, turning to reach for her once he realized her hesitation rooted her to the cobblestone; his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her in, closing the door behind.

It was dark, save the crack between the paneled doors that allowed the bit of golden light from the hearth and the tapers still lit to spill in. Aegon nestled against her, a warmth emitting from him, and her backside flushed against his chest. His one hand moved to her hip while the other began to draw soothing circles against her stomach, an almost tingling sensation through her silk.

She squirmed slightly, an inadvertent hum from his touch; the close proximity and his clashing scent–a soothing mixture of lavender and tea tree oil–caught her breath in her throat. She blushed, her hand fumbling on top of his own, so small in comparison, and he pressed the imprint of his palm to her stomach, the other gripping into her hip bone.

She shivered from his hold, from the warmth that began to pool between her thighs. “Aegon,” she breathed.

He moved to place his hand over her mouth. “Quiet, sister,” and his chin pressed onto her shoulder, his hot whisper tickled with his low baritone and his hold tightened around her waist.

She paused, alert for an indication that Aemond had finally come to the room to find them, but there was only a heavy silence punctuated by the crackle from the fireplace. Aegon burned against her, a pillar of warmth that settled over like a fog, thick with the quiet, almost suffocating in the enclosed space. His hold on her hip loosened and his hand began to trail the flow of silk to the soft divot between her thighs, his fingers moving to trace the outline of her cunt against the thin material.

“Sister,” his tone was dark, but she felt the curl of his lips against her ear. “You are bare beneath this.”

Only his hold on her mouth kept her from reminding him that she had meant to go to bed, but instead she had been caught up in this insipid game–but the thought choked on the fog from his continued motion. His fingers deftly found her slit and he dragged his center digit upwards between, a featherlight touch that seemed to scorch through the length of her spine. She moaned, soft and muted, against his palm.

“Pull up your skirt,” he hissed, moving to cup her cunt fully.

She jolted from his touch, scrambling to bunch the fabric around her hips; the air was cool against her thighs and the wetness between.

Aegon groaned against her skin. “So wet for me, sweet sister,” and he pulled her closer, grinding against her backside, his defined hardness pressing into the softness of her arse.

She mewled and it was muffled still, drawing a dark chuckle of satisfaction from Aegon. “You like that?” and he repeated the movement, his fingers now spreading her silken folds and the silver hair that lined them. “If I remove my hand, will you be a good girl and stay quiet for me?”

His hold only relaxed with the frantic bob of her head and his hand moved to push aside her braid to allow his tongue to run the column of her neck to behind her ear, almost panting against her skin. She shuddered against him. “So soft,” and her skin prickled with the low rumble of his praise, “so wet,” and his one finger curled within, searching until she began to melt, arching against him with a desperation to feel the friction again, his length hard and heavy against.

She pressed backwards and Aegon drew a sharp intake of air before he tilted his chin, his teeth sinking into the junction of her neck, suckling until she left out a small whine, “–Aegon.”

“Quiet,” he hissed again before returning his focus to the curl of his fingers within her velvet walls, to the movement of his hips grinding against. His touch was practiced, precise, and he was now knuckle deep, which allowed the ridge of his palm enough pressure that further ignited the coiled passion building in her lower abdomen.

She gasped with each stroke as he continued his simultaneous ministrations, the mixture of his kisses and nibbles on the curve of her neck, the love bites that would linger but right now brought her to the precipice of something she had never felt before–

–and the doors swung open, where Aemond stood, arms wide, his hair disheveled and his expression unreadable.

Her eyes widened, burning from her embarrassment, burning from her release; she tried to close her thighs, but Aegon pulled it from her, against her own volition and with a startled cry. She trembled from her peak, the flush of color that spilled from her cheeks, to her neck and to her chest, her nipples pressing against the silk and her chest heaving with her labored breath.

Aegon wore his smug satisfaction, pressing a soft kiss to her neck and his eyes never leaving Aemond.

But his sharp features seemed unsurprised by the spectacle. “You are insatiable, brother,” and he grabbed her, pulling her from the confines of the wardrobe. “Your impatience knows no end.”

The silk spilled to cover her leaden legs, her steps staggered but he was quick to catch her. His large palms held her steady, to meet with his bicolor gaze; his sapphire gleamed and his lavender eye trailed her curves, almost admiring. He then dragged her towards the bed, pushing her backwards against it.

“Oh, but I have only prepared her for you,” Aegon continued as he stepped out, his silver hair mussed and his satisfaction bold on his features as he licked his fingers clean.

She wished her voice to not sound so childish with her question. “P-prepare me?”

Aegon tutted condescendingly. “Just as we did with Helaena, and she took us both so well,” he grinned, relishing in the new flush of color that stained her cheeks with the implication of his tone. “You cannot truly believe we would ever allow you to be off to some Northern house as a prize?”

Her heart fluttered with hope, like a captured bird against its cage, and her fingers pressing into the mattress to hold herself upright to look back at Aemond. He stepped closer to touch her, his hand large and warm, his slender fingers sliding to hold the back of her neck, to hold her attention. “I would never allow that,” he vowed, and then he pulled her to stand again.

She had always considered her twin to be handsome, as breathtaking as the sapphire stone he had placed in his scarred socket. It was his melancholy mien that called to her heart; there was a severity that lined his features, that sharpened as the years passed and chiseled away at the remains of his boyhood. After the war was won, she often wondered, she hoped, that she would be given to him, as Helaena had been given to Aegon…

Her eyelashes fluttered when she looked up at him, warming from the close proximity. “Aemond…”

“Trust me,” and Aemond pressed closer.

It was her first kiss and it swept the air from her lungs, his mouth soft and warm and wanting against her own. A soft moan spilled from her and his tongue curled against her own, his gradual pace to allow her time to taste, to allow her own want to begin rekindling within.

Her hands trembled when they reached for his collar, pulling him closer, and he hummed his satisfaction, a vibration throughout; his arm wrapped around the small of her waist, a guiding press back against the bed edge. Her layers of silk were disrobed and puddled on the cobblestone, a heat radiating from her bareness now shown to Aemond and she saw how his pupil swallowed the color of his eye.

Aemond discarded his tunic, his long and lithe form decorated with scars from the Dance of the Dragons, bold colors with some fading to silver. He pressed between her plush thighs, his slender fingers now digging into their softness for hold, pulling her towards the edge until her cunt pressed against the bulge of his trousers.

Another moan spilled from her kiss-swollen lips from the clothed pressure, and Aemond dipped forward, the soft tickle of his silver hair against her skin and his lips trailing the curve of her jaw with an open mouth kiss to the soft divot beneath her ear.

“Lay back on the bed,” was his breathless command.

She trembled to move herself but paused when her eyes darted back to see Aegon in the shadows, still standing, still watching rapt. His tunic was now untucked and showed off the hard peaks of his chest beneath, his hand dipping past his waistline with a slow palming of the length of his shaft, with wine stained blotches on his cheeks.

Aemond captured her mouth, pushing her back onto the bed, his kiss searing with his desperation, his hunger, with the clash of teeth and his tongue curling against the roof of her mouth. She panted, flustered from the attention, flustered with the echo of Aegon’s words–she took us both so well. Even then, plumes of pink bloomed on her pale skin as his kiss stoke the embers of her passion. “Aemond,” she breathed him in, her head light.

He hummed against her neck, moving lower so his mouth could appreciate her curves. He paused at her chest, his tongue flickering over the peaks of her nipples before trailing lower to the soft of her stomach with hot, wet kisses moving towards her core.

She sighed, she squirmed with each placed kiss and as he nestled between, his breath warm against the glisten from her first climax, and her arousal from his touches.

“She tastes so sweet, brother,” Aegon rasped.

Aemond hummed against her cunt, his fingers soft to touch, his lips pressing an intimate kiss to the bloom above her entrance. She arched her back with a sharp cry, sensitive still, and he pinched her thigh.

“Dōna mandia,” his husky tone sent bolts up her spine. “Be quiet.”

Her hands clamped over her mouth as he began to lap the bundle of nerves discovered this night, and he drank her essence unabashedly. His fingers curled within, his touch somewhat similar to Aegon’s but thoughtful, searching until he felt the beginning flutter of her walls. There was the sinful squelch of her wet cunt and she let out a choked sound against her palm, the threat of tears pearling in her eyes–

Then he stopped.

She let out a whine and pushed to her elbows, the flush of rose that tinged her intimately in all the right places, the rise and fall of her chest and her nipples still peaked with her denied pleasure. Aemond watched her, removing his trousers, the hint of satisfaction fleeting with how her eyes widened at the sight of him bare; he then moved to the cradle of her hips, his head dipping with the glisten on his lips and chin, an unfamiliar taste with his sweet kiss.

Aemond pressed against her, hot and heavy. “Sweet sister,” and he sounded apologetic. “This will hurt.”

Once again a hand clamped over her mouth, halting her gasp as he lined to press against her entrance. Aemond groaned into her neck with his gentle thrusts that burned, that stretched as he pushed into her and she writhed pitifully beneath him, the tears now spilling with her muffled sob.

“I know, I know,” his low tone was soothing, his breath tickling the curve of her neck as he continued the slow rut of his hips against her, his hold relaxing for a chaste kiss.

She gasped against his mouth. The burn, the ache dimming with his each thrust and she felt the blossom of a newer sensation that began to trickle through her veins, a coiling passion as he filled her; It was something deeper than neither his hands of Aegon’s reached before. She shuddered against him, her cheeks wet and her fingers curling into his slim hips, his pace rhythmic to her internal flutter pulling her towards an edge.

She let out a soft cry: “Aemond.”

His lips curled and he praised her. “Yes, just like that,” his pace continued, unrelenting. She felt her muscles clenching, spasming with the bloom of her climax spilling through, her sweet moans mixing with his sharp intake of air through his clenched teeth. Aemond stilled his hips, savoring how she shuddered beneath him, her rapid heartbeat and wet eyes that watched him intently.

A whine cut through them both. “Aemond,” and only then did they remember Aegon.

She felt empty when Aemond pulled away, her cresting pleasure fading. The bed dipped as he shifted, his large hands now moving her, coaxing her onto her hands and knees so she now faced the edge of the bed to watch as Aegon moved closer.

He had shed the last of his clothes, his swaggered step that showed his length, his girth, that hung heavy between his thighs. His touch felt clammy against her skin, cupping her jaw and tilting her head back to meet with the glitter of his lilac eyes. “Will you return me the favor?” he mused, his thumb pressing to her lower lip.

Her older brother always held a haunted beauty about him. There were splotches of wine stains, bold on his porcelain skin, and something almost sinister that brimmed beneath the dark shadows that framed his lovely eyes. Aegon watched her, his digit stroking underneath her chin as he watched for her to acknowledge his words.

Behind her, the bed dipped again as her twin moved to place his hands on her hips. Her grip balled into the linen, to try and hold her trembling still; he dragged the tip of his cock through her folds to coat himself in her release, allowing an easier glide as he sheathed back into her cunt; his groan reverberated throughout them both.

She shuddered and felt Aegon squeeze her jaw, looking up at him through the new tears that clung to her eyelashes. “Open your mouth,” was his low command, his hand wrapping around his base and pressing his swollen cockhead to her lips.

It was a tentative taste before she opened to take him bit by bit. “Watch your teeth,” and she widened her jaw, her tongue flattening against the underside of him. “Yes, good girl,” Aegon hissed, his head tilting back.

She gagged when Aemond slammed into her, his hip bones digging into the softness of her arse–this new angle choked a moan from her, and its vibration had Aegon almost giggling. His fingers combed through her silver hair that spilled from the braid, holding her head as he now bucked his hips into her mouth. She gagged again, hollowing her cheeks, saliva spilling from the corners of her mouth and dripping down the sides.

The brothers were in tandem, the brutal pace of her twin and the sensual pull of her hair by Aegon and his large hands. She trembled as she tried her best to balance on one hand, her other trying to wrap around the last bit of Aegon she could not swallow, flushed from the lack of oxygen and her muscles tensing again.

Then it stopped, the satisfying pop as Aegon removed himself from her mouth, an emptiness as Aemond pulled away. She wished to melt into the sheets, but felt hands pulled to straddle the slender waist of Aemond, who was now splayed against the pillows, the flush of color bright on his sharp features. She saw his erection pressed up against his stomach, a glossy sheen of her arousal coating him.

She sighed from his touch, lifting her hips with a soft mewl as he dragged his tip through her silken folds again, allowing her to slowly sink on top with her soft cries. He bucked beneath her, a slow pace to fill and it plumed new pleasure that sparked at her spine, fluttering throughout. Her nipples were rosy and pebbled, her small hands bracing against his chest with the imprint of of red, half-crescent moons littering on his skin.

Aemond moved his hands to cradle her lower back and pulled her forward until she was flushed against his chest. He captured her lips with a renewed fervor, biting her bottom lip, and she whimpered mercifully against his mouth. He broke away and she buried into his neck with a soft kiss, while Aemond gave a silent gesture to Aegon, who retrieved a small vial and palmed himself as he continued watching them.

“You wish to make me feel as good as I made you,” Aegon asked and the bed sank as he climbed onto it, “isn’t that right, sweet sister?”

She twisted to face him, an unintelligible moan to reply as Aemond continued his languid pace beneath her. Her eyes were glassy, soft noises spilling, and there was a movement of silver when she nodded her head.

Aegon hummed with a curl of his lips, moving behind her, pouring more from the vial into his palm. Aemond reached to find her lips again, tightening his hold as she jerked from Aegon’s touch. He made a soothing sound and she relaxed as he slowly circled her rim, a genial coat of oil, so tender it almost tickled.

It stopped and her trepidation fluttered her spine as his thick head pressed against her hole, a searing burn that speared the base as he began to push until he was fully sheathed and flushed against her ass. She trembled and Aegon let out a low groan as he leaned over her, a soft bite and kiss to her shoulder blade. “So tight,” he gasped.

Aemond had stilled his hips, swallowing her cries with his kiss, and only pulling back to lick her tears, his soothing words muted from the roar of blood that was rushing to her ears. He continued to sing small praises while Aegon moved agonizingly slow, his thrusts eventually coaxing a heat in her lower back that began to spread and press to her seams.

Aemond cupped her face to reclaim her attention, her breathy moans fanning his cheeks and her fist knotting into the linen as she shuddered against his chest. He moved his warm palms to her sides, slowly rolling his hips at an alternating pace with Aegon.

The fullness from their hungry, cyclical pace continued the crescendo building in her lower abdomen. It came with sparks of white that flashed before her eyes, the release of that coiled passion flushing her skin with their rhythm. Her tension snapped, painfully, pleasurable, sharing her bones beneath and leaving her weightless with a sobbed release.

She shuddered from the crests of pleasure that continued to crash against her, feeling Aegon’s hips stuttering with his own peak before pulling out his softening cock. And then Aemond gripped into her hips, a biting hold as he rutted upwards to chase after the high, his cock pulsing inside her velvet walls and her lips parting with a wordless cry.

She then crumpled against her twin and he moved her carefully to the side. She was breathless and could feel their pearly seed spilling from her holes and seeping into the linen. Aegon was first to move, to dress and leave the room, but Aemond took a moment, washcloths rung to wipe her clean, taking the time to blow softly on her skin and watch it ripple with gooseflesh.

When he finally finished, he crawled beneath the covers and pulled her against his chest; she sighed as she melted against him, her fingers moving to play with the silver strands of his hair. Her lips pursed a moment. “What do we do now, brother?”

His fingertips stemmed pleasantly against her ribs and she flushed from the vibration of his low hum. “I intend to speak to the Lord Hand tomorrow about making you my wife,” he said as if it was already decided.

Her tongue wet her lips. “What if he is adamant to send me to the North?”

His grin was almost wicked. “Then I will parade these corridors with these very sheets to show you are no longer a maiden,” and he pushed her as she giggled, rolling her onto her back and enjoying the natural spill of her breasts; his narrow waist knitted between her thighs and she sighed, feeling him pressed against the inside of her thigh, heavy and ready once again.

Aemond captured her mouth and his kiss heated her cheeks. He stopped a moment, his tone dark and heady, “I will not be denied. Iksā ñuhon, dōna mandia.”

You are mine, sweet sister.

#hotd au fanfic #dark!aegon targaryen #dark!aemond targaryen #aegon x ofc #aemond x ofc #aemond targaryen #aegon targaryen #aemond x reader #aegon x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #updated

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echolitmag · 7 months

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"Do Not Disturb"--Contest Shortlist

"The Switchboard" by Berrenger Hansen

"Lavada" by Aleta A Rader

"Cracking Shells" by Heidi B Everhart

"Laced With Belladonna" by Bodhi Autumnsredd

And finally,

"Whispering Girl" by Andy Charles

Tune in next week to our podcast and website at echolitmag.com to find out who will be receiving our $200 contest prize!

#echolitmag #literary magazine #teen writer #the echo literary magazine #lit mag #writing #writers on tumblr #the echo tumblr intern #horror writing #horror #horror writing contest

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elleloquently · 1 year

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invisible string : ellie williams

| college!ellie au <3 depending on the feedback and if this is well received/people are interested enough, i would really love to make this a series! i usually just do drabbles and headcanons so this is a little different but i'm really excited about it, hopefully you'll all be excited too!! please let me know if this is worth continuing aaah i have a plot mapped out so more parts?? i am so excited to be actively writing on tumblr again and i just wanted to say hi and thank u to all of my new followers from the past few days!!

| c/w- reader has anxious thoughts

the transition from fall to winter was abrupt;

one morning you open your eyes and the crunchy, orange leaves have curled and gone brown. swirls of chilled air and frozen rain threaten to turn into snow which replaces the brightly colored leaves that once danced and twirled their way from the trees to the ground.

the transition from fall to winter means final exams, impending doom, and a great loss of sleep.

by the way you rushed to class, anyone passing by would've assumed you were running extremely late. however, it was quite the opposite. you needed to be exactly twenty minutes early. twenty minutes early to fix any hair that would've been knotted by the wind, and twenty minutes early to secure a seat that was a perfect distance from the pretty girl with auburn hair that was in your class.

finals season led to the lecture halls being crowded of students who hadn't previously attended class on a regular schedule, and you refused to once again lose the seat that you have been using all semester.

the sound of your shoes echoed through the silent hallway. In a flurry you were pulling your phone out of your pocket, pulling your bag higher on your shoulder and adjusting the bottom of your sweater. you heaved open the classroom door without a moment of checking your surroundings, which caused you to freeze instantly when you caught sight of the auburn girl sitting next to your seat.

the heavy door swung to a loud closing, causing you to outwardly flinch as the girl quickly looked up. the sudden eye contact made you cringe, but it was over as quickly as it happened as she turned back to slouching over her notebook.

in a moment of internal panic, you busied yourself with your bag as you fought with yourself over what to do next. the classroom was nearly empty, would she think you were a freak for sitting directly next to her? on the other hand, you had been sitting in that seat for the entire semester, surely she knew that? then again, she most likely wasn't paying attention to you in the way that you had been paying attention to her...

after a moment of hesitation, you swallowed your pride and slid into your seat with burning cheeks. you were nearly certain her name was ellie, but hadn't managed the courage to speak to her yet and the semester was nearing a close.

ellie was someone who instantly caught your eye. you wanted to be her friend, but never worked up the nerve to start a conversation. you noticed her a lot though, maybe more than you should. admittedly, on the days you have been tempted to skip class, you ended up attending simply due to one reason.

she was funny, you could tell by the way she interacted with other people in the class. and she was pretty. so pretty, in fact, you hadn't wanted to sit directly next to her because it was simply too daunting.

but now here you are.

a hole could've burned through your notebook because of how hard you were staring at it, feeling completely unsure of what to do with your body. sitting next to her made you feel frozen, and you mentally cursed yourself for being so pathetic over someone you didn't even really know.

out of the corner of your eye, you could see ellie twirling a pen through her fingers. you caught sight of her tattoo and thought your gaze might've lingered a little too long because the girl next to you suddenly sighed loudly, causing you to jump and refocus your gaze to your notes.

"alright, scale of one to ten, how fucked do you think you are for the final? I think I'm standing at a solid..six? maybe?"

heart thumping, you turned to meet ellie's gaze. she was staring at you with her eyebrows pinched together, but still had a small smile hanging off of her lips.

"same," you released with a nervous laugh, quickly frowning at your lack of response. you try to will yourself to think of something witty, ultimately failing but ellie smiles anyway.

her change of expression encourages you and you manage to spit something out without overthinking it.

"I really want to be more positive, but I'm horrible at taking tests. like, really horrible. It doesn't matter how much I study or if I love the material... I'm like, done for."

ellie nods and the conversation is short lived, but you're buzzing well throughout class. she doodles on her note pages and pieces of hair fall from her low bun to frame her face. you steal only a couple glances, using all of your power to focus on the professor and not the girl sat next to you.

in your determination to not let your eyes linger, you're completely unaware of Ellie's gaze. she notices your notes, detailed and organized, and the slight frown on your face as you scramble to make adjustments while the professor reviews information.

it's a miracle you're able to focus and class ends ten minutes early, a rarity yet well appreciated. you're trying to decide if you should get another word in with ellie while you're packing up, and she makes it easy on you.

"hey, are you doing that whole study group thing?" ellie askes suddenly, her tone growing in confidence as her sentence finishes.

sliding your notes into your bag, you pretend to think it over. in reality, you never considered the option. the idea of meeting up with people you didn't really know in an attempt to teach other class material sounded like an anxiety nightmare.

"I don't really know," you admit. "are you?"

ellie shrugs, nearly hesitating for a moment before standing and straightening her posture. she carried herself well, you noticed, fighting a burning in your face as you stood awkwardly after her.

ellie didn't verbally answer and her original asking left you curious, but you had homework due soon and no time to delay. after a rushed and mumbled parting, you left the class as quickly as you could without seeming as if you were running away from ellie herself.

the late november air was as unforgiving as the nagging thoughts in your head about a silly study group that you previously had no interest in. you were certain that you were reading way too into things... ellie had only asked a simple question and she surely wasn't going to lose sleep over it.

regardless, you found yourself double checking the date and time that the study group was supposed to meet, and making sure of your availability... just in case.

[ part two ]

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #the last of us x reader #college au #ellie williams college au #ellie tlou x reader

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feybeasts · 3 months

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Well, since I'm less worried about "not seeming nice"-

Seriously, spend your time outside of Tumblr as often as possible. I don't just mean "touch grass", I mean even online, form friend groups that transcend this site, get your news from elsewhere and from verifiable international sources, I cannot express enough as a person with outside perspective how utterly horrific the echo chamber effect and the doomscrolling is here, there are some folks here who are genuinely unwell purely from only knowing Tumblr and being pathologically unwilling to look at literally anything else, and I am truly and utterly horrified for their wellbeing. No website I've ever been a part of has ever had such a deleterious effect on some of its' userbase's mental health and ability to parse information and problem-solve, and it's the closest thing I think I've ever seen to a website killing a human brain in real time.

And no, this isn't a recent feeling. This is a horror that has sat deep in my gut looking at the culture of this website as a whole from day one. There's a monster lurking under the surface of this site, and it's swallowed some people's lives whole. Don't you dare let it consume you, this is not the whole of the world, this doesn't matter.

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coolemmasulivan2 · 7 days

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Love Wins (Even in Red) | 3

Pairing: Mason Mount x Reporter!Reader

Summary: Fate reunites them under the red lights of Old Trafford. Interviews are frosty, leaving people wondering why. Can Mason forgive Reader for something that happened in the past? Can she win Mason's heart and prove love wins even on red?

Word Count: 3526

Author's Note: You could read part 1 and 2 in my now old blog, but my account was closed by Tumblr, but I still wanted people to read part 3 (even if the other parts have died), so here it is. If you haven't read or don't remember the other parts, I think it's best not to read this one.

Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called And said, "I miss you", I caught it

Your shoes on her feet were pissing you off. Everything about her visit, the bad timing, the unwelcome reminder of the past, was starting to grate. Lily was your little sister, and despite the years of hurt and betrayal, a sliver of love still flickered within you. It would always be there, buried deep, but trust and affection? Those were long gone.

Across the table, your roommate glared at Lily with daggers for eyes. Clare wasn't happy about this surprise visit either and the way she chopped her steak said it all.

Clare's voice, sharp as a knife, cut through the awkward silence. "So, Lily, what brings you here?"

Lily offered her a smile. "Oh, I just miss Y/n so much! And since she couldn't make it to my graduation, I thought I'd surprise her with a visit. You know, it's been ages!"

You scoffed internally. Lily wasn't the sentimental type, and affection had never been her strong suit. Neither had it been for the rest of your family.

"Right." She managed, forcing a neutral smile. You shot Clare a glance, hoping to restrain her hatred, but your roommate ignored you completely. "How long are you planning to stay?"

"Only three days!" Lily said. "I got a job back in London, going to start next week."

"Oh, that's good."

You stayed silent, picking at your food without much appetite. You could practically hear your mother's voice in your head: "Y/n, don't play with your food!" Your stomach was already churning from the earlier incident, and the awkward dinner atmosphere wasn't helping.

"Y/n? Did you hear me?"

You blinked, startled by your thoughts. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Just wondering how things are going with you. Work? Everything alright?" Her voice dripped with a sweetness you found questionable. Was she mocking you? Or maybe trying to pry about how you were doing with Mason now that he was around?

Across the table, Clare let out a loud scrape as her knife snagged across her plate. The harsh sound did little to hide the tension radiating from her. You could practically see her clench her jaw, trying to control her anger.

"Everything's good," you mumbled, forcing a smile. You didn't want to get into a conversation, especially not with Lily. But the silence felt suffocating, so you offered a bland reply, hoping to deflect further questions.

The Christmas lights twinkled on the tree, casting a warm glow on the richly decorated table. You, recently graduated, sat across from your parents, a nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. You'd finally landed your dream job – a football reporter. Tonight, you wanted to share your accomplishment, to celebrate this pivotal moment in your life with your family.

"So, Y/n," your father started, "tell us all about this 'football reporter' job of yours. Sounds… interesting." His voice held a faint undercurrent of scepticism that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your smile was big. "It is, Dad! I get to meet incredible athletes, analyze the game from a different perspective, share the stories behind the players that make them human, not just statistics on a page…"

"The stories behind the players," your mother echoed, her perfectly manicured red nails tapping a rhythmic counterpoint against the tablecloth. "Like what, exactly? 'Football Star caught eating pizza before the big match'? Don't you think you could be using your talents for something… more important? A doctor, perhaps?"

The air hung heavy, the weight of their disapproval pressing down on you. "Mom, I love this job. It lets me be creative, connect with fans, capture the passion of the sport…"

"Creative?" Your mother mocked. "Medical school, that was clever. Imagine the impact you could've had as a doctor, Y/n, making a real difference in the world."

A heavy silence fell upon the table. Your mother pursed her lips, her disapproval a palpable presence. You glanced at your younger sister, Lily, who sat beside you, seemingly engrossed in her phone, like always.

"At least we still have Lily." Your father finally muttered, a hint of resignation in his voice. "She's on track to become a Lawer, just like we always hoped." His words, though apparently meant to be comforting, only deepened the depth that had grown between you and your family.

You sprawled on your bed, watching a random movie on TV. The awkward dinner had left a sour taste in your mouth, and the tension with Lily still crackled in the air. You sighed, a wave of exhaustion washing over you.

The door creaked open, and Clare poked her head in. Her usually bright eyes held a dark glint. "Can I please kill her?" she whispered, gesturing towards the living room where your sister was sleeping.

You chuckled, the sound echoing in the quiet room. "No, Clare, you can't kill her. She's still my sister, even if…" Your voice trailed off, searching for the right words.

Clare walked into the room, closing the door behind her and flopping dramatically onto the bed beside you. "Even if she's a… leech?"

A ghost of a smile played on your lips. "Something like that."

Clare propped herself up on one elbow, her gaze fixed on the flickering TV screen. "But seriously, why do you think she's here? The timing is awfully convenient, wouldn't you say."

You couldn't argue with that. "Maybe she just… missed me?" you offered, the doubt heavy in your voice.

Clare snorted, a skeptical eyebrow raised. "Honey, let's be real. Lily missing anyone besides her phone or free vacations? Not likely."

Her words were harsh, but they held a ring of truth. "So, what do you think she wants? You don't think…" you stammered, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air.

"Think what?" Clare prompted, her gaze sharp. "That she's worried about the video being leaked, especially now that Mason plays for United and is practically your neighbour?"

You stared at the ceiling, the image of Mason's smile flashing before your eyes. The idea of Lily sabotaging your relationship with Mason once again filled you with a cold fury.

"Well," you finally said, your voice steely with resolve, "if that's her game, she's underestimated me. I won't let her hold this over my head anymore. It's my time to be happy."

Across the white tablecloth, Olivia's voice buzzed like a nervous bee. "So, my parents dragged me all the way from California to Manchester when I was eight. Talk about culture shock!" Her laugh, light and tinkly, didn't quite reach Mason.

His smile, felt heavy tonight. It was a mask hiding the knot of butterflies twisting in his stomach. The fancy lobster soup in front of him remained untouched, a sad contrast to the vivid picture playing on repeat in his head.

You! Your long hair illuminated by the warm sun, your eyes sparkling when talking about the things you liked and made you happy, your pink soft lips touching his. He could almost feel the warmth of your hands as they brushed against his cheeks, sending a shiver down his spine.

"It must've been tough." He said, moving uncomfortably in his chair.

Olivia, oblivious to his internal baggage, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "It was, but Manchester grew on you, you know? There's just this… vibe here. It's electric."

Mason forced a chuckle. Vibe! His brother loved throwing that word around. It was probably the same way he'd described the blind date he had set him up with – "She's got this great vibe, Mase, you'll love her!" But that wasn't what he was feeling.

"So, Mason…" Olivia continued, her smile fading under his distracted gaze. "Tell me about yourself. Is there anything you're passionate about outside of football?"

Mason blinked, pulled back from the memory of your face by Olivia's question. "Uh, well, football obviously takes up a lot of my time, but…" He trailed off, his mind searching for something, anything, to fill the silence. However, he knew he should end the dinner soon, it was not fair to Olivia. Your image always in his mind, vibrant and passionate, made it hard to stay present. "Olivia..." he started.

Olivia's smile faltered slightly, but she recovered quickly. "No worries, Mason. It's clear we're not really on the same page. It's fine."

A real smile finally broke through on Mason's face as they said goodbye. After paying the bill and making sure Olivia got a cab, a wave of relief washed over him. He pulled out his phone, his heart pounding, as he typed a single message to Bruno: "Can you send me Y/n's number?"

The sunlight sliced through the gap in your curtains as panic jolted you awake. A frantic glance at the old clock you still had on your nightstand confirmed your worst fear. You were late. Way late.

Your phone lay lifeless on the nightstand after a tense dinner with Lily. No phone alarm, no clue what time you'd fallen asleep, no idea if you'd missed any messages or calls. Mostly, you worried about work. Being late wasn't your thing.

Throwing off the covers, you launched into a record-breaking morning routine. You put on the first thing you pulled from the closet and practically ran out of the room, searching for your coat.

A glance towards the kitchen caught you off guard. Breakfast sat on the table, a spread fit for a king compared to your usual morning routine.

"Good morning!" Lily appeared with a glass of orange juice in her hand. You couldn't help but wonder if you even had oranges in the house.

"Hi," you mumbled, pulling your hair into a messy ponytail. "What's all this?"

She smiled, clearly proud of herself. "Breakfast, silly! Sit down and eat something."

The tempting aroma tickled your nose, but you couldn't. "I can't. I'm already late." You reached for your coat, glimpsing out the window to see that it was raining.

"Oh, I hoped we could talk," Lily said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. "You know... without Clare around."

"I'll be back later. We can talk then. Now I really have to go." You grabbed your bag and everything you needed, throwing a hurried goodbye over your shoulder.

"Have a nice day."

Lily's words echoed in your ears as everything went wrong. You missed the bus, the rain hammered down as you stepped outside, and to top it all off, you'd left your phone uncharging at home in the morning chaos. By the time you finally reached your work, you were soaked to the bone.

When you were finally leaving work, one of your coworkers who witnessed your day of misfortune, took pity on you and offered you a ride home. At least something seemed to be going right.

Stepping inside the house, the clean, fresh scent greeted you like a warm hug. Lily sat on the couch, laptop open on her lap and a smile on her face.

"Hi, big sis! How did your day go?"

You wanted to scream the first words that came to mind: awful, the worst, horrible. Instead, you settled for a simple, "Busy!"

"Did you clean?" You asked, gesturing to the spotless living room. She nodded. "You didn't have to."

"It's the least I could do."

"Well, thanks." You took your coat, hanging it by the door. "I'm going to take a shower and then we can talk about what you wanted to talk about this morning."

"Okay."

In your room, you tossed your bag onto the bed and flopped down, staring at the ceiling. It had been a long time since a day had gone so wrong, and all you wanted was to sleep and erase it from your memory. But Lily still wanted to talk.

With a sigh, you got up and spotted your phone, still dead, lying on the nightstand where you'd left it. You grabbed the charged cable from your bag and connected them, a flicker of life returning to the screen as the battery symbol lit up.

Grabbing some fresh clothes, you headed to the bathroom, letting the warm water wash away the stress. You didn't know how long you stood there, but eventually, the water grew lukewarm, and you stepped out.

Back in the living room, you dropped onto the couch, the TV playing some random show Lily had left on.

"So, what do you want to talk about?"

Lily closed her laptop and faced you, her expression serious. You mirrored her posture, sensing the conversation was going to be serious.

"Okay, so, I have some news I haven't shared with you." Confusion clouded your face. She shifted slightly, a sign of nervousness. "Well, I have a boyfriend."

You smiled. "Lily, you're a grown woman, you don't have to tell me about your boyfriends."

She stood up and walked over, sitting on the coffee table in front of you. "This time I do have to tell you." Your silence encouraged her to continue. "You see, it's a serious relationship and... We're engaged!"

Your jaw dropped. You were happy, but deep down there was also a sense of jealousy. So, she was supposed to be happy but you weren't, you thought to yourself.

"I— I don't know what to say. Congrats!" You opened your arms for a hug, which she returned. "How— how long have you been dating him? I mean, what's his name?"

"His name is John. John Kingsley." Lily said a nervous smile on her face.

The name hung heavy in the air, a suffocating weight pressing down on you. Lily felt a sense of dread as she saw a flicker of recognition in your eyes, her nervous anticipation replaced by fear.

Blood roared in your ears, drowning out everything else. "Professor Kingsley?" you choked out, the words barely a whisper.

Lily's expression was replaced by a grimace of apology. "Yes!" She stammered. She knew the truth would explode, and the fear in your eyes was a reflection of her own.

"How could you?" you said, the anger you'd bottled up for three years finally bursting. "That video, of both of you, forced me away from Mason! He ruined my life!"

"It was not him that blackmailed us."

"Blackmail us? You mean Blackmailed me!" Tears welled up in Lily's eyes, but they did little to extinguish the fire in yours. "How could you even think about marrying-- How old is he?"

She'd known this anger was coming. She still remembered the fear and the disappointment in your eyes as you'd agreed to leave Mason and London behind.

"Y/n, I—" she started, but your voice cut through her like a knife.

"I had to leave Mason," you choked out, your voice thick with unshed tears. "I had to give up everything because of that video. And you're going to marry him?"

"Like I said, It wasn't him that blackmailed you."

The weight of your sacrifice, the years of unspoken hurt, crashed down on you like a tidal wave. "It doesn't matter, Lily! It was because of your video that they were able to blackmail me." You shouted. Lily reached for you, a silent plea for understanding, but you flinched away. "Don't touch me," you whispered, the words laced with ice.

"Y/n, please." she pleaded. "Let me explain."

"I don't want to hear it," you said, your voice trembling with the force you were trying to contain. "I want you to be happy, Lily. Seriously, I do. But I can't be a part of this. Not after everything you two did to me."

Without another word, you grabbed your coat and stormed out of the house. You slammed the front door shut, the rain hitting your face. Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring the world around you. You didn't see the familiar car pull up in front of the house.

Mason.

He approached the house, unaware of your presence as you left the house. He quickly got out of the car, his concern etching on his face as he knocked on the door.

Lily opened the door, a flicker of surprise crossing both of their features.

"Ahm-- Lily?" He said, unsure of the name. He had only met her once and she didn't exactly look like that young girl anymore.

"Mason? Hi. What are you doing here?" She looked nervous and looked like she'd been crying.

"I've been trying to reach Y/n, but her phone is off. I needed to talk to her."

Lily's eyes darted nervously around, avoiding his gaze. "She's not home."

Disappointment clouded Mason's face. "Oh, okay. I guess I'll try her again later. Thanks anyway." He turned to leave, his shoulders slumped.

But before he could disappear into the rain, Lily spoke up. "Wait, Mason. Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He stopped, and a flicker of confusion appeared in his eyes. "Sure." Lily stepped aside, guiding him into the house.

Your breaths mixed in the quiet aftermath, soft sighs escaping your lips. Mason traced a finger along your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"You know," he began, his voice husky with tiredness. "Spending time with you it's the best part of my day."

A shy smile bloomed on your face as you ran your fingers slowly on his chest. "Really?"

"Absolutely," he confirmed, his eyes searching yours. "I just... I really like you, Y/n. More than I thought possible."

Your heart skipped a beat. "I... I feel the same way," you confessed, your voice barely a whisper. "So," You murmured, your voice filled with unspoken hope. "What does that mean for us?"

He pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. "I think," He said, his voice gaining strength. "That maybe we should make things official. Be a couple, you know?"

Your eyes sparkled with joy. "I'd like that more than anything."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss.

Pushing open the front door, you were greeted by an unfamiliar darkness. The dining table was illuminated by the soft glow of two flickering candles, casting the rest of the house into darkness.

"Clare?" you called out, your voice echoing in the silence. No answer. You reached out to find the light switch, but there was no light when you clicked it.

"Clare's not home." a voice startled you from the shadows.

You felt relieved at the familiar voice, and for a moment, the intense emotions you were feeling were pushed aside. "Mason? What are you doing here?"

He stepped closer, the candlelight painting his features in a warm glow. "Been trying to reach you since last night." You remembered your phone, still charging on the nightstand. "Lily opened the door for me." You looked around for any sign of her and Mason could tell. "She's also not here. She left." Good, you thought. "She told me everything. About the video, the blackmail... Why didn't you tell me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the image of his concerned face. "I'm so sorry," you choked out, the apology tumbling from your lips before you could stop it.

He reached out, his fingers gently cupping your cheeks. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I shouldn't have ended things with you." You confessed, your voice thick with regret. "It was Lily's mistake. But then they blackmailed me and I couldn't... I did it to protect her. I had to."

His eyes softened with understanding. "I know. I understand." He said, his voice gentle. "Hell, I would have done the same for my family." The tears came harder then, a torrent of relief and regret. He pulled you close, his embrace a safe place in the darkness. You missed his hugs. "Don't cry, please." He murmured, his fingers stroking your hair. "It's okay."

"I'm sorry." You murmured against his chest. "I broke your heart and you didn't deserve it."

"Stop that." He whispered. "Look, romantic dinner by candlelight wasn't exactly the plan, but the power's out, so..."

A choked laugh escaped your lips. "I missed you. Every single day." You admitted, the words tumbling out before you could hold them back any longer.

His smile, illuminated by the flickering candlelight, was the most beautiful thing you'd seen in days. "I missed you more." He confessed, his voice husky with emotion.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that tasted of forgiveness, relief, and a love that had never truly died. It was a slow, and tender kiss, filled with unspoken promises of a future where nothing, not blackmail, not family drama, would ever tear you apart again. As you pulled away, his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear.

"No more goodbyes, okay?" He said, his voice firm with resolve. "We'll face everything together. Always." You nodded, a new strength blooming in your chest. No more running, no more hiding.

He leaned in once more, his eyes searching yours. "Mason?" You murmured. "I love you. I always did."

"I love you too. Since the first moment that I saw you." You locked your arms around his neck and kissed him passionately. The future, with him by your side, was all that mattered now.

#football imagine #footballer imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #footballer x reader #mason mount

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06605 · 1 year

Text

NOISE

trent alexander-arnold x reader

summary: the reader wanted a late night snack..let's just say things get noisy.

pairings: trent alexander-arnold, reader

genre: fluff

a/n: someone tell me how to get 3 pictures aligned together on tumblr, mobile (comment or msg me) hopefully this makes up for me not posting for a week. this was requested by xevr, have a nice hiatus. <3 (feel free to request)

──────

You checked the time, it was 1:35 am.

You ran your fingers down your face, awakening up to reality, because you were so immersed in this book that you lost track of time and maybe disrupted your sleep schedule.

You turned around to see your partner, Trent, how calm he appeared, white disheveled sheets starting at his lower abdomen, dreadlocs tangled up against the pillow. Soft breathing coming from him, back muscles slightly tensed. He was quite the sight.

You put your book down on the nightstand and decided to fetch a snack before returning to it.

You got up cautiously, keeping an eye on the others' motions so as not to wake him up.

When you got out of bed, you kept your eyes on him as if you were approaching something hazardous and wanted to tread softly, and didn't pay attention so you stubbed your toe on the corner of the bedstead. (ouch. relatable.)

SHIT, you said internally; biting inside your mouth to refrain you from making any noise. Making a sour expression.

Trent grumbled quietly and turned to the left side; you paused for a moment before exhaling slightly when you heard him snoring again.

Limping, you headed to the kitchen of your shared flat.

"Dark as hell," you said to yourself. Luckily for you, the moonlight projecting through the balcony window saved you.

You observe Prince and Koba resting in their cages, which is excellent; another obstacle to avoid if you want to wake up Trent. The dogs are notoriously loud.

You stood your ground for a minute, thinking about a plan of how to get a successfully.

After some thought, you tiptoed over to the, your gaze shifting to the dogs. You stubbed your toe on your way to the kitchen.

CHRISSTTT, you thought internally once again. You quietly fell to the ground touching the toe that was stubbed twice.

You stayed on the floor for awhile gathering your thoughts, why do I do dumb shit, the hell is wrong with me, AAAAAAA— you stopped thinking and got up you limping got worse and it hurt to tip toe again.

Why the hell is it so quiet at night, you kept yourself steady on the kitchen island counter, and inhaled and exhaled 3 times and returned to finding a late night snack.

It was dark, like pitch dark, no moonlight no nothing. You relied on your hands to guide you the way.

You sighed again, recovering your calm. You took a step and saw that it was safe to take another, so you did. You walked 3 steps to the main counter, where you brought your hands and move them side to side.

OOPS—

You dropped something, trying to wonder what it was it that echoed, sounded like a platistic cup, why this shit still going, you thought to yourself and you bent down trying to track the cup.

You grabbed it and placed it on the counter. You sighed, you didn't recall that getting a late night snack would be this difficult.

You raised your hand, looking for the cabinets; you located one and opened it. You just felt plates inside it. You carefully close the cabinet again.

You made your way slowly to the island counter, moving your hands trying to find something, literally something edible at least.

Your hands made contact with a glass bowl, you brought it closer to you and felt was inside, it felt like fruits.

JACKPOT

You took a bite of the fruit, and dropped your head.

You swore that you were just gonna burst put in tears and laughter because of your stupidity.

It was fake; it was a fake fruit.

You removed your teeth from the decor, and dropped it on the floor.

You felt around the counter again trying to see if you could find anything again. You felt a bag, you grabbed it and inspected it. It was a chip bag.

THANK GOD, You opened your chips, they were loud. Feeling relieved, you ate one and crunched on them, feeling satisfied. You sat on the floor enjoying your chips happily.

You heard faint steps, becoming louder.

Click—

The kitchen lights opened, blinded by them you rubbed your eyes getting used to the lighting.

Busted , you thought.

"...babe?"

You grimaced, "..down here Trent"

Trent appeared from where he was standing; you could see him clearly; he was very adorable, wrapped in a blanket; like a burrito."

"Fucking freezing in here" He said, scouse accent thickening.

"Why are you on the floor...eating chips...at nearly 3 in the mornin'.."

You shrugged, "Late night snack?"

"Is that the reason why I heard noises coming from here?"

"Yes. stubbed my toe 2 times, 'ought to feel pity for me." You said reaching down to massage your big toe.

Trent laughed, you rolled your eyes.

He sat besides you, you two didn't say anything for awhile.

"I was trying to stay quiet to not disturb you from your sleep.." you admitted under your breath.

Trent kissed near the corner of your lips. "Thank you" he muttered in your ear, his breath hot near your ear.

"Now then, let's head to bed." He got up, giving you a hand to remove you off the floor.

extra

You opened to door to and made your way to the kitchen, and you saw Trent in his usual fitting white underarmour shirt, and grey sweatpants.

He's on his phone doing god knows what, and you've just bought new groceries.

After placing them on the counter, Trent put his attention onto you.

"What'd you buy?"

"Fruit."

"..fruit?"

You grabbed the platter of fake fruits and dumped them out. Muttering to yourself, "who the hell just buys fake fruit."

"It's for decor, babe. Trent stated

"Y'know last night I bit into one of these thinking it was an actual fruit."

Trent bursted out in laughter, you rolled your eyes and began replacing the fruit.

#06605 #football imagine #football imagines #trent alexander arnold #liverpool #trent alexander arnold x reader #I actually stubbed my toe TWICE last night.#football #laugh #I'm funny I know

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helloalycia · 3 months

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 [𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄] — 𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐂𝐈𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐍𝐀𝐌-𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐘

one / two / four / five / masterlist / wattpad

summary: it's four years into your relationship with Alycia but you're still not on the best terms with her parents, so you're forced to spend a week at their mansion and grow closer. Of course, it's not so easy when her dad hates you.

warning/s: none.

author's note: here’s part three, hope someone reading likes it haha. also i’m trying out a new layout for my imagines with hopes it’ll speed up putting it together on tumblr (as i copy it over from wattpad and have to format it which is annoying lol) - feel free to let me know what you think or if you prefer the old layout! :)

Four years later...

"I'm still not too sure about this, Alycia."

Alycia looked at me and raised an eyebrow playfully. Her blue-green eyes were practically bursting with amusement, and she obviously found my discomfort hilarious, as usual.

"For the millionth time," she said, and she wasn't exaggerating, "it will be okay! They know we've been together for a few years now, and they know that you mean a lot to me, so stop panicking!"

As always, I nodded and released a breath I was unaware I was holding. Despite having met Alycia's family a few times before, I was still nervous because this time was different. It wasn't a meal at night and then say goodbye, it was staying for a week and getting to know them better. Sounds easy, right?

Wrong.

Not only were her parents insanely intimidating, but they were also loaded with millions of dollars, and they didn't seem to like me very much.

"Miss Debnam-Carey, we have arrived," the driver from the front of the car informed Alycia.

Yeah, a driver. Her parents sent for someone in a car (that probably cost more than all of my belongings put together) to pick Alycia and I up. All through the journey, I had been freaking out internally and failing to hide it on the outside.

"You ready?"

It took me a moment to realise that Alycia was talking to me. I looked to her, and the humour that was painted on her face throughout the whole journey was gone and replaced with reassurance.

"As ready as one can be when they are about to epically embarrass themselves in front of their loved one's parents."

Her adorable giggle echoed in the backseat of the car as the vehicle came to a halt. "I got you, Y/N. Don't worry."

The door to my right was opened by the driver, who had stepped out of the car without me noticing. I took a deep breath before stepping out of the vehicle. Only for my jaw to drop. Their house was beautiful.

Or should I say mansion.

The whatever-it-was was huge, spreading across a large amount of land. Only in front of me I could see a white, stone-carved fountain that was spouting crystal blue water, which was obviously artificially enhanced but beautiful nonetheless. Around the fountain was a cobbled pathway that led to the front door and around the driveway. Surrounding the mansion was acre after acre of empty land, being used for various rich-people activities.

If this was what the front of the grand house looked like, how did the rest look?

I felt someone's hand push my jaw close and I looked to my left to see that humoured grin on Alycia's beautiful face again. "Don't want to catch flies now, do we?"

I rolled my eyes but smiled, already feeling better knowing that she was still the same old Alycia I had fallen in love with. Despite the millions her parents owned.

"Come on," she said with a smile, lacing her fingers through mine and tugging me to her side a little. "I'll show you around."

—

"And that's the golf course," she finished, releasing my hand and looking to me with a bright smile. "What do you think?"

Alycia had shown me around the whole of her home and it was pretty hard for me to stay sane when her mansion of a home was freakin' beautiful. The amount of facilities that she had was unbelievable and it only made me realise how much harder this visit would be.

"It's amazing, Alycia," I responded, smiling weakly. "This is going to be an awesome week."

She smiled at my response, but when she saw the worry in my eyes, her smile faded away and she grabbed my hand once again. "Y/N, what did I tell you about worrying?"

"To only do it when I'm worrying about whether there's a ghost living in our flat?"

She sighed and cracked a smile, knowing humour was my defence mechanism to hide my feelings. "I never said that."

I scoffed. "I mean, have you seen the way our doors keep swinging close without anyone touching them?"

"Y/N–"

"Like, seriously. I'll literally be on the other side of the room and bang! The door shuts–"

"Y/N–"

"–and I'll spend the whole day wondering if somebody previously died in that place or if I'm just losing my mind–"

I got cut off when I felt a soft pair of lips press against mine. It was only short, but boy was it amazing. Alycia pulled away and laughed at my expression, which probably resembled a younger me getting my first kiss off Alycia a few years ago.

"You really need to quit babbling sometimes," she said, knowingly, patting my cheek with her hand.

"Sorry," I mumbled, taking her hand and kissing it gently. "I'm just being stupid. I promise I'll act normal now."

She shrugged and grabbed my hand, leading me back to the house. "If you say so, but you can't act like something you aren't."

It took me a few seconds to realise what she'd said since it was said so casually, but when I did, I gasped and looked at her, feigning offence.

"I'm kidding," she said in between laughter. "Sort of."

I waved my hand dismissively. "Oh, okay. That's fine. I guess I'll be sort of kidding when I tickle you!"

"Y/N, don't," she warned me, losing her amusement, and when I took a step forward, she backed up. Green eyes fixed on mine and she repeated, "Don't."

I quirked a brow, resisting the urge to smile. "Don't what, darling?"

It was silent between us, her not moving a muscle as she waited for me to dare make a move. All it took was for me to step forward and she yelped before running away.

"Alycia!" I shouted, chasing after her, but damn she was fast.

She kept looking back every so often to make sure I was far enough from her, so I ran that extra bit faster, closing in on her until we finally reached the house. Running inside, she was out of sight and I immediately slowed down upon entering the main atrium.

Too uncomfortable to be alone in someone else's house, let alone a rich person's house, I forgot what I was doing and tried to swallow down my nerves.

"Alycia!" I whisper-shouted, eyes scanning the space to try and find her. "Where are you?" The uneasiness settled in when there was no sign of her. "Alycia!"

Just when I was about to give up and ring her, I felt someone jump on my back and I automatically caught their legs, holding them upright instinctively.

"Hey, loser," Alycia's voice said into my ear, sending uncontrollable shivers down my neck. She leaned down further and kissed me on my cheek.

I craned my neck so that I could see her face, only to see that annoyingly attractive smirk on her lips all over again. "You're actually so annoying. Why am I even with you?"

She laughed it off. "'Cause you love me, duh!"

"Sure I do," I mumbled, before looking around.

She had shown me around earlier, so I remembered seeing a couch to the side which gave me an idea.

"Giddy up, horsie!" Alycia shouted, whilst patting me on the back simultaneously.

I smirked and walked forward, towards the couch. "I'll show you just how much I love you, Alycia."

She didn't respond, but I could sense her confusion. I headed towards the couch and turned around so that my back was facing it. She eventually realised what I was going to do and tried to jump off me, but I sat down before she could escape.

"Get off!" she ordered, trying to escape from my weight of a body that was currently crushing her and preventing her from standing up.

I purposely pressed myself down on her even more and laughed at her helpless struggling. "I just love you so much, Alycia. I can't help but be close to you!”

Her body was shuffling about beneath me and I could hear her whimpers as she tried to shove me off, but she wasn't strong enough. I thought she would give up, but instead, she began to use her hands, ruffling my hair and slapping my face with them.

"Not–" slap, "so–" slap, "funny–" slap, "now–" slap, "–is it?" she asked between laughter, making me squeeze my eyes close as she slapped me wherever she could.

Even without turning around, I could already imagine the obnoxious smirk adorning her lips.

I stood back up to get away from her, but she clung onto me from behind and began to slap my face again. I tried running away from her, but she wouldn't let go, her arms and legs clinging to me like a koala.

"Alycia! Let–" I tried prying her off me, but it wasn't working. "–go!"

"Then say–" she smacked my forehead, "–you love me!"

We were both as stubborn as each other, so the next minute consisted of Alycia smacking me and clinging to me, and myself trying to pry her off but failing miserably. We were so caught up in annoying each other that we didn't even realise we had an audience.

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat on purpose.

Alycia and I paused and turned to the left, only to see Mr and Mrs Debnam-Carey standing there with raised eyebrows. I looked back to Alycia and saw her mid-smacking my face, and I didn't look any better as I attempted to throw her off me. Oh, God.

"This looks a lot worse than it is." I laughed awkwardly, letting Alycia down off my back gently.

"Mum, dad!" Alycia yelled happily, immediately running to both of her parents and embracing them in a tight, loving hug.

They returned the hug, but their eyes were studying me up and down over her shoulder, and I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under their gaze. Talk about bad timing.

"You guys know Y/N," Alycia introduced as she motioned to me.

I stepped forward and Alycia grabbed my hand, squeezing it gently for reassurance. She sent a hopeful smile my way and I felt the majority of my nerves die down. Her smile always made me feel ten times better; she had a certain power to make me feel good, and I loved her for it.

"Lovely to meet you both again," I greeted her parents, smiling nervously. I put my right hand out and they both shook it.

"You, too, Y/N," her mum responded, smiling a little. "We're glad you could join us for the week. It'll be good to be able to get to know each other properly."

I nodded in agreement. The reason I'd been with Alycia for so long and not gotten to know her parents as much is because it took her a long time to feel comfortable enough to introduce me, and when she did, I got the vibe that her parents didn't like me as much. It had been really difficult to 'befriend' them, if you will, which is why they invited me over for the week.

"Has Alycia shown you around the house?" her dad asked, seeming as if he were ready to snap his fingers and have someone give me a full-blown tour. Which to be honest, he probably could.

I nodded again. "Uh, yeah. You both have a lovely home by the way."

They smiled kindly and nodded their heads as a thank you. I internally relaxed, glad that I'd said the right thing. So far, so good.

"I'm sure Alycia can show you where you're both staying," her mum explained. "You can freshen up and then you'll be joining us for dinner tonight. We're having lamb. Sound good?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod, before smiling. "Thanks."

They smiled my way before leaving the main atrium. When they left, I let out a deep breath that I wasn't even aware I was holding.

"You looked like you were about to combust into thin air," Alycia noted aloud, an amused smile on her lips. "You okay?"

I flashed her a small smile. "Perfect."

—

Dinner rolled around quickly enough, too quick for my liking. The rest of the afternoon was spent with Alycia and I unpacking and messing about in our room, which was huge by the way. It was beautiful, though, especially with its balcony that overlooked one of the many grounds that the Debnam-Careys owned.

"So Y/N," Alycia's mother began after we had all dug into our meals and awkward small talk was made. "What have you been up to lately? You're doing a teaching degree at university, right?"

I was surprised to know that she actually remembered from our last chat which was a pretty long time ago, but nodded nonetheless.

"Uh, yeah. It's going well. It's kept me pretty busy, but I know I'll achieve something at the end of it, so I don't mind."

"Not too busy to keep Alycia happy, though, right?" her dad teased playfully, though I could tell that he genuinely wanted to know. I always got this vibe that he didn't like me as much, at least compared to her mum.

His comment caused Alycia to flush with embarrassment and sink lower into her seat to avoid being seen, though it made no difference.

I chuckled and glanced at Alycia, lacing our fingers together underneath the table. "Alycia's happiness will always be my top priority," I spoke with sincerity, smiling at the embarrassed Australian beside me.

Neither of her parents responded, but when I looked back at them, her mum was smiling as she looked between us. I wish I could say the same for her dad, but he was studying me like a battle plan, detecting whether I would make the right or wrong move in the future. And so returned my nerves...

"How is your company doing?" I asked them both, hoping to make good conversation and not say anything wrong. "I heard its picked up quite a bit recently. There was that new TV advertisement, right?"

The Debnam-Careys were rich because of their world-renowned summer camps, ironically where Alycia and I first met and she tried to pretend it was her aunt who owned it. It was their number one achievement, I had learnt, and sometimes I was sure that they were more proud of that than they were of Alycia, but I never said anything because it wasn't any of my business.

Alycia's mum finished chewing her food and nodded her head, saying, "It's definitely getting more popular. The advert helped, yes."

I nodded and tried to think of something else to ask or say, but I didn't know what. And all whilst I was trying to think, a good two minutes had passed, it being full of an awkward, uncomfortable silence. And this is exactly what I was dreading.

The whole meal was filled with random small conversations that soon ended with silences, and it was the most uncomfortable thing I had ever had to endure. So, you can imagine how happy I was when it was over.

"They hate me," I repeated for the millionth time, all whilst pacing up and down in Alycia and I's bedroom. "I probably looked like some boring person who has no interests."

Alycia sighed from where she was sat at the edge of the bed, and ran her hands through her hair. "You always overthink things, Y/N. It wasn't as bad as you're making it out to be."

I paused and looked to her with a raised eyebrow. "Are you kidding me? The highlight of the evening was you dropping your fork under the table, only to drop my fork under the table too."

She chuckled and stood up, moving closer to me and taking my hands in hers. "I only did that so I could talk to you under the table."

"I know." I cracked a smile. "And I appreciate the mini pep talk you gave me."

She did that cute smile she does, where her nose scrunched up and her eyebrows furrowed together, and I felt the need to lean in and give her a small but tender kiss on the lips. It certainly took her by surprise, and when I pulled away, she smiled at me with confusion.

"What was that for?"

I moved a piece of hair from her eyes and smiled down at her. "I don't really tell you enough, but I appreciate you a lot."

She chuckled gently. "I love you too, you idiot."

I rolled my eyes playfully, not bothering to explain what I meant. Instead, I leaned in again and kissed her, appreciating the way she relaxed and began to kiss me back. I was certain I'd never get tired of her lips against mine.

—

"You're kidding me, right?"

Alycia laughed and shook her head. "Honestly, I'm not."

I raised both of my eyebrows at her, still not believing a word she was saying. "You've got to be joking! You're seriously telling me that you and your parents did this 'afternoon tea' every single day for three years?"

Alycia nodded and took a sip of her tea. "Between the ages of 9 to 11. They believed it was the key to developing my social skills." She bit her lip as she thought to herself, before adding, "Evidently that didn't work since I'm super awkward with people I don't know, but yeah."

I couldn't help but laugh at her seriousness. We'd been here two days and Alycia had invited me to 'afternoon tea' with her and her parents. Of course, they'd said they were going to be a little late, so Alycia and I got started as they'd wished.

Honestly? It was a little weird, but the little cakes were delicious and Alycia's table etiquette was a sight to see, so this was all worth it.

I wasn't really sure how Alycia's parents felt about me at the moment to be honest. It had only been two days and yet they still made no effort to show me what they were thinking. Alycia assured me that was just their personality, but I wasn't so sure...

"Oh, look, my parents are here," Alycia pointed out, her eyes on the door.

I followed her line of sight, looking to the door on the side of their house (mansion) that led outside where we were sat, overlooking one of their many well-kept gardens. She was right – her parents were here, but they weren't alone.

"Erm, who's that?" I asked, quietly, so only Alycia would hear me. There was a random man stood trailing behind her parents as they approached the table we were sat at.

Alycia was smiling on the outside as the two of us stood up, but I could see the confusion in her eyes. "Not gonna lie, Y/N. I have no idea."

I wasn't really liking where this was going, especially since Alycia was as clueless as I was, but nonetheless, I plastered a smile on my lips and watched as the three figures stopped by the table.

"Ah, girls, sorry we're late," her father apologised, and honestly, I'd never seen him look so happy in the whole time I'd met him. Something wasn't right. "I was waiting for Clayton."

At this comment, he patted the guy's – I guess, Clayton's – back, causing them both to chuckle. The guy was pretty tall, young, handsome, well-dressed... well, shit, I definitely wasn't liking where this was going.

"Sweetie, sorry we're late," Alycia's mum apologised to her, and when she looked my way, I felt like she was apologising to me too, but rather more for what was about to go down. Shit, shit, shit.

"It's fine," Alycia got out, keeping up her smile. She spared Clayton a glance before meeting her father's eyes. "I thought it was just us for tea, dad?"

Her father merely shrugged before motioning to Clayton. "Yes, but I bumped into Clayton here yesterday and thought he'd make a great addition to this event! You remember Clayton, right, sweetie?"

Alycia's forced smile was slowly being replaced with a look of confusion. Meanwhile, I was awkwardly rocking back and forth on my heels and trying not to think about what was happening.

"Charlie and Maggie's boy," her dad explained. "Remember?"

Alycia still seemed lost, and as each second passed, I was slowly losing my mind.

"We were in primary school together," Clayton spoke, a smile on his lips. "We had Miss Penny together?"

Alycia narrowed her eyes as she studied him, attempting to put two and two together. "Clayton... Clayton... wait, I think I– Clay? The kid who had that massive nosebleed in the school play?"

Clayton chuckled awkwardly, looking down to his shoes. "That was– yeah, that was me.

Alycia stifled a laugh as she nodded. "Wow, it's been a long time. I guess, how have you been?"

"Good! Good...," he said cheerfully. I wanted to fall asleep right now, that's how dry this conversation was. "I'm actually in the estate agency business now."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah..."

"Pretty big step up from primary school, eh?" I joked as I tried to make myself present, only to cringe internally at my choice to speak because literally everyone looked my way. The only person who didn't have daggers in her eyes, excluding Alycia, was Alycia's mother. She looked like she was amused, if anything.

"Erm, this is my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N," Alycia introduced me. "Y/N, this is–"

"Clayton from primary school, I got that," I cut her off, smiling dryly. Thankfully, nobody got offended, but Alycia did send me a confused stare.

"Girlfriend...?" Clayton seemed surprised, but he overcame that pretty quickly as he smiled in my direction. "Nice to meet you, (your name pronounced wrong)–"

"It's Y/N," I corrected him through gritted teeth and a fake smile.

"Right," he did the same. "Sorry."

There was an awkward, tension-filled silence in the air as Clayton checked out Alycia pretty obviously. I didn't bother hiding the glare I was sending him.

"So, shall we get started?" Alycia's dad asked rhetorically, clapping his hands together.

I clenched my jaw as I looked between them both. I didn't think I could stand sitting through a bloody afternoon tea with this guy. God help me.

—

"...and so I knew I had to buy the car off him," Clayton was telling another one of his boring stories as I sipped from my tea. "It holds too many good memories to simply let go of!"

Alycia's dad chuckled like he'd said the funniest thing in the world whilst Alycia and her mum smiled politely. I wanted to leave. I hated it here and it was very obviously why Alycia's dad had invited Clayton here in the first place. Clayton was just as I expected him to be – rich, boring and ogling my girlfriend – and there was nothing I could do except sit and put up with it.

All tea time, Alycia's dad was asking Clayton questions about his life, whilst trying to involve Alycia and engage them both in conversation. Not once had I been spoken to, unless you counted the few times Alycia tried to involve me with an apologetic look in her eyes. So, I hated it here. And I wanted to leave.

"I've actually bought the car with me if you want to see it," Clayton said to Alycia's dad. "It's parked out front. A wonder, really."

"Oh, how exciting!" he exclaimed, before looking to Alycia. "Why don't we go and take a look?"

Alycia quirked a brow, trying to remain polite. "As much as I'd love that, I'm actually a little tired. I think Y/N and I might go upstairs to relax a little."

Yes, yes, yes. We can leave!

"I'm sure Y/N won't mind if you meet her up there, right, Y/N?" her dad asked, looking to me, before saying to Alycia, "It'll only be a moment, darling, c'mon. Clayton is a guest. We can see him off also."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, but said, "It's fine, Alycia, I'll see you after. Your father is right. You should see off your guest.”

Even saying it aggravated me, but the sooner she went, the sooner Clayton would be gone and the sooner I wouldn't have to see him again.

"Very well," Alycia agreed reluctantly, before standing up. "Shall we?"

We all stood up and I was relieved when I walked in a different direction to them, instead going upstairs to our room to collapse on the bed and mentally switch off.

I'd love to say that that was the last I ever saw of Clayton, but it wasn't.

The next morning, when I thought I was going to eat breakfast with my girlfriend in peace, we came downstairs to find Clayton in the kitchen chatting with Alycia's parents. There was an assortment of muffins and pastries in a basket next to them and I instantly where this was going.

"Alycia, my dear, good morning!" her father said with a smile, stretching out his arm to hug her.

She was as confused as I looked, but hugged her father. "Morning, dad. What's all this?" Glancing at Clayton, she nodded. "Clay, hi."

"Clayton here thought he'd stop by to surprise us with breakfast," her dad explained. "Isn't that thoughtful?"

"Sure is...," Alycia agreed awkwardly.

"Your dad said chocolate croissants are your favourites, so there's a few in there for you," Clayton added with a smile, and the way he was staring at her was enough to make me want to throw up, but I simply stared daggers into his head instead.

"I really appreciate it," Alycia said kindly, "but Y/N and I were actually going to head out for breakfast."

At this, everyone looked to me and I was so used to being ignored in that moment that I suddenly felt nervous.

"It was very nice of you to get the muffin basket though," I said uncomfortably. "Looks like some... great options."

Just kill me now.

"Right... well, Clayton is going to be hanging about here today. We're talking business. So, if you're up for a good old catch up, you know where to find him," Alycia's father said to her.

"I will, dad, thanks," Alycia said with a small smile, before approaching me.

I nodded at him before letting Alycia drag me out of there. Only when we were gone did she stop to look at me apologetically.

"I had no idea he was going to be here again," she said guiltily. "I don't know what my dad is up to, but it's certainly not fair on you."

I shrugged uncomfortably. "I knew he didn't like me, but this is a little weird."

"I'll talk to him," Alycia promised, cupping my face and finding my eyes with hers. "He shouldn't be doing this."

I nodded, not sure I could do much else other than agree, and she pulled me in for a tight hug before letting go.

"Breakfast's on me," she promised, kissing my hand. "Let's go."

—

So, whatever chat Alycia had with her father didn't seem to do the job.

Later that same day, I was lounging around and watching TV by myself whilst Alycia was supposed to be hanging around with her mum. But when I finally got up to find her, hoping to join them to cure my boredom, I couldn't seem to locate either of them. And it definitely didn't help that the Debnam-Careys residence was too large for me to search without an inkling to where they could be.

I tracked down one of the staff members, finding the nearest one and hoping they could help. She was a young-ish girl, older than me but still younger than the other staff here, and seemed friendly enough.

"Sorry to bother you, but have you seen Alycia anywhere?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah, she's out horse riding," the girl answered with a smile.

Barely remembering where she could be doing that since Alycia's tour had already flown from my mind, I asked the staff member, "Thank you. Sorry, what's your name?"

"Millie," she quipped, before suppressing a laugh when she saw my confusion. "Do you need directions to the field?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Am I that obvious?"

She chuckled before saying, "It's just outside. Walk past the shed over there–" She pointed her finger out of the doors from the dining room, "–and it's the one on your left. You won't miss her."

I sighed with relief. "Cheers, Millie. You're a lifesaver."

She nodded. "Anytime."

Following her instructions, I headed outside and tried not to get lost amongst the greenery. Just when I was on track, I turned to the left and indeed found the correct space where Alycia was horse riding. I began to smile as I approached, but then I stopped when I saw she was with Clayton. What the hell was he still doing here?

Her father was there too, watching from the sidelines, but my eyes were glued to Alycia who was sat on her horse as Clayton sat on his, the two of them side by side and chatting with smiles on their faces. I knew Alycia probably got dragged into entertaining him by her father – she had an inability to say no to her parents, I'd noticed. And I also knew that she didn't like Clayton like that, but it still stung a little to see them together.

Despite her wealth and class, she'd only ever been my Alycia. Nothing intimidating about her. And it was definitely more of a me problem, but seeing her like this... horse riding for God's sake, and with a handsome man who was dressed to impress and had heart eyes for her, only made me feel like I didn't really belong here. She was the daughter of a bloody millionaire and I was me. I'd never even saved ten grand, let alone millions.

And yes, this wasn't her problem. She still loved me for me. And I wasn't usually the insecure type. But right now, seeing her, maybe I was starting to become that.

Not wanting to interrupt and definitely not in the greatest of moods anymore, I returned to the house, sulking.

"Did you find her?" Millie asked, and I was surprised she cared enough to.

"Yeah, thank you. She's horse riding alright," I answered, before scowling to nobody in particular. "With Mr Sucky-Handsome Face."

Millie frowned a little, sensing my disappointment. "Is everything okay?"

I sighed deeply. "Oh, yeah, everything's great. Just having the time of my life watching some dude check out my girlfriend in front of me and try to steal her away. Nothing much."

Okay, so I was salty and it was very unprofessional of me to air my grievances to the staff, but I couldn't help it. Alycia wasn't here and I had nobody else to talk to.

"That's shit," Millie said, surprising me. "Sounds like you need to take your mind off it.

I smiled dryly. "If only it were that easy."

"Well, I was going to start baking some dessert for dinner tomorrow," she said, before suggesting, "Maybe you'd like to help? You could prepare something special for Alycia. I'm sure she'd love that."

I glanced at her. "Really? I can do that?"

Millie laughed. "Of course you can! C'mon. Kitchen's this way."

Surprised that she was offering to cheer me up and also that she was so chill to be around, I smiled a little. "Wow, thanks, Millie."

I spent the remainder of the afternoon helping Millie bake some cupcakes in the kitchen, whilst she also helped me put together a little cake for Alycia. We only got as far as baking the cake part since she had to do her other duties as a staff member, but she promised I could help with the icing tomorrow and to say I was a little excited was an understatement. It certainly did the job of helping me forget about stupid Clayton and his inability to leave my girlfriend alone.

By the time the evening rolled around, Alycia and I were eating dinner by ourselves in one of the many dining rooms of the household. It was nice to finally have her to myself, since she'd been MIA all day, though at no fault of her own.

"So, I should probably tell you if you didn't already know," she began, "but I was hanging out with Clayton earlier today."

And just when I thought I'd forgotten about that.

"It was solely because my dad invited him over and basically dragged me away from my mum," she continued to explain, a hint of regret in her voice. "I really didn't want to."

I shrugged, focusing on my dinner plate. "You can't help it if your dad makes you. It's fine, Alycia."

"I told my dad to back off," she assured me, finding my hand on the table. "He claims it's a business venture. An opportunity."

I almost snorted, but remained cool. An opportunity, sure. An opportunity to steal my girlfriend.

"I don't know what he's told Clayton, but I've made it very obvious I'm taken," she said with conviction, tugging my hand and finally earning my attention. Her eyes were searching mine. "He's nothing to worry about, okay?"

I awkwardly began to smile, really not enjoying this conversation. "I know, Alycia."

She didn't seem convinced, but clearly sensing my discomfort, she dropped the topic. With a nod, she let go of my hand and grabbed her fork to twirl her pasta. Meanwhile, I felt icky at the mere thought of Clayton hanging around her again. Why did Alycia's dad hate me that much that he'd try to set his daughter up with some guy whilst I'm right here? Talk about rude!

"So, what did you get up to today?" Alycia asked, thankfully changing the subject. "You weren't bored, I hope?"

As I remembered this afternoon's events, I began to smile, excited to share with Alycia. "Not at all. There's this girl that works here. Millie? Well, she let me help her bake some cupcakes in the kitchens. Which, by the way, your kitchen's huge."

Alycia tried not to laugh as she watched me. "That sounds lovely. So, where are these cupcakes? Do I get a taste?"

"They're not finished yet," I told her with amusement. "Tomorrow's dessert, love. Also, there may or may not be an extra surprise for you."

"Oh, now you have to tell me more," she insisted, and I laughed at her curious expression.

"It wouldn't be a surprise then, idiot," I reminded her. "Tomorrow. You'll find out tomorrow."

She sighed dramatically but nodded. "Very well. It better be dessert-related. All this talk of cupcakes is making me hungry."

"So what I'm hearing is you wanna go on a dessert run," I said with a nod, already convinced.

Her smile widened. "Hell yeah. Finish your pasta and let's go."

I rolled my eyes at her childishness, but did just that. Maybe today wasn't so bad after all and I was just overthinking it.

#alycia debnam carey #alycia debnam carey x you #alycia debnam carey x reader #alycia debnam carey imagine

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