#they shouldn't be allowed on the plane back

[heich0e]

shouto has not stopped talking about his new nephew for an hour and fifty seven minutes.

you can't blame him, really, for not being able to stop rambling since he got home—you saw the photos he snapped on his phone, the sweet little boy is borderline cherubic. and it's his first nephew, after all, with touya being the first of the todoroki siblings to have any children. there's added novelty to this new arrival. the fact that the baby is so cute is just a serendipitous bonus.

"...and then he fell asleep right in my arms." shouto rinses his toothbrush under the stream of water flowing from the tap in your shared bathroom. half the story he'd just told had been lost to the froth of toothpaste in his mouth, talking around the toothbrush as he cleaned his teeth before bed, but he'd already told you this part of the story three times—so thankfully you didn't miss anything.

you smile as shouto wipes at the corner of his mouth with a towel hanging from the rail on one side of the bathroom, watching his reflection in the mirror. his eyes flicker up to meet yours in the surface of the glass, and he sees the mirthful twist at the corner of your mouth.

he turns to you in the narrow bathroom just off your bedroom and approaches you slowly, his arms winding around your waist as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. he's in his pajamas now, ready for bed, and without lifting his head or stepping away from you, he begins shuffling the two of you out the door towards your waiting bed in the next room. you can't help but giggle as you go, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck for balance, allowing him to guide you wherever he sees fit.

shouto leans you back gently once the back of your knees hit the edge of your mattress, crawling overtop of you to get to his side of the bed and then pulling you into his chest once more as he tugs the blankets up around you both.

"sounds like you had a lot of fun today," you remark quietly as you settle into bed, your fingers tracing idle patterns into the flat plane of shouto's sternum.

"i didn't expect him to be so small," shouto replies. "or to smell so good."

you want to laugh at his sincere tone of surprise, but hold it back.

"i hope i get to meet him soon, too," you say.

"touya says you're welcome any time," shouto insists. "he said i'm only welcome some of the time, though."

that really does make you laugh, because you can practically hear the eldest todoroki son's voice saying the words.

it's quiet for a while as you and shouto lay in bed, tangled up together.

"he's gonna make me the godfather," shouto finally says after a while—so softly you almost miss it. the remark, and the tenderness in his voice, makes something in your chest squeeze tight.

"that's so nice, sho," you answer.

"that means if anything ever happens to touya, we get the baby."

'we' he says—not i—like he doesn't for a second picture any future (even one where his beloved older brother has met some untimely demise) without you in it.

"don't wish anything ill on him just because you want to steal his cute baby," you tease him, lifting your head up and resting your chin against his chest so you can watch his face. he looks pensive, like he's really mulling over your words, and it makes you want to laugh again.

"but it would be nice, i think," shouto finally speaks again after his careful contemplation. "having the baby here with us."

heat floods up fast to your cheeks, and you glance away unconsciously. you're sure shouto has no idea what he's just said—still a little giddy from how smitten he is with his new nephew. but it still makes your mind go to places it shouldn't.

"no baby stealing," you reiterate firmly. flopping down again to go to sleep—if for no other reason than you suddenly find it hard to meet his gaze.

shouto sighs a little, but the sound is resigned like he's reluctantly agreeing to your terms. he eases you over onto your side so he can curl up behind you underneath the cover of your quilt, his strong arm looping over your waist.

the heat of shouto's breath hits the shell of your ear as his face rests on the pillow behind you, and you can still smell the spearmint from his toothpaste. his warmth seeps into you as he presses into your back. you close your eyes and luxuriate in the familiarity of it.

"we could have our own, you know," shouto's voice is much nearer to you than you expect it to be when he speaks again, his lips brushing against the back of your ear softly as they shape his words. his hand slips up underneath the t-shirt you wore to bed—the tips of his fingers feel scorching as they ghost across your skin. "and i bet our baby would be even cuter than touya's—no stealing required."

[b4ddprincess]

the void state is easyy, but you're still thinking otherwise?

rant, void state explanation, void state induction, you shouldn't allow feelings to hold you back

i'm sure you all have seen many posts like this. but do y'all just read them and not put any effort into understanding how easy it is to get your dream life?

𝐈. 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 . . .

the void state is described as conscious with 0 physical awareness or pure consciousness. the void state isn't an otherworldly dimension, or a multiverse, or a different plane you're "entering". the void state is simply another state of consciousness.

but here's the problem.... no matter HOW 👏🏼 MANY 👏🏼 TIMES 👏🏼 y'all read, "the void state isn't an otherworldly dimension, or a magical place you're entering." IT STILL DON'T REGISTER IN Y'ALL HEADS??? why is tht? we literally tell y'all like it is, and y'all like y'all searchin for a specific answer, so you refuse to accept the fact that the void state is just a 🙌🏽 state of consciousness 🙌🏽 LIKE ANY OTHER STATE OF CONSCIOUSNESS.

you're NOT going anywhere, you're NOT leaving your body, you're NOT gonna end up sumwhere deep in space, and you're NOT dying! IT'S LITERALLY 👏🏼 JUST 👏🏼 CONSCIOUSNESS 👏🏼 DARLIN! what more of an explanation y'all want?

y'all are reading this post cuz you are conscious, and y'all are aware that you are reading a post, becuz you are aware of your surroundings, and most of us use our 5 physical senses: sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch. pure consciousness is simply you being conscious, but without any physical awareness, and you aren't using your 5 senses.

𝐈𝐈. 𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 . . .

now, the "void" state is extremely easy to induce. as in, there are many ways to induce pure consciousness. however, the main way to induce this state is to detach from what you're experiencing/physically feeling. stop hyperfocusing on your surroundings and how your body feel and be in the moment with your thoughts. the only reason why some of us get "kicked out" of the void state is because our awareness is suddenly placed on our surroundings or our bodies. stay calm. you're literally fine. when you try to feel your body, you will tap out of the state because you're bringing awareness to what you're experiencing/physically feeling. that's why you must stay relaxed and still to stay in this state of consciousness.

relax your body -> focus on the darkness behind your eyelids -> affirm/daydream/think -> pure consciousness

guys, guys, guys.... its so EASYYY to induce pure consciousness that y'all should honestly be embarrassed of yourselves...

the void state is described as conscious with 0 physical awareness

👆🏽 the one part y'all often forget. "0 physical awareness." y'all love to hyperfocus on y'all bodies wayyy too much and that's why you didn't induce the void state then. y'all love to rush every single thing, and it's worse when you're rushing at night time? of all times??

just take slow deep breaths until you don't wanna, relax your mind, don't think about the void state, relax your body, swallow if you want to, adjust your body if you want to, focus on your affirmations/thoughts/daydreams, focus on the darkness behind your eyelids and that 👏🏼 is 👏🏼 all! 👏🏼

you will literally induce pure consciousness at that moment. and FOR CRYING OUT LOUDDD it's JUST........ you being conscious with 0 physical awareness. ok? you're not "eNtErInG" anything.

and you're NOT gonna do this with a trying attitude. you hear me?

i DON'T wanna hear it. don't come to me with no crocodile tears, yuh hear me? cuz i literally told y'all what to do, but you wanna rush it and then flood my inbox.

i can understand sum of y'all reasons, but the REST OF YALL..... y'all hadda be jokin..

(my caribbean dialect wanna peek thru on dis post so badly 😒)

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 . . .

ahh yes... desperation. one of our biggest enemies... followed by impatience... followed by our doubts... and the cycle repeats. but where was this desperation rooted? at the thought of getting all of your desires instantly? at the idea that the void state is hard to achieve, and you must do everything right to "get in" to get your desires? where is your desperation rooted?

and then there's fear....... the biggest enemy here.

what exactly are you scared of? failure? living a new dream life in the outer world? what is making you fearful?

if you're fearful of not being able to induce the void state awake, tht's doubt. if you're fearful of time running out on you, tht's desperation and impatience. fear is the main source of those other feelings you experience. you shouldn't allow fear, to control your actions, cuz you're just holding yourself back. and i know you don't want to be held back, but you keep holding yourself back. you run method to method and you may find yourself circling back to a method, and then you circle back to another method... you keep running away from one of the easiest ways of inducing pure consciousness (the 2nd easiest way is to decide and tht has to do with states/loass, but we're not on tht rn).

how many times do i have to tell you the simple things to do to induce pure consciousness? and how many times y'all gonna ignore and ask for a method and then tell me "i didn't get in 😔"? yall are complicating the void state too much, and it NEEDS to stop!

you can literally induce pure consciousness at this time, but no... you're scared of failure when you actually can't fail. it's either you're focusing on your body, or you're not. it's either you're focusing on time, or you're not.

plus, y'all constantly make the void state sound like this big thing, when it actually isn't.

but anywho, i better see a bunch success stories in my inbox, even if it's just a 1 second experience in the void state. i'm gonna delete any asks tht are already answered in my posts, and i genuinely hope yall reflect on this post and apply 💗

i've said my piece.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Mimic II

McFoord x Baby!Reader

Beth England x Baby!Reader

Summary: You're scrappy

The day that it first happens is the match against United.

It's a home game and you're very familiar with the layout as you sit by one of the girls on the bench on your leash and watch.

Mam, predictably, gets a yellow card and you screech your outrage at the ref no matter how much nice Lotte tries to calm you down.

You think Lotte is an alright babysitter but she's very easy to get to do what you want and you know Mummy doesn't like that sometimes. You think she's told Lotte that too because she's got a tight grip on your leash and doesn't let you wander into Jonas' box to scream like you can usually get her to do.

So, you have to amuse yourself by tearing up grass and getting your hands all dirty.

The game ends with a narrow win for Arsenal and Mummy comes to get you very quickly.

You tug at the buckles of your leash. "Off! Off, Mummy!"

"Sorry, gremlin," Mummy laughs," But you have to be on the leash. You know why."

You stamp your foot as Mummy cleans your hands.

"Mam not on leash!" You say finally," Mam was naughty! Yellow rectangle for Mam!"

You're making a good point. Caitlin doesn't want to quite admit that though. You're on the leash because you're naughty sometimes and Katie definitely did get a yellow card today.

She sighs.

It's not the same at all but, for the sake of fairness, Caitlin lets you win this round.

Begrudgingly and definitely to avoid a tantrum, she unclips your leash.

You look positively delighted and she catches your arm before you go running off.

"Stay where me or Mam can see you," She says," And no biting people."

You nod. "I not bite."

"Alright," She says," Go on, run wild."

You giggle hysterically as you run off. You've not quite mastered running though because you trip a few times before pulling yourself up again.

You wander through the crowd of players until you spot the United keeper that saved Mummy's goal.

That's kind of naughty, you think. Saving Mummy's goal shouldn't be allowed.

The girl's kind of tall and she looks strong. She's wearing a different coloured shirt to the other United girls so you can easily track her through the crowd.

She's talking to Leah too and you know how to recognise Leah.

When people are naughty, you usually like to bite them but Mummy told you that you're not allowed to bite today so you choose the next best thing.

Mam says you're scrappy sometimes. You don't know what that means but you think it applies to this situation.

You creep up behind the girl before slamming the top of your head into the back of her knee.

She crumbles to the ground instantly, folding over like the pieces of paper that Mam uses to make paper planes.

"Mary!" Leah shrieks as the girl rolls onto her back.

"What the fuck?!"

You stand over her and wiggle your finger right in front of her face. You stamp your foot for good measure. "No save Mummy goal! Is naughty!"

"What-? Who are you?!"

Leah's hand pulls you further away. "This is Katie and Caitlin's kid," She says," Gremlin, say sorry."

"No! Say sorry first! Save Mummy's goal!"

Thankfully, this United girl (once she's recovered from her sudden fall) takes it in her stride.

"I'm sorry, kid," She laughs," It was only doing my job."

"Naughty job!" You insist," Not happen again!"

It's not exactly an isolated incident either. It seems after every match, you find some player to fight with.

It freaks most of them out, you think, because they're big and strong and you're tiny but still very capable of getting them to the grounds.

You surprise lots of people like Auntie Macca and Auntie Lanni, who find it all so funny that they send you off to do it to their teammates too.

Mummy doesn't like it though. She says that she's raising a delinquent and Mam says it's the McCabe genes, whatever that means.

You're not stingy in who you attack. Everyone is free game but there's one person that you really enjoy fighting with.

Her name's Beth. Beth England, to be exact because there's already a Beth at Arsenal and this one plays for Spurs instead.

Mam says that Spurs is Arsenal's number one rival and you have to hate them because they play in white and white is a colour you can never keep clean.

Beth England wears the armband that Captain Kim wears so you can easily recognise her in a crowd.

She's your nemesis.

That's a big word that Mummy taught you when you were watching Phineas and Ferb a few days ago.

"You need to be very good if I let you off," She says to you and you nod even though you're lying," I mean it. No fighting with Spurs players."

You lie again and nod.

"Alright, give me a kiss first and I'll let you go."

You give Mummy a big wet kiss and immediately, you're on your way.

Mam joins you on your journey and she demonstrates how to hold your fist if you're going to fight someone. She thinks your rivalry with Beth England is funny.

Mummy doesn't like her encouraging it but she does.

"Nem-sis!" You screech when Mam guides you over.

Beth England looks confused. "Nem-sis?"

"She means nemesis," Mam explains," It's her word of the week."

"Oh, right."

"Nem-sis!" You screech again to regain her attention. "Fight me!"

Beth England clears her throat before mimicking your position and putting up her fists.

You run at her.

You don't think she expects that. You think she thinks you were going to punch her but Mam says the element of surprise is important so you crash into her legs and try to topple her over.

She stays standing and you're unable to move her but you don't stop trying.

Behind your head, Katie smothers a laugh and gives Beth a pointed look.

She nods and very carefully lays on the ground like you've forced her over.

You look triumphant and sit on her stomach to stop her from getting up again.

You poke her right between her eyes. "Arsenal best!" You proclaim," Say!"

"Never!"

"Arsenal best!" You bounce on her stomach to show that she's not going anywhere. "Say!"

"You can't make me!"

"Say or! Or go on leash for being naughty!"

That's it. You've got her trembling under your might now and she goes limp.

"Arsenal's the best!" She proclaims," Arsenal's the best! Don't put me on the leash!"

"Good!" You stand up and wiggle your finger at her. "London red! Not dirty white!"

You run back over to Mam and take her hand.

"I beat Beth England!"

"You did!" Mam says," I'm so proud of you."

"'Cause London red!"

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 8

"I cannot believe you told my wife your date was with *Lena Luthor*," Alex whispers mid-yell, "before you told me!"

"Would it have changed your recommendation?"

At that, Kara hears Alex pause to consider.

"No," comes the final response. Then, "Did it work?"

Kara flushes-- she'd certainly gotten the reaction she'd been looking for. She just isn't sure she wants her sister to know that they hadn't fully resolved that desire.

"Well enough," Kara returns, settling on an incomplete truth. She'd explain the rest later... eventually.

A muttered curse issues over the line. "Jesus. How did this even happen? Wait-- what happens now? Esme said her next show is in, like... 16 hours, in Denver."

Kara smiles into the phone. "We stay in touch."

She's already received a picture via text, showing Lena with a tongue-out wink and a playful peace sign. Another photo had revealed a sticky bun, with a note that Lena had gotten Jess to swing by Noonan's on the way to the airport.

Though the sight of the sticky bun had made her hungry, the selfie made her pause to absorb the image. From the relaxed tousle of Lena's wavy hair, to the ray-bans hooked on the collar of her shirt, and the luxury of the private plane lurking around the edges.... she wonders if Lena realizes just how far she's letting Kara in, allowing her to see Lena in so personal a setting.

Kara's response had been simple. "Fly safe."

It had earned her a floating heart emoji and a promise to touch base upon landing.

"That's it?" Alex asks, pulling Kara back to the present.

Kara huffs a laugh. "What did you expect? She wasn't going to cancel half a national tour for personal time with someone she only met two days ago."

"Well why not? You're worth it."

"You're only saying that because you're my sister," Kara counters. "Besides, I don't want that for her."

Seeing Lena on stage had proven it's something the woman enjoyed. She thrived on the experience of it, and so did the thousands of fans who came to see her.

Which is why, a few hours after Lena's first Denver show would have concluded, Kara is surprised to receive a call from Lena. They'd facetimed when she'd landed, so the lack of video is her first clue that something isn't right.

"Hey," Kara greets, pressing the phone to her ear as she wipes sleep from her eyes. She'd meant to stay awake to check in herself, but not even a book had been able to keep her from dozing off.

"Hey."

Lena's voice is somber. It's such a difference that a wave of concern wakes Kara the rest of the way.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

There's a short pause before Lena responds. "Nothing."

"How was the show?"

"Fine. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be calling so late. I just... I wanted to hear your voice." Lena pauses again. "Is that weird?"

"No." Kara listens closely to the quiet that follows, as though it might give her some insight into what was happening on the other end of the line. "Lena..."

"Could you... talk to me?"

"About what?"

"Anything. Just... so I can listen."

Kara's brow furrows. She fights the impulse to dig deeper, to push to find the why. She doesn't need to know. Lena has asked for what she needs-- and it's something Kara is able and willing to give.

"Did I ever tell you that I didn't always live in National City?"

Lena hums a negative, prompting Kara to continue.

"I'm actually from a town up the coast. Midvale. I miss it sometimes. The stars mostly. In high school, I had friend named Kenny, and we would take his telescope to the old barn, and we would chart the skies together..."

Kara goes on, relating many and more of the troubles she and Kenny had gotten up to in those days. She was careful to steer clear of his murder, and the bullying they'd both experienced. Lena needed distraction, not more heartache.

As she speaks, Lena hums occasionally, sometimes even giving a chuckle. When the sounds of her following along peters out, Kara pauses to listen if Lena notices the stop. When no reaction comes, Kara smiles to herself.

"Lena?" she asks softly. "Still there?"

No answer comes, but when Kara increases the volume on her phone, she can hear the steady inhale and exhale of sleep. Kara listens for a few heartbeats more.

"Sweet dreams, Lena."

[astonmartinii]

hey hey:) don’t know if you do requests but i was wonder if you could do a lando smau where the reader is scotty james’ younger sibling and is a snowboarder too?

frost bitten | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x james!reader

lando is dating scotty james' younger sister, all is well until some on track beef causes some problems at home.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, scottyjames and 340,981 others

tagged: landonorris, danielricciardo

yourusername: when you're in a third wheeling competition and your opponent is me with lando and daniel

view all comments

user1: the stroll x james x norris x ricciardo family is so confusing but i love it

landonorris: when i'm in a being a cutie patootie competition and my opponent is y/n y/ln

yourusername: you're forgiven for not playing uno with me on the plane

landonorris: you know we're not allowed to play uno or monopoly in an enclosed space after the inchident

yourusername: i thought you'd make an exception for me

landonorris: you know i would, it's danny we have to worry about

danielricciardo: i don't know why i'm catching strays when you're the one who tried to commit grievous bodily harm over a +4 card

landonorris: THAT WAS ONE TIME

user2: the james family are so blessed with genetics it's crazy

mclaren

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 560,667 others

tagged: yourusername

mclaren: lando and oscar are wrapped up warm with ice queen y/n james in the garage with us this weekend. the two time x-games winner and olympic gold medalist snowboarder is our special guest this weekend in barcelona.

view all comments

user3: so do all the teams just have joint custody of the james siblings?

astonmartin: some would say our catering is the best though

mclaren: y/n would have to disagree

redbullracing: i think we ALL know that we have the best catering

user4: the way they still introduce y/n as a snowboarder not lando's girlfriend

user5: i mean that is her profession

yourusername: i loved it as usual <3

landonorris: just cause i was there

yourusername: idk... oscar's coffee bangs

landonorris: i can think of something else of mine that bangs

oscarpiastri: THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE

user6: did they invite her so she could show lando how to actually win?

yourusername: first of all, BOOOOOO, second of all, thanks i'm going to steal that for whenever he's mean to me

landonorris: i've factually never been mean to you ever

yourusername: you literally tripped me this morning

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 448,956 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: proud of you always

view all comments

user10: i'm so gutted for lando, all that work to get on the front row only be taken out by no fault of his own

landonorris: i love you baby

yourusername: i love you too, it'll come to you soon, karma always prevails

user11: y/n talking about karma as if it isn't her soon-to-be brother-in-law

user12: she's always been the messy james sibling and we love her for it

user13: is she wrong though

mclaren: we'll come back stronger

yourusername: look after my boy, please

user13: fair play my guy got shunted but why are we acting like he's been murdered?

yourusername: lando has worked so so hard this season despite all the set backs so apologies if the first chance he got to prove himself was taken from him

scottyjames: can we like not text each other? why are you airing out the family business

yourusername: i'm not airing anything out, if anything you're doing exactly that by putting your two pence in

scottyjames: sorry for thinking my sister might have finally grown up and might have an adult conversation

yourusername: stop acting holier than thou like you don't curse everyone else out

user14: anyone else feel like we shouldn't be reading this?

comments on this post have been limited

f1dramaandtea

liked by user15, user16 and 2,309 others

f1dramaandtea: it's all getting a bit heated, y/n and lando skipped the james-stroll family dinner after the racing incident between lando and lance. scotty and y/n went back and forth in the comments of her post of support for lando. with the x games coming up, will the siblings reconcile?

view all comments

user17: i feel like i'm watching the family argument at thanksgiving

user18: do i think y/n is being dramatic? maybe. but at the same time her lando are super serious and it's only natural for her to want to defend him

user19: idk i think scotty is being the dramatic one, lance was clearly in the wrong and to not even give lando any sympathy was crazy imo

user20: once again i am begging for public figures to sort their shit offline especially now considering they are SIBLINGS

user21: i think it'll be fine in a couple days, scotty and y/n always bicker but they always get over it.

landonorris

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 901,981 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: the only one i'll ever need

view all comments

user22: like the beef is super sad and everything, but the lovey dovey posts from y/n and lando are keeping us FED

yourusername: you're such a sap, but you're my sap

landonorris: god i love you so so much

yourusername: forever and always

user23: i simply cannot wait for the canadian grand prix i need the drama

danielricciardo: oh to be young and in love

landonorris: thank you old man

danielricciardo: i am literally trying to be nice???

scottyjames: very cute

user24: i feel like this is a bit sarcastic

yourusername: oh grow up scotty

lancestroll: okay like can we get over it yet, me and lando have spoken i think y'all are just being stubborn now

yourusername: i'm a taurus let me live

yourusername

liked by landonorris, lancestroll and 498,019 others

yourusername: what do you mean it's the biggest two weeks of my life? oh it's just the x games and the canada gp !! let's go lando and see whether we can go for gold again

view all comments

user25: as a lando and y/n stan i AM SO STRESSED I NEED THEM TO DO SO WELL

landonorris: you'll kill it baby i know you will

yourusername: couples that slay together stay together

landonorris: the rest of the world quakes in fear at our slay

yourusername: we'll come together to maximise our joint slay

oscarpiastri: okay i think we get it

user26: so like i need a double james gold even if it kills me

carlossainz55: good luck y/n you'll smash it

yourusername: thank you carlos, you and charles' snowboarding lessons will resume in the winter break

charles_leclerc: lord knows we need them

landonorris: not everyone has godgiven talent like myself

yourusername: baby, we all know it took over 10 lessons before you could even go more than 10ft before falling over

landonorris: baby you said you wouldn't tell anyone

scottyjames and yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,209,667 others

scottyjames and yourusername: siblings that board together, win together. we may fight like crazy, but we'll always be there for each other, whether it is grabbing toilet roll or winning gold !! big love to you all and thank you for all the support xx

view all comments

user28: JAMES SIBLING SLAY AS THEY SHOULD

landonorris: super super proud of you y/n

scottyjames: wow lando i thought we were over this

landonorris: what if i told you i was just taken aback by y/n's beauty and talent

scottyjames: hmmmmm, i'll give you a pass this once

landonorris: i joke - congrats scotty, i'm so happy for you

yourusername: thank you baby xxxx

astonmartin: war is over !! congrats scotty and y/n

danielricciardo: big moves from the james siblings as per

yourusername: you know it 💅

scottyjames: thank you baby

f1

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,304,781 others

tagged: scottyjames, landonorris, lancestroll, danielricciardo, yourusername

f1: my big fat f1 snowboarding wedding - scotty james and chloe stroll tied the knot this weekend and it was a star-studded affair

view all comments

user28: i would sell a kidney to have been there

yourusername: magical weekend

landonorris: us next?

yourusername: teehee, need a ring first

danielricciardo: @mclaren come get you driver he's going crazy

landonorris: crazy in love

carlossainz55: are you still drunk?

user29: they all look SO GOOD

user30: this y/n and scotty reconciliation is hitting like crack

user31: i fee like we're glossing over lando saying he wants to marry y/n

oscarpiastri: try spending five minutes with them and you'll know they'll get married asap

note: eeeeeee hope you enjoy and this actually meets your request!! i had loads of fun writing this tbf xx

[officialaemondtargaryen]

A Fine Line [part 5]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader / Modern Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~7.2k

Author’s Note: I'm just going to go ahead and put this on a mini-hiatus because I'm moving in less than a month and I don't want anyone waiting for updates. Please note, I have e v e r y intention of finishing this series. I have been writing this for a year, and while it was my intention to be finished by now, you have to understand that I began writing this after my own long-term relationship began to unravel due to many of the same feelings the reader feels towards Aegon. Over the last year, I was able to successfully fix the foundation of my relationship, but it was a rough journey. I have a very clear direction of where this is going, life is just very hectic. It has not been my intention to let anyone down with how spaced out the chapters have been.

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, language, alcohol use, recreational drug use.

Masterlist & Playlist

"I shouldn't have put you through that." 

Aegon's words reached you softly as you removed your earrings and carefully unpinned your hair. He was standing in the threshold of your bedroom, leaning against the door frame; two empty wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of merlot in the other. 

You looked at him through the reflection of the mirror.  His dress shirt was slightly undone at the top and untucked from his slacks– barefoot, he approached you quietly; pouring you both a glass before moving to sit on the bed. You turn to him, taking a glass from his hand, lips sinking into a sad smile as your eyes glanced over at the small suitcase he had packed, sitting next to the door. 

Otto wanted him on a plane to Seattle first thing Monday morning. 

"I always used to wonder why I had never met them," you replied, dropping your shoulders as you took a sip from your glass. The corners of your lips turn upwards as you say, "I thought that you were ashamed of me." 

"Ashamed of them," he countered quickly and rolled his eyes. He reached his hand out and you took a step closer, allowing for him to pull you in. His hands rested on your hips as you stood between his knees, holding his head in your hands. "I could never be ashamed of you."

A silence falls over the two of you as he rests his head forehead against yours and lets out a sigh, holding you tight against him. Your hands move to his hair; softly carding through the thick, blonde strands and he hums in response as his own fingers curl in the velvet fabric of your dress. He lifts his head to look into your eyes and whispers that he loves you. Your hand traces along his jawline until you’re holding his chin between your fingers. His blue eyes are glossy like sea glass and his lips are stained red, both from the wine. 

You can feel his hands slide down your backside, smoothing out the crushed blue velvet until he’s reached the hem. He hasn’t kissed you yet, but his lips are taunting, hovering just centimeters from your own. His eyes are fixated on yours as his fingertips move under your dress, teasing slowly up the backs of your thighs. Your eyes lull shut, feeling the touch that you were so desperate for. 

“I would hope he wouldn’t be foolish enough to–” Aemond’s words were planted within you, taking root in your insecurities and spreading like disease. “He’s been known to be a bit thoughtless in the past.”

You take Aegon’s hands in yours and stop him from going any further. It’s the last thing that you want to do, but you need to know. His brows crease as he looks at you, clearly confused. 

“I need to ask you something,” your voice is soft and unsure as you bite your lip. His expression shifts from confusion to concern as he senses the gravity of your words. 

He nods slowly, gently encouraging you to continue. 

You draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you're about to say. The weight of your question hangs heavy in the air, and for a moment, the room feels suffocatingly silent. “Where were you last Friday night after the gala?”

"I-" Aegon's gaze softens with understanding, voice trailing off momentarily before he clears his throat, attempting to gather his thoughts. “After the gala, Otto and I went back to the office to figure out what to do with Stark International. We’ve offered them everything we can and they still aren’t biting. They agreed to one last offer, and we wanted to do it in person, hence Seattle.”

You study his face intently, searching for any sign of deception, but his expression remains open and honest, his features relaxed. Despite his explanation, that gnawing sense of doubt continued to nag at the most insecure parts of your mind, fueled by the lingering uncertainty that has plagued your relationship for too long. You wanted to believe him, you had no reason not to, but the suspicion lingered; stubbornly persistent, refusing to be silenced by his words. 

He looks at you for a moment and finally the realization washes over him.

“You thought I was–” Aegon’s voice trails off as your eyes meet and you reluctantly nod your head, silently confirming his thoughts. He stands immediately and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him. Tears instantly well in your eyes. “I am so, so sorry that I made you feel that way,” he murmurs softly, his lips against your hair. "You need to know that you are the only good thing in my life, and I know that things haven’t been the way they used to be, but I’d never do that to you. I’ve just been so stressed lately."

“You can talk to me about it,” you mumble against his chest before you peel yourself from him to look into his eyes. Aegon tenderly brushes a tear from your cheek, his expression almost breaking. “You don’t have to shut me out.” 

“I know,” he sighs and moves to grab his wine glass from the bedside table, gulping the rest of the liquid. He plants himself back on the bed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his stress. 

“Do you?” You ask, wiping your hands over your face before grabbing your own glass; taking a deep breath to reset before bringing the glass to your lips. “Aegon, what is going on?”

He only shrugs in response and it is then you can see the fatigue etched into the lines of his face; in the downturn of his lips, across his brow, the bags under his eyes. He looks almost unrecognizable. There’s no happiness behind his eyes, no hope. His face is gaunt rather than round and full. He looks miserable– a shell of his former self. His lips are pale as they part to speak. 

“It’s all so much,” his voice quivers, stumbling over the barricades of his emotion. A single tear falls to his cheek. “I feel as if I’m drowning in expectations– in responsibilities that I never asked for.”

All that you can do is listen, despite the way your fingers ached to reach forward and hold him. 

“The worst part is that I don’t even know who I am outside of it,” he continues; his words laced with desperation. “It’s the only thing I know now. I can’t do anything about it because what else would I be? I have no choice.”

“Aegon, that’s not true,” you say and take a step towards him. “You absolutely have a choice if it’s making you this unhappy.” 

“I do?” He scoffs with a bitter laugh. “At the risk of disappointing everyone in my life?” 

“Who are you disappointing? Your family?” A chuckle escapes your lips, “The ones that you kept me a secret from for four years? Who you say are poisonous, power-hungry cunts? That family?”

“It’s hard for you to understand, I get it,” he rolls his eyes and waves you off.

“It’s not hard to understand, Aegon,” your exhale is sharp. “Some bridges are just better off burned.”

“No, it is hard for you to understand,” he pointed. “It’s not just them that I’d be disappointin’!”

You look at him, allowing his words to linger in the space that had grown between you in the last year or so. Your heart cracks at the sight of him. You’ve never seen him like this before; completely stripped of the facade that he often wore. It was almost unsettling to see him so vulnerable. You take another step forward and cup his cheek, your touch tender as it reaches his skin. He looks as if he’s made of glass and he’s going to break into a thousand pieces right in front of you– right in your hands, broken and unable to be repaired.

“D’you know what I mean now?” He asks, his soft eyes meeting yours. 

“Baby, you could never disappoint me,” you tell him after a few moments of silence. 

“But I already have,” he takes your hand from his cheek and holds it in his own. “Is that not what this is about? You thought I was cheating, that’s pretty fucking disappointing if you ask me,” he says with a dejected smile. “When all I really wanted was to make sure that we’d be okay for whatever comes next– a house, a wedding, kids…”

His gaze is once again locked with yours. Your breath hitches in your throat. Years ago, when you had first met, you had spent many nights laying on his living room floor, high, talking about the future. That same future that he was alluding to right now; a house in the quiet part of the city, three bedrooms with a great view near the park, wine in your tumbler at soccer practice while a pale-haired boy– who looks the spitting image of his father– scores his second goal of the game. You hadn’t nailed down a name yet, but you did have a list. 

“Instead, I was pushing you away,” his voice cuts through your fantasy; gaze lowering to the beige carpet beneath your feet. Another tear falls to his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

You take a deep breath and pull him into you, cradling him in your arms. His head instantly nuzzles into your chest, pulling you as close and as tightly to him as he can manage. His grip is almost desperate, as if afraid to let go, and you feel his breath warm and ragged against your skin. You pull back, holding him at arm's length as you look into his broken eyes. His face is blotchy red, wet with tear tracks down to his chin. For a moment, you just hold him there, your eyes locked, searching for the right words. 

“Aegon,” you say in a whisper. “I love you.”

His eyes soften at your words, lip quivering softly as he moves his hands to hold your face. A fresh wave of tears wells up in his eyes as a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He leans in, resting his forehead against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. 

“I love you,” he repeats back with sincerity. “You mean everything to me.”

Slowly, Aegon closes the distance between you and your lips meet in a gentle kiss. It's soft at first, tentative and gentle, as if testing the waters; scared to get your hopes up for something more that typically never came. Yet, the kiss deepened, becoming heavy with the need for reassurance. You give in almost too easily, melting into his lips as he pulls you onto him. Your dress scrunches at the hips as you straddle his waist and his hands slide up your back.

A soft moan escapes your lips as your kisses become desperate. Aegon follows willingly; his hands and lips are everywhere. He’s clawing at the neckline of your dress, anguishing for more skin. His lips are searing as he places open mouthed kisses along your shoulder. You can hear stitches ripping, but you’re lost in the feeling of his mouth on you. He’s removed your bra, helping himself to handfuls of your breasts. Your head falls back at the sensation, lipstick smeared lips parted open as you moan. His hands drop to your thighs, smoothing over the taut fabric of your tights as his fingertips dip under the hemline of your dress. He grips the fullness of your ass with both hands before pulling your dress the rest of the way over your head. 

He’s almost irresistible with that full, pink pout. His lips are swollen already, his eyes full blown with desire as you made quick work of the buttons on his dress shirt. In one fluid motion, Aegon picks you up and lays you back down on the bed. As he begins to unbutton his slacks, you sit up and swat his hands away. He whines, head tipping back, as you place a kiss on the skin beneath his navel. His cock twitches beneath his slacks and you smirk; looking up at him with wide eyes as you slowly work the zipper. You can feel he’s throbbing, desperate to be free from his clothing. 

You don’t undress him completely– just enough to allow his cock to spring free. Your tongue slides across your bottom lip as you take his girth in your hand. He shivers at the touch and you look back up at him; he’s waiting patiently, but also looks as if he’s going to unravel. He holds the base of his cock with one hand and delicately cradles your neck with the other, his thumb gently smoothing across your bottom lip. 

“Open,” he instructed and you did so obediently.

Aegon’s head fell back as he forced himself to the back of your throat, reveling in the feeling of your muscles tightening around his thick cock with each time you gagged; his whimpering moans fueling you. Saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth and down your chin, dampening your chest. He watches you in delirium, pushing himself deeper as he relishes in the feeling; not realizing how long it had actually been until this very moment. He was hardly unable to control himself, already coming undone at the seams and you hadn’t even begun.

He quickly pulls himself from your mouth, exhaling a shaky breath as you gasp for air. He’s edging himself, not wanting to ruin the moment, not when it’s been so long since he’s had you. He pushes you back, pressing you into the mattress beneath him and groans at the sight. You’re shy under his gaze– despite the fact that he’s seen you like this plenty of times– you can’t help but squirm sheepishly as his eyes roam your figure. You’re not completely undressed yet, but that doesn’t stop him from admiring you. 

“I’m so lucky,” he whispers with soft eyes, tracing his fingertips along your curves. 

You shiver, biting your bottom lip as his touch descends to your hips. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your tights, slowly sliding them down your thighs. He lowers his head, planting tender kisses along your inner thighs and knees, leaving a trail down your legs until he reaches your ankles and removes the tights completely. He swears at the sight of you completely exposed and all his; hungry eyes tracing across every supple curve. His hands caress back up your thighs, spreading them gently as he moves lower, his lips following the path of his fingers. Each kiss he plants on your skin sends a jolt of electricity through you, making your breath hitch. When he reaches your core, his touch is gentle, reverent, as if he’s kneeling before an altar. 

He looks up at you one last time, eyes dark with desire, before he dips his head between your thighs. His tongue flicks out, teasing you with a gentle touch that makes you gasp. He works slowly at first, exploring and savoring every reaction he elicits from you. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers curling into the soft strands as you arch into his touch. Slowly, his movements become more purposeful, more focused. His tongue and lips work in perfect harmony to drive you closer to the edge. He finds a rhythm that makes you tremble, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. 

The pressure builds, a coil tightening in your belly until it snaps, and you cry out his name, your body quaking with the force of your climax. Yet, Aegon doesn’t stop. He prolongs your pleasure until you’re spent; body sinking back into the mattress as sweat beads on your forehead. He removes his mouth from your sopping cunt with a wet smirk. His face is flushed, lips glistening with your essence. He hums in delight at the mess you’ve caused and spreads your dripping folds with his fingers, toying with you. 

“Look at you,” he praised. “How many times can I make you cum tonight?”

“Aegon,” you whimpered as he rubbed circles around your clit. 

He watched intently as you reacted to the feeling of him touching you in such an intimate way. Your back lifted from the bed, arching as his movements became faster and harder. You were closing in on another climax; eyes rolled back, lips parted, hands grasping at the sheets. He pumped his fingers inside of you- one, and then two, curling back and forth until he could feel your body tightening around him. He used his free hand to hold you in place, keeping you still– his fingers twirling around a nipple. Once he knew you wouldn’t be able to last any longer, he pulled his fingers from your core and immediately replaced them with his mouth. Your hands flew to his hair as you pushed yourself completely against his face, hips thrusting as you spew curse words; a tidal wave of pleasure sweeping over your entire body.

Aegon was far from being done with you, however. 

After your body was left shaking– and he had lapped up every drop of cum that drooled from your slit– he was on top of you, once again, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself. Your tongue pushes beyond his lips, exploring his mouth. He whimpers, feeling his cock brush against your hot core. Your hands roam over his body, feeling the heat of his skin, the strength of his muscles. You tug at his pants, and he quickly sheds them, his need for you evident in every movement. 

His eyes were tender as he gazed down to you; lining himself up with your entrance, rubbing his tight cock head over your already pulsating clit. A guttural moan bubbled in his throat as he cursed at the tightness of you. Before he was all the way inside of you, he pulled himself back out and then forced himself back in; filling you to the hilt. The size of him tearing through your walls made you gasp, a sound that was muffled by his lips. His hips moved against yours, each thrust becoming more synchronized. 

The sounds of your moans filled the room, along with the tapping of the headboard on the wall. The sensation was overwhelming. Aegon moves with a tenderness that takes your breath away. Each thrust is measured, controlled, as if he is trying to savor every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper, your bodies moving in perfect sync. He ducked his head to the crook of your neck as he continued to move, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to last much longer; not after all the foreplay. Nevertheless, the pace quickens, driven by a shared urgency and need to lose yourselves in each other. His name falls from your lips softly, like a prayer. His breath is hot against your skin and with a shaking moan- he was pulling himself out of you and spilling his hot cum in a line right up your stomach.

Aegon rests his forehead against yours as the last little bit of his seed drips from his tip. He collapses beside you, pulling you close, your bodies still entwined. Your chest is heaving as you try to steady your breathing. He watches you tenderly, drinking in the sight. His lips find yours for a soft, breathless kiss and you moan softly against his lips as your body still tingles from the high of that final climax.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” he murmurs softly, pressing a final kiss to your lips and shuffling from the bed. He pauses at the threshold, glancing back at you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re so beautiful, maybe I should just leave you like this,” he says with a playful smile. 

“Aegon,” you whine, shooing him away playfully. 

He laughs, disappearing into the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. 

You can’t help the smile on your own lips, bathing in the afterglow of the intimacy you had just shared. He returns shortly after and begins gently cleaning you; his touch tender and attentive as always. You giggled with him, softly joking back and forth together. For a moment, it feels like it used to, and you silently hoped it would remain this way. Though, you were hesitant to get your hopes up knowing that it would be unfair of you to expect change overnight. 

Afterward, you both lay in bed, entangled in each other’s arms. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. You can’t help but think about the weight he carries– the unfair expectations his family has placed on him, the pressure to be something he isn’t and the constant fear of failure and disappointment. You almost don’t want to bring it up, but you don’t want to return to the silence that you had become so accustomed to; the need to connect and understand him outweighs your hesitation.

“What’s going to happen with your dad?” You ask softly, looking up at him. 

He groans and breathes out a sigh, clearly not wanting to talk about work. Not now. Though that reluctance was part of the ongoing problem between the two of you; the rift, the distance, it was all because he’d just rather not talk about it– deciding always to carry his stress alone. He reaches over to the bedside table and grabs his wine glass, swirling the liquid as he contemplates how to answer.

“The man I saw tonight at dinner is not capable of running a company,” you add before he can say anything, hoping to break through his reluctance.

“And that will stay in the family,” Aegon sighs, his fingers trailing lightly over your shoulder as he makes deliberate eye contact. It feels like a warning. “We– they don’t want the truth about his condition to get out. Rhaenyra doesn’t even know the full extent of it. If she did, she could challenge for ownership of the company. As long as she and everyone else believes that Viserys Targaryen is well enough, Otto can continue with business as usual. The second the truth gets out, she’ll come for us all.”

“But how?”

“According to her, she has a trust that was signed years ago– before I was even born– naming her successor in the event that anything happened.”

“Does she?” you ask, searching his eyes.

“She might,”Aegon shrugs, a weary smile tugging at his lips. “I hope she does. My father never wanted me to take over the company, anyways, he’s always wanted it to be her, but my mother swears that he signed a second trust that would name me CEO. If Rhaenyra were to come forth with a trust superseding the one my mother has or if it were to come out that my mother may have forged that document–” 

He trails off, eyes distant as he plays out that scenario in his head. He shakes his head, as if trying to dislodge the thought, and then looks back at you. 

“Can we change the subject?”

You nod understandingly and ask after a few moments of silence, “are you ready for Seattle?”

He sets his wine glass down and pulls you close again, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he wraps his arms around you, “I’m not ready to leave you.” 

You smile to yourself but say nothing as you lightly graze his skin with your fingertips. As you lay there with him in your arms, your mind drifts to the implications of everything he’s just shared. You knew about Rhaenyra, you knew there was some sort of a power struggle, but you didn’t know the specifics. Aegon didn’t want you caught up in it and you were starting to understand why. You had a great career, but Aegon’s position meant security. The uncertainty of his future affected more than just him. You couldn’t even begin to relate to the pressure he must have felt, what little bit he decided to share with you tonight couldn’t have been but the tip of the iceberg. The weight of it all presses down on you, but you push the thoughts away, focusing instead on the warmth of his body against yours.

The rest of the weekend was spent in that very spot; only getting up for more wine, for take out deliveries, to shower– but only together. Aegon didn’t answer a single phone call that weekend, sending his grandfather to voicemail every time. You were living in a haze, drowning out the sounds of the phone ringing with your moans; fucking again and again until you’d fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

The world outside ceased to exist, at least for two fleeting days. 

When Monday morning comes, you wake to find him already gone; a sense of emptiness where his warmth had been just hours before. On the bedside table, next to your empty wine glass, there’s a note written in a familiar scrawl: “Back soon, I love you always.” A small smile settles on your lips as you read his words. He’d only be gone for one day, returning tomorrow on your anniversary. You hadn’t made plans, not with how you had been feeling towards him lately. When he mentioned he had to fly out to Seattle just the day before you were to celebrate four years together, you weren’t even sure if he’d even be here– and now he wasn’t, but with the promise that he would be back in time to celebrate. 

The first year, he had planned a picnic by the beach– it was a chilly early Spring day and the wind was impossible, but it was such a sweet gesture. He was so upset that things hadn’t gone as planned, you remembered how cute he had been, trying to make everything as perfect as he could. The second year, you had both spent a weekend in L.A. where he took you to see your favorite artist perform. And last year, he had sent three bouquets of your favorite flowers to your office and made a reservation for your favorite restaurant. 

Your hopes were already up. 

“You are glowing,” Baela commented with a bright smile as you got to your cubicle. “I take it you had a good weekend. Things with Aegon getting better?”

“We had a really nice weekend together,” you can’t help the smile on your lips. Before you can continue giving your friend the details, you look up to see your boss’ assistant making a beeline for your desk. 

“Ty wants to see you in his office,” she says to you and promptly turns back around. 

You narrow your eyes at her as she walked away and turn your attention to Baela; sharing a knowing look. You hated the way she called him ‘Ty’. You also hated that you accidentally found out they were having an affair; having caught them coming out of the copy room one Thursday morning. You watched as she adjusted her skirt and him replacing his wedding ring– he had to take it off so that he wouldn’t feel guilty. He had made direct eye contact with you across the cubicle walls, and ever since, hadn’t said more than three words to you. 

Tyland Lannister was the type of guy who really relished in being someone’s boss; editor in chief, his name on the door of his private, corner office. The view wasn’t spectacular, but you could tell he was proud of it. He was standing with his back to you, taking in that view as his mistress announced your arrival. She closed the door behind you and you couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. 

“This couldn’t have been an email?” You joked, knowing that was his preferred method of communication. 

“Did you have a good weekend?” He asks without even turning to face you.

“What?” You ask, utterly confused. 

“Got an anonymous tip that the Targaryens had a little family dinner,” he continues and finally turns towards you, pointing to a front-page proof sitting on the table in front of you. Your heart immediately sinks in your chest. “A source close to the family claims that you were there, can you confirm?”

Your brows come together as you take a step towards the proof, eyes scanning the headline: “Daddy’s Favorite: Insider Claims Daughter To Be Named TargCorp Successor”. Your eyes immediately widen as you skim the rest of the article; a scathing detailing of the exact concerns Aegon had finally opened up about this past weekend. 

“You’re running this?” 

“What do you mean?” Tyland asked incredulously, laughing. “Of course we’re running it! This is the first credible thing we’ve heard about Viserys Targaryen in months. If you were, in fact, at this dinner party, we would be the only paper with an eye-witness account of Viserys Targaryen’s status. Can you confirm?”

“No,” you say firmly, shaking your head. “No, I won’t. If you run this, it’s without my input. I refuse to allow you to use my relationship to sell papers.” 

“Think about what you’re doing,” he warns.

“Think about what you’re doing,” you counter. 

Without another word, you turn sharply on your heel and head back to your desk. Your heart was pounding with adrenaline from standing up to your boss. You’ve never had to do that before, but were proud of yourself for standing your ground. Regardless of your defiance, you knew that there was nothing you could do to keep Tyland from publishing; it’d be on the front page, on newsstands everywhere tomorrow morning. 

And you could already see the fingers being pointed in your direction. 

Immediately you reach for your phone when you return to your desk, hastily swiping across the screen to dial Aegon’s number, but the call immediately goes to a full voicemail box. You grunt in frustration, dialing him again with the same outcome. You find his text thread and quickly send him a message: “Call me when you can, it’s important.” 

Baela is asking too many questions, her curiosity piqued by your frantic demeanor, but you’re too preoccupied to answer her. You excuse yourself and dart into the nearest bathroom for solace.

You pace back and forth, the realization hitting you that this story has the potential to destroy your relationship. It was almost too convenient that this news breaks right after Aegon finally opens up to you and introduces you to his family. Desperation drives you to scroll through the other contacts in your phone. Not sure what to do, but knowing you need to tell someone, your thumb hesitates over a familiar name before you press the screen to call. 

Aemond answers on the first ring, his voice is laced with obvious concern– still, you can’t help but feel relieved to hear it. He listens intently as you provide as much information as you can, his silence encouraging you to spill every detail. 

“Aegon’s in Seattle. He’s not answering,” you tell him, continuing to pace back and forth in the dimly lit restroom. Your heels click on the tile floor, echoing through the empty space. “I didn’t know who else to call.” 

“I’ll take care of it,” he affirms, and sounds so sure of himself that you can’t help but to feel at ease. You have no real reason to trust him, but for some reason, you just do.

You thank him with a sigh of relief, and he tells you not to worry about it. As the call ends, you find yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror. Earlier, you had been glowing with the lingering excitement from your weekend with Aegon. Now, your face was void of color and creased with worry. You turn on the tap and splash some water over your face to alleviate the anxiety that had made you so tense, hoping to be able to return to your work without any more cause for concern. 

Baela is waiting at your desk when you return.

She glances up from her phone, her perfect eyebrows arched high with concern. You can feel her gaze following you as you sit down, her curiosity practically burning a hole through you. 

“Well?” She asks, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

“I think someone is actively trying to ruin my life,” you laugh but Baela’s expression remains stern. Your smile immediately falls and you sigh. “Tyland is going to run a story about Aegon’s family, things that weren’t supposed to get out, and I’m worried that it might blow up and hurt him.”

She remains silent as you continue. 

“He finally opened up to me about everything, Bae,” you say as you hold your head in your hands. “He told me everything and now–”

Baela's eyes widened. "You think they're going to blame you for it?"

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I don't want Aegon to think I had anything to do with it. I feel like we’re finally getting back to how things used to be and this could ruin everything."

She reaches out and squeezes your hand. You manage a small smile. 

“He’ll understand,” she assures you. “And if he doesn’t, well, I’ll help you knock some sense into him.” 

“Thanks,” you say, squeezing her hand in return. “I just got off the phone with Aemond. He’s going to try and figure out who this ‘anonymous source’ is.”

Baela raises an eyebrow. “You called Aemond?” 

“Aegon wasn’t answering,” you shrug, downplaying it. “I had no one else to call.”

“Are you sure that you can trust him?” She asks. “You don’t really know him that well.”

You slightly narrow your eyes at her, wondering why she’d even ask. “I have no reason not to trust him.” 

“You’re right,” she nods and turns away from you back to her own desk. After a few moments of silence she turns back to you and adds, “I just want you to be careful.” 

“Noted,” you reply, a hint of irritation laced within your words. 

The rest of your day dragged on agonizingly slowly. Constantly checking your phone for any calls or texts from Aegon or Aemond made each minute feel endless. Everything you worked on seemed meaningless; each word you typed felt like it was just pushing you further and further towards writing classified ads in a dingy, basement cubicle with that guy who was rumored to have been blackmailing women into sending him pictures of their feet. 

By the end of the day, you were more than ready to leave. 

As soon as the clock hit five, you grabbed your things and headed out, barely acknowledging Baela’s concerned glance as you made your way towards the elevator. A dull migraine had been building all afternoon, and you couldn’t wait to get out from underneath the harsh fluorescents of the office. The cool, early evening air was a welcome relief as you stepped out onto the busy streets. The walk to the subway felt longer than usual, each step heavy with the weight of the day’s stress.

The moment you stepped through the door of your apartment, you tossed your bag onto the couch and headed straight for the shower, doing your best to ignore how eerily quiet it was. 

The tension in your shoulders instantly melted away as you stepped into the hot water, allowing the steam to envelop you and wash away the grime of the day, alleviating your migraine and helping you to feel a bit more relaxed. Yet, you still couldn’t help but let your thoughts drift back to the conversation you had with Tyland earlier; his threatening words loud and prominent in your mind, drowning out the sound of the water. You knew there was no point in worrying about the article or the implications it could have on your life. You had done everything you could, but the anxiety still gnawed at you. The anticipation was suffocating, a weight on your chest that refused to lift.

With a frustrated sigh, you shut off the water and stepped out. 

The apartment was still too quiet. 

At this point in the evening, Aegon would usually be upstairs in his office, deep into a business call with his advisors, talking money and spreadsheets and accounts. It was something that, just days ago, you were fed up with, but now, you just missed the sound of his voice. You grabbed your phone from the bathroom counter and figured you’d try him one more time, thinking that it might be late enough and he’d be finished with whatever meetings he had for the day.

The phone rang and rang, and eventually his generic voicemail picked up, “the person you are trying to reach has a voicemail box that is full and cannot accept new messages.” 

Disappointment settled in as the call ended. 

You wrapped yourself in a towel and walked into the bedroom, the silence amplifying your loneliness. As you dressed, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. The uncertainty of the situation with the article, combined with Aegon’s unavailability, left you feeling more isolated than ever. Desperate for a distraction, you decided to make yourself a cup of tea, hoping it would help calm your nerves. As the water boiled, you checked your phone again, praying for a message from Aegon or an update from Aemond. 

The lack of communication was driving you insane. 

A knock on the front door tore through the silence as you sat at your kitchen table; a now lukewarm cup of tea in front of you. Your heart beat quickly as you quietly stepped up to the door and looked through the peephole to see Aemond standing in the hallway. He knocked once more, and you hesitated. It wasn’t until he turned to leave that you finally opened the door. 

“Aemond?” You ask, voice soft and curious. He turned back, his expression serious but softening slightly when he saw you. You leaned against the doorframe, opening the door a little wider. “Did you find out who it was?”

“Not yet,” he said with a shake of his silvery blonde locks. “Really, I just wanted to check on you. You sounded stressed on the phone earlier.” 

You laughed through your nose and motioned for him to come in. 

There was a small smirk on his lips as he stepped inside that seemed almost proud, and suddenly the atmosphere between the two of you shifted slightly as you became acutely aware of the space he took up in your living room as he towered over you. The air he brought in with him smelled of tobacco and mint gum, and new car air freshener. 

“Would you like something to drink?” You asked him, lingering in the threshold of the kitchen. 

“No, thank you,” he says softly. “Have you heard from Aegon?”

You shook your head, “have you?”

“As attached as he is to his phone, he is surprisingly hard to reach,” he says with a lighthearted laugh. 

He meant nothing by the statement, but suddenly you remember what he had told you on the dock– those words that had been floating around in your head rent free since the dinner party– Aegon’s own brother providing you with a warning of the type of person he knew him to be. As you both sat on the couch, the silence grew heavy with unspoken words. Aemond must have noticed the way that your smile had faded, because he reached over and placed his hand on your knee, sending a jolt of awareness throughout your entire body. 

“Hey,” he says softly, squeezing your knee softly. “He’s just busy. This contract is important.”

“You said so yourself that he’s been thoughtless,” you remind him with a frown. 

“In the past,” he says reassuringly. “In fact, that’s actually part of the reason I wanted to see you tonight. It was wrong of me to imply that my brother may be unfaithful to you. He is an idiot, probably the most foolish twat I've ever met, but it's obvious he loves you. You’ve completely changed him.”

You shake your head and stand up, crossing your arms across your chest as you pace the living room. It wasn't what you wanted to hear. Everything wrong with your relationship with Aegon was because he'd changed.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly, moving to get up from the couch. “If you’d like I can go.”

“No, I–” your words are quick, stopping him in place. “You weren't wrong. Aegon and I have our problems, which I’m sure anyone would notice if they paid even a moment of attention.”

“What sort of problems?” He asks after a few moments of silence. You look at him with surprise, not expecting him to want to hear about your broken relationship with his brother. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I don’t know who he is anymore,” you say softly, defeated. “You say that I completely changed him, but that's not at all what I wanted. If you had told me four years ago that the guy I fell in love with would become this empty, corporate machine I would have laughed in your face. And just when I thought that things were finally getting better, someone leaked that story and I’m back at square one.” 

Aemond stands up and places his hands on your shoulders and you instantly feel grounded by his touch; as if his touch alone could solve every one of your grievances. You look up at him, softly biting your lip as your eyes carve out the sharpness of his features. You don't know how to feel with the way he's looking at you; you're both uneasy and aroused.

“I’m going to figure it out,” he says firmly as his thumbs smooth over the fabric of your t-shirt.

“Thank you, Aemond,” your voice is barely above a whisper as the tension of the moment blankets you. 

“I should go,” he adds after a moment of silence and you nod reluctantly. 

As Aemond pulled his hands from your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel an immediate longing for his touch. You knew it was wrong, it was more than wrong to feel this way about your boyfriend's brother.

And yet, all you wanted in that moment was to feel his lips on yours.

“I hope you have a good night,” you say to him as you walk him to the door. "Thanks for the company."

“Anytime," he offers a soft nod as he presses the button to call the elevator. "If you need anything, you know I'll answer."

You smile, hearing the real message in his words.

But as if he needed to make it more clear he adds, "and hey, I know that relationships are complicated, but I also know that you deserve someone who appreciates you and is willing to show it.” 

The words hung between the two of you, heavy with unspoken meaning. You both knew he wasn’t talking about Aegon.

For half a second, you visualize pulling him back into your apartment; pulling him in and feeling his touch once again. There were so many things left unsaid, but the fact that Aemond Targaryen wanted you wasn’t one of them. 

But then the elevator doors opened, bringing you back to reality, and without another word he was gone.

Tag List:

@tssf-imagines, @gothicwidowsworld, @possiblyafangirl, @namelesslosers, @toodlesxcuddles, @hiraethrhapsody, @heavenly1927, @chainsawsangel, @ammo23, @hanula18, @5moremin @wintrr13, @witches-of-discovery-a, @arcielee, @excusemebiatch, @callsignwidow, @moonlightfoxx @dissociationnetwork, @tulips2715, @immyowndefender, @neptuneiris, @kaelabear

There are a couple people on the tag list that it won't let me tag for some reason. So if you had asked in the past and you aren't on here, it's because it's not allowing me to tag you/ find your blog. If you are interested in being tagged, let me know, and if you no longer want to be tagged that is also cool! Just let me know!

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After two days apart, the continuous phone calls and texts have Bradley running up to meet you near Los Angeles for game three. He likes all of it, every minute with you. And then you tell him that his favorite part is your favorite part, too.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, masturbation, oral, and smut (18+)

Length: 7100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

You woke up with Bradley's big arm wrapped around you. His alarm was going off, but he was still asleep. You rolled over so you were facing him, but he just pulled you closer.

"Where you goin'?" he mumbled, eyes still closed. "Stay here, Ace."

Your smile was enormous as you bit your lip. "Bradley," you whispered, kissing his nose. "You have to go to work."

"No." He pulled you impossibly closer as you laughed.

"Your alarm is going off." He muffled your words with his lips on yours, and he rolled you onto your back as he kissed you.

"Don't care," he murmured, pressing kiss after glorious kiss to your lips. But then you laughed, and so did he, because his alarm kept getting louder and louder. "Do not move an inch," he whispered, pinning your hands above your head on the pillow and easing himself away from you. "I'm serious, Ace. I want to pick up right where I'm leaving off."

You giggled as you watched him climb out of bed and walk naked across your hotel room. The early morning light filtering in through the curtains lit up his tan skin. He was beautiful. His skin still looked summer sunkissed, and you tracked him with your eyes as he located his phone on the floor. 

"I told you not to move," he growled, climbing back into bed and crawling toward you, his big hands immediately holding both of yours. 

"I didn't," you whispered with a smile, turning your head to the side as his mustache brushed your ear. Then he eased his body back where it belonged, right on top of yours. What a thought. He was already familiar. You shouldn't feel this comfortable with someone you literally just met. You shouldn't be thinking about the next time you were going to see him. 

"Now where was I?" he muttered, frowning at you like he couldn't remember. "I think I was right about here." His kisses were probably the only thing you needed right now. Each one was more exciting than the last, and you wound your fingers in his pretty hair. He was hard against your thigh now, never shy about his reaction to you. 

You wanted him. There were eighteen condoms left to use. But when he broke the kiss and ran his thumb along your bottom lip, you pouted a little bit. "You need to leave."

He shook his head just slightly. "I need to stay."

"No, no, no, Bradley. You told me to tell you that you had to go to work today. You told me last night to tell you that the planes won't fly themselves, and that you aren't allowed to spend the day with me."

"Never said that," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as his thumb grazed your cheek softly. "I'd never tell someone as pretty as you that I wasn't going to spend the whole day with them."

"Bradley," you whimpered, and he sighed. 

Then he buried his face against your shoulder and kissed you there. "It's just that I want to spend as much time with you as I can. While I can."

He said he would get a ticket to game three just to see you. Just to be with you up near Los Angeles. Your voice was soft as you asked, "You'll really come to game three tomorrow night?" You felt vulnerable. You never felt this way. You had to have the biggest bark and the biggest bite in your line of work, and you were always ready to be on offense or defense. But you didn't feel like you had to try so hard with him. You felt like you could breathe and enjoy yourself.

Bradley's lips were on yours again, and then he said, "I'll buy a ticket on my lunch break today. And when I text you, are you going to respond?"

"Yes," you whispered with a grin. "As long as you go to work like you're supposed to."

"Yes, ma'am," he rasped. "I can't wait to see you tomorrow night. And I can't wait to read your article later today."

You were basking in the warmth of his words, but when his lips started a trail down your chest, you knew you needed to be the responsible one here. "Go. To. Work."

He groaned as he rolled off of you again and stood with his hands on his hips. You propped yourself up and looked up at him as he gestured toward the floor. "Eighteen more condoms. Am I taking them for safe keeping, or should I leave them with you?"

You tapped your lips with your index finger and asked, "Are you going to need them between now and the next time I see you?"

Bradley scoffed and said, "I already told you, Baby, I like you the best. I was only joking about the blue feathers. I'm absolutely not going to try to hook up with the other Ace."

"Go to work!" you said, howling with laughter as you launched the pillows at him one at a time as he tried to get dressed. 

Then he had a big smile on his face as he picked up his Padres jersey and leaned down to give you one more kiss. "Keep this until I see you again. You looked so cute in it, thought you might want to wear it around."

You took it in one hand and wrapped the other around his neck to pull him close. Just one last kiss to hold you until tomorrow night. "Bye, Bradley."

"See ya, Ace." 

He left in his jeans and undershirt, closing the door softly behind him. And then you were alone with his jersey, eighteen condoms, and the aching need to see him again. So you pushed your apprehension aside and decided to keep fooling yourself into thinking this was all a good decision. 

-------------------------------

"You are distracted," Nat said as Bradley slid into the seat next to hers at lunchtime, his phone in his hand. You'd sent him a photo of you sitting at the desk in your hotel room wearing his jersey. 

"Am I?" he asked, examining every inch of the photo before he started typing a response. 

Nat gasped, and he looked up at her. "It's the sports writer! You went to the game!"

"I did," he said slowly, still typing a message. "And I'm planning on going to game three in Anaheim tomorrow night if I can find a ticket. And I'll probably go to each game after that too, because this is the kind of girl I've been dreaming of my entire life. She's cute, funny, smart, loves sports, and she's great in bed. And I just want to spend my whole day with her." He looked up and smirked.

"Doesn't she live in New York?" Nat asked, and Bradley could already feel his face falling. 

"Yeah," he grunted, hitting send on the text message that said, "Let me take you home where you can wear all my clothes, and then I can take them all off of you."

"Be careful," Nat warned before biting into her sandwich. 

"Weren't you the one who told me you could see me with six kids? Like a soccer player and a ballerina?"

Bradley hated the pitiful look she gave him. "I don't want you to get hurt."

That was the whole fucking thing. Bradley knew you could hurt him. It hurt the night after game one when he went home alone and then didn't hear from you in spite of the fact that he had given you his phone number. And it hurt him to think about you in New York where you lived, or in some other random city covering a sporting event. Because his home was in San Diego. And it would be next spring at the earliest before you'd be back to cover more baseball here. 

"I'm not gonna get hurt, Nat. It's just a fling." As soon as he said the words out loud, he wanted to take them back. They were all wrong, and they made him feel dirty. He'd had flings before, and they didn't feel anything like this. He'd been having occasional casual sex with Shannon for probably a year, and she never lingered in his mind after he threw away the condom and watched her leave. 

"Okay, well maybe you should reconsider going up to Anaheim tomorrow night?" Nat pressed. "I know I encouraged you to see her again, but maybe that's actually not the best idea."

"Nat, I know what I'm-" Bradley looked at his phone as another photo came through. In this one, you were lounging on the hotel bed where he'd spent the night with you wrapped up in his arms, still wearing his jersey. But it was open in the front, and your left hand was on your right breast. 

Ace: I kind of miss you. I keep putting off leaving for my exclusive interview with the Angels' bullpen, because my hotel room smells like you.

"Fuck me," Bradley muttered, rubbing his free hand along his face. 

Nat snatched his phone, and he let her have it. "Wow. Wow. Bradley."

"I know," he groaned. 

"She's hot. And that message is beyond flirtatious."

"Yeah," he said, his voice precariously close to a whine. "Nat, I like her. I like how she writes her articles, and how I know her favorite team now. I liked how she felt in my arms all night."

"You slept over?!" 

Bradley didn't reply. He just took his phone back and saved the photos. Then he sent you another text. 

I'd rather you do an exclusive interview with me instead. I think you'd really appreciate what I have to say.

Ace: By all means, tell me what you would say if I interviewed you, Bradley.

I would say you look sexy as fuck in my jersey right now. And that thing never had it so good.

Ace: You're right. An exclusive with you would be much better.

"Now you're just ignoring me," Nat said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I'm going to sit with Bob."

Truly, Bradley hadn't heard a word she said. He also hadn't eaten any of his lunch. He had to inhale his sandwich while he walked back to the classroom for the afternoon, because yes, he was distracted. 

-------------------------------

Your boss was really riding you today. Apparently your submissions at 11:58pm after the first two games really had Greg Pfeffer rattled, because that was the first thing he said when you talked to him. The second thing he said was that he needed you in Boston as soon as you wrapped up in California. Apparently there was nobody else on staff he trusted to handle the Bruins head coach as well as you could. 

You knew what your strengths were. You were smart, crafty and organized. But you were also a woman. And sometimes the men you interviewed responded to you differently than they would another man. In a good way. You always seemed to be able to get more information out of players or coaches than anyone else. Just yesterday afternoon you managed to get two of the relief pitchers from the Angels' bullpen to admit they weren't quite sure how to throw to the Padres shortstop.

And then one of them asked you out to dinner. 

Never in a million years would you agree to that. You loved your job too much. And that was immediate grounds for getting fired right there. Honestly, there was no way he really thought you'd agree, right? Also, there was the fact that you'd decided it was better to eat some mediocre takeout back in your hotel room while you texted Bradley. 

But now it was Tuesday morning. Game three was happening tonight. And those texts while you ate dinner had turned into a phone call with Bradley. The two of you ended up talking for two hours before you could hear him trying not to yawn. He had been so sweet, you had to threaten to hang up on him. 

But you could still hear the last thing he said to you. "I should have driven up to see you tonight after work. Even just for an hour. Can't wait for tomorrow, Ace."

And what were you supposed to do now? You had hours to kill before you had to be at Angels Stadium. You were still wearing nothing but Bradley's jersey while you laid in your bed in the hotel across the street from the stadium just outside Los Angeles. You buried your nose in the fabric; it still smelled like him. He smelled so good. There was no way you could wait a few hours for him when just the feel of his Padres jersey brushing your nipples was making you squirm with need. 

You let one hand slide down the curve of your belly, and when you closed your eyes, it was easy to pretend like he was the one touching you. Because his body had been as sure as your own, like he already knew what to do with you. Inch by inch, your fingers moved closer to their goal, and when you started rubbing your clit in slow circles, you thought about Bradley's voice. About the deep, raspy register and the way he called you Ace.

When you touched your breasts with your other hand, you realized your hips were already up off the bed, thrusting slowly as your fingers worked your clit. Images of Bradley's handsome face and flushed cheeks flashed through your mind. The eager look in his eyes when he touched you. The feel of his arms wrapped around you while he slept. The way his breath felt on your neck all night long. The morning rasp of his voice as he seemed to instinctively know he was with you in the still dark hotel room before he had opened his eyes. 

"Oh, god!" you whined as you ran your nose along the collar of his jersey, inhaling his scent in short gasps as you clenched, imagining his heavy cock inside you. The swirl of your fingers became erratic as your hips thrust two more times, and you were coming hard for Bradley. 

When your body collapsed back onto the bed, you were almost startled to open your eyes and realize you were alone. Your loud breathing and soft whimpers were filling the room, but you were too deliciously sated to feel embarrassed about what you'd done. You should probably be getting a shower so you had time to pre-write some of your article about game three. You had emails from Greg about your successful interview article with the Angels' bullpen to respond to. But instead you reached for your phone and texted Bradley.

---------------------------

Ace: How early can you get up here today?

It sounded to Bradley like you still missed him even though he hadn't seen you since very early yesterday morning. He read your exclusive interview five times today already, and he was wondering if you'd indulge him and read parts of it out loud later tonight. And then he groaned as he turned on a shower in the locker room. He'd probably barely make it to the game for the seven o'clock start time, and tomorrow was a work day. 

Tomorrow was also game four. Bradley was the world's worst Padres fan at the moment, praying that the Angels would tie up the series and take this whole thing to seven games. Because he didn't even want to think about what his life was going to look like when the World Series was over and he was no longer running himself between two cities to see you. 

He made the shower a short one, dressing in some snug jeans and a clean Padres shirt before running out to his Bronco. 

I'm leaving work now, Baby. See you at the stadium?

You'd given him the address of the hotel you always stayed at along with your room number just in case he finished work early. You had also managed to procure a ticket in the nosebleeds for him to get inside the ballpark; he just had to give his name at Gate E. But he was going to have to turn around and drive the nearly two hours back to San Diego either late tonight or well before dawn tomorrow. He just hoped you'd want to see him again tomorrow night, because he would do it all again. 

There was traffic. "Fuck," he groaned, actually pulling up onto a curb to go around someone. He ended up fighting through gridlock the whole way up Angels Stadium, cutting back and forth between the highway and backroads. He paid forty dollars to park in the preferred lot next to Gate E, and then he sprinted up to the entrance along with other fans who were hoping to make it to their seats before the first pitch. 

Bradley gave your name and then his own at the window, and he was immediately admitted inside. "Can you tell me where the entrance to the press box is located?" he asked. The security guard gave him a long stare.

"Do you have credentials?"

"Nevermind," Bradley muttered, taking the ticket that was being handed to him and pulling out his phone. His heart was pounding as he listened to someone singing the national anthem while he fumbled trying to make a call. He placed his right hand over his heart, not wanting to be a complete prick as he picked a direction to rush off in as he called your phone. 

"Hi," you said very softly when you answered. He loved your voice. Memories of the late night phone call filled with your soft giggles washed over him. 

"Baby, how do I get to the press box?"

"Unmarked green door near section 133. I'll meet you there."

Bradley hung up and ran around the first base side of the concourse, narrowly dodging some teenage girls and a beer vendor as the singer wrapped up their rendition of the song. And then he saw the green door as it opened, and your eyes met his. 

"Shit," he gasped, feeling his feet slow before speeding up again. You looked perfect, and your beautiful smile was just for him as you let the door close behind you and came running. 

And then you were in his arms with your hands at the back of his neck and your lips pressed to his ear. "Hi," you whispered as you kissed along the side of his face just as the fireworks signalling the start of the game were launched, and the entire stadium was cheering. 

Bradley carried you to the door as you laughed softly. "I liked your exclusive article," he told you. "Read it five times today." That earned him a kiss on the lips, and then he watched you pull your lanyard out of your back pocket to unlock the green door. 

"I think you're my biggest fan," you replied as he carried you inside and set you down. 

"I absolutely am, Ace." Then you were pushing his back against the wall, your lips ghosting over his in the relative private of the vestibule that opened up into the press area buzzing with people. 

"I need you to be very well behaved tonight," you scolded with a little grin that made Bradley lean down and kiss you hard. 

"I will," he promised, loving the needy little sound you made.

You ran your fingers along his neck as you said, "I have an assigned seat in here. And my boss has been on my ass all day. No spilling any beers on me, I don't care how badly you want to lick it off later."

"One time and I have a reputation..."  

You bit your lip and looked up at him over your shoulder as you turned toward the other reporters. The game was about to begin as you pointed to some folding chairs, and he grabbed one on his way past. Then he wedged it in front of the countertop where your computer was sitting, between your chair and the wall. He sat down and then you settled in next to him, right there in his personal space. 

Bradley was smiling at you, and you were smiling right back. "Stop distracting me," you told him, barely turning in time to watch the Angels' pitcher throw the first strike of the game. "You're very distracting."

He draped his arm around your back as you started filling out the pitches on your stat sheet and typing away at the same time. "Thanks for securing that ticket for me. Wouldn't want to miss the chance to see you."

"It was god awful expensive. Even for the worst section in the stadium," you replied without looking at him.

Bradley's jaw dropped. "You paid for it? I thought maybe you got it comped or something. I could have found one online myself."

You just shrugged as the Angels left the field only to be replaced by the Padres for the bottom of the inning. "I got it for half the price you would have been able to."

Bradley knew that was still at least five hundred dollars. "I'll pay you back."

"No," you said softly as you looked down at your keyboard almost like you were embarrassed. Then you shrugged again, a little more aggressively this time. "It's okay."

But Bradley cupped your chin and gently guided your face so you were looking at him, your eyes unsure and hesitant. "I'd have had no problem paying full price. I just wanted to see you."

He ran his thumb along your bottom lip as you asked, "Is that really why you're here though?"

Bradley's brow scrunched in confusion as he examined your face. He knew the game was going on, but you weren't fighting him about missing a pitch or two. "Why else would I battle through traffic for two hours?"

You swallowed hard and whispered, "Because you wanted to fuck me again."

Bradley's stomach dropped. That was so far from the truth. "No, Ace. I wanted to spend a little time with you." You were silent now, but you weren't looking away as he added, "Sleeping with you is incredible, sure. But that's not why I'm here. I don't have to drive four hours round trip to get laid. I have six pack abs. But in order to see you tonight, it required driving up from San Diego. And when I tell you that I don't care if you invite me back to your hotel room tonight or not, I mean it."

Then you were kissing him and tugging him closer to you by the front of his shirt. And the Angels must have scored, because the rest of the stadium erupted in near deafening cheers. But you still didn't care to look away and find out exactly what was going on. You just kept kissing him, and your hand skimmed up his thigh, and Bradley had to pull away. 

"Ace, if you keep doing that, you'll make me look like a liar," he gasped as the cheering finally started to lessen. 

You chased his lips with yours and asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed you one more time and then leaned back in his seat, glancing down at the fly of his jeans where he was plainly a little hard for you. His voice was a little tight as he adjusted himself. "Truly, sleeping with you is not my priority tonight, but you turn me on."

Your hand was still resting on his thigh as you turned toward your computer and typed one handed. "How embarrassing... logging in to SportsCenter to watch a replay while I'm sitting right here in Anaheim." But you were smiling, and Bradley let his hand come to rest on top of yours while he caught his breath. It took you a minute to get your score sheet updated correctly, and then you were focusing on the players once more. But your hand still brushed his leg, and your fingers occasionally laced with his as you watched the game. 

Occasionally you murmured something about a stolen base or an earned run average, but Bradley was barely watching anything except you. All he knew was he hoped the Angels won. All he wanted was to stay with you as long as possible. 

When you kissed him sweetly during the seventh inning stretch, one of the other writers turned and said, "You brought your boyfriend again, New York?"

"No, Jack. He's actually my intern," you replied smoothly. The older man just looked between you and Bradley and then turned around.

"Intern?" Bradley mumbled. "Damn. I got demoted. Someone called me your boyfriend the other night." You started laughing as Bradley said, "What's next? Your dog walker?"

"I don't have a dog," you told him, smiling at him brightly and squeezing his thigh.

He laughed, too. "You want me to be your personal food fetcher?"

"Now that is something I could actually use."

Bradley was on his feet immediately, filling a plate from the catering stations and grabbing a bottle of water. 

-----------------------------

Nothing felt as rushed tonight. Sure, you kept pulling Bradley in for kisses in the parking lot on the way to his retro Ford Bronco, but you didn't feel the need to immediately drag him back to your room. Not when he looked so gorgeous in the moonlight. Not when you felt golden inside since the Angels had managed to pull out a win. There would be at least five games. You were hoping you had at least two more chances to see him.

You shivered as he opened the door for you. "Bradley," you said with a laugh. "I told you my hotel is just on the other side of the parking lot. It's the hotel I always stay in."

"I'll drive you over," he whispered, kissing your cheek as he helped you in. Then you gave him an appraising look as he closed the door and jogged around to the other side. Was he really not planning on joining you in your room? The idea sent a jolt of sadness through you. But tomorrow was Wednesday, a work day for him.

"Bradley?" you asked softly as he pulled out of the spot. You could already see your hotel from the end of the aisle, and he turned to smile at you. 

"Yeah, Baby?"

You closed your eyes and whispered, "Do you have to leave right away? I want you to come up."

He didn't answer immediately. He pulled up to the entrance and put the Bronco in park and ran his fingers through his hair. "I wish I could say no to you. Just to prove my point."

When you leaned across the console and said, "I don't want you to say no to me right now," he shifted back into drive. You giggled as he pulled forward a little quickly and whipped into an empty parking space. 

And then you were walking backwards through the lobby, coaxing Bradley along as he said, "I shouldn't be coming up with you. I have work in the morning. And I told you I'm just here for your company." But he was smiling, and he was the one to push the button to call the elevator. 

Then it arrived, and the two of you were the only ones inside when the door closed. You tucked yourself against his chest when he opened his arms to you. "Just come up for a little bit?"

"A little bit," he confirmed, kissing the top of your head. "While you write your piece?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, kissing his neck. "Or you could stay for a while."

His arms were warm and so solid around you, and you heard him murmur, "I could stay for a while."

You pulled him down the hallway, laughing at the dopey grin on his face. "You could stay longer. We're only going to get a handful of these nights together. And I like it when my hotel room smells like you the next day."

He snatched the key card from your hand and unlocked the door, ushering you inside with his lips on yours. He tossed the key somewhere on the floor as the door closed behind him, and you dropped your computer bag with a soft thud. 

"This is a nice room," he whispered against your lips as he untucked your blouse and got one big hand on your lower back. 

"You didn't even see it yet," you gasped as he started sucking on your neck.

"I'll look at it later."

And then you were under him on your bed, both of you fully clothed except for your shoes. Bradley was running his lips and his mustache along your neck at such a leisurely pace, you were afraid you might actually melt. 

"Is that my jersey?" he asked, his gaze moving to the pillow next to your head. 

"Yeah," you whined as his tongue met the sensitive spot behind your ear. "I wore it last night and this morning."

Bradley groaned, and then you felt his hands at your waist and your hips. "I'm a weak man. A very weak man when it comes to you, Ace." And then his groan just got louder as you reached down for his hands and guided them slowly to the button of your jeans. He made quick work of it and the zipper, easing his fingers inside the waistband of your underwear. "Baby, you have an article to finish." 

He kissed along below your belly button, and you whimpered as you said, "I'll finish it in time. I promise." And then he was yanking your pants down and pressing his lips to your bare thighs as he worked your jeans and underwear all the way down your legs and off. He settled in with his face buried in your pussy, just like last time. Just like the first time. You'd never been with a man so willing and eager to do this.

"You're fucking soaked," he moaned, lapping up along your slit before separating you with his nose and kissing around your opening. 

"Bradley!" you whined, because he was already so invested. So you let him go for a few minutes, and it felt good. So good, you were almost convinced he could get you off this way if he took enough time to do it. But after a few more minutes, you tugged gently on his hair. When he met your eyes with his lips on your clit, he looked annoyed. 

He released you, much to your immediate displeasure, and asked, "Why won't you let me get you off like this? You stopped me the other night, too."

You pressed your lips together and looked at the ceiling before you answered. "It'll take forever."

Bradley sighed, and a second later, a jolt of pleasure rushed through you. When you looked down your body at him, he was swirling one long finger around your clit. "I'm in no rush. Other than you needing to submit your article in an hour and a half, we've got time."

"You must like a challenge."

Bradley raised one eyebrow at you, but his finger never stopped that slow, delicious swirl that had you bending one leg and running your foot along his side. He kissed the inside of your knee before he looked at you and said, "This is not a challenge. This is a privilege, Baby. You just tell me what feels good, and I'll get you there."

You couldn't be sure if it was his words or the way he was touching you, but when your pussy clenched gently around nothing, you were whimpering his name and agreeing. And then his mouth was trailing the softest kisses along your folds. You could tell you were dripping wet by the way his tongue glided so smoothly along. And then Bradley reached around your hips and tilted your body up at a slightly different angle that had his nose bumping your clit while he ate you.

He kept changing things up. A soft roll of his tongue would turn into a nibble. And then the nibbles would turn into suction with just the most beautiful amount of pressure. But his mustache was just fucking special, the way it felt rough and yet so fucking necessary. 

"Fuck," you whined softly. He was so good. But you'd felt this slow build before, and inevitably your partners ended up getting tired or annoyed by how long it took you. Bradley's movements were sure and steady, however. And now he was plucking at your clit with his lips, and your thighs tightened around his head.

"Good?" he asked, breathing a little heavy. 

"Yes! Don't stop!" you praised, your hips rocking with each little grab and release of his lips. He squeezed your hips as if he was letting you know he would get you off like he promised, and then he swirled his tongue slowly around your clit before licking a long stripe down with the tip of his tongue. 

"Do that again," you demanded, your voice barely a gasp. And once again he treated you to that swirl of his tongue. "Fuck." And the long stripe downward. "Oh."

"Again?" he asked, his voice raspy and amused.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and tugged as you said, "Don't you dare stop, Bradley." But he was already back at it with that perfect tempo and his prickly mustache. This time, when he licked down, he kissed his way back up, and you made the most desperate sound. "Again."

"I got you, Ace."

His tongue. His voice. His hands. His hair. His ridiculous nickname for you. "Oh god damn!" you whined, your voice breaking as you keened. The words and sounds were burning at the back of your throat before they could be released in a way that made any sense at all. And you rolled your hips slowly against his mouth as he cupped your body. You were close. So close. So-

"Yes!" you nearly screamed as tears stung at your eyes. Bradley grunted as you pulled his hair but he didn't stop. You were practically riding his face with one leg thrown over his shoulder when you felt yourself gush. His face was still buried in your pussy, but when he finally looked up at you, he was panting. 

"Ace," he groaned, his face all wet from you. He was licking his lips like you were the most incredible thing he'd ever tasted in his life, and even though you were still enjoying some little aftershocks, you needed more.

"I want you to fuck me," you said softly, and then his wet lips and chin were on yours. And you did taste pretty incredible as he bucked his fully clothed body against your core. 

"I won't last," he grunted. "Not after that. God, you're perfect."

Your body felt flushed all over from his compliment. "I don't care. I just want to feel you."

"You need to finish your article," he said, but he was already sitting back on his knees between your legs and unzipping his pants. He winced as he pulled himself free, his tip an angry, swollen red.

"Oh," you gasped, already clenching again at the sight of him. You scampered out of bed and nearly tripped on your way to your suitcase. "Eighteen condoms," you muttered, digging around until you found one of the double packs. 

A few seconds later, you were rolling one of them down his length. He'd barely gotten his pants pulled down to his thighs by the time you were bending over the bed for him. And then he was filling you up, and his arms kind of caged you in. And his mustache was rubbing your neck. And your actual first name was on his lips. And you were thinking about things you knew you shouldn't. You were thinking about how much it was going to hurt when you left for the east coast.

------------------------------

Bradley would have been embarrassed that he only lasted two minutes, but you didn't seem to mind. "I'll be better for round two. You just really wound me up."

You bit your lip and smiled at him as he removed the condom. "Going down on me made you hot?"

He looked up at you like you had two heads. "Yeah. Hell yeah. I'd spend the whole night doing that if you'd let me."

You looked ridiculously pleased with yourself as you grabbed his Padres jersey off the bed and slipped it on. "Maybe tomorrow night," you said playfully as you walked toward the desk and grabbed your bag on the way. "You coming?"

Once again, Bradley had you perched on his lap while you finished your article. You were cutting it very close tonight, and he was helping you proofread as you wrote. "You misspelled umpire," he whispered, pointing to your computer screen.

"Thanks," you replied softly, correcting your error. 

He didn't want to distract you at all, but he wasn't sure how long you wanted him to stay. It was three minutes until midnight. He was at least an hour and a half away from home. He needed to be at work in eight hours. But the way you were acting like he belonged with you was keeping his mouth shut.

You submitted your article at exactly midnight and then you turned to face him. "Are you ready for round two?" you whispered, grinning. "Round one with you was already way better than when I got off earlier today."

Bradley froze with you in his arms. "What the hell happened earlier today?" he asked, hating that he immediately felt a little jealous. 

But you leaned in and kissed him softly, your lips brushing his as you said, "I thought about you while I got myself off."

"Fuuuck," he groaned, wrapping you tighter in his arms. "That's hot, Ace."

Bradley was still hanging out of his jeans, and his cock was rubbing your thigh as he got hard for you. You were running your fingers through his hair as you rubbed your pussy along his length. Then you reached behind you on the counter and held up another condom, and when Bradley nodded, you opened it. And then he was inside you again. 

You went slow, with breathless fluttering kisses along his face. He tucked his hands inside the jersey, wanting to feel as much of your smooth skin as he could. "At least two more games," you whispered. "I have the Angels to thank for winning tonight."

Bradley laughed softly, bringing his hands up to your breasts but keeping his eyes on yours. "Let's keep this thing going."

"Mmhmm," you moaned. And then you kissed him like you and he had been doing this for years already. As if you knew what he needed. And maybe you did, because he was starting to think he needed you. 

"Ace, Baby." You were coming for him, absolutely coming undone in his arms as you moved your body. He wanted to tell you to make it last all night, but it was too good. And he was right there, too.

As you pushed his hair back from his forehead and let your cheek find his shoulder, your phone rang. Bradley jumped a bit, but you didn't seem concerned. 

"It's probably just Greg. My boss," you said with a kiss to his cheek. 

"Okay," Bradley grunted as you stood and left him to dispose of the condom. 

"Greg," you said calmly when you answered the phone. And then Bradley heard someone yelling at you. He was on his feet, brow scrunched in concern. This guy was loud, and you didn't even have him on speaker phone. And he wasn't letting you get a word in. You just hummed in agreement as you paced around the room, but when Bradley caught your eye, you headed back over. 

"It's okay," you told him with your hand over the speaker of your phone. "He doesn't like my nearly late submissions," you said with an eye roll and then a smile. Then you gently pushed Bradley down into the chair again before pacing away. And he was suddenly inadvertently privy to your email inbox.

At the top was your article submission receipt which you were currently telling your boss was time stamped for midnight, and that you didn't actually need him to call you from home in New York where it was three in the morning. Then Bradley's eyes fell to no fewer than six emails that had all been sent from different media outlets this evening. 

g.rutherford@msnsports.com   Opportunities With MSN Sports

tasha.park@majorleaguesports.net   Sports Writer Positions Open Now

jmv12@cbssports.com   Looking For a New Opportunity?

a.archer@velocityreport.com   We Have the Perfect Position For You

peter.stephens@barstoolsports.com   We Need You -  Join Out Team!

jheath@philainquire.com   Join the Sports Team With Highest Salaried Positions

"Damn, Ace," Bradley muttered, eyes scanning everything he could see without scrolling down further. But something told him there would be more of the same if he did. Everyone wanted you. 

"Sorry," you muttered, having ended your call without Bradley even noticing. And now you looked a little apprehensive.

"Your boss was yelling at you," he remarked as he stood.

"Oh," you said with a little shrug. "He's always like that. Ranting and raving is how he operates."

Bradley glanced back at your computer screen briefly. "Well I wish he wasn't shouting at you. Your articles are always the best."

You clearly wanted to say something, but you planted your hands on your hips and tapped your foot on the floor. "Bradley... I know it's late, and you have to get back home for work and everything... Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

He didn't have to think about it. "Yes."

And then your expression melted into a smile as you climbed into bed, still wearing his jersey. Bradley watched you pat the spot next to you, and he zipped up his jeans and climbed in as well. 

As you yanked the covers up over both of you, Bradley pulled you close so your back was pressed to his front. "Will you come back tomorrow night? If I can get you a ticket?" you asked him so softly, he held his breath to make sure that was all you had to say.

As long as you were in southern California, he would come to you. "I'll be back up no matter what, Ace." And after you kissed his hands and laced your fingers with his, he added, "I can't believe you thought this right here wasn't my favorite part about being with you."

Your breathing was evening out, and Bradley thought perhaps you were already asleep. But then you said, "This is my favorite part, too."

-------------------------

She asked him to stay until she fell asleep. Oh, Ace. He's a mess already. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@bradshawsbitch

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@sylviebell

@wkndwlff

@horseslovers2016

[pr0cyon-lotor]

Au where it was all a ✨dream✨

A collective dream specifically, sorta....

Okay, we're dropped in a scene Shen Yuan is dying. He sacrificed himself to save Binghe from idk a demon attack or something. But he's Shen Qingqiu's husband because there was a previous courtship full of drama, misunderstandings, and eventually love.

So he's being held by Shen Jiu, and as Shen Yuan finally drops. The system pulls up for everyone saying something about how they had completed an exercise, before anyone can even blink all plot relevant characters just drop to the floor.

Anyway PIDW isn't important anymore, let's go to the modern world.

Shen Jiu wakes up in a hospital bed, his memories rushing back. He's... A historian— no, a modern day scholar?... he's renowned for his research papers... Ugh, the voices.

Shen Jiu is told he was in a plane crash that had hospitalized most of its passengers, which is better than the alternative. He asks if there's a Shen Yuan in the hospital, the nurse hesitates and asks why. Shen Jiu got that Shen Yuan is in the hospital but is probably either in bad condition or his family isn't allowed the staff to talk about him.

Shen Jiu says that they're married. The nurse hesitates and then says he is and he's doing worse than before and is in critical condition. Shen Jiu is left to stew over the information.

He is forced to go into physical therapy and all that stuff. He meets the other passengers and can clock each of them. From his Qi-ge to Mobei Jun. It was strange, to see them like normal people when he has a memory of them being greater than that.

They all talk and Shen Jiu takes note of their professions and connections. Once he recovers, he tries to visit Shen Yuan and is told he needs a proof of marriage.

And Shen Jiu being the spiteful and conniving motherfucker he is uses his recently made connections to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss some legalized falsified documents of his and Shen Yuan's marriage, which was a year before the plane crash and their anniversary landed on the day of the crash. How unfortunate truly :,( (he totally didn't pick that day because that was the day they met so in his brain that was they day that led them to be together or anything)

So he shows the documents and then visits Shen Yuan each time he can. He does try to avoid his family and got good at remembering their schedules of visits. He always keeps his hand over Shen Yuan's chest, just so he can feel his heart beat so he knows he's still alive aside from the mechanical beep of the heart monitor.

The day Shen Yuan wakes up, it was during one of Shen Jiu's visits. He wakes up with Shen Jiu . He's still half delirious and still mixing things from his coma "dream" and real life. So he says:

"My husband will get upset if he sees you touching me like that on my chest."

Shen Jiu is amused and puts Shen Yuan's glasses on his face softly and says that he is his husband. Shen Yuan stares at his demure beauty of a husband, mouth agape. The heart monitor picks up and he just says "sup" which confirms to Shen Jiu that he is still the nerdy man he fell in love with.

Shen Jiu tells him they've been married two year by now and kisses his forehead. A nurse bursts in to make sure no one is like y'know dying and sees that Shen Yuan is up. She is shocked because for all intents and purposes he shouldn't have woken up yet. She shoos Shen Jiu away and tells him to wait outside.

The Shens are notified and they finally meet Shen Jiu. He manages to gaslight and charm his parents and siblings. He convinces them that Shen Yuan totally mentioned him and they were totally going to meet if not for the plane crashing. (Shen Jiu remembered when Shen Yuan and him were talking in the plane that he mentioned that he was visiting family. Shen Jiu was flying to speak in a convention or something but they don't need to know that.)

Once Shen Yuan fully awake, his family start worrying over him and then ask why he didn't tell them he was married. Shen Yuan, who did realize his husband was lying is going along with it, said he was going to but things (the plane crash) got in the way.

Anyway new Shen in the family. He probably likes Shen Yuan's little sister and mom.

[halfmoth-halfman]

a smaller part of my thoughts on the mw3 campaign that i think is important enough to need its own post:

(there are spoilers below)

i've seen many cod creators on here talking about the situation going on in the middle east right now, and a lot of posts condemning the ethnic cleansing and genocide happening in palestine. i think it's great, especially coming from a fandom based on games that are first and foremost military propaganda. what i don't think is great is that soap's death seems to be taking priority over the blatant terrorist storyline that happens with samara and the changing of the no russian mission.

a middle eastern woman - the second one to get a shocking, and brutal death (more brutal than soap's, might i add) - is taken hostage by a group and forcibly made to hijack a plane. she is forced to wear a bomb strapped to her chest and dragged to the back of the plane where more civilians are. when she tries to fight back we get this exchange:

hijacker: are you a terrorist?

samara: no!

hijacker: you look like one.

she is then handed a gun, shoved into a crowd, and we are forced to watch her struggle to get a phone against a crowd of people who think she is a terrorist before the plane blows up.

i see a lot of people in the fandom saying to reject canon as a way to cope, which i fully understand - canon is really really stupid sometimes. however, i'm also seeing a lot of people saying to pretend this campaign just doesn't exist, and i take a lot of issue with that.

this fandom, in particular, does not get to do that. you can be upset with soap's death, the thrown together storyline, the half-baked combat, whatever else you don't like about the game, but we do not get to ignore the purposeful mistreatment of a middle eastern character while also being vocal about palestine. we do not get to ignore that activision chose to change this mission from makarov shooting up an airport, to forcing a middle eastern character to blow up a plane while he escapes. we do not get to ignore that the cod games are military propaganda, and that just because we may enjoy playing or watching these games, that doesn't mean we shouldn't be looking at these games, their storylines, and their characters critically.

i need people to understand that it is an immense privilege to be able to turn them off and "ignore the campaign" while casually reblogging the occasional post about palestine. you are allowed to enjoy these games, and you are allowed to be angry and hurt over soap's death. these games are allowed to be a form of escapism for you, but i am begging you all to think more critically about the choices activision is making here, and understand that escapism doesn't mean you can disregard and ignore those choices.

and i think a lot of people, those who post about palestine in particular, should think about why this fandom is placing more importance on a white character's death than the blatant and egregious islamophobia and military propaganda.

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: jamal is y/n’s brother's best friend and they hate each other, but they are forced to share a hotel room on a vocation and they constantly fight and tease each other, but in the end they start to like the other one<3<3 make it as long as you can thank youuu💖💖 (anonymous)

Word Count: 1.4k words

(author's note: bit of a longer one, hope you all enjoy 🫶)

It was a well-known fact that Y/N L/N and Jamal Musiala hated each other. Forced to be in close proximity their whole lives due to Jamal and her brother’s friendship didn’t help ease Y/N’s hatred for the older boy either.

Something happened along the line that ended the old friendship the pair used to have. Nobody knew what happened, all they knew was that Jamal and Y/N were not on good terms.

The L/N’s had arranged a family holiday and Y/N couldn’t have been more excited. However, her excitement dimmed considerably when she found out her parents had allowed her brother to invite Jamal.

“I just don’t understand why he has to come. It’s a family holiday, not an invite whoever you want holiday.”

YB/N sighed, “You’re so dramatic, Jamal hasn’t even done anything wrong. I don’t see why you think he shouldn't come.”

“Of course, you’d say that.” She replied, rolling her eyes at her brother.

The days before the holiday soon passed and before Y/N knew it, Jamal was standing on their doorstep with his suitcase and a backpack on his back.

“Suppose you better come in then,” Y/N mumbled, opening the door wider and stepping to the side to let him in.

“Thanks,” Jamal replied curtly, avoiding any extra interaction with the girl standing in front of him.

Jamal regretted many things in life, one of those being how he ended his friendship with Y/N. Having known the girl all his life, he should’ve known that sooner or later, his feelings for Y/N would become harder and harder to hide. Jamal had never seen someone more beautiful, kind, sweet, and funny than Y/N, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

He blew up on her and ended their friendship coldly. As he walked away from her in that moment and heard her sobs, he could only imagine the pained look on her face and the tear streaks that adorned her cheeks.

To this day, Jamal regretted it. He wished he could take it all back and just tell Y/N how he felt. Now, when he dragged his suitcase through the front door of her family home and she wouldn’t even look at him, he felt more regret than ever.

“Jamal, how are you, man?” YB/N said, coming down the stairs.

“Not bad mate, how are you?”

“I’m alright, leave your case down there, my dad will sort it.”

Jamal pushed his suitcase against the wall and followed YB/N up the stairs. Y/N’s eyes followed him as he walked away. She wouldn’t admit it, but part of her missed how close she and Jamal used to be.

She missed how he would care for her, drive her places, and wander around any shop she wanted to go to just to see her smile. Y/N also wouldn’t admit she was secretly excited for Jamal to join them on holiday.

The airport process went by fairly quickly, and before Y/N knew it, she was sat on the plane, staring out of the window. She was so zoned out that she didn’t hear someone sit next to her. She also failed to realise that the person was none other than Jamal Musiala.

“Oh, it's you.”

“Brilliant observation,” Jamal replied dryly.

“Okay, no need to be so rude,” Y/N replied.

The pair ignored each other for the remainder of the flight, an awkward silence lingering in the air.

The flight was long and uncomfortable, and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief when she finally stepped off. The family headed through security, collected their suitcases, and were then picked up by their taxi to the hotel.

The hotel was by the beach with grand columns and marble floors. As she walked in through the revolving doors, Y/N’s eyes widened at the sheer grandeur of the interior. She could feel Jamal’s presence behind her as well as hear him and her brother whispering together.

Y/N was pulled away from her admiring when her mother called her name, “Y/N, my darling, come here please.”

Y/N moved over to where her parents stood, noticing that they both exchanged a look.

“Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“Well, and we know you won’t like this, but you and Jamal will have to share a room.”

“What? Why? That’s not fair! Why can’t YB/N share with him?”

“Because they can’t be trusted when they’re sharing a room. YB/N has agreed to sleep in our room, so you’ll have to share with Jamal.”

Y/N nodded and sighed, “Fine.”

Once they had all received their room keys, Y/N moved over to the lift, followed by Jamal and her family. All squeezed into the confined space of the lift, Y/N realised that she wasn’t too repulsed at the idea of sharing a room with Jamal.

The group exited the lift and made their way down the long corridors. Pulling the key out of his pocket, Jamal unlocked the door to his and Y/N's hotel room.

He pushed open the door and pulled his suitcase in. Y/N followed behind him, closing the door behind her.

“Can I have the bed next to the window?” She asked quietly.

“Yeah, whatever you want,” Jamal responded.

She walked over to the bed, placed her backpack on top of it, and hoisted her suitcase up as well.

Unzipping it, she grabbed some coathangers and started to hang her clothes up and put her shoes in the bottom of the wardrobe.

“Would you like me to hang your things up as well?”

“You don't have to, I'm not incapable.”

“That's not- I meant- I was just trying to be nice!” Y/N stuttered out, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

Jamal rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

Grabbing her makeup bag, Y/N went into the bathroom, eager to avoid any further confrontation with Jamal.

Her ideas of making amends with Jamal and forgiving him for what he did all those years ago were slowly fading from her mind. She had never felt more stupid in her life.

Jamal felt like a complete and utter idiot. He didn't know what was wrong with him. The whole reason he had accepted YB/N's invite to the holiday was to make amends with Y/N and finally tell her how he felt.

Now, he'd only made things worse.

Mustering up all the courage he possibly could, he dragged himself over to the bathroom and knocked softly on the door.

“Y/N?”

“What do you want, Jamal?” She replied coldly, not interested in talking to him.

“Can we talk?”

Y/N was caught off guard. The quiet tone of his voice sounded almost apologetic, something she had never heard from Jamal before.

She unlocked the door and stepped out of the bathroom.

“Sure, we can talk.”

The pair moved over to the small sofa in the corner of their room. Y/N sat down, looking at her hands, avoiding Jamal’s gaze.

“I don't really know what to say apart from, I'm so sorry. For everything. Ever since I ended our friendship, I've regretted it more than anything. All these years where I've been so mean and disrespectful, it was to cover up how I really felt.”

Y/N's head snapped up, “Jamal-”

“No, let me finish. Please. I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember. And instead of just telling you, I pushed you away. It wasn't right, and I know it. I'm just so sorry for all the pain I caused.”

Y/N sat in silence. She didn't know what to say.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

Y/N looked Jamal dead in the eyes, leaned in and kissed him.

Jamal was taken aback at first but quickly moved his hand to rest on Y/N's waist.

Their lips moved in sync, all those years of mutual pining poured into one kiss.

“You have no idea how long I've waited to do that. I love you too, you big idiot.”

Jamal laughed, “I really made things difficult didn't I?”

“Yeah, definitely. Next time you have some huge feelings, just tell me. Instead of cutting me off for years. It's much easier,” Y/N replied, laughing back at him.

Jamal moved closer to Y/N on the sofa and wrapped his arm around her. They sat in silence for a while before Jamal spoke up again,

“Is it too late to take you up on your offer of hanging my clothes up?”

[skrrts]

in my eyes, you are perfect (one-shot) mature!

✧ reader & non!idol wooyoung ✧ genre: slice of life, summer, best friends who might like each other, mdni ✧ word count: 1,5k ✧ mentions: very small suggestive hint, rude stranger, insecurity, mdni

Reader and Wooyoung have been best friends for years. It isn't their first vacation together, but Reader is having a hard time enjoying it after being disappointed by a rejected flirt attempt with another tourist at the hotel. Wooyoung thinks that Reader is amazing, maybe he just needs to be the one to tell them just that.

You know it's silly: a rejected small flirt that wasn't even intended to be serious shouldn't ruin your day, but it does because you cannot entirely stop wondering why.

This was the summer vacation of your dreams: long beautiful beaches, white banks of sand, and the most stunning view from a hotel you could only afford after saving up for a year and with the help of your best friend, who watches you with mild amusement as you check your appearance once more.

From your hair to your outfit, social media would be jealous of the confidence you radiated when you left your shared room this morning. But now, the frown just won't leave you, even as you finally give in and join your best friend at the pool, which almost looks like it's part of the ocean underneath it.

Everything is perfect. You are at a place you always wanted to go to with the person who knows you best. But such a small incident once more reminds you that none of this really can chase away that silent wish for love, for somebody to share all of this with.

You stop caring about the makeup you put on when you dive under the water, but it doesn't really help, and all you can do is remain halfway hidden under the surface as you look at your chuckling best friend.

Wooyoung had been in high spirits; he's always easily excited: the space of the hotel room, the view, the stunning pool, and even the vast menu for breakfast. You envy him a little, how he always seemed to be so carefree. Of course, you know he hides a lot of his thoughts and struggles, but at the same time, he keeps pushing onward, no matter what happens.

This strength, yet his playful nature, has always drawn you to him, which made it so easy to become best friends. It also helped that you are close in age, understanding the struggles one goes through in their mid-20s.

"I already feared you would leave me all alone here," Wooyoung playfully pretends to whine a little as you give in and join his side. He has relaxed against the edge of the pool, allowing for a stunning view over the ocean.

You take a moment to admire how it looks, his long wet hair slightly pushed back, his torso no longer slim but muscular, water drops running over his skin and tattoos. As you catch yourself staring, you finally force yourself to look away.

"And do what? If I leave you alone, who knows where you'd end up? Then I'd have to search the entire small town for you, like last time! How is it that somebody who is a professional athlete manages to get lost so quickly?" you complain, only to distract from having been whiny all day.

Now that you are here with him like that, you suddenly feel quite silly for it. Your expressions soften, you sigh deeply and turn around to allow your head to lean over the edge of the pool, eyes closed.

"I know you will always come and find me. I am not worried," Wooyoung chuckles, but his voice becomes louder, indicating he moved closer to you.

"Mh true, what would you do without me?" you joke back and open your eyes to look at him, only to realize he had been drawing quite closely. Your cheeks flush as you look at him.

"What's up?" A silly question, but you cannot really phrase any other words, and before you know it, Wooyoung's arms are pinned around you, his gaze wandering over your face.

"I hate to see you so disappointed, you know? When we left the plane two days ago, you really seemed happy, and I was excited about it. Now, you seem like you cannot really let go of some idiot not knowing to appreciate you properly."

Wooyoung's voice was strangely sincere and serious; he wasn't trying to lighten the mood by acting silly or with quick words. Then, he also never had been shy to come closer; he loved to hug you and take your hand. You never really thought much into it, if this might be strange for other friendships.

"Ah, I... just. I guess, it did bother me a little. I thought, the way that guy looked at me, that he was trying to flirt with gazes, and then I just embarrassed myself being upfront..." your voice is a mutter, but you manage not to look away. At this point, Wooyoung is pinning you against the pool, your bodies close to each other.

You remind yourself again, not the first time but certainly the first of being like this, with so little clothing and surrounded by water, in front of all the other guests. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body; there is still a hint of the aftershave he must have used this morning.

Your body feels strange, not the way you are used to from having your best friend so close. For a moment, there is a hint of a desire to press closer together, to lean in and... His words take you out of it.

"If he cannot appreciate you properly, then he certainly doesn't deserve your attention, you know that?" Wooyoung answers, lifting one of his hands to place it against your cheek, his thumb brushing over it gently. Your mind struggles to form words as you feel in a way that confuses you.

This is your best friend Wooyoung; why do you react so strongly to it? He's beautiful, though, and always caring, looking out for you, more than you could ever have asked for and certainly more than any of your boyfriends offered before.

You exhale, trying to find words, but he's quicker again. Now the smile that is so familiar returns to his expressions: "I will be here to remind you, whenever you need it because you only deserve this and so much more."

When he steps back, you find yourself oddly disappointed, but you swallow it with silence as Wooyoung heads to the edge of the pool. You cannot stop thinking about the way you felt when he was so close, about his soft voice and how beautiful he looked in the sunlight.

It was all you could think about for the rest of the day, and even when the two of you went to the outside area of the restaurant which belonged to the hotel, you still had to try not to blush when recalling it. Your eyes wandered over the menu when a voice tore you out of it.

"Looks like you found somebody to be your summer fling after all, and even a popular face. Aren't you some kind of athlete?" The mocking voice belonged to the handsome stranger you tried to flirt with this morning.

It was impossible to hide your embarrassment, but Wooyoung was out and about to take care of it before you could say anything. "That is correct, I'm a baseball player, soon to be one of the nation's best," his voice lacks no confidence.

"And this one here is the most stunning and beautiful person I have ever encountered. This truly is the best vacation I ever had. If you'd excuse us now, we are about to enjoy dinner."

The tourist furrows his brows, obviously surprised by the bold statement. "If that would be so, you know that your date tried rather keenly to date me this morning?"

"That's not true!" You finally found your words, staring at the guy who is grinning, but suddenly, you are lifted up and pulled onto Wooyoung's lap. His arm curls around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder.

"It's a rare case of a true, sudden summer love. The one you see in movies where it takes an asshole like yourself to bring together what was meant to be. So thanks for that, I finally found that one special person."

The tourist and you are silenced as the bold words spread, but unlike him, you cannot help but blush, your heart beating loudly. The stranger mutters and leaves.

But even as he is gone, Wooyoung doesn't seem to have any intentions of dropping you. Instead, his fingers very gently turn your chin around and towards him. "You are worth everything, you know that? If you'd let me, I'll gladly show you."

Wooyoung's words are both sincere and playful. You swallow, but for some reason, you nod. Yes, Wooyoung knows you, and he never would disappoint you. "Yes, I want that... please show me."

You can see how he grins a little, but happiness is reflected in his eyes. Wooyoung leans in and your lips meet in a gentle kiss. It's curious but soft, and you find yourself returning it without any hesitation because it feels right and perfect just like that.

You two enjoy the moment and only part when one of the waiters clears her throat, asking about your order.

Wooyoung chuckles but finally allows you to return to your seat. "I am quite hungry now! Let's eat well and after that, how about a walk along the beach?" You rub one of your hands over your cheek, trying to chase away the blush, but find yourself smiling. "Ah yes, I'd love that."

Maybe all you were looking for, that person to cherish and love you just like that, has been there for quite some time but you overlooked him altogether.

Now, you won't.

[pippin-katz]

Charles VS The Night Nurse

As promised, here is my extensive essay!

I was thinking about how Charles fought off the Night Nurse, and how the others reacted. I have a lot of feelings and thoughts, so strap in for an emotional roller coaster.

All of them were shaken in that moment, but Crystal in particular brings it up several times afterwards. Her real focus is on his anger issues, but she uses the Night Nurse incident as grounds for Charles going too far. She mentions it being "a lot" to watch, and says, "You lost your shit while beating the Night Nurse!"

Here's the thing, Charles reiterates that she was going to send Edwin back to Hell, and take him away to the Afterlife. She also dragged him through all of his most traumatic memories, which the others couldn't see, but it doesn't take a genius to connect the dots that whatever she did was fucked up.

She uses his name, which she shouldn't know, threateningly suggests testing what else she knows about him, then makes a motion with her hand that makes Charles collapse. He falls limp like a ragdoll. I'd be surprised if he was motionless or expressionless in the real world during this process, so he was likely thrashing, struggling, and gasping like he was experiencing a nightmare, which he essentially was. It's like a nightmare on acid; it's not some flashes of bad memories or scary things, he is literally forced to relive his trauma and abuse in explicit detail, while the Night Nurse taunts him for it. When he gets up, something is very visibly wrong.

The Night Nurse then asks Edwin directly what pain he would like to relive. When Charles starts advancing on her, he confirms what she did indirectly: "Good on you, yeah? With your nightmares and your sick smile."

It's not difficult to draw the conclusion that whatever she just did to him involved his most painful memories and trauma. Crystal even briefly saw into the Night Nurse's head, and ended up get pushed to the ground screaming in horror.

So, Charles' emotional state is completely understandable and justified, and his friends should've been able to tell that based on the situation.

The Night Nurse is also a threat. She is not a normal human being, but someone supernatural. She seems very capable of sending Edwin back to Hell, and forcing Charles into his Afterlife.

I don't get the feeling that she wants it to come to that; she seems to see herself as above resorting to force. She talks to them prior to acting all three times she attempts to take them on her own. This allows them to convince her and stall her, but I get the impression that if she really wanted to, she could drag them both off the mortal plane by force. She even tells Kashi that while she doesn't enjoy violence, she's not above it. She would've taken them when they got back from Hell, but Niko finds an actual rule that prevents her from doing so.

Charles got lucky. He catches her completely off guard. She underestimates him. She's confused and stunned as he attacks her. She genuinely doesn't understand why he would want to stay on Earth after everything he went through. They also happen to be by the cliff for this, and there happens to be a very large, hungry sea monster waiting below them.

Charles got very, very lucky, because this woman is a supernatural entity. But the others don't treat the situation that way, and you know why?

Appearance.

Consider for a moment how differently that confrontation would've gone down if the Night Nurse truly looked like a supernatural being. Say she resembled something more like the demon that took Edwin to Hell, humanoid but definitely not human, and scary. Do you think the others would have been so speechless and bothered if Charles had fought off something like that?

The answer is no.

The reason the other three are so shocked and upset is because the Night Nurse looks like a small, middle-aged, white woman, who doesn't fight back. Even though she is clearly unharmed by Charles' hits, they can't stop themselves from seeing the situation as: Charles beating a small woman with a heavy object and kicking her off a cliff.

That is what it looked like, but that is not what happened.

Charles fought off a supernatural being that was threatening to send his best mate back to Hell and force him to go to an Afterlife he didn't want, separating him from Edwin, and taking him away from the new friends he's made. He did not beat up a defenseless woman. She may have been unarmed, but she was not powerless. From Charles' position, the Night Nurse was a monster in human clothing, and he was completely within his right to think that way.

As a matter of fact, the Night Nurse in Doom Patrol looks inhuman/monstrous, and is even referred to as a demon in one of the articles I read about the spin-off show.

I brought this up in my essay about iron burns, and it's very relevant here, so I'll say it again.

The Night Nurse attacks Charles first.

The severity of her attack is hidden from the others; they couldn't even begin to understand how that felt, even if they were fully aware of what happened. Her attack is primarily emotional and mental, but it is also physical. She makes him relive being stoned by his friends and beaten by his father; he could feel that. The Night Nurse does not hit him, but she hurts him, hurts him bad. Despite what the others see, when Charles hits her with that music box, he’s retaliating, not initiating.

The others struggle with disconnecting her appearance from her purpose and personality, even though it should be obvious. All she did during that sequence was be cruel to them.

She uses Crystal's vulnerability as bait, dismissing her emotions with a self-satisfied and condescending smile, literally referring to them as trivial.

She fully intends to send Edwin back to Hell even though he doesn't belong there, purely because it says so on a sheet of paper; she doesn't seem bothered at all by what that actually means for him, despite having a visible reaction of horror to the Spider when it takes Edwin away.

She ignores Charles' statements about staying on Earth, twisting the knife by telling him how much he doesn't belong there. He died as a teenager, robbed of the life he should've had, and rather than showing any empathy for him and his understandable desire to stay, she rubs salt into the wounds with satisfaction.

She forces Charles back into his most painful and traumatic memories, and uses them to emphasize even more how pointless and worthless she sees the idea of him staying on Earth.

She points out how his friends caused his death while laughing, but while she's not laughing, she's reveling in being "right". She doesn't show any sympathy for him, despite pointing out the apathy in his friends.

She sees why his friends turned on him, and she's disappointed by it, like she was expecting something more. She acts like he's being overdramatic that he would stay on Earth all because his friends bullied some kid.

She watches his father viscously beat him, and her only commentary on the matter is that Charles failed to make things better, as if it was somehow his fault that his father abused him.

She condescendingly lectures Charles about how being good didn't, and still doesn't matter, as if he's naive about how awful the world is, and foolish for trying to be positive and helpful.

She toys with Charles, treating him, his experiences, and his feelings like she's got a doll with a remote and wants to press all of the buttons, just because she can and wants to see what happens.

She does all of this with a smug expression.

She turns to do it to Edwin, asking him what pain he wants to relive as if that's a question he could answer when his response is ultimately meaningless. She's going to do it regardless; she's asking him to taunt him.

She begins to ask Charles if he needs more pain to realize that she's right, like he's a toddler throwing a temper tantrum rather than a deeply damaged teenager who is suffering, from her actions.

She scoffs after Charles hits her the first time, seeming unimpressed and bored, as if this isn't a life-or-death equivalent situation for them. Their entire existence is being attacked, but she acts like Charles is lashing out over being grounded or told he doesn't get dessert.

Every single thing about the Night Nurse and her behavior should have had all of them distraught, terrified, furious, or all of the above.

What does Charles say to the jocks at the end of their case? That they were "cruel just for the shits"? How is what she does any different? She humiliates and crushes Charles like it's fun for her to watch. She didn't even need to do that to him; she does it to prove a point, and get him to leave "willingly", even though willingness is clearly not taken into consideration by the Afterlife. Before the Principal sees their case files in the final episode, she was going to send them to their Afterlives. She did not even acknowledge their desires. She tells them she can do whatever she likes, and fully intends to do so until she reads all the cases they've solved and souls they've helped move on. The Night Nurse could've forced them to go from the start.

Even the first time the audience is introduced to her, the Night Nurse is distinctly inhuman. The way she speaks about them, saying "bad boys" in an unnerving tone. The fact that she refers to dying children as a "flood of weak, feeble bodies". In her own words, she is not a living human.

Being swallowed by Angie is the best thing to ever happen to the Night Nurse. Without talking to Kashi, I don't know if she ever would've started to understand; even she seems to not understand why she wants to help Charles and Edwin after she agrees to. She still has quite a lot of work to do, but Kashi made her a more complex and intriguing character than she would've been if she behaved the same way throughout the entire show. That being said, they don't know that she's going to change and grow when they have their first confrontation with her.

The Night Nurse at that point is a monster, and Charles was well within his right to "slay" her as such. I truly think the only reason the others react so poorly is because of her appearance. I can't help but wonder how differently that sequence would've played out if she wasn't a little woman in a pantsuit.

In conclusion, Charles did nothing wrong on that cliff.

(ko-fi)

[roguerambles]

A Nymph and A Spartan

Record of Ragnarök - Leonidas x Female Reader

Warnings - 18+Only. Adult Situations.

Okay, so credit for this idea goes to an anon on @rukia-writes blog, which I have been graciously allowed to use, so I hope you don't mind because we need more sexy Leonidas stories, damn it--

Enjoy!

-

"We shouldn't be in here!"

"Oh, Aurai, stop worrying."

"Start worrying, Stellia! Lord Apollo would be furious if he knew we were here--"

"We are here for Lord Apollo, remember--?"

You huffed slightly as your fellow nymphs bickered between themselves, tucked behind you as you crouched together in the small, wooded area the three of you had snuck into. The whole thing had been Stellia's idea. "We should understand who Lord Apollo is facing!" She had insisted, while Aurai had been indignant at the thought Apollo required any kind of advantage to best a mere human. You had tagged along simply to keep them out of trouble.

"We're going to get caught if you two do not pipe down--" You tried to shush them, only for Stellia to suddenly grasp your arm, pointing just past the treeline.

"Look!"

You followed her gesture with an aggrieved sigh - you were missing a perfectly good bath for this - and turned to face the direction she was pointing, half expecting--

Men.

Shirtless men.

Tall, shirtless, filled with muscle, Spartan men.

"Oh Fates--" Aurai squeaked, clasping a hand over her mouth, a deep flush filling her cheeks. "We...we should leave!"

"No." You replied, remaining rooted to the spot. The Spartans seemed to be training, judging by the dummies and weapons scattered about. You had never actually been to Sparta in its glory, but if the towering specimens of manhood in front of you, bodies built like exquisitely carved statues made flesh and blood were the norm, you severely regretted it.

The three of you remained huddled together, blatantly gawking at every contracting muscle - if any of the Spartans looked up they probably would have spotted you. "Which...um..." Stellia found her voice first, although her eyes remained glued to the back of a particularly strapping fellow practicing with bow and arrow. "...which one do you think is facing Lord Apollo...?"

"Who cares?" You said back vaguely. Stellia hummed as though in agreement, and you both fell silent once more. The archer released his arrow, hitting the target with a loud thunk.

Aurai grasped your hand, sounding flustered. "We...we should--"

"What are you doing in here?" A deep, masculine voice boomed behind you.

Stellia and Aurai both shrieked in alarm, grabbing onto your sides as you spun around. Your gaze landed on a broad expanse of abdomen, warm fleshed carved expertly into solid, defined muscle. Scar tissue bumped against smooth planes of skin, and your eyes trailed upwards over broad pectoral muscles, full and large, sharply defined collarbones, a somewhat scruffy beard dusting over a handsome jawline, full lips turned down in a severe frown--

"I don't care for repeating myself." King Leonidas of Sparta said, his voice rumbling darkly like thunder. The sound probably should have made you shiver with fear, instead of...something else. "What are you three doing in here?"

You opened your mouth to reply - to say something - but your mind had become quite unhelpful in anything but hyper focusing on every inch of the naked torso directly in front of you. He folded his arms - the movement causing the thick, powerful muscles of his biceps to swell indecently, his frown growing deeper as he glared down at you impatiently.

Fates, he was gorgeous--

"You three attend Lord Apollo, do you not?" A woman's voice, firm and measured as a steel blade, spoke from behind Leonidas's massive frame. Lady Brunhilde stepped around him, her cool gaze running over you and your companions. "You should not be in here. I am afraid I must escort you outside."

Leonidas's frown became a snarl, a vicious flash of teeth. "You serve that preening bastard?" Aurai squeaked out something that may have been some manner of defence, but she looked far too flustered to form proper words. Stellia was still staring at Leonidas, jaw hanging open slightly.

You knew you should have been offended at such an insult to your Lord, but you instead tilted your head upwards, meeting the furious fire in Leonidas's eyes. You slowly rose to your feet, the human man towering over you still, feeling the weight of his men's eyes on your back, having apparently noticed the commotion.

"My apologies." You said finally, reaching out to softly brush your palm against Leonidas's abdomen, the muscles flexing unconsciously under your touch. You peered up at him through your lashes, smiling as his eyebrows twitched slightly upwards in a brief flash of surprise. "We were just going."

Leonidas watched as your slowly brushed past him, nodding politely to Lady Brunhilde who regarded you with a raised brow and somewhat bemused smile. You followed the Valkyrie outside, Stellia and Aurai darting after you, feeling Leonidas's gaze burning against your back.

"Please, do not tell Lord Apollo--" Aurai pleaded at Brunhilde, who barely glanced over her shoulder.

"I care little about your personal relationships with your master. I won't say anything."

You smiled brightly at Brunhilde as she delivered you back to Apollo's rooms, and you could have sworn you saw a glimmer of amusement in the Valkyrie's eyes as she walked away.

-

You were not sure exactly how time worked in the Valhalla Arena.

You had considered asking Brunhilde, but you doubted she had particular interest in educating you on the subject, and you had a more pressing matter you wished to address.

Lord Apollo had barely noticed your absence, and last you had seen him he was in the baths with your fellow nymphs. Aurai and Stellia had settled in, but you had made your excuses and left, although you doubted anyone besides them had seen you leave Lord Apollo's rooms.

Normally you would have been bothered by Apollo's lack of attention, although it was hardly unusual. The God's affections were fickle and tempestuous as the weather, but he never failed to attract flocks of admirers regardless.

Why should he have all the fun?

It did not take long to find Leonidas's quarters, even less to sneak your way in. Dark had fallen over the area in a seeming imitation of night, and you could hear men laughing and hear fire crackling somewhere further within.

You peered through the gloom, trying to decide where exactly to go, when arms circled around your waist, and you found yourself pulled flush against a broad, muscled chest. "You Gods never learn, do you?" Leonidas's growled lowly in your ear, the sound washing over you like a wave, making you shiver softly. "You just do whatever you want, don't you?"

You laughed slightly, the heat of Leonidas's body searing through your clothes, making your breath quicken. You reached down to trail your fingers along his forearm, nails coming to lightly dig into the solid muscle of his bicep. "I certainly hope so."

Leonidas scoffed, a short, booming laugh falling from his lips, the sound vibrating deep in his strong chest. "What makes you think I'm interested in what you have to offer, God?"

You chuckled, pushing your hips back against his. Your rear brushed against something hard and hot and large and you couldn't suppress the shiver of excitement that ran up your spine, nor the jolt of desire that shot through your belly as Leonidas groaned softly at your movements. "I don't think that's a weapon hidden down there."

Leonidas shook slightly, his chin dropping to your shoulder, the scruff of his beard rubbing against the skin of your shoulder. You bit your lip, picturing the sensation of it rubbing against other areas and your heart quickened as Leonidas's large, rough palms slowly slid up your arms, long fingers brushing at the fabric of your loose dress.

"...may I?" He murmured in your ear, voice low and heavy with the growing embers of desire. You shivered in anticipation, and reached up to gently grasp his hands, your fingers sliding over his to guide them slowly downwards, pulling your gown with them.

Your dress pooled at your feet, and you felt a certain smugness as you felt Leonidas stiffen at your back, the slightest sharp inhale of breath. You turned to press your chest flush against his, a thrill shooting through you as you caught the darkening of his eyes, the hungry way they roamed over you.

"...that bastard won't get mad you are here?" Leonidas asked after a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

"Does it matter if he does?" You trailed your fingers down his abdomen, grabbing at the waistband of his pants. "He might be dead tomorrow."

Leonidas looked surprised, before tossing his head back, a deep roar of laughter spilling from him. His broad shoulders shook for a few moments, before he returned his gaze to you, a genuinely amused grin forming on his face.

"You're a woman after my own heart, nymph."

You felt heat in your cheeks at his words, the surprising warmth in his expression, and you shrugged lightly, pulling his waistband downwards, exposing the deliciously defined v-shape in his hips. You bit your lower lip hard, the pulse of lust deep in your belly almost making your knees shake. "It's not just your heart I'm after."

Leonidas's grin turned wolfish, and he ducked down, his arm wrapping around your hip. You yelped as you were suddenly hoisted onto his shoulder. Leonidas shook out of his pants, carelessly kicking them aside as he began striding in a direction you sincerely hoped there was a bed.

"I might be after something else of yours, too."

-

"Seriously, where were you yesterday? You never came back!"

"Stellia, will you stop--"

The crowd was already stirring with excitement, and you watched with some trepidation as Heimdall began to announce the Ninth Round of Ragnarök. You remained quiet as Stellia continued to prod you, while Aurai nervously toyed with her hands.

Apollo entered the arena, golden and resplendent as always, and your fellow nymphs dissolved into excited squeals and cheers. You clapped softly, your gaze drifting towards the opposing doors.

Leonidas strode into the Arena, tall and proud as any warrior king should be. His eyes were firmly on Apollo, his handsome, scarred face forming an angry sneer. His gaze drifted briefly over Apollo's head, however, landing on you amongst the crowd. Apollo's head slowly turned, an expression of confusion clouding his lovely features.

You smiled, uncaring of who saw you, lifted your fingers to your lips, and blew a kiss in Leonidas's direction.

Leonidas's eyebrows rose, but you could see the pleased smirk on his face as he lifted a large hand, clenching his fist as though to catch your kiss in his hand.

Apollo looked stunned, his jaw dropping open, briefly losing all composure and grace as he gawked in total disbelief at the display he had just witnessed in front of him.

"What was that?!" Aurai yelped loudly, looking at you as though you had sprang a second head.

"You harlot." Stellia grabbed your hand, pulling you towards her eagerly, eyes bright. "Tell me everything!"

"Have you lost your mind?!" Another nymph yelled, while the one beside her peered down at Leonidas thoughtfully.

"I mean...he is rather dashing--"

"Forget that, he's hot."

"Oh, I was hoping someone would say it, it's been driving me mad--"

You couldn't fight the smile forming on your face as Apollo's expression turned sour, turning back to face Leonidas, who looked delightfully smug, tossing a wild grin your way.

Fates, you wanted him to win.

[lyramundana]

I had a little thought that I needed to share but no idea what to do with and what better than to bring it to the Minsung queen.

Mc calling Minsung mommy and daddy, or like her parents in general, because they treat her like Minho treats his precious kitties with the upmost love and care and special treatment even. They could never be mad at her, it’s never her fault and they’ll defend her on that. She thinks it’s all platonic (doesn’t want it to be) but she couldn’t be more wrong.

She doesn’t know every time she calls Minho mommy he wants to say all hell to dinner and bend her over the counter. She doesn’t know every time she calls Jisung daddy he wants to force his cock down her throat while he watches plays his game (now we all know that wouldn’t last long before he’s more focused on fucking her face). She doesn’t know every time she calls them mommy and daddy they wanna make her a real mommy.

Annyyywayyss, from the corner of your room,

- Fellow Minsung Whore😚

(I swear I’m working on my own little things😭)

We're spreading the Mommy! Minho agenda, yesss! And finally someone understands the potential of Han Jisung as a Daddy, again YES!!!

I love the subby, babygirl Jisung as much as everyone else here, but c'mon, have you seen his stage presence? His personality outside of it? There's a dominant, intimidating side in him, and we should explore it more..

Anyway, back to this treasure because I don't even know how to respond (as usual with this bitch)

the Minsung queen.

AUSFJERJVFJ what even?😂😫i don't deserve such title, i'm just another delulu obsessed with minsung, but thank you nontheless

She doesn’t know every time she calls them mommy and daddy they wanna make her a real mommy

STOP IT this made me feel thingies on my lower regions i shouldn't talk about 😵😵 I need more details now, like WAY more details pls. Love how they're so soft for her and spoil her rotten, with the "it's never her fault". And how horny they are for her. Imagine how they are when they finally drop the platonic farse and finally make their wishes reality.

She would be so throughly fucked that by the end of it she would be unable to walk or even speak. She's brainless, in another plane of existence, which it's perfect for the, because it allows them to care for her body so much better. Seriously, the first week is brutal for the three of them, taking breaks only to eat and shower, to make up for all the pent up tension, and there's not a corner in the house where they haven't make her cum at least twice.

"Look at you, baby, making such a mess all over Daddy's cock. What would Mommy say if she saw you getting dirty like this, mhm?" he speaks with fake dissapointment, as he keeps a firm grip on her hair, legs spread on the couch lazily.

"My sweet, pretty baby, always so good for us. Can you strech your legs a bit wider for me, kitten? Mommy wants to fill you up nice and good." he says sultry in her ear, as he slowly pushes her down on his hard on, making sure his whole dick is inside of her for when he empties his seed on her.

Taglist: @channieandhisgoonsquad @2chopsticks2eyes @moonlightndaydreams @skzms @thightswideforhanin @queenmea604 @k-krissten @stayconnecteed @roseykat @hyunsvngs @hanjisunglover @hanjibug (if anyone wants to be added please let me know)

[ddejavvu]

it’s dbf!indy anon and I finally had a thought!!!

looking at old photos of your dad and indy with dbf!indy, and just being like “wow I would’ve smashed younger you” or “you’ve just gotten more handsome with age” or like, subtly flirting and he’s trying so hard to not flirt back bc he’s still trying to forget that he finds you attractive

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+ (due to an age gap), minors dni.

Your dad seems to have been a whole other person before he'd settled down with your mom. You've never seen this side of him before, the cocky young man pictured beside Dr. Jones at a dig site, squinting into the sun and marred with dirt. Now he's neat, proper, and wouldn't spent days at a dig site if he was offered millions of dollars.

Dr. Jones is even more jarring to look at. There's a layer of rugged scruff on his face in the picture, his shirt hanging half open over his chest and sweat lining his brow. His sleeves are torn off in the photos, probably due to the sweltering heat they're working in, though you wonder if having his skin exposed left him vulnerable to sunburns. He doesn't look burnt, only gorgeously tanned, and you marvel over the man he used to be.

"That's you?" You ogle at a shot of him standing atop a carrier plane, lugging crates of god knows what into the hold. The cut-off sleeves give you a fantastic view of the muscles in his arms bulging while he lifts the boxes, and you only wish you'd have been there in person to avoid the slightly grainy quality to the film. It's a precarious position he's in, one that you wouldn't expect from the proper professor beside you.

"That's me," He drawls, "You like my hair?"

It's not combed, laying fluffy and natural over his forehead. There's a hat hanging from his belt, and you're surprised it hadn't messed up the strands of hair that flop so naturally over his head.

"it's different," You laugh, turning to face him. He'd been peering over your shoulder to see the pictures you're looking at, so when you turn, you're rather close. He doesn't move away, though, not even as you study him with a discerning gaze.

"You're proper-handsome now." You decide, "The gelled hair, the glasses, the suits-and-ties. But you used to be rugged-handsome." You flip to the next page, showcasing him caught sleeping against a load of cargo in the tiny plane.

You're too focused on the photos to notice him watching you, jaw working to tighten his lazy grin so that it doesn't turn upside down. He's fighting an internal battle, he knows he shouldn't be attracted to you but he is, and he can't decide whether he'll allow himself to accept your compliments or not.

"See?" You point to his posture, toned arms stretched up and over his head, his hat over his face to block out the sun, "That's a picture they'd put in one of those super-sexy firefighter-of-the-month calendars. The muscles, the open shirt, the thighs on display..." You muse, tracing over each feature you name.

He's torn. You're complimenting him, openly, brazenly. He knows he's not taking advantage of you, you're coming to him, but something about it seems so forbidden that he almost can't respond. But he's well-acquainted with danger, with the exhilaration of doing something he shouldn't, so he lets a chuckle escape, "Yeah? You think I'd make it as a sexy firefighter?"

"Oh, for sure," You nod, like you think you're reassuring his insecurities, "Just lose the shirt and swap it for suspenders, Indy, you'd fit right in."

"Really," He marvels your bold nature, unable to stop from laughing again, "Well sweetheart, maybe you 'oughta take the pictures for me. Pose me, oil me up, that sorta thing."

"Deal," You grin, turning back to face him again, still not backing away from your tantalizingly close proximity, "Should I bring socks to stuff your crotch with?"

"No need," Indiana assures you, his drawl never having been cockier, "I've got that covered myself, sweetheart."

[merao-mariposa]

You recibe the sun

The one were Philza wakes up and they are sleeping

<3•<3•<3•<3•<3

The creaking of old bones was the only thing that echoed in the room above the soft snores.

The muscles of his wings warmed satisfactorily with the stretch and let them rest again on his husband and children, unconsciously covering and protecting them from the outside world and the morning light that was beginning to come through the window.

The hibernation season in dragons is serious, as they grow years can pass, even millennia and the heart of the poor crow knows that he could not bear that anguish.

Reapers are also known for sleeping a lot when not on duty, something about living between the two planes of existance and something about how demanding it is to harvest souls.

Philza knows what that's like so he treasures having him right now.

Philza's eyes were heavy and he knew he didn't feel like getting up so early this morning, the pillow was still a little cold and the sheets around him were as soft as they were abundant, he almost wanted to get lost in the feel of the material under his wings and on his body. He rolled over onto his stomach and made a satisfied bird noise.

When the blond man finally ventured to open his eyes he got aware that the sun was just rising to greet the residents of the small home, which did’nt seem to bother his platonic husband for the way he curved in pursuit of some warmth sunlight. The sight before him turned Phil's heart into a hot, fuzzy puddle.

His husband, the father of his children and his partner was lying next to him, one of his arms innocently touching his bare bicep as if Missa needed skin-to-skin contact between them every night. no matter how small it was. Chayanne loosely wrapped his short arms around his father's stomach and at his side little Tallulah shrinks to fit perfectly between them so that the two children (as always when they sleep) seek the comfort that Missa radiates just with his sleepy presence.

The sight is more than enough to discourage the blonde man's heavy eyelids from closing again and he allows himself to absorb every little detail of the scene; His children fit together like pieces of a puzzle, like the siblings they are, their tails intertwine with Missa's, surrounding them in a soft and natural touch, his husband's hair is a mess and his daughter's satin cap has come off. at some point in the night so that there are two heads with dark, messy hair in front of him (he refrains from leaving a kiss on the forehead of any of them) Chayanne has the most relaxed expression in the world, he always has an expression of peace and delight when he is with his papá, happy to have the rest he has always deserved, Missa's skeletal arm rested on Chayanne's back securing his children against him in a loving gesture, and Missa-.

His Missa.

Phil's heart skips a beat and slow, and oh torturously slow, he puts his hand between the sheets, feeling around, searching through the things he knows shouldn't be in the bed but you can't blame his tired brain for forgetting to tidy up, pushing away Chay's float is that he reaches and finally gets: his camera.

He puts this closer to his own feathered chest and Missa squirms at his movement, he purrs lightly and one of his ears goes towards him capturing the slightest sound but he doesn't wake up and Phil sighs in relief.

Missa is handsome, even pretty, his torso wrapped in a tank top and the soft sheets, spread all over the bed like if he owned it all alone, he knows that if he were awake he would apologize very embarrassed for it but to Phil he owns more than his bed, in fact, he would get a thousand beds only if Missa suggests wanting more, without even really asking for it, and Phil will bring it to him on a silver platter, which is so corny he wishes he would die and never say it out loud.

His husband's bare face bathes in the soft light of the sun, cat instincts so deep in his brain that Missa seeks to revel in the sun he loves (that shouldn't make Philza blush as if it were about him) even in the realm of dreams, his head splayed out on the pillows, his neck so visible that he almost feels bad for watching so much that Missa's pulse is there, almost feeling it beating under his eyes but you can't blame him after barely having any sign of the cat hybrid, he can and will be greedy for his sleeping partner, thank you very much. The dark fluffy ears at the top of his head were like a crown in his messy black hair, so adorable that Phil wants to coo loudly at them but he stops himself, and finally his face, it should be a crime to hide such a pretty face behind a mask (the same with the soft ears and tail) but the angel of death knew well that it was for reasons of force majeure that the reaper had to keep this contraption close to him.

He was still grateful to have the privilege of seeing Missa’s face that others will never see.

Missa makes a squeaky whimper of his own and the blonde man fears he's woken him up only with the sharp intensity of his eyes (he may be staring at him a little too hard) but instead his face turns until he's face to face with Philza, crawling closer. so close. as the light of the sun allows him.

The moon is facing him and nothing should stop him from leaving a scorching kiss on those pinkish lips that seductively catch the eyes and Philza Minecraft was strong for many things but not really for this.

Philza thought about it and then his instincts called and then he thought again and a slow breath was crossed with what could only be a purr and the greedy crow just gave up; Using his muscle memory quickly shot a picture that frames the perfect shot of the golden sun covering in this light to his family as if he were wanting to preserve them in their sleeping safety, his beloved children are wrapped in a protective embrace, they are so lucky to be together as a complete family and to be able to see their starry eyes when they'll finally wake up, and finally his husband who makes Phil evaporate into little more than a domestic bird, the sky can be tasted from Missa's lips and he knows that with him the weight on his shoulders and on those of Chayanne and in Tallulah's will grow small, Missa is so liberating that he wanted to laugh right here and right now, but it is busy kissing his sleeping reaper's lips.

The loud purring was the only thing that echoed in the room above the soft snores.