#this popped up in my inbox like two days ago

[total-drama-brainrot]

Alenoah Be Like:

Noah: Once I thought you were a big, pompous buffoon. Then I realized that inside you were just a pitiful child. But now I realize that outside that child is a big, pompous buffoon!

Alejandro: And which one rocks your world? ;)

Happy Alenoah week.

[desireangel]

Dark Cherry [2] | Aemond Targaryen

Part Two

Summary: after months of a marriage that hardly harbours the passion that you'd dreamed about, you stumble across the reason for your husband's indifference and decide enough is enough. Aemond will learn just exactly what he's been missing out on.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader and also some Aemond x some random girly pop ;o

Word Count: (I'm... sorry?) 7.1k

Warnings: smut - mdni 18+!!! UNEDITED!! infidelity, kinda angsty? second-hand smut? power struggle both in bed and out, reader is a cheeky voyeur, oral (f receiving), thigh riding, degradation, Aemond is a fucking asshole but he's sexy, talk of masturbation. as always, let me know if I have missed anything!

Author's note: Entirely unedited because here I am posting this at 2:30AM having just finished writing this bad boy even though I have to be up for work at 7:30. yay :/. Anyways, thank you all so much for the love on this series so far! I'm thinking there could potentially be some more to come. Reader ain't done with her revenge so soon. I will reblog with the taglist tomorrow! or today I guess--after I've had some sleep! I would also love to hear your thoughts!! So pls hmu in my inbox to chat abt things xoxo kisses!!!! <3

Masterlist!

Part One

Distancing yourself from Aemond was not a difficult task. You’d barely see much of him aside from the meals you shared and your occasional stroll through the gardens anyway. It still felt odd, knowing that you were avoiding him when only days ago you had been grasping at whatever crumb of his attention you could reach. 

His existence was ghostly. Always talked about but never seen and it made it remarkably easy to ignore him. You spent most days between your chambers and Helaena’s, idly passing time with embroidery and small talk. But you were distracted - your mind foggy and your usual grace and poise replaced by clumsiness and a constant flustered jumpiness.

It was always on your mind. Always. 

Your mind was a problem of its own and as soon as you lay down amongst your sheets for a night of sleep, it took you back to the memory of your name lewdly falling from Aemond’s lips. As days had passed, you could have convinced yourself it was a hallucination - an odd dream of some sort.  

And while it had become muscle memory for your hand to find your soaked sex at the midnight hour, the scene of your alluring husband in the throes of pleasure bringing you to a quick peak, the first two nights had been marred with silent tears of humiliation, hurt, betrayal–jealousy and anger. 

Maybe it was for the best that you had not seen the face of the whore in his private chambers. If you had any idea of who she was, you would have had half a mind to have sought her out and suffocated her yourself.

You had to remind yourself that if she were, in fact, a whore then you could hardly let yourself seriously consider choking a woman out for simply doing her job. 

Frustration was an understatement. No matter how hard you tried, there was nothing that you could do which would calm the mix of emotions inside you. You considered declaring Aemond’s infidelity at dinner–or even at the small feast that was held two nights ago. But it wouldn’t be enough and it was too early to show your hand. 

If you had come out and made it known to all at Court, nothing would happen. At all. 

Most husbands take on whores and mistresses. And despite the pain and hurt of it that the wives suffer, it’s simply accepted as the way things are. Men are innately animals and so they must fuck like it too. So nobody would bat an eyelid at Aemond. Instead, you knew that they’d turn it on you in one way or another. 

On the sixth day, you were surprised when Ser Tunsley knocked on your door to announce your husband’s presence. When Aemond took a seat at the small table where you usually shared your breakfast, he barely spared you more than an inquisitive look before telling your handmaid to bring your breakfasts promptly. 

Aemond leaned back, letting his legs rest comfortable but still maintained his effortlessly flawless posture. He reached for the book that lay forgotten on the side-table, holding it open with one hand and his other arm stretching over the back of the seat beside him, where you sat all tense and surprised. A barely-there frown crossed your face at the foreign gesture and you willed yourself not to think much of it.

You would have fumbled to snatch the book from his hands, if this had been a week earlier. But it wasn’t, and with a curious and conniving sense of calm, you let him read the first page of a story riddled with obscenity and romance. The first couple chapters were perfectly appropriate.

The prince looked at you with a gentle tilt of his head, unmoving aside from . “You have been withdrawn.”

Silence. You were sitting beside him, unable to meet his eye as you usually would, scoffing so softly at his words that he almost mistook it for a cough. 

Aemond, who was far more observant of you than he knew you believed him to be, found that he was bothered by it. Whether it was because of the loss of the devotion that he had always seen in your doe-eyed gaze, or the flippant shift in your attitude, he did not want to know. 

“Have I done something that has bothered you, dear wife?” His eye returned to the book and moved from one side of the page to the other as he read. 

Aemond clearly did not see you watching them on that night. The fact that you had faced no repercussions for sneaking up on him and eavesdropping on such a moment was enough confirmation of that. 

But Aemond’s presence re-ignited the red hot resentment you had for his actions and the hurt that you felt because of him. How any man could seek out the company of his wife for the first time in a week, sit beside her and pretend so shamelessly as if he cared for the repercussions of his own vile actions was beyond you. 

Nonetheless, you forced a polite smile onto your lips and turned slightly to face him better. You let his question linger in the air between you as the maid returned, placing a plate of cheeses, fruits and an assortment of breads on the table in front of you. 

Thanking her, you reached to pour yourself a cup of the sweet vanilla and rose tea that had become your favourite part of your mornings in the Keep. When you answered his question, it was purposefully less than what Aemond was seeking. 

“I have been ill, lord husband,” you murmured. When you rested against the back of the seat, you tensed at the feeling of Aemond’s arm grazing your shoulder. You had forgotten it was there. 

Your reaction to his proximity and while you had initially been shy around him–not so much since you had started your little performance–, you never flinched away from his touch. 

Aemond placed the book down beside him and hummed in thought. He reached over you, to take a piece of fresh bread for his plate and to put some fruit on your plate, his chest pressing against your shoulder and his hair brushing past your nose. 

If you had moved, just an inch, your lips would be against the milky skin of his throat. Despite your disdain for your husband, you could hear the thrum of your heartbeat in your ears and stopped yourself from dragging your fingers through his hair and tracing your lips across his jaw. 

There was an unfamiliar sense of purpose behind what he was doing. It dawned on you that he knew what he was doing. The bread was already on his plate but the son of a bitch placed the fruits piece by piece on your plate, his movements lazy. 

He smelled like lavender, leather and dragon smoke. Like an intoxicating drug that overwhelmed your mind until piety and sin were indiscernible. It was far too easy for you to see Aemond as more godly than just a mere man, to feel the need to worship him in the most sinful ways you could imagine. 

No man in any realms was as strong, as beautiful, as terrifying, as educated as the prince who breathed fire onto your skin. And he was your prince. 

A drop in your stomach was the least of your problems when the image of Aemond enjoying another woman’s passion invaded your thoughts. You wondered if his scent drove her just as mad as it made you and you had the urge to drive a knife through Aemond’s hand for you knew he’d have let her indulge in him. 

But when he looked at you, his violet eye a mask of indifference yet still failing to hide something that you couldn’t for the life of you put into words, you hated that your desire for him burned just as strong as your rage. 

Aemond’s eye met yours, humming in thought as he brought a cherry to his lips and glancing down at your own. He took a bite out of it first and then brought it to your mouth, dragging the open side across your bottom lip. The soft fruit dripped delicately onto your chin and left a stain on your perfect lips. The sight of you with reddened lips, gazing up at him with blown out pupils, shining with an uncorrupted devotion and a pure desire sent his blood rushing. 

The cherry was sweet and chilled, a stark contrast to the darkened, heated want that Aemond watched you with. And again, you had an urge to ignore everything and take what it was that you had been hoping Aemond would give you. You obediently took the cherry into your mouth, holding his gaze, chewing the flesh of the fruit and rolling the pip on your tongue. 

When you looked hard enough into Aemond’s eye, you could see the reflection of yourself morph into a reflection of the unnamed woman and you turned from him, turning away to drop the pip of the cherry onto a napkin. 

Aemond’s hand fell softly to rest on your knee and he only moved back a nudge. You refused to meet his eye but you could feel his warm breath on your cheek as he spoke, his voice slightly strained yet still calm and smooth. “I’ll send for a maester.” 

“Thank you,” you pushed the words out of your mouth and nodded towards the food. “You should eat your breakfast, my prince.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow as you rolled your eyes at him and slid back into his previous posture, sitting against the backrest of his own seat. An infuriating grin played on his lips. “Don’t worry about my breakfast. Why did you roll your eyes at me?”

You rolled your eyes again. “As if I cannot call for a maester myself.”

It crossed your mind that you could have told him right now of what you had seen. And the urge to scream at him became so strong you almost did. 

But what would come of it? Not enough. Aemond would only offer you an apology if you were lucky and carry on as if nothing was amiss. Because that is just how it is for husbands–they could cheat and lie all they please to no consequence. And you wanted him to regret the moment he chose to disrespect you. 

You wanted him to suffer for it. To feel as insulted, as embarrassed and as inferior as you have.

So he would suffer. But you had to be patient if you were to make it hurt. 

A thought crossed your mind as Aemond said something you didn’t quite hear, with that unbothered expression he had mastered years ago. 

He didn’t linger long after that. You ate your breakfast in silence, while Aemond, much to your distaste, finished the first chapter of your book. And when he finally left, he took it with him, giving you a knowing smirk as he tucked it under his arm. 

One punch. Surely, you would be entitled to that. 

Initially, the idea of seducing Jason Lannister was a gruesome one. But upon hearing of his prolonged and unbusy presence at King’s Landing, you recognised an opportunity as it presented itself to you. Simply because of pride and ego, there were few men who enjoyed the idea of his wife turning to another man for what they could not provide. 

Alas, if there was any part of Aemond that made him weak, it was his pride and his arrogance. 

And so here you were, enjoying your afternoon tea with the Lannister twin, listening to stories of his life at Casterly Rock. You made sure the house staff had known of Lannister’s presence and that the Kingsguard were well aware of the pot of tea you shared in the Courtyard. Easily within sight of where you knew Aemond was training with Ser Cole and some other men you had no interest in knowing.

For the past thirty minutes, you could feel him watching you. But when you lifted your head to look, pretending to the man across from you that you were interested in watching your husband train, Aemond would turn away. Yet he finally seemed to have finally had enough and you could see him walking over from behind Jason, his shoulders stiffer than usual with a sour expression. 

“This tea,” you covered your mouth gently, letting out the remnants of a laugh that had been pulled from you. If you were being honest, Jason Lannister was turning out to be surprisingly fun company and the smile you had expected to fake ended up being real. Not bothering to look at Aemond, who was much closer now, you held your teacup towards the Lord Lannister with a pretty, sultry smile. “It is incredible–I’ve loved it so much, t’is the only tea I will drink. Have a taste of mine, I insist.”

With a look of blatant excitement, Jason leaned into where you held the cup, fingers grazing yours as he held the cup but never took it out of your hold and took a sip. It was slightly awkward, the way his eyes held onto yours, but you brightened your smile nonetheless. 

Aemond visibly inhaled a sharp breath and cleared his throat, covering the both of you in a dark shade. The prince was looming over Lannister, who never looked away from you even as you peeled your eyes away from him with exaggerated difficulty to meet Aemond’s eye. You dropped your smile so slightly that only Aemond could notice. 

There was a tense, awkward silence that lingered. Lannister’s head tilted ever so slightly and a wave of annoyance ran through you at the cocky tilt of his head regardless of the fact that it was exactly what you needed him to do. The two men stared at each other, Aemond’s typical dark repose and Lannister’s challenging chagrin at the disruption. 

“How nice of you to join us, my prince,” you beamed. “Lord Lannister has been sharing this pot of tea with me. It’s lovely to enjoy some company for once.”

You took pleasure in the way he squared his shoulders at your remark. Lannister snickered but was quick to cover it up with a cough at Aemond’s narrowed eye. 

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Aemond’s voice was sharp. “I happen to have some time on my hands before I take Vhagar to flight, lady wife. Perhaps you would care to join me for a stroll through the gardens?”

Aemond was behind you in a blink, tugging your chair back gently into himself and holding a hand out to help you stand. The air around you became soft lavender and leather and something very Aemond. And despite the slight flutter of your eyelids, you straightened and held strong. 

Weakness would get you nowhere. You were out here for a reason and no matter how strong the pull was, your lust to hurt him back was much stronger. 

You shook your head gently, looking at Jason who seemed to stiffen under the prince’s eye. “What kind of host would I be if I were to abandon Lord Lannister? Considering it was I who invited him to tea. We can enjoy the gardens another time, my prince.”

The fire in Aemond’s eye rivalled Vhagar’s. It gave you a sense of satisfaction that was much unlike yourself and you wondered how he’d burn with rage if you decided to take Jason to your bed. You’d lose everything you had to your name but you knew it would not be difficult to convince yourself that it’d be worth it.

Jason Lannister was no fool. He understood the wrath of the Targaryen prince but he knew that you would never be subjected to the extent of it. As much as Prince Aemond pretended he did not care, the Lords and counsellors of the Red Keep knew that he had his weaknesses. At the end of the day, Aemond would not dishonour himself by tarnishing the image of his pious, kind wife who was loved by all. 

Lannister also had his doubts about you. Again, he was no fool to fall for whatever game you were playing. An honourable, devoted Lady such as yourself would never actually be so easy to adulterate. Whatever it was, Jason was not against indulging himself in some fun here and there. 

But he did prefer to keep his limbs and so he shook his head gently and stood from his seat. 

“You have my thanks,” he took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. A bold move from a man who could so strongly feel the Prince’s pointed glare. Jason turned and bowed his head gently towards Aemond. “But I fear I have some business to attend to, so do not stay back on my regard. It was lovely to sit with you, my Lady.”

Aemond scoffed loudly as the Lord took his leave. He waited for you to take his hand to help you out of your seat before dropping it to your waist. 

“My prince-”

“If you are so starved of company, dear wife,” he drawled, looking straight ahead with a tightened jaw as he led you in the direction of the gardens. It was a habit now, whenever Aemond had you on his arm, to walk that route. Not surprising seeing how it was the only place where you two would see each other apart from your chambers. “I would expect you to call upon me rather than some toady Lord who would certainly misjudge your intentions. I am your husband, am I not?”

The thought of keeping a list of the times he spoke as if he were faithful crossed your mind for barely a second. Aemond was infuriating. 

You offered him half of a smile and pulled him back slightly as you came to a stop. “You are. But your mind is never with me and I am well aware your time is far more precious to you than I am.”

If Aemond’s composure was not so ingrained into his existence, he may have spluttered and gawked at you. Instead, he barely frowned. 

There was little he could do about the unemotional, unkind man that he had become perceived as. Aemond understood that it was his own actions that meant people viewed him as little less than a monster. And truly, it was how he tried to be perceived. 

So why did it disturb Aemond that his own wife thought him so uncaring? He knew he had only himself to blame for it. 

“I am afraid a stroll in the gardens will have to wait,” you continued in his silence. Being alone with Aemond was not how you intended to spend the afternoon. The risk that you’d lose your composure and tell him all that you had seen of him was still high. “I am still feeling fairly unwell. It may be better for me to rest in my chambers with a book.”

Aemond knew that you were retracting into yourself, pulling away from him where you would have been at his beck and call only a week ago. He hummed. “Tomorrow then.” 

And with that, Aemond escorted you to your chambers in silence. It was hardly two hours that you had spent in the Courtyard with Lord Lannister but it had been tiring nonetheless. The peace and quiet that came with your reprieve from the man that had set your nerves into a frenzy just at the knowledge of his presence while you pressed at his patience was welcome. 

A few hours passed slowly in your own company. Dinner was brought to your room at your request. The mere thought of sitting beside your husband and putting on a display for his family exhausted you. 

The sounds of footsteps and conversation outside your door pulled your attention from the embroidery you had forced yourself to practise. Your chambers were fairly secluded compared to the rest and so it wasn’t often that anyone wandered this area. Expecting the Queen or your husband to be the source of the noise, you were hastily at the door, a sudden flush of anxiety shooting straight to your gut. 

You waited barely five seconds for Ser Tunsley to knock on your door but your impatience pushed you to step out first. There was nobody there. You could see Ser Tunsley stalking away from the direction of the private chambers. You didn’t question it, assuming he was probably stepping away for a brief break, given that his position hadn’t been replaced. 

Footsteps. Again. 

Curiously turning your head in the direction of the sound, you saw a flash of brunette hair and a dark grey dress. Fuck. 

It was impossible not to recognise her. Even as she walked away from you and clearly in the direction of Prince Aemond’s chambers, you knew who she was. 

So with one final glance back into your room you followed her, thankful that you were barefoot so that your own footsteps couldn’t be heard.  Even though your body was running hot with a mixture of heartache and rage, there was an icy stiffness that had spread from the back of your neck to your shoulders as you rounded a single corner after her and helplessly watched her enter Aemond’s chambers. 

You held back tears. She had left the door open. Again. It did little to ease the knot in your throat when you realised that while she may be good enough for Aemond with her mouth, she was not the smartest.

Unable to move, you stood planted in that one spot a few feet away for what must have been ten minutes before you heard the same shuffling and muffled voices. You could hear her more clearly this time and it took you another two minutes to build the courage to see, once again, how Aemond dishonoured you. 

If the circumstances were different, it may have been one of the sexiest sights you had ever laid your eyes upon. But it struck you in a way you couldn’t have expected and it took all of your willpower to stay standing. 

But what else had you expected?

This time, the woman was sprawled out, her head hanging off of the bed and if her eyes weren’t screwed shut in bliss then she would have been looking directly at you. Her left hand gripped the sheets and the other was tangled amongst Aemond’s silver hair, her thighs on either side of his head. 

Gods, you had never known anything like it. 

Aemond was devouring her like he had been starved of her for weeks (you knew he hadn’t), the obscene sounds of his mouth against her sex striking you with distress. He held her down as she writhed against him, a strong, clothed arm keeping her in place at her waist. 

You had hardly been watching them for thirty seconds and you didn’t even have time to consider turning around and walking away to save yourself the misery. 

Because Aemond’s eye opened and he gazed straight through his lashes, lifting his head so he was looking directly at you. A piercing violet eye accompanied by a glimmering sapphire that watched you dangerously, as if he had seen you standing there the entire time and this was all entertaining to him. 

For what may well have been the tenth time that night, you couldn’t move. You stood at the door, chest heaving and jaw slack as you felt a tightness in your throat. How could you feel so powerless in a game you managed to believe you had the upperhand in? 

Aemond still held your eyes with his own, pulling away from the whore he was toying with, and fucking smirked.  

Like things were going exactly how he had planned. 

Red. And a loud gasp and then panic and a flash of arousal and all of a sudden you were running back to your chambers, falling to your knees over your empty bathtub and dry heaving. It was all too much. 

The shock, the fear, the jealousy, the fear. 

And it dawned on you as you tried desperately to catch your breath. Ignoring your arousal–you cursed your body for reacting faster than your mind once again–panic continued to flood your veins like an ice-cold burn. 

Aemond had definitely seen you watching. But had he known all along? 

It made no sense. Did he see you that night when he moaned your name instead of that damned woman’s? 

You couldn’t even be sure how long Aemond had stared at you from his spot, his attention diverted entirely from the nameless woman, who whined and stirred incessantly at his distraction, to you. Caught like a thief in the act, wide-eyed and dazed.

Aemond knew. And he must have known the entire time. With the way he looked directly to you, as if he were waiting for you. As if Aemond knew exactly where you stood the first night. As if he had finally caught you in his trap.  

He wanted you to see. 

Aemond had already bested you at your own game with even more cleverness than you. Before you had even started to play. 

Sleep did not come easy that night. 

 

You were dressed and ready far earlier than usual the next morning. Even though you dreaded the worst - that Aemond had convened to have you punished for watching as you had, you let your scheme motivate you to take back the control you had lost. If you had ever had it in the first place. 

The dress you wore was hardly decent and it left you bare from your chest up, a wide slit running through the skirts. It was a deep green that had a shine to it and clung to your skin, making it clear that you had foregone your smallclothes for the day. 

For the sake of decency within the hallway, and because you detested the idea of either of the Cloaks at your doors seeing your attire, you donned a heavy cloak over top. It was Aemond’s; he had left it behind after breakfast once.

Aemond was still asleep when you had talked your way past the guard at his door and pushed through the doors to his chambers. You stood at the foot of his bed, tracing the place where that woman lay with your eyes. Quietly, you dropped the cloak to the floor.

It was your first time in Aemond’s private chambers. And would things have been different, you would have taken the time to observe all the things that made this space his. Instead, your eyes scanned every centimetre of every part of his chambers for any trace of that wretched woman. 

There was none. Not a single strand of hair. 

You sat at the edge of his plush bed, taking a moment to get your head straight before you stood and walked around to the side of the bed where he lay. The scent of him was overwhelming as you stood above him. 

“Well,” Aemond barely moved aside from his lips as he spoke. His eye remained shut. “Look who finally figured it out. Why are you here?”

You let out a drawn out sigh, shivering gently. “I would like to talk.”

Aemond sat up lazily and you noticed he was naked save for the sheet that covered his lap. From the way he was sitting, you stood in between his legs and his head was slightly tilted as he looked at you over the swell of your breasts. His hands found a resting place on your hips and you were hyper-aware of his touch, which felt heavier than boulders and hotter than lava. 

He looked at you as if he were ready to devour you. As if Aemond were a man starved of air and you were his only chance at breathing. 

The prince let out a hum. “Dressed like this?”

“Since you seem to prefer a whore over your own wife, I figured I would dress akin to one,” you kept your voice stern and stepped further into him so that his chin almost had to rest in the valley of your breasts if he wished to keep his gaze on yours. “If this is what it will take to have your attention.”

Not once did Aemond’s heated stare falter. “I think you are well aware of where my attention lies. What with your childish attempts at seduction.”

“I did not think you cared to take note.”

“Oh, I noticed,” Aemond said, dragging a finger up and down the side of your waist. He enjoyed the soft feel of the fabric and the way your nipples perked through the dress at his touch had him resisting a primal urge to bite. His patience had been astounding thus far but it was wearing thin. “I would have expected that kind of behaviour from a common whore, not a lady such as yourself. You are a princess, after all.”

Trying your best not to squirm under his touch, you held firm in your hardened gaze. “You seem to enjoy whores.”

“I do not.”

You scoffed. “So you have been fucking her just to spite me? Or have you fallen in love?”

“Such filthy language from such a well behaved girl,” he mused. Aemond’s cursed smirk had you holding back from both cutting him and kissing him. “I never would have guessed that my wife is so full of surprises. It seems I do not know you as well as I believed.”

“Answer my question, Aemond.”

“I never fucked her properly, since you insist–”

“As if it makes a difference whether you fucked her cunt or her mouth,” you spat. He was maddening. “You are my husband. I should be the only woman you have in your bed.”

The grip on your hips tightened almost painfully before he brought one hand up to caress your jaw. Aemond didn’t hide the longing he felt, pulling you closer and admiring every inch of your skin tenderly. “If only you had been good and asked me nicely for what you need. Instead of acting like a desperate slut every time we were in the same space. Things could have been so much easier for you, my love.”

Aemond had always spoken to you with respect. And yet here he was, speaking to you as if he already knew exactly what sent your cunt wild with need. He harshly held your chin, forcing you to look up at the roof as he straightened, pressing his nose into the crevice of your neck. The tickle of his hot breath on your skin made you gasp and you felt the velvet of his lips smirking against your throat. 

“The whole time,” you panted, bringing your hands to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin. “You knew. It was-”

“Hm. It was for you.” Aemond let his teeth graze against the dip of your jaw. 

There was a fire alight on your skin. You could barely make sense of his words but you forced yourself to hold it together. “You are insane.”

“I was only playing the game that you started,” Aemond chuckled. “Only, I have played it far better than you. Perhaps we are lucky that you did not present more of a challenge, considering I was not above taking her on your bed instead.”

Fuck that. You despised him and loved him and lusted for him all at the same time. 

The control you had was slight to begin with but whatever little there was, it was slipping through your fingers. You threaded your fingers through Aemond’s hair–which was silkier than you had expected–and pulled him away from your neck. 

When you saw the hunger for you in his eye, the slight pink flush of his cheeks, a warm flood of invigorating energy made it’s way through your veins. You fought the urge to run your hands down his shoulders, his chest, his bicep–any part of him you could reach. 

You swallowed thickly. “You should have. I need only one more reason to cut her.”

“I shall have her hanged if that is what you wish.” 

For a moment, you thought you might scratch the smug expression off of Aemond’s face. You groaned, pursing your lips at his indifference and squeezing your thighs together at the passion in his eye. “Fuck you, Aemond.”

“I’m going to give you another chance. Ask me nicely to fuck you until all those doubts you have are replaced by the empty space I will fill your pretty little head with,” He pulled at your hips, so that there was no empty space between you, your torso flush to his chest. Aemond felt deathly tense yet strangely relaxed at the feel of you gasping against him. “And we can put an end to this contest. I do regret that I have left you, my wife, unsatisfied but I want you begging first.”

You watched him closely, challenged him with your gaze. There was no chance you would beg and let him win. The air between you was charged with energy, hissing and stinging. It became heavy and despite the way both of you were breathing so heavily, chests rising and falling dramatically, you couldn’t get enough oxygen to fill your lungs. 

The thickness in the air only became heavier as you gripped his wrists, and moved slowly so that you straddled his right thigh. Aemond fisted the thin fabric of your dress and when you lightly pressed your leg against the hardness at his crotch, you felt his steady breath against your lips which lingered above his own. The skirts of your dress rode up to your hips. 

Lavender, leather and him. 

“You want me to ask you nicely, my prince?” You purred, relishing in the way Aemond’s jaw clenched when he felt your bare cunt press against his thigh. It sends a wave of pleasure straight through your body. “You want me to beg you to tear this dress off of me? To fuck me until I can no longer think of any word other than your name? To make me yours properly? Beg you to fuck me how you should have every night since our wedding?”

Aemond’s hands were grasping at the flesh all over your body, pulling at the fabric of your pathetic excuse of a gown until it ripped. There was a weight on his chest that only grew at the sight of your perfect skin through the torn fabric, your nipples slipping into his view. 

His voice was low and guttural. “The final chance. Be good and beg.”

“If you wish for me to be good,” you whispered into his ear, moving hastily to grip the back of his neck with one hand and the other holding his chin tightly as he had held yours minutes ago. He let out a strained sound through his teeth as you shifted against his cock, pretending to get comfortable.  “You should not have indulged in that whore.”

Aemond scowled at you. And he could have thrown you off of him but his hands continued to scorch the skin on your hips.

You realised you had never been so close to Aemond as you pressed a trail of tender kisses to his jaw. You were infinitely closer to him than all the times you had held onto him while walking the gardes or while he had bedded you with feigned disinterest. And you were aching with want and desire just as he was, your wetness seeping onto Aemond’s thigh. 

It was nothing in comparison to the rage that you had pent up. With a gasp you ground down on the strong muscle of his thigh, eyes fluttering at the sensation. Holding back a moan, you rested your forehead against Aemond’s and rocked your hips against him. 

You tightened your legs, well aware that Aemond could overpower you and have you under him in seconds. He was allowing you to have your moment and you pulled your hand from his jaw only for it to stay tightly locked as his fingers dug into your hips.

There would be bruises left on your skin for weeks but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, almost groaning out loud when Aemond took control of your movements, pushing and pulling your hips so that your clit rubbed against him perfectly. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. You think you can just do as you like and that there would be no consequences. That I would come crawling back to you so easily?”

A moan slipped from your lips when Aemond shifted his leg. You knew you were getting carried away, that the power you had over him was getting to your head but fuck. It didn’t matter. 

You dropped your hand to where Aemond’s cock pressed against one of your thighs, touching him gently over the sheet that covered him. It still surprised you just how perfectly big Aemond was, thick and hard in your palm. And then you held him firmly, rocking your weeping cunt against his thigh even harder when he groaned. It sent shock after shock straight through your core.

“Did you think I would be on my knees for you so easily just like she was?” You spat, whining at the pleasure that was incomparable to the way you had been touching yourself. Aemond hissed as you slid your hand up and then back down so slowly. “After those shows you put on for me, there is not a chance.” 

Countermoves. Aemond was good at them, even when struggling to even out his breath and regain his composure. “Tell me, which part did you enjoy the most? Was it when I fucked my seed into her throat? Or when was calling your name?” 

You gripped the back of his neck so hard, pushing your soaked pussy harder onto his leg. “Do not-”

Aemond hummed, his grip tightening painfully on your hips as he moved his leg in motion against you. He smirked when you shuddered, caressing your cheek with his nose as he spoke lowly into your ear once again. “I think I know. It was last night, when I had her on my tongue and thought only of how perfect your desperate little cunt would taste instead.”

“Aemond,” you couldn’t help but moan as he rolled your hips deliciously on his thigh. He let out a small, deep laugh at the way you trembled in his hands but you could hear that he was losing himself just as much as you were. “Gods.”

“I wish to know, princess. How many times have you touched yourself since that night, wishing you were in her place?”

You sucked in a breath, rutting against Aemond violently and he only pulled you in harder when you refused to answer his questions. Another moan. “Be quiet, Aemond.”

“Hm,” Aemond nipped at your earlobe. “Do you really want me to stop talking? You know that I can feel how wet it makes your perfect cunt. Desperate little slut.”

Whining and cursing him under your breath, you let yourself really look at him. Aemond’s sapphire eye shone under the early morning light that spilled in from the windows, his eye dark with lust and his jaw clenching as he watched you fall apart on his lap. 

Hips buckling as he continued to pull you back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness on the soft expanse of his skin, your legs failed to hold your weight and you had clearly resigned to letting Aemond take control of your pleasure. 

You were right at the edge and just as you started to ride out your orgasm, Aemond spoke.

“If you do not beg me,” he threatened. “I shall stop.”

“Gods, no–do not sto-”

Aemond held you still in response and no matter how you writhed against his grip, you couldn’t move. He was keeping you at the tipping point, smirking at the way you were gasping for air and squirming on his lap. But he was in no calmer state himself and you could tell his resolve was about to shatter. 

“Stand up. I want you on the bed,” He demanded. And when you didn’t move, he let go of your hip to lay a stiff smack to your backside. “Now.”

“No.” 

It was almost too easy and you snatched his wrist before he could return it to your hip, moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his leg again now that he only had one hand to try and control you.   

Aemond’s leg was slick and your clit was sliding deliciously across his skin. Fingernails dug into the flesh of your hips and you could feel Aemond’s frustration as he yanked his hand out of yours. But you blindly grasped at it again, shockwaves of white hot pleasure striking you suddenly as you came undone, your forehead falling forward to rest on Aemond’s as you let out a loud, drawn out moan. 

You shook through your orgasm, holding Aemond tightly. His cock throbbed against your thigh and you almost felt bad. 

“You should understand, my prince, if you continue to bring that whore to your bed then I am not above bringing another man to mine.” You struggled to catch your breath and your legs were still trembling as you stood, stepping away to pick up the coat you had dropped to the floor. 

Aemond glowered at you, his glare strong enough to have made you crumble before him were you not so high on adrenaline. 

“You would not dare,” he all but growled. 

“Have I not surprised you enough already, Lord Husband?” 

Aemond stood, the sheet falling to the floor, entirely naked and stiff against his stomach as he watched you don his coat. The anger in his voice only served to spur you on. “You will not leave. You would not dare to leave.”

“I am a princess, after all,” you looked at him over your shoulder, lip caught between your teeth at the sight of him bare, hard and infuriated. There was disbelief written all over his expression. “You will need to work much harder than that if you want me to give in.”

There was something new in the way Aemond looked at you. As if he was impressed. Admiring you, even through his frustration. And without giving yourself the chance for second thoughts, you walked right out Aemond’s chambers with a triumphant smile. 

[puppym3]

Heyyyy, Idk if you were planning on it or not but could you do a part 2 of the seven minutes in heaven thing you wrote about Felix?

⋆˚࿔ seven minutes in heaven 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ (pt. 2)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

lee felix x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, smut, first date, piv, unprotected sex (whats protection atp), rough sex, a lot of overstim (literally 3 times in a row.), oral (f. rec), rip reader, she won't be able to move for days, (lmk if i missed any)

a/n: thank you guys for liking it!! and thank you @jadienoop for suggesting it in my inbox <3 sorry if it was later than you wanted it to be *sniff sniff*, i didn't expect people to actually want one...

anyways guys im getting a little dry on suggestions, so please feel free to leave some for me! idc if you spam-suggest me with things i would actually prefer that a lot

I HOPE YOU ENJOY, i have a taglist if u want to be added!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"So, where are you taking me on our date, Lixie?" You teased as the two of you made your way through the streets.

He gave you a sweet smile and shook his head. "It's a secret."

"Come on, give me a hint," you pleaded, pouting.

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p'.

"Ugh, you're no fun," you grumbled, playfully hitting his arm.

He chuckled and continued leading you through the streets, his hand clasped around yours.

After a few more minutes of walking, he stopped in front of a small restaurant.

"We're here," he announced, a smile on his face.

You looked at him shocked, "I didn't know you meant now, I'm not even prepared properly... my makeup," you pouted, looking up at him.

"You're beautiful, and it's just dinner." He said with a fond smile, squeezing your hand gently.

You couldn't help but smile, his compliment making your heart flutter.

"Now come on, let's go," he said, leading you inside.

The restaurant was small and cozy, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. There were only a few other couples there, and the atmosphere was romantic.

You were surprised that Felix had brought you here. It isn't something you'd expect for a first date.

Felix led you to a table and pulled out your chair, helping you sit down. You couldn't help but smile at his gentlemanly behavior.

"You know, this feels weird." You admitted, giving him a shy smile.

"Why?"

"I'm not sure. I've hung out with you thousands of times, and now we're doing it again... but it's different."

"Different how?" He asked, looking at you curiously.

"Like, we're on a date. And I don't know how to act." You admitted.

He laughed softly and reached over, taking your hand in his.

"You don't have to act any differently. We're just hanging out, like always."

"But we're on a date, you were my best friend a few hours ago," you repeated.

"Yeah, but I've never called you my girlfriend, have I?" He asked, his voice soft.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks and your stomach fluttered at his words.

Girlfriend.

You were his girlfriend now, he was yours, and you were his.

"You're my boyfriend," you tested the words, your voice in a whisper, almost like a realization.

He blushed, and he had the most adorable smile on his face.

"Yes," he whispered, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

"You're mine," you murmured, still not believing it.

"I'm yours," he repeated, his voice full of affection.

You couldn't deny how those words made you feel. It felt like your heart was about to burst, and the heat all over your body was almost unbearable.

"This... is surreal." You breathed out, your eyes scanning his face.

"Good surreal, or bad surreal?" He asked, concern lacing his voice.

"Good. Really, really good," you said, smiling.

"Okay, good. Now let's order, I'm starving." He said, a playful smirk on his lips.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

As the two of you walked out of the restaurant, you couldn't help but admire the way the moonlight reflected off of his blond hair.

"Thanks for the late dinner," you said, smiling up at him.

"Anything for my girlfriend," he teased, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"Stop," you laughed, nudging him, the words undeniably exciting you.

He chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, making your heart skip a beat.

"Ready to go home?" He asked, his tone soft.

As the two of you made your way down the street, Felix's hand found yours, his fingers lacing with yours.

"Hey," he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Hey," you replied, a smile tugging at your lips.

"We're here." He said, stopping in front of his house.

His house was a familiar place to you, where you'd spent so much time.

But now you were going to his house together, alone, as a couple. Wild thoughts couldn't help but run through your head.

As you entered his house, your heart raced, and you slipped off your shoes. A mix of nerves, excitement, and anticipation coursed through you.

"So... what now?" You asked, glancing at him.

"Let's watch a movie or something," he said with a smile.

"But-" you started, catching your breath in your throat.

"Hmm?"

"Can't we... y'know..."

"Do what?" He asked, his brows furrowing.

"Well, you spoiled me, so you have to do the other part now." You said, referring to what you said at the party earlier.

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"You know," you smirked, trailing your hand down his chest. "You said you were going to spoil me and then fuck me. So, do it."

"Mm, I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" You pouted, disappointment washing over you.

"Because," he said, his voice low, "If I do that now, you might not be able to walk tomorrow."

"Fuck," you breathed out, your heart racing.

"So, a movie then?"

You grabbed his hand, leading him to his bedroom.

"No movie." You said, backing up onto his bed as your hands reached to the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head.

"Wait..." he said, his eyes flickering rapidly from your face to your breasts.

"What? I said you were going to spoil me and fuck me, and that's exactly what I want."

He let out a shaky breath and nodded.

"Take off your pants," he commanded.

You obliged, slowly sliding your pants down your legs, revealing your matching underwear.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

He stepped closer and trailed his hands down your body, his fingers brushing over the lace of your bra.

His hands moved lower, resting on the waistband of your panties.

"I can't wait to see all of you," he said, his voice thick with lust.

"Then why don't you?" You asked, your voice shaky.

He leaned down and pressed a hot kiss to your neck, making you gasp.

"Fuck, Lix," you moaned, your head falling back.

His lips trailed down your neck, nipping and sucking, leaving marks.

His hands reached behind you, unhooking your bra.

Your breasts spilled out, your nipples hardening from the cool air.

"You're so pretty," he murmured, his eyes admiring every single part of you.

He took one nipple in his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

"Oh my god," you gasped, arching your back.

His hands roamed over your body, feeling every curve.

He moved lower, trailing his tongue down your stomach, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, sliding them down your legs.

You were completely bare before him, and he couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"You're perfect," he said, his eyes filled with awe. His hot breath ghosted over your inner thigh.

He spread your legs open, revealing your glistening pussy.

He looked like he was in a trance by you, taking his time biting and licking your inner thighs.

You were aching, desperate for his touch, his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

You moaned his name, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Please, Felix," you begged.

He chuckled against your inner thigh, "please what?" He murmured.

"I need you," you said, your voice shaking.

"Please, boyfriend."

The word 'boyfriend' sent shivers down his spine and his cock twitched.

He positioned his head between your thighs, his face right in front of your aching cunt.

You felt his warm breath against your pussy and it made you tremble, the heat almost unbearable.

You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him.

He trailed a finger down your slit, parting your folds.

He dipped his tongue inside you, lapping up your wetness.

You cried out, your grip on his hair tightening.

"Lix!" You gasped. "Please, Lix," you begged, your voice trembling.

He circled his tongue around your clit, before flicking it, the sensation almost enough to make you come undone.

His hands gripped your thighs as he lapped and sucked, your pleasure building, and building.

The knot in your stomach tightening.

The pleasure was too much. It was so much, yet it wasn't enough. You wanted more, you needed more.

Your foot trailed down to the bulge in his jeans, pressing against the hardness.

Felix moaned into your cunt, sending vibrations throughout your body.

"Please, please use this," you pleaded, almost whimpering.

He chuckled softly against you, pulling away with a lewd sound, his eyes locked on yours.

He stood, towering over you and began unbuckling his pants. You felt your core heating, throbbing for him to touch you.

His eyes locked on yours and his pants dropped to the floor.

Felix pulled down his boxers and you felt a shiver run up your spine at the sight of him. His cock was hard and throbbing, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

Felix let out a shaky breath and lowered himself on top of you.

His hardness rubbed against your core, and you couldn't help but let out a gasp.

His eyes locked onto yours. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

You nodded. "Don't stop." You said, your voice shaky.

His hand reached up, his fingers trailing along your lips.

"Can I?"

You nodded, unable to speak.

Felix smiled, and guided his hardness to your entrance, his tip slowly stretching your walls.

The pleasure was unlike anything you had felt before. It was like every nerve was on fire, your entire body burning with pleasure.

Felix let out a shaky breath as he pushed further in. Your walls stretched around his girth and your pleasure grew with each inch.

"Fuck," he murmured, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

The sensation was almost too much for you to take. You were so full, your walls pulsating around his length.

"God, you feel so fucking good," he groaned.

You arched your back as he began thrusting in and out of you, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

Your walls tightened around his length, and your nails dug into his back as he pounded into you.

Felix's hands found yours and laced them with yours. He kissed you as his hips thrusted against your own.

He kissed down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

You gasped, your walls clenching around his length. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your climax building with each thrust.

"Oh my god," you gasped, your toes curling.

"If you cum now, I won't stop," he warned, his hips snapping into yours.

His cock pressed against your g-spot with each thrust, the pressure almost too much.

"I don't care," you gasped. "Please don't stop."

He looked at you as if you were going to regret saying that later, his cock buried deep in you.

Felix pulled back until he was nearly completely out, then slammed his length inside you, his hips snapping against yours.

You moaned loudly, the pleasure almost too much. Your walls clenching around his length as he slammed into you, each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax.

The sensation of his cock stretching you, and his tip rubbing against your sensitive bud was too much for you. You cried out as your orgasm ripped through you, your walls tightening around his length, milking every inch.

The sensation was overwhelming, your toes curling as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, the orgasm hitting you in ways you didn't think was possible.

You writhed and arched your back as Felix continued thrusting into you, each thrust sending you into another state of ecstasy.

You cried out his name in helpless pleas, your nails trailing down his back.

Your walls continued pulsating around his length, squeezing it with every thrust.

The sensation was too much. The pleasure was so intense, you thought you were going to pass out.

Felix's hips continued snapping against yours, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You felt your walls clenching around him and another wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body shuddering with ecstasy.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your mouth opened in a silent cry.

Your legs trembled around him as your second orgasm ripped through you. You writhed against him as your body spasmed from the overstimulation, the pleasure too intense.

Your nails dug into his back as he continued thrusting into you. His eyes locked onto yours, his thrusts becoming harder and faster.

His hand reached between the two of you, his thumb rubbing circles over your sensitive clit.

"No... no, it's too much!" You gasped, tears running down your face as your body shuddered against him. You didn't know how many times he had made you come, but your body couldn't take much more.

"I know, baby," he cooed. "Just once more, okay?"

You nodded, your body trembling from the pleasure. Your walls fluttered around his length, tightening around him.

Felix's thrusts became rougher as he felt your walls tightening around his length, bringing you to the edge of ecstasy once more.

You cried out in pleasure, your back arching off the bed as the pressure built, his cock slamming into you.

You were so close, so, so close. The pleasure was too much for you to bear, it felt like you were going to pass out from the intensity.

Your legs trembled, your toes curling as his thumb rubbed circles on your clit.

"You can do it," Felix urged you, his voice thick with lust.

That's all it took. His words pushed you over the edge, the pressure bursting and your walls tightening around his length, pulsating.

Your vision went white, and your body trembled with ecstasy, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave.

Felix let out a shaky breath, his body shuddering as he released into you, his cum filling you.

He continued thrusting into you as you came down from your high, your body shuddering with aftershocks.

Lying on the bed, completely spent, you felt every muscle in your body ache with satisfaction. Tremors wracked your body, making it difficult to draw in a steady breath.

He devoured you, you felt like all of the energy was just sucked out of you.

He kissed your forehead as he pulled out, his seed spilling out of you, and down your thighs.

He pulled you in close, wrapping his arms around you, "you okay?" he murmured against your skin, kissing you lightly.

You nodded, your body exhausted, you couldn't speak.

He held you in his arms, gently stroking your hair. "You did so well for me," he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

As you drifted into slumber, he tenderly pulled the covers over both of you, enveloping you in warmth. His arms encircled you, his chest radiating comforting heat against your back.

He pulled you close, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

His arms around you felt comforting and safe, his heartbeat steady. A sense of love and contentment enveloped you, filling your heart with warmth and peace.

Felix ran a hand over your back, his fingertips tracing light patterns on your skin.

"I love you," he murmured, his warm breath tickling your neck as he held you close.

You hummed quietly in response, your eyes fluttering shut, exhaustion hitting you in waves.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

taglist for my babies: @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1

[hederasgarden]

Series: Bound - Part 1

Summary: When a dangerous situation pushes you out of the only home you've never known, you take refuge with an unruly pack of wolves. Tyler Owens might not be the alpha you think you want, but he’s the one you need. [Werewolf!Tyler Owens x Human!F!Reader | 2.3K]

Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Magical realism, supernatural themes, violence, and angst. Future chapters will include explicit sexual content  This series will include untagged themes and elements. 

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who patiently helped me write this including @mermaidxatxheart @a-reader-and-a-writer @blue-aconite and @clairewritesandrambles. The beautiful banner was created by @writercole.

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day. 

Masterlist

The rain comes in droves, the wipers on your car barely able to keep up with the deluge. Anxiety grows with every passing second, fear blooming in your chest when you glance in the rearview mirror. You half expect to see lights from another car but the road remains empty. You should be relieved but all you feel is mounting unease as you navigate the winding gravel path. The lack of moonlight makes it hard to see much of anything.

Your hands tremble on the steering wheel, and you grip it tighter, leaning forward to navigate a sharp turn. It's difficult to see beyond the narrow beam of your headlights, and despite the growing sense of panic, you’re forced to follow the winding path slowly. Suddenly, the dense thicket of trees gives way to a large clearing, where a massive wooden cabin stands in the center. Warm light spills through the bay windows onto a wrap-around porch, illuminating a line of rocking chairs.

You cut the engine, but pause with your hand on the door. Coming here seemed like the best option earlier, but now in the moment, your courage flags. You know from experience that lingering too long on that doubt will consume you, and the truth is, there are no other choices. You push the door open and sprint for the porch, the cold rain soaking through your clothes. There hadn’t been time to grab a raincoat when you left home in a hurry. Besides the car and the hastily packed duffle bag in the backseat, you have nothing—no personal belongings, not even the necklace with your mother’s wedding ring.

As soon as your boots hit the bottom step, the front door swings open. A young wolf with shoulder-length brown hair stands there, a bag of chips in hand. He tilts his head, taking in your disheveled and drenched appearance while he pops another chip into his mouth. You can only imagine how you must look to him, a half-drowned human seeking refuge on his porch.

"Hey," he greets. "Can I help you?”

You climb the final two steps and straighten your shoulders, trying to muster some courage. “I need to see Alpha Owens.” You pause and then add, "Please.”

The young man leans in, his nose twitching as he not-so-subtly takes in your scent. "Yeah, sure. Wait here," he instructs, closing the door.

You wrap your arms around yourself, seeking some warmth and comfort. It’s hard not to think about the last time you were here over four years ago with your father when the cabin was still under construction. Back then no one thought much of Tyler Owens and his small, ragtag pack of lone wolves. The Alphas’ council had dismissed them as insignificant and unworthy of attention. In your father’s world, those bitten and not born held little power, and the idea of Tyler becoming an Alpha of a pack seemed improbable at best. 

Despite this, your father kept a semi-friendly relationship with Tyler over the years, mostly because their lands bordered each other. No one, certainly not even your father, could have predicted how Tyler’s pack would grow the way it had or how he’d become a formidable Alpha with exactly the kind of strength you needed now. 

When the door opens again, Tyler stands in the entryway. His honey-blonde hair has grown longer, nearly touching the collar of his shirt, and his sharp jawline is obscured by a light beard. He's dressed casually in a pair of jeans, feet bare. You stare until he clears his throat.

"I’m not sure if you remember me..." you begin, but he interrupts with a smile. 

"I remember you," he says kindly. "I was sorry to hear about your father's passing. He was a good man and a great Alpha."

His words stir up the familiar ache of grief in your chest, threatening to choke off your response. It’s only been four months since you lost your father and you feel adrift without him. A nod is all you can manage for a long moment before you’re able to speak again. “I'm here because I need your help. I need sanctuary."

Tyler’s expression shifts to one of surprise, his brows drawing together in confusion. When he doesn’t speak for a long moment, you hurry to add, “It’s just for the night. I promise I’ll leave in the morning.”

"You need sanctuary from your father's pack?" He questions. 

You shake your head. "It's not his anymore."

Without thinking, you touch the unmarked skin of your throat, and Tyler’s gaze follows the movement. 

“What about Daniel?” Tyler questions. 

"He’s dead.”

Tyler's brow wrinkles, his sharp little "What?" nearly lost as the wind picks up.

Although you were never in love with your father’s chosen heir, Daniel was good and kind. You liked to think those feelings might have come with enough time but that’s impossible now. You should be grieving him too but it's hard to feel much more than numbness and horror when you think of what happened to him. 

“Let’s talk inside," Tyler urges, cupping your elbow to draw you closer as he surveys the darkness behind you, his green eyes flashing golden. Relief washes over you at the invitation.

Inside the foyer you’re overly aware of the wet squelch of your shoes against the hardwood floors and the water dripping from your clothes. The young wolf who greeted you earlier observes from a doorway to your left, exchanging a meaningful look with Tyler that you’re all too familiar with. The nonverbal communication an Alpha could share with their pack was something your father often utilized to dole out commands.

A light touch on your elbow draws your attention back to Tyler, who guides you into a spacious living room filled with couches and mismatched throw rugs. He urges you closer to the fireplace until its comforting warmth reaches you. You stay like that, staring into the flames until Tyler speaks again but when you turn to face him, you realize he’s addressing the young wolf who hands him a towel and steaming mug.

“Thanks, Boone.” 

“Aye, aye captain,” Boone replies, giving his Alpha a sloppy salute before leaving. 

You stare at Tyler, shocked by the casual way the other wolf addressed him. His only response is a raised brow as he offers you the towel. You take it, drying your face and hands. There’s nothing to be done for your clothes. 

“Here,” he directs, hooking his leg around a chair to pull it closer. “Sit.” 

“I’m drenched.”

He quirks a brow. “Sweetheart, it’s a chair, not my grandmother’s hope chest.”

You lower yourself gingerly and accept the mug of tea Tyler presses into your hands. Though you’re not especially thirsty, you take it, finding the warmth that seeps through the ceramic soothing. 

“Tell me what happened,” he encourages.  

“Daniel died three days ago. Sheriff Riggs—” you falter, your eyes darting nervously behind Tyler as if mentioning the man's name might summon him. Your voice trembles as you continue, now barely more than a whisper. “The sheriff says it was a car accident, but h-he—” your voice fizzles out, your throat tightening around the words you want to say.

“You can tell me. Whatever it is.”

You shake your head and look up at the ceiling, fighting to keep the tears at bay. The lump in your throat that’s been there since Daniel died feels like it's choking you. Telling the truth would be a relief but it’s dangerous. To accuse another Alpha without proof….

“I can’t.”

Tyler says your name softly, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Everything about him, from his tone to the expression on his face is gentle and encouraging. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I think… I think Scott had him killed.” The words tumble out before you can stop them, and as soon as they’re spoken, you wish you could take them back.

“Scott?” He repeats, his brows knitting together as he tries to place the name.

"Scott was expected to be my father's heir, until, out of the blue, he chose Daniel a few months ago.”

You never liked Scott, always wary of his ambitious and calculating nature. While most wolves were feared for the beast within, Scott’s human side set him apart. He was cunning and careful. Every move he made seemed designed to advance his own interests, often at the expense of others. You had half-expected him to leave the pack and start his own after being passed over for the coveted position of your father’s second. Instead, he stayed, and now you realize he was biding his time.

“That’s a serious accusation,” Tyler says, his tone guarded.

You shrink back as if trying to distance yourself from the weight of your words. Tyler’s nostrils flare, and you wonder if it’s the acrid tang of your anxiety or the sourness of your fear he smells on you.

“It’s not that I doubt you,” he adds quickly, “but I need to know what makes you think Scott is responsible.”

"Scott was careful not to show it but he was angry my dad chose Daniel.” You take a deep breath, summoning the courage to reveal what you’ve kept to yourself since Sheriff Riggs delivered the news to your pack three days ago. “The official report said Daniel was drunk, but I saw him earlier that night. He was sober.” 

Thinking about the last time you saw Daniel brings a sharp, painful sting to your chest. You didn’t see it at first, too caught up in your grief, but Daniel was the right choice to replace your father, handling things with the same calm confidence as his predecessor. It’s still hard to believe that the man who looked at you with those sweet, hopeful eyes, that promised he would be everything your father envisioned, is dead.

“It’s possible he went out after you saw him,” Tyler suggests. 

You breathe out sharply, shaking your head. “He wouldn’t, not with so much going on. He was a good Alpha. He was focused on the pack."

Tyler seems on the verge of saying something more but then he nods and gives you a soft, “Okay.”

You look away from him, trying to gather your thoughts. You need him to understand, to believe what you’re about to say.

“Scott’s uncle is the sheriff,” you continue. “He was the first to arrive at the scene of the accident. He and Scott have always been close.”

Tyler’s brow furrows as he processes your words. “So you’re saying Riggs might have altered the report?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “All I know is that with Daniel gone, Scott finally has what he’s always wanted—what he believed he was owed.”

“Do you think Scott would hurt you?”

“I don’t think so. He needs me to win over the rest of the pack.”  Scott certainly had his supporters, his uncle chief among them, but your father’s influence ran deep. The pack would expect to see you at the side of the next alpha. “But,” you continue, thinking of what drove you to run tonight, “I don’t think he plans on waiting to make me his mate.”

Tyler’s lip curls in disgust at your unspoken meaning. “You mean he intends to force you.”

“Yes,” you whisper, stomach churning at the idea of being bonded to a man like Scott. Someone who saw you as a means to an end to solidify his own power. Daniel was so different, allowing you time to grieve and adjust after your father’s passing before even broaching the subject. Part of you wonders if he would still be alive if you hadn’t waited to establish your bond— or if he would have just died sooner.

“Well, that’s not going to happen,” Tyler assures you, tilting his head to catch your eye and hold your gaze. “As long as you’re here, you’re safe.”

“You’ll let me stay?” 

You didn’t really think he’d turn you away—after all, that’s why you came to him. Still, there was always a chance. Wolves were loyal to one another. You were painfully human. 

“I’d never turn away a lady in need,” Tyler says with a grin, that easy confidence you remember surfacing before his expression turns serious again. “Will Scott know to look for you here?”

“No. He probably expects me to seek out another Alpha on the council.”

“That’s good,” Tyler says. “But I gotta ask, why did you come to me? Your father has many friends you could have turned to.” 

"They would have sent me back," you explain simply. “Scott’s the new Alpha. In their eyes, I belong with him."

“Well,” Tyler begins, a small grin on his face, “I’m flattered you chose the charming but rogue Alpha over the law-abiding ones.”

His response startles a watery laugh out of you, a foreign feeling after all the grief and fear that’s kept you company these last few months. “I also chose you because my father always respected you.”

“Even when the others didn’t,” Tyler agrees. “I’ll always be thankful for that.”

You share a small, bittersweet smile with him and exhale, your shoulders slumping. Suddenly, you feel exhausted. 

“Now come on, let’s get you out of your wet clothes. In the morning we can figure out what to do.”

“We?” you ask, surprised.

Tyler flashes you a brilliant smile, leaning in close as if sharing a secret. “Didn’t you hear? Our pack is fond of strays. You’re one of us now, sweetheart.”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Away We Go {1}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Autumn has been introduced to the world but there’s something more special for a first appearance: Monaco GP Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, fluff WC: 3.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry || One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go || One || Two

The white noise in the nursery threatened to put you to sleep too but there were still dozens of messages to get through. There had been a constant stream of well wishes to your inbox since the announcement to the world but one had been left on read for three days now and a little rage built each time you reread it.

It didn’t take long for new ‘exclusive’ information to pop up in the gossip pages, along with the photo you had taken and sent to Jos. It wasn’t a surprise at all, but it still hurt to read what he had said. Trusted sources close to Y/N say she is being monitored for Post Natal Depression and Psychosis, as it is no secret she has had trouble with mental health in the past.

“You are lucky, my love,” you whispered to your daughter who slept soundly in your arms. “Your fathers love you so much.”

You carefully stood up from the rocking chair beside her cot but the moment you started to lower her to the mattress she began to stir.

“Already a little arm princess, aren’t you?” you chuckled, settling back into the chair to start rocking again.

You didn’t mind getting these rare moments alone with her, even if you were exhausted from waking up to breastfeed her all through the night. As soon as Charles and Lando finished their Zoom Meetings with their teams they would be stealing her away for their own snuggles. It was safe to say everyone was smitten with her. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. The front door barely closed before another visitor came, and Max had taken up permanent residence on the couch when he wasn’t needed elsewhere.

“Is she sleeping?” P whispered loudly as she stuck her head in the door.

“She is, but you can come in.”

Max trailed in after her having let himself in the apartment with his spare key. Your mother was out grocery shopping again so she could do more baking for the visitors of the day. You had told her she didn’t need to but she was enjoying the company and feeding a small army.

“Have you eaten?” Max asked as he knelt down beside P who gently stroked the blanket Autumn was swaddled in.

“You’re as bad as my mother.”

“I’m just checking. Kel said everyone comes to see the baby but no one asks how the mum is doing. I want to make sure my sister is okay too.”

“Now you’ve done it,” you croaked as you started to cry. “I’m over these damn hormones. I was fine until you arrived.”

Max laughed and rocked side to side. “You’ll get over it. Should we go to the living room or do you like sitting in the dark?”

You accepted his hand and let him pull you to your feet since he had long ago mastered the art of carrying a baby one-handed. “You’re going to have your hands full when Vicki drops.”

“I have two arms. Unless you're planning on having another one right away?”

“Max, I love you, but I will punch you if you ask that again. I am still having to sit on ice pads because no one warned me about the goddamn haemorrhoids-”

“Okay, okay, fuck, stop!” he begged with a disgusted look on his screwed up face. 

Satisfied he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, you went to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water and a juice box for Penelope. 

“So Toto still hasn’t confirmed anyone for Lewis’ seat next year,” you said, passing him one bottle before taking a seat with P. 

“You’ve been talking to him?”

“And others,” you admitted. A few more of the Team Principals had sent their congratulations and the ones with empty seats for 2025 expressed an interest, asking what your plans were. “As soon as my six week check up gets signed off Kristian is going to become my worst nightmare again.”

“Do your boyfriends know that’s your plan?”

You shrugged. It had been spoken about before Autumn was born but they all thought having her in your arms would change your mind about returning to racing. None of the other parents on the grid gave up their careers to grow their families, and while there were still empty seats in the teams you were going to shoot your shot until every last one was taken. 

“Never let them know your next move,” you joked before sobering up and sighing. “Working mums are normal in every other business. Plus, I’m only talking about sim racing this year and if I can impress someone with the data then we can go from there.”

Max nodded along as his eyes traced over Autumn’s features, finding Charles’ dimples when her lips pursed with a soft whimper in her sleep. Penelope had finished her drink and turned all her attention to your daughter, giggling whenever Autumn sucked on her own lip.

“Can I have a baby sister?” she asked Max with bright, hopeful eyes.

“Maybe one day, P. You would make a great big sister.” She grinned at the compliment and snuggled closer until she was half on Max’s lap and holding Autumn too.

Monaco GP

“Ma fifille, tellement belle,” Charles gushed as Lando stepped out of the nursery with Autumn in his arms. She smelt sweet from the baby oil that hydrated her skin and fresh since Lando had changed her diaper before finding the prettiest dress in her closet for her first paddock entrance.

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to sneak her into McLaren gear,” you commented as you packed the baby bag with extra supplies for the day. Gone were the days of arriving at the paddock with just your phone, now there were a million things to remember since no one wanted to try to return home with the insane traffic that came with the road closures for the Monaco race.

“I hid them all,” Charles confessed with a sly smile before stealing a kiss from Lando’s pouting lips. “If she can’t wear Ferrari then she definitely isn’t wearing McLaren, mon cher.”

“One day when you are at Maranello…” Lando warned with a wink.

“You can finish this squabble later, we have a whole camera crew waiting outside.” The tone wasn’t quite as light as you hoped and it drew the attention of both of them straight to you. The joking smiles fell and Lando lay Autumn in her stroller and clipped in the buckles with a frown. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

“You only gave birth four weeks ago, love, it’s okay if you’re not ready to go to the track yet.”

“We wouldn’t be upset if you watched from here,” Charles added.

“It’s Monaco and I am fine, just a little nervous.” Your blasé shrug didn’t fool either of them.

“Of what?”

Charles took over rocking the stroller back and forth so Lando could pull you into his arms. The warmth and security of his embrace was always enough to spill whatever was on your mind.

“The crowd, the cameras, your fans - take your pick.” You looked down at your clothes. They weren’t the designer dresses the other women would wear to the paddock but the maternity jeans and breastfeeding friendly shirt were tidy enough. You couldn’t help noticing the pouch where your belly sagged like a deflated balloon.

“Hey,” Lando murmured, catching your chin with his finger and guiding your head back up to face him. “Do we need to remind you how beautiful we think you are? I don’t mind being late. Charles?”

“I am more than happy to take a penalty.”

You chuckled at the enthusiasm but shook your head. “I would love nothing more than to drag you both back to the bedroom but save it for the six week sign off, you horny devils.”

“We can still show you how sexy we find you without fucking you,” Lando whispered in your ear and Charles’ eyes darkened at the little catch in your breathing.

“Don’t tempt me, but there’s still the problem of the camera crew outside and you’d be on your own explaining to them why we were late.”

“Mon amour, that is the man who asked Stroll if he could wank after breaking his wrists. Would you really trust him with that task?”

“I mean…I would find it funny. Zak might blow a gasket though,” you admitted with a grin. Feeling a bit more at ease after a laugh, you stepped out of Lando’s arms and took a steadying breath. “I’m going to grab a hoodie and we can go.”

Neither commented as you hid your body in an oversized Quadrant hoodie despite the summer heat but you barely made it halfway down the street before you asked Charles if you could push the stroller. There were too many people and too many screams for autographs that your heart started to beat erratically and your breath burned in your lungs.

“Are you okay?” Charles asked, ignoring the people beyond the security team that surrounded your group.

“Let her push, Charles,” Lando urged as he saw a sight he was familiar with in the mirror. It was rare for him in recent years now that he had you and Charles but he could remember the feeling of being out of control and the panic that came with it.

You grabbed the handlebar of the stroller and held on with a death grip in case someone broke through the security guards and knocked into it. Your knuckles changed colour from how tight you handled it and your legs pumped faster with the urge to get to the track and inside the walls of a team hospitality.

From the corner of your eye a shadow slipped through the bodies and your elbow flew out as your mind went straight to the worst case scenario. Was it an overzealous fan wanting a picture or a fanatic wanting to hurt your family?

“Ow, zusje, what the fuck?” Max asked as he rubbed at his ribs.

“Jesus Christ, Max, what are you doing? Don’t jump out at me like that.”

“She’s a little on edge right now,” Charles said quietly, acutely aware of all the cameras pointed their way.

“I can see that. Is it the crowd? Do you want me to call in reinforcements?”

Charles shook his head and walked quicker to catch back up to you. “We would probably be there by the time anyone came.”

Lactic acid burned your calves and reminded you just how hard you were going to have to work to get back to your pre-baby fitness but it felt good too. It brought you back to yourself in a way you had forgotten since becoming a mother and the endorphins from the exercise began to relax your body and mind.

Your pace began to slow and Lando smiled proudly like you had won a world championship. “Now can I hold your hand, love?”

You shifted your hold to the centre of the handlebar so you could still navigate the stroller and placed your hand in his. “Thank you,” you murmured as he kissed your knuckles.

“I would tell you not to worry but I don’t think it will make a difference,” he replied between waving to his fans.

“Aren’t you worried? There’s so many things that could go wrong.”

Lando stopped and turned with a serious look on his face that was only softened by the untamed curl that fell over his brow. “Of course I’m worried too, babe, this is our family and Autumn is the most precious part of it. But, I have to trust that we have done enough to protect her and you and Charles,” he said with a wave towards the security guards. “Do you remember how nervous you were before your first race? You could barely keep your food down and Pierre thought you were actually going to pass out during the Anthem.”

You rolled your eyes but a small smile leaked through. “Don’t remind me.”

“I would have caught you.”

“You were six inches shorter than me.”

Lando stood straighter and looked down at you. “That’s beside the point, I’ve more than made up for it now.”

“Yes, you have,” you said with a wink. “Much more than six inches.”

Charles interrupted the appreciative gaze you dragged over your boyfriend’s body. “Will you two please behave?”

A devilish smirk grew on Lando’s face. “Never, but I will go and sign some autographs before I get in more trouble.”

“Is it me or is he even more cocky?”

“Winning does that to a guy.”

Charles scoffed and curled an arm around your waist. “I will have to remind him what second place feels like, it’s my turn to win Monaco.”

Max laughed, reminding you that he was still there as you approached the paddock gates. “Half the grid thinks the same thing.”

“Well they have a chance with you starting P2,” you teased your brother before grinning at Charles who took pole position. “Take that chequered flag.”

You scanned your ID and the pass for Autumn too as everyone else did and clustered together on the other side again.

“Where are you going to be watching from?” Max asked as you approached his hospitality first.

“Homeboys box, but Toto wants a word so I’ll take bub there first.”

Max looked like he wanted to say something but his name was called out from his team waiting by the dark blue entrance. Instead he stepped forward and kissed your cheek before kissing Autumn’s and tickling her toes. “Tot zeins, mooi meisje.”

“She’s going to speak Dutch before me at this rate,” you complained as he walked away, still not knowing what he said to her.

“Learn quicker then.”

You threw him the middle finger that made him laugh before he disappeared and then it was your turn to say goodbye. Mercedes was the next garage followed by Ferrari then McLaren.

“We will see you before the race,” you promised as you unbuckled Autumn from her stroller and held her to your chest. The garages were tight enough as it was without trying to fit the pram inside too. “Say bye-bye daddy,” you said with a wave of Autumn’s little hand as she woke from her nap. “Love you.”

Charles and Lando both kissed her cheeks and said their goodbye before you received your own chaste kiss on the lips. “Call us if you need anything, I will keep my phone with me,” Charles promised before stepping away.

“Same, and these guys are going with you too,” Lando said with a nod to the security shadowing your sides. Your entourage joined you in Mercedes but thankfully took a wider perimeter since there was a fairly strict policy in who could enter the garages. Toto didn’t seem to mind the additions since you came bearing a pretty great gift.

“You are a beautiful time waster,” he said sweetly as he cradled Autumn to his chest. “I have work to do, little lady, yes, I do, but I’m not ready to hand you over, no, I am not.”

“I get the feeling that Jack will be getting a sibling soon enough,” you said to Lewis who swung back and forth on his chair with his headphones half on his head.

“I don’t think it’s Toto that needs convincing,” he said with a laugh. “It’s not his career that goes on hold, you know that.”

“I never would have said it before, but she’s worth it,” you admitted. “Still not sold on doing it again though, got one more championship to win.”

“I know that feeling,” he said wistfully. “Charles had better bring her to Maranello too.”

“I don’t think much work would get done if she was there,” you pointed out. “And like you said, you have a championship to win.”

Autumn suddenly decided that she was starving and started to cry as she nuzzled into Toto’s shirt and you laughed as you got up to retrieve her. “Sorry, bub, there’s no milk in those titties,” you teased as you picked her up. “Is there somewhere I can feed her?”

Toto looked around and shrugged. “Wherever you’re comfortable. There’s rooms down the hall if you want.”

“I’ve learned it’s not about my own comfort.”

“If anyone’s got a problem they are free to leave,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear and return to their work.

You took your seat again beside Lewis and unzipped the discrete opening on your shirt before unclipping the small window on your bra.

“Come on, man, she’s just trying to feed her baby. Get those cameras out of here,” Lewis said as he blocked the lens and started to herd the Netflix crew back out of the garage.

It had taken a week of trial and error before mastering the art of latching but now you had a routine and Autumn quickly fell back to sleep despite trying to keep her awake. Lando had joked he would sleep better if that was his routine too, at least you thought he was joking.

“Can you hold her please?”

Lewis didn’t need to be asked, he had been patiently waiting his turn since you walked in the garage. He even knew to draw soothing circles and pat her back to bring up her wind. “There’s those famous Uncle skills you bragged about.”

“Told you, I’m just down the road if you guys want a babysitter for date night.”

“I might take you up on that in a few weeks.” You looked over to Toto who was speaking to Bono and jutted your chin his way. “Has he mentioned anything about who’s in line for your seat?”

“Nothing set in stone, just lots of talk - or at least that’s what he told me.”

“Fair enough, you’re the enemy now,” you teased.

“Netflix is going to love this season. Did you see Nando re-signed?”

“Mhmm, I sent him a pot plant and instructions to wipe the floor with Lance. I think he’s taken it on board.” Fernando already had nearly four times as many points in the driver championship so far and you expected that to increase after the race.

“There’s rumours Lance is going to WEC next year, maybe there'll be another seat opening.”

“Fuck that,” you scoffed. “If I get a seat it’s going to be with a team that has some sense of loyalty. I’m sick of being dropped like a hot potato the second anything goes wrong. I’m desperate, but not that desperate.”

Lewis was about to be called for the driver parade and you realised just how quickly time had passed. “I should let you finish your rituals, we still have a few stops to make before the race.”

He handed Autumn back and gave you a hug. “Don’t lose that glow stressing about getting a seat, mama, enjoy your time with this little beauty. Che sarà, sarà.”

“Practising Italian already, huh?” you teased as you buckled Autumn into the stroller where she promptly fell asleep after the movement disturbed her. “I will keep your wise words in mind.”

The paddock was quieter as you made your way down the line of garages. Most guests would already be in the viewing spaces above the pit lane to watch the drivers parade so there weren’t many people for security to part.

“Ma’am,” the head guard called as he stood in front of an imposing suited figure. “He wants a word.”

You nodded your head and he moved to let the man through. “I’m kind of running late, Lawrence.”

“I just want to say congratulations,” your old boss said as he looked into the stroller and removed his sunglasses. “She’s very cute, you must be proud.”

“You could have sent a text message.”

Lawrence sighed at the frosty tone. “In hindsight things may have been handled a little callously but you should understand it was for your own good. This isn’t an office job that can be worked while pregnant, it would have been irresponsible as an employer.”

“I understand that, it was the fact you fired me without even talking to me first - I had to find out through the tabloids - and before that the way you let your son get away with treating his team is actually despicable.”

Lawrence pulled a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned his glasses as he stared off into the distance. “You’re not wrong, but we are working on his attitude and behaviour - discreetly.”

You raised an eyebrow but he wasn’t going to share anything further, instead he took one last look at Autumn and put the aviators back on his nose. Maybe there was some weight behind the rumours.

“Hopefully we’ll see you back on the grid at some point. You were one hell of a racer.”

“Am, Mr Stroll,” you corrected as you turned the brake off the pram. “I am one hell of a racer.”

Click here for the next part.

[rkvriki]

— things they only share with you !

hey everyone, new post here !

make sure to leave feedback . my asks are open and so is my inbox so let's talk!!

WARNINGS ! mentions of taking a shower together, but that it; might contain grammar error.

word count: 1.9k

LEE HEESEUNG !

— his gaming pc

you were over at enha’s dorm since you were spending a few day’s there.

you and heeseung were currently in the living room, while he played with niki and jake on the tv and you were sitting besides him scrolling through your phone.

you have been like that for a while and you started getting bored and since you didn’t wanna disturb the game you tried to think of something to do.

something came to your mind and you asked something that seemed to shock the other guys.

“hee, can i play for a little bit on your pc?” 

“yeah of course angel!”

jake and niki turned their heads to you, their eyes widening.

“...what?” you asked, looking at them.

“i literally asked heeseung to play league on his pc yesterday and he almost ripped my head off.” niki told you making you smile.

“yeah, because you’re not her.” heeseung said, rolling his eyes.

“girlfriend privilege is real after all.” jake 

PARK JONGSEONG !

— his clothes

all the guys planned a dinner where they all took their partners.

so you and jay were now walking down the street towards the restaurant they had booked a table.

“i think this is it.” jay said, opening the door for you.

“ladies first!” he said acting like a gentleman making you laugh and playfully rolling your eyes at his silliness.

as you entered you spotted the boys and started walking towards them, sitting on the two seats that were left.

“you’re late. again.” jungwon told you guys, making you wince.

“yep, sorry bout that, won.” you told the younger boy smiling at him apologetically. 

“wait a minute…” heeseung started. all people at the table looked at him.

“is that… jay’s prada jacket?”

“um… yeah?” you said confused at his puzzled expression. heeseung playfully scoffed.

“oh my god, heeseung. don't even start.” jay said and you looked at him not understanding.

“so you let your girlfriend borrow it but not your dear bandmate? unbelievable!" you started laughing at heeseung.

“yeah but she’s my girl and you, thankfully, are not.”

“word!”

SIM JAEYUN !

— layla

ok obviously you can’t borrow an animal but you’ll see what i mean.

you woke up this morning and saw the weather was sunny and warm so an idea popped in your mind.

you texted jake and asked if you could take layla on a walk, to which he agreed right away.

he trusted you with layla alone and that meant a lot to you.

you went to pick her up at his house while he was at practice and started walking without a destination in mind.

you decided to go to han river and stay there for a while with her and watch as she played with other dogs.

you picked up her toy ball and started playing with her.

“layla, catch!” you threw the ball watching and she ran following it and jumping to catch it. you smiled at the view, enjoying the sunny weather and flowery scenery, picking up your phone to take a picture of the wholesome moment.

when the sun started to set, you decided to take her back to jake’s house, knowing he was there along with jungwon.

arriving at his house you rang the bell wrong for him to answer.

“hey, baby.” jake said, greeting you with a long peck, making layla bark.

you unleashed layla and got in, going to the kitchen where the boys were.

jungwon looked at you with layla by your side, you smiled and greeted him.

“were you with layla today?” he asked, raising a brow.

“yeah, why? went on a walk with her.” you said petting her head.

“i can’t believe you jake. i feel so betrayed.” jungwon said dramatically.

“what? i’m not catching.” jake said, confused.

“i literally asked you two days ago if i could take layla on a play date with maeum and you refused and almost blocked my number.” jungwon said, making jake shrug.

“it’s not fair! we are bros!” jungwon said.

“and she’s my girlfriend.” jake said and went to do something else in his room.

jungwon looked at you and you just shrugged apologetically.

PARK SUNGHOON !

— his jewelry

sunghoon and you were just hanging out in his room at the dorm talking about random things.

jay came into the room and you both looked at him.

“hey sunghoon, you know that dior ring you bought back in LA?”

“yeah, what about it?” sunghoon said, sitting up in the bed, already annoyed at him for ruining your precious time.

“ i was wondering if you could maybe let me borrow it for today’s dinner?” jay said, giving him a toothy smile and attempting to give him puppy eyes.

“yeah, no.”

“why not?”

“because… um no.”

“oh come on, just this once, hoon.” jay said, begging him, making you hold back your laugh.

“i said no, jay.”

“give me a valid reason then.”

“y/n’s already gonna wear it for the dinner.” sunghoon said and you stopped smiling, turning your head to him with a confused expression, making him kick you under the blankets. 

“sorry jay, i already claimed it.” you told him, smiling at him with a pitiful look.

jay rolled his eyes and turned to go away.

“whatever.”

“sunghoon, why did you do that?” you said, hitting his arm, scolding him.

“i have my priorities straight, princess.” sunghoon told you, smirking at you while you rolled your eyes, but still smiled.

KIM SUNOO !

— his skin care products

you and sunoo were having your weekly sleepover and you just finished taking a shower together. 

you put on your matching pajama sets and sunoo went into the kitchen to grab some snacks while you started doing your skin care routine using sunoo’s products.

before starting, you grabbed sunoo’s small speaker and connected it to your phone playing a random playlist.

you put on a headband sunoo had gifted you with bunny ears, using it to keep all the hairs away from your face.

you started your routine doing all the steps carefully, making sure to not use too much product since they were your boyfriend’s.

as you were moisturizing your face, sunghoon came into the room.

“ hey have you seen sun- what are you doing?” sunghoon said, looking at you with wide eyes as if you were gonna die.

“im… doing my skin care?” you told him with a puzzled expression, starting to get worried you did something wrong.

“you know what happens when you touch sunoo’s skin care right?” 

“i mean i’ve always used it since I come over often.” as you said that sunoo came into the room.

“sunghoon stop being jealous that i let my girlfriend use my forbidden possessions.” sunoo said, patting the older boy on the back.

“you almost punch us when we come close to touching your products, but she can do it?” sunghoon said, putting his hand on his chest, faking betrayal.

“go away before i break your pretty nose, please.” 

sunghoon sighed and went away.

“what was that?” you asked sunoo laughing at what just happened.

“you would never understand.”

YANG JUNGWON !

— his phone

you were at the boys dorm and you were all hanging out in the living room, just talking and playing around with each other.

the boys were just talking about random things that happened while they were away for tour, telling all the funny stories, making everyone laugh.

“i need to go to the bathroom.” jungwon said, getting up to leave.

“then there was this time where niki was doing a really funny impression of jay. it was so accurate.” jake said, making everyone laugh as they remembered the moment.

“i think jungwon recorded it on his phone, not sure tho.” heeseung said, making you get up and grabbing jungwon’s phone that was sitting in the table.

“i can check it here quickly.” as you said that, everyone suddenly went quiet and started looking at you shocked.

you unlocked jungwon’s phone and went through his gallery.

“wha. how did you even-” jay said, not believing what he saw.

“what?” you said looking at them and seeing their faces.

“you know his password. no, wait, you can pick up his phone?”

“yeah? why couldn't i?" you asked them, confusion covering your face.

“because won never let’s anyone touch his phone, let alone go through his gallery.” heeseung explained but you still didn’t understand.

“does he? i mean he even put my face recognition on his phone and asks me to send anyone texts, so i don’t think there’s a problem?” you told them trying to take away their confusion.

“oh god, i can’t- i mean it was kinda predictable.” jake said, not as surprised as before.

jungwon came back and saw everyone silent and looking at you.

“did i miss anything?” he asked, getting as confused as everyone.

“no, not really.” heeseung said. “just thought no one could touch your phone.”

jungwon looked at you and saw you with his phone.

“yeah, you can’t, she can, not a big deal.” he said sitting back next to you, as everyone scoffed and rolled their eyes.

“anyways jungwon.”

NISHIMURA RIKI !

— his choreographies

niki called you today, telling you he had something he had to show you at the dance studio, so you were heading to hybe’s building.

you got in and greeted the receptionist that was already familiar to you, so she let you up.

“he’s at the studio on the 5th floor.” she informed you, smiling tightly at you as you silently thanked her while bowing.

you went on the elevator and clicked the button to the 5th floor.

the ride was familiar, since niki always showed you and only you the choreographies he was working on, trusting your feedback the most, even if you didn’t understand anything about dancing.

you walked the corridor, greeting staff you were already familiar with.

you reached the dance studio and opened the door, hearing music loudly blasting from the speakers, which just meant he was dancing and working on the choreography.

you quietly entered the room, trying not to bother him.

you put your things down and sat on the floor, watching niki, as he performed the moves smoothly.

you loved watching dance niki, you thought nobody did it like he did. it was visible how passionate he was while dancing, specially if he was dancing something he created himself.

the song ended and you started clapping and he finally noticed you, running to you with open arms. you got up and embraced him, pecking his lips, letting yours linger for a while.

“you were doing so well, baby.” you told him with a proud smile, making his cheeks get a soft pink tint. he hides his face in your neck, mumbling a small thank you.

he pulled away and looked at you in the eyes.

“you know i only show you my choreographies. not even the boys know about them until they are finished. i trust you that much.” you smiled at him pecking his cheeks, feeling butterflies in your tummy and your heart doing flips.

“i know, riki. thank you for trusting me. i love you.”

“ i love you too, angel.”

a/n: how did you like this one? hope you enjoued it as much as i did !! give me your feedback, my inbox is open !!

[storm-angel989]

🎀IM SORRY FOR BLOWING UP YOUR INBOX! But Val/Vox(idrc which one) x Anorexic Daughter Reader?🎀

PLEASE READ BEFOREHAND

Hi Friend,

You’re not blowing up my inbox- I keep every request in a google doc and when inspo hits I work on it! If I ever decide I won’t do a request I won’t just delete it- I’ll post and say it directly <3 

Preface for this work:

 I’m considered a plus sized equestrian/plus sized human. Eating disorders come in all shapes, sizes and issues. I believe it’s Blythe Barid who said “If you develop an eating disorder when you are already thin to begin with you go to the hospital. If you develop an eating disorder when you are not thin to begin with, you are a success story.”

Stories like these are based on my own experiences and issues- and on this topic, I’ve had quite a few. Please remember that all bodies are worthy of love and respect, care and concern. It's a tough concept to wrap our heads around, and admittedly I still struggle with it. 

A little background info: 

ED’s are a huge part of my writing that I haven’t published. Ana and Mia are characters I have created (or maybe my own food issues created them). Either way, they’re  separate entities for separate stories- demons that I imagine have their own place in hell as well as in my writings (all of which have been in existence far longer than Hazbin). That being said, naming your ED is something I did and I have done. Even for the purpose of writing this story, the entire thing felt wrong without Ana running the behind the scenes. 

With this one I tried to pain the pain, the anger and frustration behind that never feeling good enough feeling. I would be open to doing part two if folks would be interested. Please also know I’ve written on this topic in several other forms if you explore my masterlist (or I can directly send you the links if you PM me). 

<3 Mandy 

I stepped on the bathroom scale and looked at the number that flashed below. The words of my coach echoed in my mind- I needed to lose the summer weight, or else I would be benched for the rest of the season. She had helpfully provided me with a journal to keep track of my weight, what I ate in a day, activities I did and how many calories I burned in accordance with my VoxTech watch. 

A month ago, I had met her goal, thus ending the weekly weigh-ins. According to her, I had lost enough weight to maintain my place on the team. It was on me now to make sure that I maintained that weight, or lost more. In her exact words, you could never be too skinny. 

“Bebita? Breakfast,” my fathers voice called from the hallway. “Come on, before it gets cold.”

The number told me I hadn’t gained weight, but I hadn’t lost weight either. I picked my backpack up and slung it over my shoulder. 

“Sorry, Dad! I’m late! I’ll eat at school, I promise,” I answered back as I rushed out the door. 

Surely skipping breakfast wouldn’t hurt. 

Skipping breakfast turned into skipping lunch. Skipping lunch turned into avoiding dinner. Sugar free jello and skinny pop became my go to snacks as the numbers in my book slowly but surely began to get smaller. Somewhere, a little voice inside my head began to cheer my successes on the scale. Over time, I learned that she had a name. 

Ana. My secret diet partner. My invisible cheerleader. The willpower I needed to keep going on the hardest days. And most importantly, someone who paid attention to me, 

With each passing day, Ana grew louder. She encouraged me to keep my diet a secret from my family. After all, they wouldn’t understand. Pleasing her, it became almost like an addiction- a game I played with myself to see just how little I could become. Food became nothing more than numbers, an obsession that consumed every minute, every second of my thoughts and desires. 

In my household, it wasn’t hard to keep it to myself. Hell, one could argue that I wasn’t technically even keeping it a secret. My father had a very important job, after all. And my Auntie Velvette and Uncle Vox also wouldn’t have had the opportunity to make the connection. A quick, I ate earlier, sorry! And I got off scott free. Ana cheered with each no thank you I uttered. My head between my knees after practice had become a ritualistic practice. Waiting for the black spots to fade, taking deep breaths to try to regain the energy to stand up and walk out to the awaiting limo. It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting at home for me anyway. 

On the daily, I kept a careful eye on my voxtech watch. The first time my blood sugar dropped, I got a call from Vox. Paniced waves rushed through me. A suggestion from Ana to bribe to a friendly tech demon. A brief trade later, I had constant vitals being sent from my watch, my real ones hidden behind a password. With this newfound freedom, outside of homework and practice, my time normally devoted to hobbies or hanging out with friends became time to sleep. After all, I was working on the perfect body. I needed my rest. 

For almost six months, Ana and I were best friends. 

Saturday morning. Game day. One of the busiest days for my father. After all, lust and depravity raked through the weekends like wildfire. Or at least, that was what he claimed. I stood in front of the mirror trying desperately to tighten the drawstring 

“Hey bebita?” I heard my fathers voice call from the hallway. “Baby, are you up?”

“Yeah, Dad. I have a game today,” I snapped as I tied another knot in the string. 

Why the fuck wouldn’t these stupid shorts stay up? I fumed to myself. Every part of my body ached, and even yanking on my shorts sent black spots and exhaustion rushing through my body. I leaned my head against the mirror and tried to take a deep breath. I could do this. I had to do this. 

The next thing I heard was my fathers voice, felt his hand shaking my shoulder. It took every ounce of energy to open my eyes. 

“Bebita? Reader, can you hear me?” Valentino asked frantically. “Princessa, wake up, now!”

“I’m fine,” I muttered as loudly as I could. Somehow, I managed to push myself upright. 

“You most certainly are not fine,” he replied sharply. “I’m taking you downstairs to the doctor, right now.”

Doctor. That meant I would miss the game. No, I had an obligation to my teammates. Somewhere in my head, Ana screamed.

Get up, fatass!

You really want to fuck this up for everyone?

You better not let him take you to the doctor, you do that and you’ll never find perfection. 

“I’m fine,” I growled, louder this time. I pulled myself to my feet and black spots dotted my vision. I felt my fathers arms around me and in seconds, I was off the floor and in his arms.

“Put me down, I can walk,” I tried to yell. Inside my head, Ana screamed louder, demands and insults about my current predicament. I pressed my hands to my head and curled my fingers in my hair, “Dad let me down NOW!” 

He ignored me as he carried me down the hallway. 

“Vox? Velvette? Both of you, with me. Now. We have a problem.” He said loudly. 

“Woah, what’s going….” Vox’s voice began. 

I shoved my hand against my father as he walked through the living room.  To my relief, he set me down on the couch. 

“What?” I snarled as three sets of eyes stared at me. “What the fuck are you looking at?” 

Vox checked his phone and then walked over to me. With one finger, he lifted off my Voxtech watch. 

“Hey! Give that back!” I demanded. “I’m going to be late to my game!”

All three of them ignored me. Wordlessly, Velvette walked away and returned moments later, bathroom scale in hand. She set it infront of the couch and gave me a hard look. 

“Step on.” 

“Fuck you,” I snapped as I stood up. I tried to ignore the black spots that danced just out of sight. “My weight is none of your fucking business.”

“Reader!” Valentino said in dismay. “That’s no way to talk to your Aunt.”

“I’m leaving, I’m already late. Thanks, Dad,” I continued sarcastically as I kicked the scale aside. 

Inside, Ana cheered. I bent down to pick up my backpack and the world around me spun. Three steps,  and Vox’s hand gripped my upper arm. The last thing I heard was Ana’s voice screaming indistinguishable words. 

When I came to again, I found myself in a room of gray and blue. Wires stuck out from my chest, and I tried to cough and spit the feeling of something painful in the back of my throat. I tried to reach up, to shove my fingers down my throat, and my skin met padded white cuffs. 

What the fuck?

You’re going to have to work hard to get yourself out of this one, Ana taunted. Great job getting caught, fatass. 

“Hey, baby, it’s alright, Papi is here,” I heard my father’s voice say somewhere far away. 

“Mr. Valentino, I promise we’ll be in touch when she’s more stable,” a new voice said. “For now, it might be best to give her some space to…”

Indistinguishable arguments. My fathers refusal and reminder of who exactly was in charge here. My Uncle Vox and Aunt Velvette chiming in, a mix of talking him down and agreement. 

Panic shot through me as the haze slowly began to wear away. Realization. Through the fog, only one word came to mind. 

Fuck.

[bluewatersfairy]

distraction - j.p.

a/n: this one's for everyone in my inbox, I see all your messages and I love y'all 😭

synopsis: late night studying very quickly turned into needing a distraction which may come in the form of a fwb!

warnings: mature content, MINORS DNI! unprotected sex (wrap it, then tap it), dom!reader, sub!jordan if you squint lots

word count: 2.6k (writing under 3k is crazy for me)

p.s. it's been ages since I've written something in one night so I genuinely have had no time to consider if this is good or not (oh and this is not proof read)

•••

“You sounded urgent on the phone?” Jordan inquired as you opened the door and grabbed his arm to pull him inside.  He’d come over in record time, but it still wasn’t quick enough.  

“It is urgent,” you said, putting your hands on his waist and pushing him to sit on your couch.  “Have you had sex with anyone recently?”

Your hands were in your hair, carefully moving it to be so it wasn’t in the way.  Jordan stared up at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips sitting pouted.  “What do you mean?”

“It’s a yes or no,” you said, lowering to your knees in front of him, “answer me.”  You braced your hands on his thighs and for the first time actually looked him in the eyes since he’d arrived.  He’d clearly picked up on your rush and desperation, you could see a familiar sparkle in his eyes, but he still looked deeply confused. 

“I haven’t,” he breathed out slowly, “just you.”  He gave you a little half smirk and watched as you stood again, sliding into his lap with ease.

His hands immediately went to grip at your hips and you carefully took his glasses off, popping them on the foot stool that was by the arm of the couch.  He watched you attentively, waiting for you to be face to face with him again.  

“Rough day?” he asked as you ran your hand up his neck to cup his face.  You let your thumb brush over his bottom lip and the two of you held eye contact.  His eyes not so subtly glanced between your eyes and your lips, his mind wandering off at the sight of your gloss.  He couldn’t tell if that was what smelt so good or if it was just you. 

“If I stare at my assignment any longer, my head might explode.”  You tilted his head slightly and waited to see if he was going to give you any type of resistance or if he was just along for the ride.  You took a few moments to look over his face and compose yourself.  Less than a minute ago he’d knocked on your apartment door and now you were straddling him on your couch.  A lot can happen in 60 seconds.

“I like being your distraction,” he smirked before you leant forward and connected your lips with his.  

He met your greedy kiss with the same type of energy straight away, his mouth opening and letting you take control of him.  It was rushed and hot, desperation dripping off of you.  It felt like the first time all over again, like you weren’t quite sure where to put your hands or what part of him you wanted to feel most.  You loved his lips on yours but they could do so much damage wherever they landed.  He just knew what to do to drive you insane and as much as that was what you wanted, you needed control.

You pushed on his shoulder as you tried to get some leverage on him and without meaning to, rocked your hips on top of his.  He let out a strangled moan and your lips broke away from one another.  His arms wrapped around your torso and he buried his face in your neck.  The tip of his nose rubbed against the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck while his lips sloppily kissed and grabbed at you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned out as you pressed your hips against his again, “you smell so good.”

You weren’t sure if it was what he said or his hot breath on your neck but you needed more contact with him.  Your hand went back to his neck and you pushed his head back again.  He leant against the back of the couch and seemingly waited for you to kiss him again.  

“Take your hoodie off,” you sat back on his lap as you spoke, “shirt too.”

Jordan didn’t make a move straight away so instead you pulled your shirt off.  He had this look on his face that almost looked like admiration, it didn’t really make sense considering, but once your shirt was gone he was pulling his hoodie off over his head.  He lifted his knees slightly and pulled you closer to him.  His hand reached for the back of your bra while he danced his lips across your chest. 

“You’re in a mood today,” he mumbled against your collarbone before he let his teeth playfully nip your smooth skin, “I like it.”

You rolled your eyes as he undid your bra and let the straps fall down your arms before tossing it away with the rest of your clothes.  You went to say something about how you really didn’t care what he liked but instead were cut off by his lips attaching to your nipple and his large hands palming your tits.  

“Shit,” you sighed, “I don’t have all night, J.  I got deadlines.”  He groaned with your tit still in his mouth before pulling away.  You took the chance to lift yourself up to pull the pair of NRL shorts you had on down and Jordan awkwardly pulled his grey sweats off by only lifting his hips off of the couch.  

“I need a second,” Jordan took a breath as you sat down on his lap again.  He could feel the heat radiating from your core and it was making his heart race.  But his hard-on had barely had time to grow, a lot was happening very quickly and he felt like he physically wasn’t at the same place he was mentally.

Knowing Jordan, you spat on your hand and reached under you to pick up his shaft and kissed him again.  You licked into his mouth and slowly rubbed your hand against his dick.  He let out quiet moans into your mouth and you tried to pull him closer to you.  His hands gripped on your ass and thighs and he melted into you.  

“Is that enough?” you asked breathlessly between a few soft pecks.  Jordan nodded quickly and you let your thumb brush over his tip, collecting the precum he had started to leak.  

You smiled at him and popped your thumb in your mouth, tasting him before reaching between the two of you again.  

“You don’t need anything?” Jordan asked as you lined his cock up with your opening, “it feels weird not going down on you.”

“Shut up,” you said half playfully as you pushed his face back again.  He laughed a little and the two of you shared a smile before you lowered your hips on to him, “you’re a giver, a real gentleman, we get it.”  

Sinking on top of him gave you a rush like no other.  The slight curve of his tip meant that he always managed to drag against your g-spot when you were on top.  It was the easiest way for you to get off and that was part of why it was your favourite way to have Jordan.  Not to mention the face time you got meant that the two of you were forced to connect with one another emotionally, not just physically.  It was a nice arrangement, it felt right, in the weirdest way. 

“God, you feel good baby,” you smiled at Jordan as you braced your hands on his broad shoulders.  

Jordan almost missed what you’d said.  He had his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed and seemed to be really concentrating.  And he was.  Over and over again in his head he was repeating the same words: don’t bust quick.  This wasn’t the first time he’d been inside of you without protection, but it had been a few weeks since the two of you had hooked up and feeling how wet and hot you were was not helping his case.  You were paradise, but he was here for you and had to at least try and last a decent amount of time before he let go.

“God damn,” he cussed when his eyes met yours, “I might just be infatuated with you after all this.”

“Oh you best be,’ you grinned as you leant up to kiss him again.  It was just a quick peck, but Jordan made it clear he was expecting more.  “Quiet now, Pretty boy, I’m tryna do something.”  

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you pulled your hips up, feeling him drag against your walls before pushing yourself back down again.  The first few times were more to feel him, you wanted it to be nice and slow just to drive him a little bit crazy.  It was clearly working too, he was hissy in your ear and gripping your hips tight, though he made no move to take over.

Once your speed picked up, he offered some assistance but you were completely in control.  You moved your body against him, feeling every inch of his dick and getting lost in the sounds you were pulling out of him.  The air was thick with your arousal and the sounds of your ass against his thighs.  

“Oh my god,” you called out loudly as you felt his head twitch inside you.  You paused your hips and gripped Jordan’s shoulders again, digging your nails into his skin, before you rolled your hips to get some traction for you.  

“I’m not gonna cum,” Jordan choked out, his head leaning back and his eyes focused on the ceiling.  You smirked and rolled your hips again which sent a jolt through his body.  “I’m not ruining this for you baby, just give me a second.”

You giggled a little and rolled your hips again, seeing the exact same reaction from him, “you’re not ruining anything honey,” you cooed.  He made eye contact with you briefly but that sent another jolt through his body and he pulled his eyes back to the ceiling.  

“If you wanna cum you can,” you said sweetly, your lips leaning down to kiss his heaving chest.  You dragged your lips up his pecs and left opened mouthed kisses trailing up to his neck.  “Nothing’s stopping me tonight.”  

Very carefully you sucked the skin below his ear lobe, pulling a throaty groan from him.  You only pulled away when you were sure you’d left a little mark and blew cool air on it.  You’d always wanted to leave your mark on him, a part of you interested to see how the internet would react and the other feeling proud that you could get a big name like Jordan Poole acting like a lost boy.    

“You’re a fucking problem,” he groaned as your eyes connected again, his moment of weakness clearly having passed.

“You thought this was gonna be easy?” you teased with a smile.  He reacted by smacking your ass before tightening his grip on your hips.

Again, you pulled yourself up and started to rock against him at a steady rhythm.  Your words had seemingly relaxed Jordan and he was just gonna let whatever happen.  It was just about you now and you accepted that with a smile.

Feeling him twitch against your walls sent hot flashes throughout your body.  Your g-spot was being stimulated more and more with each passing moment.  You hadn’t noticed but the heat coming off of his raging tip added an extra sensation to your experience.  Usually at a time like this you’d pull away from whoever and get them to play with your clit or you’d do it yourself, but this was a better feeling.  You were getting wetter the more you worked to get it just right.

“I’m about to cum,” you let out between pants and you adjusted your legs quickly to make it easier to go quicker.  The new angle put your tits in Jordan’s face and he immediately started to give them attention, driving you closer to the edge.

“Your clit,” Jordan suddenly said between movements, “does it need-shit.”  He cut himself off as something like lightning struck through him again.  

“Cum inside me J,” you encouraged, your own head being thrown back as you moved quickly.  You were burning up and were hyper aware of his every touch.  He’d never finished inside before but it felt like the right moment, you didn’t want to part ways with him and you wanted to feel him come undone.  

“Gah, are you sure?” his puppy dog eyes found yours for a second, he needed proper confirmation.

“You’re not allowed to pull out,” you argued back, “shit, shit, shit.”

You pushed Jordan’s shoulders back again and used every instinct you had to ride on top of him.  He spurted out a loud string of cuss words and inaudible claims as he let his head fall back against the couch.  You felt him twitch inside and waves of heat flow through you.  The sounds coming from your bodies was becoming louder, wetter, and you knew you were almost there.  You changed your movements slightly so there was more friction in your movements and you knew you were done.

“You look so fucking good right now,” Jordan choked out, “you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”

Even in his fucked-out blissful state, Jordan found your clit blindly and fumbled to rub it just to give you a little more stimulation.  He knew it was what was going to send you over and like magic, your name was falling from his lips mixed with loud moans.  You came on top of him, your sex mixing with his and making more of a mess between your thighs.  You rode out your high, your body arching and legs fighting to stay open.

After the final jolt, you let yourself relax against Jordan’s chest.  You could hear his heart beating rapidly and it made you laugh a little.  You weren’t sure how long you sat there with him still inside you.  It was definitely longer than the time it took for him to walk in your front door for you to get him naked.  

“When’s your deadline?” he asked, breaking the silence and pulling you out of your little dreamworld.

“Tomorrow morning at 9am,” you replied, glancing at the clock behind him.  “Why?”

He checked his own watch quickly before brushing some of your hair out of your face, “I’m stickin’ around until everything’s done.  Just in case you need this again, or someone to talk to.”

Someone to talk to, that was how this whole situationship had started up.  One night he’d just been around past midnight and suddenly you were making out with him, and then you were naked, and then he was asking where you keep your condoms.  Life comes at you fast sometimes.  

“I guess you can stick around, you’ve probably got clothes here anyways.”  You kissed him quickly and smiled before carefully standing up, still on the couch.  Unexpectedly, Jordan gave your hand a kiss before helping you get down safely.  You pulled him up and the two of you walked to the bathroom, grabbing a few cloths from your linen cupboard along the way. 

“You should be like that more often,” Jordan commented from the shower while you were sitting on the toilet.  He was just turning the hot water on when you made eye contact with him.

“Like what?”

“Y’know,” he smirked, “in charge.  It’s hot, I like it.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up from the toilet, checking to make sure you weren’t going to leak anymore if you put on a clean pair of pj pants.  

“I’m going back to my assignment,” you said after washing your hands, “I’ll call on you if I need another distraction.”

“I’ll be ready,” he smirked and saluted you before you stepped out, pulling the door closed behind you. 

[dixons-sunshine]

i requested for scud but you never replied so im gonna req gf finding out scud works for a blade again

Apologies, Baby | Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Summary: Long ago, back when you were only ten years old, vampires murdered your parents and left you an orphan, forcing you into foster care. You hated the species with a passion, and wanted nothing to do with them. So when your boyfriend revealed that he was working for a half-breed, you didn't know how to feel.

Genre: Angst, some fluff towards the end.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death and blood.

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: For some reason your first request never popped up in my inbox, so I'm sorry I didn't see it back then. I hope this is somewhat decent enough to make up for it (I don't really like this). Also, I feel like Scud is a little ooc in this, but I wanted to write a tender moment for our favourite stoner.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Baby, could you please just listen to me? It's not like you think, okay?”

You shook your head and let out a bitter laugh, clutching your side tightly as you limped away from your boyfriend. Bruises littered your skin, the recent vampire attack you had found yourself in taking its painful toll on you.

Everything was a blur. One minute, you were walking back to your apartment after a long shift at work. The next, some creep in a mask—later revealed to be a bloodsucking monster—grabbed you and forced you into his car. And a few hours, maybe even days, later, a mysterious man with freakish abilities came to your rescue. Thankfully, the vampire hadn't bit you, but he did take great pleasure in hearing your screams, so he tortured you. Hence the injured side you were currently clutching to.

You had always known of vampires' existence. They were the reason you became an orphan at the mere age of ten years old. And to top it off, nobody believed you when you told them the real story. They were the reason why you were sent to a facility to treat your "absurd beliefs".

You hated vampires and anything to do with them. So it came as a great shock to you that when the mysterious man, who had introduced himself as Blade, took you back to his workshop to tend to your wounds and you found your boyfriend there. The same boyfriend who told you that he was too sick to hang out after your shift. The same boyfriend who lied to you about his job. The same boyfriend who revealed that he was working for a guy who was half vampire.

To say you were pissed would be an understatement.

Scud hurried to you, gently but firmly grabbing your wrist in his hand. He spun you around, forcing you to look at him. His blue eyes gazed down at you, begging, pleading for understanding. For you to listen to him.

“Babe, please. Just... let me clean you up while I explain everything. You deserve that much,” Scud begged, frowning deeply as guilt swarmed around in his beautiful blue eyes.

You shook your head. “Josh, I—”

“Please,” he pleaded. “Just... Please.”

You sighed, giving him a reluctant nod. “Alright,” you agreed, pulling your hand from his grip. “You have until I'm bandaged up.”

In no time at all, you were seated on top of what you assumed was Scud's workbench while your boyfriend carefully helped you out of your shirt, leaving you clad in only your bra. The wound on your side was deep, but it luckily didn't look like it needed stitches.

“You probably want that explanation now, huh?” he asked, breaking the silence well he brought a washcloth with lukewarm water closer to clean your wound.

You hissed in pain when the cloth made contact with your side. “Yeah,” you said through gritted teeth. “I was promised an explanation.”

A few beats of silence passed. Scud sighed and shut his eyes momentarily, as if gathering his thoughts. “You remember that week before we got together, when I came home from my hiking trip and I was all messed up?” When you nodded, he continued. “I was attacked by two bloodsuckers. They tore into me and wanted to drain me of my blood. The only reason I came out of that situation alive was because B saved me. He brought me back here and patched me back together. I owe him a debt because of that.”

You frowned and brought a hand to rest on Scud's cheek. He instantly nuzzled against your hand, sighing in content at the warm feeling. You didn't know this, but when Blade had relayed your full name to him over the radio, he was out of his mind with worry. He nearly abandoned everything just to go after Blade and make sure that he brought you back in one piece. You were important to him. You were the only girl who would put up with him and his habits with a smile on your face. You were the only girl that actually ever meant anything to him.

“B saw what I could do, what gadgets I could make, and he decided that I would make a great addition to his team, so to speak,” Scud continued, withdrawing from your touch and switching over to clean the wounds on your hands. “It was a great opportunity for me. This gig meant that I could make things, and not just those shitty fucking mini flamethrowers I made back in college. I mean actually make things. I felt wanted, needed, like I could actually be a part of something bigger for once. That I wouldn't be such a big fucking letdown. I wanted to tell you, especially since I know how you feel about vampires, but B swore me to secrecy. He said that working for him came with risks, and if the bloodsuckers were to find out about you, they would use you to get to me. I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't.”

“So you had to lie to me to keep me safe,” you concluded, realisation dawning on you.

“Please believe me when I say that I didn't want to,” he said hurriedly, halting his movements with the bandage and looking deeply into your eyes. “I never wanted to lie to you. Hurting you was something I didn't want to do, ever. I love you so much.”

A minute of silence passed between you. Scud was anxious, his hands nervously fidgeting with the bandage that was now wrapped securely around your hand. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate him. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

“So this Blade guy... He hunts vampires?” you finally asked, taking him by surprise.

“Yeah,” Scud confirmed, nodding his head.

“Why? Isn't he like them?”

“Yes, in a sense. He has all of their abilities, but only the good ones. The only bad thing of his is that he inherited their thirst. Thankfully we have a serum that helps him with that. B's cool, I swear.”

You pondered over his words for a moment before letting out a small sigh. “I don't like it,” you began, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer, much to Scud's suprise and great delight. “You know how I feel about vampires, but that Blade guy did save my life, so I guess he's okay.”

Scud gave you a smile. “He is, I promise you.”

“So as long as you promise me that you'll stay safe, and promise to keep me in the loop with what happens around here, I guess I can learn to live with it. You look like you're enjoying yourself.”

Scud smiled brightly and brought you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “I love you.”

“I love you too. You're my little stoner baby. Nothing's gonna change that.”

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Fernando/Lance

you might enjoy: Canadian Fest, eh - for more Lance content.

If your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and I will remove it immediately, no questions asked. I have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop me a message🤍

have a pairing you want me to do next? please read the faqs and then head to my inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

i won't lie to you, anon... I thought we'd agreed on Strollonso as the pairing name. 🤭 my vote still goes to Lando.

i hope you enjoy these ❗️🤍

nsfw: El Dick Plan by @waddlingpenguin | E | 800 Lawrence and Fernando have a misunderstanding at the dinner table. This fic is hilarious - unashamedly unhinged, just as Strollonso should be, and so unbelievably funny. This was one of the first Lance/Fernando fics I read. I think it rearranged my brain a little bit.

'In fact, Lance literally has his foot so far up Fernando’s pant leg that Stoffel is surprised he’s not choking on Canadian toes each time he opens his mouth to talk to the engineers.'

shatter my life apart (see me for somebody else) by @vicsy | M | 1.4k An exploration of Lance and Fernando's relationship. This is a stunning fic. This author has just the most beautiful writing style - it's like poetry, and flows in the most stunning way. This is as much a love letter to Lance as it is to Strollonso - I really, really loved this one.

'Fernando Alonso is a perpetual wildcard and Lance builds his attitude around this little image, prepared for some sort of psychological warfare but it never happens.'

nsfw: victor's spoil by venerat | E | 1.9k Following Fernando's first pole for Aston Martin, Lance is invited to his room - a Winner's Room AU. The vibes here are suitably unhinged/rancid/possessive. If I were to recommend a fic to help someone get Strollonso, to understand the essence of who they are together, I would recommend this one. I love everything this author writes.

'Imagining Fernando with them makes Lance want to chew through wire. Again: fucked up, truly and extensively. He’s just really fucked up about Fernando.'

nsfw: I make two grand an hour by @kritischetheologie | E | 3.1k Lance meets Fernando for the first time at a sponsor event. I adored this fic. It is so funny and well-characterised and hot. One thing that I really love about this author is their ability to weave in detail - you could read their fics over and over again, and still pick up something new each and every time. It just makes for the richest, most delicious stories that draw you in every last time.

'(Lance had almost just said fuck it and gone into banking when he graduated two years ago, like he’d always known he probably would eventually, ever since the day he showed up at St. Andrews and realized that the entire world economy ran on fake numbers on a half-dozen computer screens, but the whole point of trust funds was supposed to be not having to be boring. Who the fuck else was going to make art? Humanity needed him to be living dramatically, falling in love with a thousand beautiful men whose lips he could immortalize in poetry.)'

nsfw: green light, red wine (and i don't feel fine) by @vicsy | E | 9k (wip) Fernando is a crime boss caught in a long-standing feud with Lawrence Stroll - things get complicated when he meets Lance. This fic is fantastic. The vibes are unmatched. This author has such a beautiful, almost melodic writing style, which I love. Also. This is fucking hot. 10/10.

'There aren’t many opportunities Fernando deliberately missed in his life. He wouldn’t be on top if he did. Right next to him, clad in a tight white t-shirt, sits an opportunity for a power move, the one Fernando would take all the way.'

nsfw: silver platter by @wewentcarracing | E | 9.7k Lance and Fernando grow closer, much to Esteban's dismay. This is delicious. Full of unhinged and intense moments. Every word of this is perfection; something I particularly appreciate about this author is their ability to build tension - you won't be able to put this story down once you've started it. Perfection.

'Lance laughs, off-guard and delighted. Fernando has this way of deciding what's true in his own mind and then forcing it into reality with brute strength alone. He's decided that Lance will make it to the podium this year, and so he will. It feels so, so good to hear coming from another driver—any driver, really, but the fact that it’s Fernando. Two-time WDC. Veteran. It doesn't feel like he's being toyed with; it feels real.'

nsfw: Not Even Jail by @baldrmoon | E | 9.9k (wip) Lance is a rookie detective with a new partner - they've met before. This is such a fantastic start to what I know is going to be an incredible story. The world-building here is fantastic. A world away from F1, but with so many of the dynamics and relationships mirrored in a totally new setting that feels very organic and true-to-life. It's just very well done, and I am excited to see what the author does next!

'Lance was charmed almost despite himself. The guy – Fernando, Lance made a mental correction, – smiled, a bit sideways, narrowing his eyes. Lance immediately felt flustered under his intense stare.'

[usmsgutterson]

I want a love like the movies- give me a trope/character dynamic from this list, a song (or a specific lyric from a song that you want me to base it off of, or even a poem, anything that is seen as art is acceptable here) and a time of day. I’ll use that to write a fic with a minimum of 1k words. 

kaz brekker with 29 (from the list) anddddd almost by hozier?? idk first song to pop into my head haha

Love- K.B x gn! reader

okay, this is the last of your requests and it's coming out on my official two year fic-iversary! I posted my first ever fic on maliciousbrekker two years ago to the day, and it's been a wonderfully wild ride in things ever since! No regrets with anything I've done here, honestly!

As for requests generally speaking, the goal is to have at least one more coming out over the weekend! My two year anniversary requests are taking precedent right now because I've been demotivated and haven't posted many of them, but after the two year anniversary requests are done, I'll go through my inbox and decide what I want to write vs what I don't and then I'll proceed and hopefully my requests will be open again by the date in my bio!

The prompt you chose was: reader/writer

Fic type- this is fluff!

Warnings-Kaz is probably a little ooc

"You and your books," Kaz observed as he came into your place. You lived in a flat not too far from the Barrel, one that was simultaneously within walking distance of the Crow Club and the Slat as well as Wylan and Jespers place.

You'd bought it to own it with a portion of your money from the ice court, spruced it up to your liking and saved a room to turn into a library. Bookshelves lined the walls, covered in every book you owned and organized to your preference.

You'd bought a desk for Kaz to use, and within it were countless heist plans, countless letters to Nina, Matthias, and Inej, and even a couple of the journals that Kaz had bought two years before but had only begun using in the weeks after the Ice Court job had been completed.

"I have my books and you have your heists, love," you said, shrugging as Kaz sat at the opposite end of the velvety couch you'd kept in the sitting room. "Everyone has their vices."

"How is it?" Kaz asked. You jabbed at each other for your hobbies occasionally, poked fun and delighted in the sounds of scoffs that eventually turned into barely amused laughter, but in the end, you cared about the other persons hobbies, too.

No matter how much you may have poked fun at Kaz and his love for unlined leatherback journals, for the expensive ink he purchased from a Fabrikator near the heart of the city, you always bought him the ink when you noticed he was running low before he did.

You bought him new leather journals when you saw one that he might've liked in a windowsil and bought him ones engraved as a gift on his birthday or during the holidays.

And, in turn, Kaz did the same. He bought you books from the authors you loved whenever he'd heard that a new one was releasing, took your most beloved books to a book binder when the covers were wearing out and the spines needed re-gluing.

He asked how you liked the books you were reading when he noticed you were reading a different one, bought you the books that your eyes lingered on whenever you'd see something in a bookshop window.

"It's good," you said. "How're the heist plans coming?"

"Decently enough," he responded. "A hundred thousand kruge per person on a seven person crew, if you're in?"

You grinned as you closed your book, looking at the cover for a moment.

"How convenient it is that you ask me to join you on a heist when the book I'm reading involves one."

"Is that your way of saying yes?"

You shot him a look, and he nodded. "Yeah. It's your way of saying yes."

You watched him stand, heading for your office, a pen, and one of his journals.

"Love you!" You called after him. You heard Kaz's amused laughter in response and smiled to yourself.

He didn't need to say it back for you to know he loved you in turn. If anything, he'd likely be the one to turn down the lamps and blow out the low-burning candles when he was done planning the heist he'd asked you in on.

He'd be the one to find you with a book in your lap, having told yourself "just one more chapter" even as your eyes were drooping and sleep was on its way

[fablesrose]

Season 3

Ch 19 - The Jailhouse Job

Series Rewrite Masterlist 

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: Nate is now in jail for the stunt he pulled last season saving the team. Despite this, he still finds a job in taking down his warden.

Words: 7.7k

A/n: Hey guys, sorry this took so long. This summer has been busier and more stressful than I had anticipated with work, trying to figure out my physical health, and a number of other factors in regards to my future. Unfortunately I am still under a lot of stress, so I'm unsure how regular updates will be, but I'm hoping to post once or twice a month for now. I've been so touched by the support coming through and the desire for this series to continue and I am so thankful for all of you, I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I stared at my laptop sitting on the coffee table in my living room. Over the past month that Nate has been in jail awaiting trial, I have been contemplating what my next steps should be. When I started working with the team full time, I had temporarily shut down my socials and suspended my website for freelancing. Still, I had a somewhat regular stream of repeat clients asking if I had any project openings. Thus far I had simply told them that no, I didn’t have any openings and possibly even pointing them to possible alternative freelancers that I had worked with previously and thought they did a good job. 

Did I take it back up again? Was this last job with the mayor and Nate going to jail the sign that I needed that this was the time to walk away? If it was, could I really follow through? Or was I so deep into this already, in too deep with the team, too deep into crime, in too deep for Eliot, that I wouldn’t be able to get out until the whole world fell apart?

And so, I just started at my laptop. At my emails, sitting in my inbox. They might as well have been collecting dust. I sat, thinking about everything and nothing at all. 

I wasn’t sure how long I had been there when a knock came to my door. 

“It’s open,” I called, remembering that I hadn’t locked the door when Sophie came and went earlier today to check on me. 

I didn’t move from my spot, staring at my laptop. It felt as if my eyes were glued to the spot, that pulling my gaze away would be painful, or at least physically difficult. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” The deep voice floated to my ears, one that I wouldn’t forget. It somehow pulled my eyes from where they were nailed in front of me towards the door where Eliot stepped through carefully. 

“Hey,” I said softly in reply. 

“How’re you holding up?” He stepped around the furniture till he found a chair he liked near where I was sitting. 

I sighed, “Okay. Those first two weeks I was so stressed that I don’t remember much, to be completely honest. Now I’m just tired and trying to figure out what to do next.”

He tilted his head a fraction, “Like what? What to cook for dinner in the next day or two or…”

I huffed, “More like what to do with my life.”

Eliot’s brow furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean? You’re gonna stay with us right? Help us break Nate out of prison?”

My lips curled into a small, but sad, smile, “Do you guys even still want me around when Nate’s not here?”

He scoffed, “Are you kidding? Of course we do. Didn’t you hear Nate on that boat? We’re family. To be honest sweetheart, I think we all like you better anyway.”

My smile cracked into a wider one, “Really?”

“Really.”

We just sat looking at each other for a few moments before my eyes dropped to my hands for a moment, “So, uh, where you just popping by to check on me or…”

He coughed, “Uh, actually I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, uh, remember the job we did in LA? With the two David statues?”

I raised an eyebrow in confusion, “Where I met you and helped with my first job? That happened well over a year ago? Yeah, what about it?”

He agreed that we were thinking of the same event and stuttered over his words a bit, trying to figure out how to articulate what he wanted. Eventually he said, “I just… I wanted to let you know that I’m glad I met you and inadvertently pulled you into the job.”

This conversation felt like it was getting deeper and more heartfelt with every exchange, and I wasn’t sure if I liked it. It was nice, in an uncomfortable kind of way and I knew he meant well, but I couldn’t stop myself from lightening the mood a bit with a more awkward angle. “You mean that you’re glad Maggie brought me along on your date?”

 Blush rose across his face and scrunched in what seemed like disappointment, “It was Nate’s idea. For the record, I would have rather taken you out on a date, but Maggie had the museum access.”

That stopped me in my tracks and it was my turn for blush to spread across my face and surely my neck and ears. I wasn’t sure what to reply, so I didn’t even try. 

Eliot seemed to register what he said, and quickly changed the subject, “Besides that, we kind of came up with a plan to break Nate out. Sophie is heading to the jail and is going to tell him. Do you wanna come over and listen in?”

I could still feel my heart racing, but this was a good excuse to get out and escape the hypnotizing gaze of my laptop. And if it got Nate out of prison and the team back to rockin’ and rollin’? Then it was a double or even triple win in my book. 

We crossed the hall to Nate’s apartment where the team has continued to meet up and use as their - our? - headquarters. I had been unsure of how I felt being in there with Nate being in jail so I hadn’t come over very often. Hardison did make another upgrade to the room with a tall desk facing the screens placed behind the couch wide enough to fit all of us. 

When we walked in Sophie had begun explaining the plan to break Nate out. Hardison was somehow channeling the conversation through the speakers like a phone call so everyone could hear and had the security footage on the screen so we could watch. Sophie and Nate were separated by some sort of plexiglass as they chatted from the prison phone booths. I had gone a couple of times to visit him so I was somewhat familiar with the room. It all seemed performative, the glass walls for some sort of privacy, the plastic phones to talk through even though you could still hear through the glass. All for the illusion of separation.

From what I gathered of the plan, we would have to break him out directly after his hearing at the courthouse. Eliot would take out any FBI agents and guards on the outside. Parker would be waiting in the elevator shaft to do the actual breaking out of the cuffs and his guards. The rest of us are on distraction and misdirection duty until we can all load up and drive away. 

“No,” Nate said when he heard it. 

“No!?” Sophie replied. 

“Uh… no,” he repeated. 

“What do you mean no?”

“It’s a horrible plan. None of it times out, and there’s no way you can get to the car that fast,” Nate explained. 

“Ah, but you’d have to admit, it’d be a lot more dramatically satisfying if I’m the one driving the getaway car.”

I shrugged in partial agreement to the both of them. The way Sophie explained the plan was for her to meet Nate right when he came out of his courtroom, putting her behind him in getting out of the building. Nate was right, where it would be impossible for her to be driving the car to pick them up (the way she described it), but she was right that it would bring a full circle moment to the operation.

“You know they record these calls,” Nate whispered, as if it would help. Sophie raised a cellphone at him that was plugged into the wall next to the prison phone she was talking to him through.

“I created a carrier signal for our conversation,” Hardison explained, “But I’m dumping another conversation onto the prison recording system.”

“Spanish soap opera?” Eliot asked as he passed a beer to Hardison and my drink of choice to me. 

“Oh yeah, check it out man. Look, it turns out Pepe’s twin brother Peppi is actually Guadalupe’s baby’s daddy.” Hardison explained the plot he was transmitting to the recording system. 

“You seriously keep up with that?” I asked. I could vaguely hear it in the background of his systems. 

Hardison shrugged at me. 

“Is this thing two way?” I asked him. 

“It can be, you wanna say hi?”

I casually nodded. Once he gave me the go ahead I said, “Hi Nate.”

He startled a bit on the camera feed when he heard my voice, “Hey Birdie.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “You didn’t have a hand in that plan, did you? Because I would expect better from you.”

Sophie looked a little offended in the camera feed. 

I laughed, “No, I haven’t had any involvement in anything until just now.”

“What have you been doing the past couple of weeks, then?”

I rolled my eyes, “having an existential crisis over what to do with my life. Do I go back to boring normalness or risk following your footsteps and landing in prison with you? Any advice? How’s the food? And the beds?” I said the last half sarcastically, but the first statement was very much true and I tried not to show it. At least, not too much. 

Nate chose not to answer me verbally, but I watched as he twisted around in his chair until he found the camera pointed at him and Sophie and gave it a pointed glare. 

“Hey,” I said flippantly, “you chose this. Don’t kill me for asking.”

Behind me, Parker walked in with a large duffle. 

“He don’t want to do it,” Eliot told her. 

“Aw, but I love jumping down elevators,” she reacted. 

“I know,” Hardison validated. 

“This is my special elevator rig he got me for Christmas,” Parker said as he put down the large bag. 

“Alright, look, Nate, you took the fall for us,” Eliot began. 

“After you lied to us!” Hardison cut in, “He’s a liar.”

“You took the fall for us.” Eliot continued, “You went to jail so we wouldn’t have to. We get that, so we’re square. But now, you’ve got to let us get you out of prison.”

“But if we’re gonna do that…” Parker added. 

“And not all of us are convinced that we should,” Hardison also added which earned an raised eyebrow from me. 

“Then we have to hit you at your next hearing,” Parker finished her thought. “That prison’s escape-proof.”

“Okay, you know what? Fine, Nate,” Hardison said. “We’re still out here, we’re doing the job. We help people nobody else helps. That’s important. You want to stay around and miss out just because you gotta figure out your guilty conscience, that’s your loss.”

Nate began to respond with his nervous ‘I’m explaining’ laugh when Hardison turn

“Guys, no.” Nate said firmly. He then spoke slowly, as if spelling it out for us, “I committed a crime, I got caught, now I’m going to serve my time.”

“Boo,” I said as I took a sip of my drink. “Can’t we live by the spirit of the law, not the letter?”

“And what law would make this okay?” Eliot asked skeptically.

I shrugged, “I don’t know, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?”

“That sounds right,” Parker said, somewhat helpfully. 

“Nate,” Sophie said pointedly. “What kind of world would it be if everyone who committed a silly little crime went to prison, huh? Complete madness!”

Those of us in the office shared a baffled look. While I was being somewhat contrary, it was clear that Sophie actually believed what she said. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. 

“Did you get the kielbasa?” Sophie asked. 

Nate nodded and held up a packaged sausage with a bow on it, “yeah.”

“There’s an earbud inside,” she explained with a dramatic wink that I could see through the fuzzy camera. 

“Now listen to me,” Nate doubled down, “in no way, shape, or form are you going to break me out of this prison. Understood?”ed his screens and programs off, cutting off the call.

“What a burn,” I said to the quiet room. 

Eliot approached me, “Sorry about bringing you over here, that wasn’t how I thought that was gonna go.”

I shrugged, “I’ll admit, it stings a little, but that’s not your fault. You can never tell what Nate’s gonna do. Besides, you didn’t bring me very far and I got a drink out of it.” I raised my drink and Eliot tapped his beer against it. 

“To whatever future you choose,” he said spontaneously. 

“To whatever the future may bring,” I replied. 

I stayed around and chatted for a little while, but eventually retreated to my own apartment. There were enough emotions for today. 

A couple of days later Hardison invited me across the hall to help assemble or create a helicopter-esc gadget. The small talk didn’t last long and we slipped into a comfortable silence, the contraption alternating between us as we fiddled with pieces and screws. 

“Were you serious, the other day?” Hardison finally asked, breaking the silence. 

“About what?” I replied somewhat distractedly as I struggled to thread a screw correctly. 

“About figuring out what you wanted to do now that Nate’s behind bars.”

“Oh.” I paused before answering, “I mean, kinda.” I kept my eyes on the pieces and focused on putting them together even though I could feel Hardison’s eyes on me. “I kind of wondered if him getting arrested was the universe’s way of telling me that this was the end of the line for me and this life. That the opportunity and path had reached a dead end and it was time to go back to where I belonged, with a quote on quote ‘normal’ life.” I could tell Hardison wanted to say something, but I continued before he had the chance. “But, I’ve mostly decided that I’ll stick around for as long as y’all let me, wherever it leaves me.”

“Y’all? Really? I think you’ve been spending too much time with Eliot,” Hardison teased at my unconscious choice of words. 

I finally looked up at him, “Slip of the tongue from when I’ve said it ironically. I don’t know if I ever remember hearing Eliot say it.”

Hardison shrugged, “He’s some sort of southern, I’m sure he says it.” There was a lull between us before he continued, “But regardless, I’m glad you’ve decided to stick around.”

I smiled at him in appreciation when I heard Nate’s voice come out of his computer that was sitting next to us on the counter. 

“Oh, no. Mnh–mnh,” Hardison replied immediately. “No, we extended our hand of forgiveness, and you slapped it away. Now go away.”

“Please, please, I just want you to check the records of inmate Billy Epping. Fast.”

It sounded like there was someone near him as a distant voice said, “Who are you talking to?!”

Hardison rolled his eyes and started typing on his laptop before pulling something up. “Whoa… Okay, uh, William Epping’s conviction was for transporting liquor across state lines, but his sentence was way longer than anyone’s received for that crime since, like, the Pilgrims, man.”

“That’s suspicious,” I commented. 

“That’s weird,” Hardison continued, “Your warden was consulted on the sentencing.”

“That’s really suspicious,” I amended.

“It’s hinky,” Hardison agreed. 

Nate then turned to who I assumed was Billy and assured him that we would check it out. He then apologized and there were some panicked sounds coming through his comm that wasn’t from Nate. 

“Uh, Hardison, Y/n, why don’t you guys gather the team and get me a background check on the warden.”

“You stabbed me!” The other voice called. 

“Oh, come on, just a little,” Nate minimized. 

“Was that necessary, Nate?” I asked. 

“Yes,” he responded without elaborating. 

“Nate, did you find us a client in prison?” Hardison teased. 

“Yes, we are going to help Billy Epping, and maybe take down a warden at the same time,” Nate said matter-of-factly. 

Billy exasperatedly demanded who Nate was talking to and eventually came to the conclusion that he was going to pass out. 

Hardison turned to me and muted us on the comm network, “What was that about signs of the universe?”

“I’m not sure what this sign is telling me other than that Nate, my uncle and the person who raised me, is insane. Which I already knew and am still figuring out how that reflects on me.”

“Fair.”

We gathered the team and started preparations to do some recon. Hardison did the background check on the warden, Adam Worth, and drew up some credentials for Eliot to go into the prison as a doctor. He would be there to keep Billy safe and give information to Nate. Parker and Sophie (she had told us her real name at this point, but wanted to be petty and not tell Nate, so it was easier to just call her Sophie) were going to be working the courthouse and judge, getting information on Billy and their relationship with Mr. Worth. 

Hardison and I dressed up a bit to meet with Mr. Worth on the pretense of business. 

“How I got started?” Mr. Worth repeated Hardison as he poured us some drinks, “Well, hedge funds, actually. And then a little bit of international finance. But then ten years ago, I hit on this – National prison properties. Get the government out of the justice business.” Everything that came out of his mouth sounded like a political slogan. This man seemed to be born a politician, and from what Hardison found on the background check, it seemed to run in his family. His grandfather, father, and brother were all in pretty powerful political positions, but the Mr. Worth that stood in front of us couldn’t seem to get elected in his campaigns. 

When asked for our names, we introduced ourselves with the best English accents we could muster and maintain for this whole meeting. 

“Brilliant,” Hardison remarked, “Corporate-run prisons, five facilities, thousands of inmates, it’s tremendous.”

“Indeed, it’s a marvel,” I added with a smile despite the fact that my thoughts and feelings on the matter were quite contrary. 

Mr. Worth led us over to his sitting area of his office, Hardison came behind me as he took a step to Mr. Worth’s computer and planted a bug into his system. 

“The U.S. has the fastest growing prison population in the world,” Mr. Worth explained. “Well, it’s like the real estate boom,” he laughed, “except of course, the problem with real estate, you eventually run out of land. You never run out of people to put in prison.”

“Hmm, we haven’t had much success in the private prison concept in England,” Hardison said. “Our investment firm has large real estate holdings for construction of facilities.”

“You see, any yahoo can lay some concrete and throw up some razor wire,” Worth countered. “The profit comes from proper management. For example, the big money for us is in prison labor.”

Hardison pulled out his phone to ensure that his bug was accessing the system, but this had him a bit distracted. 

“Really?” I asked, pulling the attention to me and to keep the conversation going. 

“Yes. Goods and services made by prisoners in America – two billion dollars a year. One out of every five office chairs and desks, made in America, made by convicts. And those jobs are not going to the Chinese,” he laughed and raised his glass in a cheers. 

Around this time Eliot arrived at the prison infirmary and handed over his credentials. Before we left, Eliot was agitated.

“What’s up?” I had asked him.

“We tried to break him out, but now we’ve got to do this job. We shouldn’t just be at his beckon call after he ran a con on us,” he said through slightly gritted teeth. 

“Well, when you see him, don’t rough him up too badly,” I commented, not denying his feelings. I was a bit peeved too, and I knew Eliot wouldn’t do something rash, I said it in a teasing way to try and lighten his mood. 

He looked at me for a hard moment before he sighed, his shoulders dropping, “Fine, I won’t do anything.”

“I never said that,” I corrected, that teasing lilt still in my voice, “You can still scare him a little bit.”

His expression was a bit skeptical, but intrigued. 

“Please? For me?”

His face broke into a smile, “Okay, I think I can do that, sweetheart.”

And he did once he and Nate were alone after he was introduced to Billy and assured he would be safe. 

It sounded like they popped into a dental office to talk and with some rustling and clinking of buckles, it sounded like Eliot was physically strapping Nate in. 

“Restraints,” Eliot said. “They’re in the infirmary manual.” 

Then the sound of a dental drill came through the comms. 

“That’s – uh – for the guards, right?” Nate asked with a bit of a nervous laugh. 

“Do you know what I usually do, Nate, to the people that run a con on their own team?” Eliot asked seriously with a pause. “That almost get people killed, ‘cause they’re out of control?”

“Are we okay, Eliot?” Nate asked, that tone of nervous challenge shifting in his voice. 

I smiled to myself behind my glass. Eliot knew what he was doing when it came to scaring people, even when trying to be subtle. 

As an answer, Eliot turned the drill off and started relaying the information that we knew on Worth. He told him about his family’s political dynasty and his failure to get elected himself which led to him going the business route. 

“Okay, first, we have to figure out how to nail the warden on whatever scam he’s running here,” Nate said. “Second, we’ve got to get Billy out of here in case things go bad.”

“Told ya, this place is escape-proof,” Eliot countered. “Twenty-first century prison, fewer guards, more tech. Infrared cameras, motion sensors, lockdown doors.”

“Okay, does Parker have any ideas?”

“She’s working with… Sophie.”

“What was that?”

“Sophie told us her real name. I’m not allowed to say it in front of you.”

“Seriously?”

“Her and Parker, they’re running the judge.”

At the courthouse, they were able to find a bunch of files of inmates and evidence of a safety deposit box. Hardison and I wrapped things up with Worth to go do some research and discuss what they found. 

It turns out that the judge who sentenced Billy opened up a safety deposit box around the same time that he started sending civilians down for hard time. Four other judges seemed to do the same. 

“I mean, there are hundreds of cases here,” Sophie said once she, Parker, Hardison, and I got back from our respective assignments. “And these are just the ones we found.”

“Records I pulled off of Worth’s computer show that each time an inmate checks in at Rockford, their judge gets an email. Now, it looks coded. I’m thinking, Cayman Islands bank account?” Hardison speculated. 

“Hardison,” Nate said through comms, “private prisons have a contract with the state just like any company that provides a service. Now, do they have to maintain a head count?”

“Yeah, Rockford can’t drop below 70% occupancy. If they do, they lose their state funding. No state money, and they close. They came very close two years ago,” I answered.

“Hmm, so private prisons are like the hotel business. They live and die by occupancy, headcount. Now, Worth wasn’t gonna lose $100 million in profit just ‘cause he didn’t have enough hard-cases to fill the prison, so he puts a few judges on the arm to send him non-violent offenders, easy prisoners to supervise.”

“But why these people?” Parker asked. 

“Because they’re citizens,” Eliot said as he walked in from the neighboring room. “‘Cause they’re honest, middle class citizens. These are the people, they don’t wanna cause any trouble. They can’t afford a lawyer, so if some judge sends them away, well, yes sir. They were taught to trust the courts.”

“They believe in the system,” I added, summing it up. 

“So, Nate, whatcha got?” Sophie asked. 

“Well, Worth makes money sending innocent people to prison.” Nate answered, “I have just the thing.”

To put it simply, Nate did have just the thing for Mr. Worth: make all of his ambitions come true and get him elected United States Senator. 

Sophie got Worth on the hook for the election by posing as the current senator’s campaign coordinator, vying for reelection. Parker posed for pictures that got photoshopped to make it look like the current senator was having an affair. A scandal that could lose him his job. Hardison and I put together a campaign ad for Worth that Sophie also showed him and caught him hook, line, and sinker. 

“Now, I’ve got to give it to you Nate,” Hardison said once Sophie got back. “Nobody can read a mark quite like you.”

“Oh, come on,” Nate replied, “he tried to run twice and failed. That had to have been eating at him. Now find me a way out of this place.”

“Oh, now he wants to get out,” I said sarcastically with the intent to tease, but Nate chose not to comment. 

There was a pause before Eliot started speaking from inside the prison infirmary, “Billy showed me where he found the first dead gang member. Blind spot – no cameras.”

“Nice coincidence,” Nate acknowledged. 

“Yeah, and Hardison checked the incident reports, all of them happened in camera blind spots – places convicts wouldn’t know existed.”

“Guards,” Nate concluded simply. 

“They killed him, accident, whatever. They let Billy here find him, wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Can we use the blind spots?” Nate asked. “I really want a back door out of this place.”

“No, Nate, I can’t access those cameras from here,” Hardison said. “They’re dumb, they run straight to the server.”

“Yeah, and they could have upgraded the motion sensors and the infrareds since these plans,” Parker added. “You’re gonna have to map it out. Old-school.”

Nate and Eliot proceeded to map out the prison, finding every security camera, motion sensor, lock bolt, and heat sensor in the prison. Eliot marked it on his phone and Nate dictated it to us back at the office so we could map it both on a digital blueprint and a physical map taped to our clear erase board. 

Once they had finished the rounds in finding everything Hardison said, “Nate, if you could see this, you would not be encouraged”

“Yeah, I see it,” Nate said a bit distractedly, telling me that he had it mapped out somehow and somewhere and he was looking at our predicament at that very moment. “I hope Sophie has more luck with the warden.”

“Who’s Sophie?” Parker asked.

“You remember, we’re not supposed to use her real name with, uh…” Hardison answered. 

“Right, Nate hasn’t earned it yet.” Parker then started repeating Sophie over and over again in different pitches and tempos as if to remind herself. 

It got to a point where I knew Nate must have been losing his mind and I was getting a bit irritated myself, so I took it upon myself to cut her off, asking her to show me the ranges of the security equipment we just mapped out to see if there were even slivers of blind spots. I already had an idea that there were very few if any, but it distracted Parker from saying Sophie over and over and helped me get a better idea of what we were working with. She happily redirected and started rattling off information at me and pointing at the map with Hardison piping up occasionally about a specific tech thing here or there. 

Eventually Eliot came back and we started analyzing the digital blueprint we made of the security measures, trying to figure out how to get Nate an escape route. 

“Alright, we cut that wire,” Eliot said, pointing at the screen. 

“No, no.” Hardison said, “Look, once a lockdown is called, all these sensors go hot and all those door bolts drop into place.”

“I got it!” Parker said as she sat up from where she was lying down on the table desk. “The furnace room.” She then stood up and walked to the front of the room to face the rest of us who were extremely skeptical. “There’s no sensors because it’s too hot. They crawl straight down along the heating pipes until they reach the sewage system. Ha ha!”

“Now Parker, it’s a hundred and fifty degrees in there,” Nate pointed out through comms. 

She paused before answering happily, “The average human can withstand that for 27 seconds.”

The boys rolled their eyes and turned away from her. 

“Could they make that crawl in 27 seconds Parker?” I asked, trying to point out the problem.

She hummed and hawed for a couple of moments but before she answered, Sophie walked in. 

 “Worth is on the hook,” she said as she joined us in the living room, “But, with $250,000 of ours as a buy in.” She was referring to getting Worth to transfer a quarter million into a ‘campaign fund’ account, it seems he wanted us to match it. 

“Ouch,” Nate commented flippantly. 

“Oh, did I say ours? I meant, what’s left of your life savings. Yeah, we took it out of your account.” 

I winced, but still had an amused smile since Sophie was trying to rub it in, but we had to use Nate’s money to make Worth look even more incriminating. 

“Any luck here?” Sophie asked us, all of us answering in the negative, except for Nate.

“Yeah, yeah, got it,” he answered, convinced he was right. “B corridor, through to the kitchen, into the freezer, into the freezer air exchange, into the machine tunnels, which will lead me to the roof, or the parking lot.”

“You gotta beat the lockdown door to the corridor,” Hardison reminded him. “There’s a thousand pounds of pressure on that bolt.”

“There’s motion sensors in the kitchen,” Eliot said. 

“And infrared in the machine corridor,” Parker added. 

“All to get to the roof or the parking lot where you’ll be trapped and probably brutally gunned down,” Sophie pointed out. “Got a way out of that?”

“I’m working on it,” he replied, not as confidently, but still determined. 

“Okay, you do that, I’m sure we have all the time in the world,” I responded a bit distractedly as I analyzed the blueprint in front of me, not seeing a possible way out, but there had to be one. There had to be. 

Sophie and I were brainstorming with Nate on how to bypass the security measures and get out safely. We eventually got it mostly figured out with Nate taking the route he dictated. For the first door, he would need a wedge to keep it from latching. I proposed a folded up newspaper if he could get his hands on one. Parker said that if Nate could fog up the kitchen enough, he could bypass the motion sensors in the kitchen. If Nate could disguise his heat signature with materials in the freezer, he could get by that obstacle too. As for being trapped afterwards, we needed a distraction on the roof so Nate could get through the parking lot and into Worth’s car. He was the only one who could conceivably leave the prison in a lockdown. 

Eliot, Hardison, and Parker went back to the prison to lay down some ground work and prepare for the escape. Hardison brought some clothes to switch with Worth’s drycleaning for Nate to change into afterwards. He was also going to tip Worth off that Sophie might be crooked. Eliot was there as physical backup and protection. Parker was going to be flying a remote controlled helicopter for the rooftop distraction. 

I stayed behind with Sophie to make sure everything ran smoothly.

What we weren’t expecting was when Hardison was going to tip off Worth about Sophie, he got an urgent call that pulled him away from their meeting. Hardison checked Worth’s computer to find that all of the security cameras had been turned off, faking a system reboot.

“Eliot, get ready. They’re coming for Billy,” Nate said when Hardison told him what was going on. After a few moments of what sounded like Nate making preparations, he said, “Parker, please tell me you’re at Hardison’s new van.”

“Yeah, it’s really nice,” she answered nonchalantly. 

“Did you bring it?” he asked, referring to the remote helicopter. 

“Wait, are we doing that now?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna break out right now.”

I looked at Sophie. This was certainly unexpected, but hopefully we had prepared enough for it to pass. 

“Sophie, y/n, I need you to help guide me through it.”

“We’re on the count,” Sophie immediately replied. 

“Nate, when they call ‘lockdown’ every door in the prison seals tight,” I reminded him. 

“Right, on it,” he answered. 

There were a lot of thumps over the comms telling me that Eliot was keeping the guards at bay. I had to take a deep swallow when I heard him demand a guard look at him before he knocked him out. 

“A little sloppy,” Nate told him when he arrived. 

“New glasses,” Eliot explained. 

Eliot was wearing glasses when I met him, though I didn’t know his name was Eliot or that he was the world’s best retrieval specialist at the time. Whenever his glasses are mentioned, my mind seems to slip back to then. How he brought me champagne, complimented me, listened to me. How warm his hands were when they brushed against mine. How I’ve come to learn that they are always that warm. And how gentle they can be when they held my fingers when he said goodbye with a slight bow. How as he stood back up the lights of the party glinted off his silver frames and made his eyes sparkle.

I had always wondered if they were real, but mostly assumed they were fake. Him using new glasses as a reason for him being sloppy made me think that they actually were prescription. I should ask him about that. 

Nate grabbed Billy and they made a dash to the doors while ‘Lockdown’ got called over the intercom along with an alarm and a countdown. Billy lamented that they weren’t going to make it before the door closed and it sounded like he was right. 

After a moment, I heard a door open and Nate say, “Newspaper folded eight times can hold a ton of weight.”

I smiled to myself as it sounded like he took my suggestion. 

Sophie’s phone began to ring. She looked at it and tossed it to me, “It’s Worth calling the bank, stall him please.

I instantly answered the phone, thickening my voice to have a more pronounced Boston accent along with my customer service voice, “First Boston Independent Bank. How can I help you?”

“This is Adam Worth. I want to close an account. Move money out of it right now,” he said, somewhat out of breath and anxious. 

“And what account is it?”

“$250,000, the Worth campaign fund.”

“I’m sorry, sir, for a transfer that large, we require an in-person request to verify identity.”

He sighed and immediately hung up. 

“Well, that should stall him. He’s heading to the bank now,” I told the group even though I’m sure they heard already. 

Nate and Billy got to the kitchen where they separated, Billy going further into the prison, and Nate starting his route out of it. 

“Nate, the motion sensor,” Sophie reminded him.

“Steam’s filling up now,” he answered. I started gently chewing the tip of my thumb when he told us that he beat the motion sensor.

I sighed and released a bit of tension, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet. I could tell Sophie was feeling the same as I was as she continually told herself to breathe. 

Soon enough he told us that he made it through the maze of security measures and made it to the parking lot where he was home free in Worth’s car, who was on his way to the bank. 

Sophie and I let out a breath of relief. Now all that was left was to send some helpful anonymous tips to the State police, specifically, the newly promoted Detective Captain Bonanno, who was on the mend. 

With Hardison switching Worth’s dry cleaning with some of Nate’s clothes, making them fit better than anything Worth owned for himself, it made Worth look like even more of an accomplice of his escape when Nate exited Worth’s car at the bank. Nate made sure to catch himself clearly on a security camera. Worth took all of the money out of the campaign account, including the $250,000 of Nate’s money, making it look like a bribe. It seemed like the judges that Worth had on his payroll would also be on the receiving end of an investigation since the police found a list of them in Worth’s car. 

Now that that was out of the way, we all had to exit the city. Quickly. Hardison was getting flights and I had most of my essentials gathered so that we could all head to the airport as soon as Nate walked in the door. I had prepared to be a fugitive when we took down the mayor, but now it was actually happening with Nate escaping from prison. I had stepped across the hall to my own apartment to grab a couple more things. Just when I was zipping up my bag, I heard Nate open up his door across the hall. I exited my apartment just as the door closed behind him. 

I crossed the hall and was about to open the door again when there was a very distinctive click of a gun, right behind my ear.

“Don’t move,” a voice said behind me. Based on my experience with Sophie, I should have been able to guess the accent, but I was a bit too preoccupied to really think about it. 

I turned my head slightly to see that there were five men standing behind me. I wasn’t sure where they came from to get behind me so fast, but they were all armed and pointed their firearms at me and the door in front of me.

I did what he said and didn’t move. I knew that the rest of the team was going to be opening the door any second, so I willed myself not to cry. I took a deep swallow, but could feel my eyes start to sting. There was always something when it came to this team, wasn’t there. 

I could hear Hardison through the door mentioning rendezvousing in Paris when the door swung open to reveal the team. He immediately paused and the moment I made eye contact with Eliot, he took a forceful step towards me, ready to fight. Nate stopped him, grabbing his arm, but Eliot still tugged a bit before halting. They both gave me reassuring looks with a fire behind their eyes when a woman walking down Nate’s stairs pulled everyone’s attention to her. The thought crossed my mind wondering how she got up there when there has always been at least one of us in the apartment. These guys seemed to move like ghosts. 

“Buono sera, signor Ford,” she said, definitely Italian. 

Nate stared her down, but his body language seemed relaxed considering there were still several guns pointed at the back of my head and through me to the rest of the team. 

“Why don’t you have your boys here put their guns down and we’ll head downstairs to talk?” He phrased it as a question, but his tone made it sound like there was no room for argument. This was still a bit confusing to me as it seemed she had all of the leverage here, again, since I had several guns right behind me. 

Luckily, she nodded. The men lowered their guns and I quickly walked through the door. The Italian woman gracefully followed Nate as he exited the apartment past me and walked down the stairs, closing the door behind them, keeping her goons in the hallway. I let out a shuttered breath, and Sophie comfortingly stroked my shoulder and arm. My bag slipped through my fingers and fell to the floor with a thump that startled me as I had forgotten I was even holding it.

It seemed to snap the rest of them out of it as well. Eliot stepped up to me, hands gently on both of my arms and looked me over, making sure I was okay. I just nodded at him to say that I was. Hardison and Parker were discussing who they were, why they were here, and where they came from. 

“They came out of nowhere,” I said a bit distantly. “I blinked and they were behind me.”

“Highly trained,” Eliot said. “But you’re okay, you did good. You didn’t lose your head.”

“If you say so,” I let out another deep breath that made me feel a lot better. I walked over to a chair and flopped myself on it. “So, guess we aren’t going to Paris?”

Hardison looked at me, “Probably not anymore.”

“We have to figure out what that woman wants first,” Sophie said, sitting more gracefully in one of the chairs than I did. 

Parker started spitting out theories which Hardison seemed to encourage with a couple of his own. The rest of us just sat in silence, knowing that this was more of a waiting game to see what Nate came back with. 

It didn’t take long before Nate came back into the apartment, a full glass in his hand. We all sat around the table, anxiously waiting for what was in store for us. Nate didn’t leave us waiting as he told us who exactly the Italian wanted us to target. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Sophie exclaimed. “Nobody touches Damien Moreau!”

“Nate, Moreau finances the Sicilians, the Russian mafia, the Colombian cartels,” Hardison rattled off. 

“Yeah, he moves money for the North Koreans,” Eliot added, “stolen artifacts for Iraq, nuclear materials for Iran.”

“Moreau is the big bad,” Hardison emphasized. “He is the central bank for international crime.”

Parker was flipping through the files that the Italian had given to Nate and just barely spoke up, “Nate, these files are CIA, FBI, Mossad, Japanese security.”

I peeked over her shoulder to see that she was correct, these files came from every major government and security agency. I didn’t know who this guy was, but I could tell that we were in a real deep shit from both sides it seemed. Two parties, both very powerful and very connected.

“So… who is this woman?” Sophie asked.

Nate told us that while she confirmed she wasn’t police, she didn’t expand much into who she was. He also added that she gave us a six month timeline. 

“She wants to hire us to go after Moreau? Absolutely not,” Sophie said, the others quickly following with similar sentiments. 

It got to the point where the one sided argument started to get out of control so Nate had to stop them. 

“Guys! Just wait a second. This is not a job.” He then proceeded to tell us that if we did it, we would be free of Nate’s… legal troubles, in so many words. If we failed, on the other hand, Nate would be imprisoned in an absolutely horrible way and the rest of the team would be killed. Nate wouldn’t even repeat what she said they would do to me. 

“She’s blackmailing us?” I asked, both parts in disbelief and resignation.

Nate stuttered, trying to find a way to deny it, but eventually just agreed that yes, she was blackmailing us. 

“Sucks to be on the wrong side of that, finally,” Parker said. 

“You don’t have to say ‘finally’ as if it was inevitable, Parker,” I said with a sigh. 

“Right now, they have the leverage, so what we have to do is we have to get it back,” Nate tried to say reassuringly. 

I could tell I wasn’t the only one who wasn’t quite convinced.

“We can’t go straight at a guy like Moreau,” Eliot said. “They’ll vaporize us.”

“Right, so what we do, is we do like we’ve always done in the past: we do jobs that help people. Only this time, some of them are gonna lead us right to Moreau.”

“Okay,” Hardison said, but he didn’t sound skeptical, it almost sounded like he was on board. “I mean, I do have a pretty big client list waiting for us to check out.” Yup he was on board. Hardison pointed at Parker and she gave a shy smile that said that she was in too. “Oh, we back in business,” Hardison said with a smile. 

Nate nodded and tapped an uneven rhythm on the table to somewhat signal that there was nothing else to discuss. 

We all stood, walking away from the heavy conversation.

I eyed the glass of whiskey that Nate had been holding this whole time, made eye contact with Nate and then Sophie before deciding that I was going to make the choice to not worry about it. It wasn’t my problem. 

“Well, I’m gonna head to bed and dream about the horrible life of servitude and death that I’m going to experience if we don’t pull this off in the next six months. Hope you all sleep better than me, and I will see you in the morning!” I called with faux  cheerfulness as I walked out of Nate’s apartment to cross the hall to my own. I snatched my bag that I had dropped when I was released from the line of fire and dragged it to my apartment where I left it in a similar position, not wanting to deal with it at the moment. 

I really just wanted to sleep. 

A/n: Reblogs and comments are welcome and encouraged! Thank you for reading!

Tags: @instantdinosaurtidalwave @kniselle @technikerin23 @kiwikitty13 @plasticbottleholder @mushycore @who-actually-cares-anymore 

[elusivewildflower]

Just Another Case | Holland March x Reader

Pairings: Holland March x F! Reader

Summary: You and Holland have been partners for the last year, solving case after ridiculous case together. Even though you’ve been mistaken as a couple countless times while working, the two of you are simply close friends. You might have feelings for him, but you’re sure he doesn’t feel the same. That is, until one particular case comes along on your laundry day, where you’re down to your last piece of clean clothing---a dress and no underwear. 

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of sex, the case is about catching a husband cheating. Mostly turns out to be pretty sweet. 

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve written or posted anything, but I hope I’ll be able to get back on track soon! Work and life has been pretty busy lately. I know in the movie Holland mentions that a “no-fault” law ended a lot of his cases like this, but let’s just say one pops up every now and then. (Because let’s be honest, even if I could divorce with no fault, I’d still like to have proof my spouse is cheating). Thank you to @ninjathrowingstork & another friend for beta-ing this for me! Based on the scene idea I had last week and the request I had sitting in my inbox by @wndawtch​.

You press your back against the wall in your kitchen, holding the phone to your ear as your fingers twirl the cord impatiently. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before you cursed under your breath. If he hadn’t answered by the third ring, you knew he wasn’t going to. It rang two more times before you were greeted with the familiar message of Holland’s answering machine. 

“You have reached March & Co Investigations. This machine records messages. Wait for the tone and speak clearly.” 

The answering machine beeps and you begin speaking. 

“Holland, did you forget you’re supposed to be working today? We were scheduled to meet Mrs. Jenkins at noon and you never showed.” You paused, heaving a sigh. “I swear, if you’re fully dressed and asleep in the tub again—“

The other line picked up and Holland’s groggy voice reached your ears, cutting you off. “What’s so bad about sleeping in the tub?” 

“Aside from the chance of drowning?” You asked rhetorically before continuing, “because you think that sitting in a tub full of water washes both you and what you’re wearing. Which is so not true, by the way.” 

“Oh yeah, says who?” He retorted defiantly.

“I do—and probably a lot of other people if we asked.” You responded quickly, not even waiting for Holland to come up with a response before you began speaking once more. “Get yourself dried off and ready to go. I’ll pick you up in an hour so we can actually start working—I’ve got a lead.” 

Holland gave a grumble of agreement and you slammed the receiver back onto the base to hang up. Sometimes you couldn’t understand why you had agreed to be Holland’s partner over a year ago. He had a serious drinking problem and always seemed to get himself into trouble. On the other hand, he was also extremely intelligent—one of the best private investigator’s you had ever seen on his good days—and he was quite attractive. Throw in his sob story about being a single father to a teenage daughter who lost his wife in a house fire and you were hooked. 

Not that the two of you had ever crossed over the line of being business partners and friends aside from a few flirtatious remarks, but honestly you wouldn’t mind it. You had grown rather close to the young widower and his daughter, Holly, over the last year. Hell, when Holly started her period a few months ago, she called and told you first before mentioning it to her father. You spent more time at their rental home than at your own, and you honestly lost count of the times people had mistaken you for a couple when you were on a case.

You glanced up at the clock on the wall before heaving a sigh and pushing yourself from the wall you were leaning against to call Holland. There was enough time to start a load of laundry, but it wouldn’t finish drying before you had to leave. As you rounded up the hamper from your bedroom filled to the brim with dirty clothes, you cursed yourself for not waking up earlier in the morning—and also cursed your past self for not doing laundry sooner. You had donned your last piece of clean clothing this morning before meeting Mrs. Jenkins, which was a knee-length floral dress. Its color complimented your skin tone nicely, and the deeply cut neckline made your breasts look fantastic. It wasn't exactly what you'd wear on a normal day of work---unless the day consisted of trying to catch a man cheating on his wife. Which, technically you were, but today's lead included the address of his supposed mistress. You and Holland would simply need to do a bit of a stake out to see if you could catch Mrs. Jenkins' husband coming or going from the property, and the dress was definitely not needed.

Before you knew it, an hour had ticked by. You grabbed your purse, slid your heels back on, and locked the door behind you as you exited your house. You told Holland you’d pick him up in an hour, but you only lived a few streets away and he was never ready on time, so you didn’t care that you were late. Honestly, you weren’t the best with time management either, so you were thankful you had a partner that ran late. A few minutes later, and you were pulling into March's driveway, honking your horn to announce your arrival.

About ten minutes later, Holland finally emerges from his home, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. As he climbs into the passenger seat he glances over at you, doing a double take as he realizes what you’re wearing. “What bar or club are we going to?” He questions curiously.

You shake your head as you reverse out of his driveway. “We’re not going to a bar or club.” 

Holland’s brows furrowed in confusion as he ashes his cigarette out the window. “But you’re wearing the dress.” 

You should have known he’d recognize the dress. “I have the address to the alleged mistress, we don’t need to go to a bar. We’re gonna do a stake out.” You explained.

Holland still seemed confused, a frown forming on his face as he eyed you over. “What, do you have a hot date after this or something?” 

He was clearly not letting this go, and did he seem a bit upset at the thought of you having a hot date? You had to be imagining that. 

“No, no hot date. I just felt like wearing a dress,” You gave a shrug as you lied. After criticizing his method of laundry—the thought of sitting fully dressed in a tub still made you shudder—you didn’t feel like admitting that you didn’t have anything else clean. 

Holland must’ve believed you, because he stopped badgering you with questions about it. He did, however, start asking about the case. You spent the rest of the drive filling him in on the details he missed when he overslept the meeting you had with your client.

As you pulled off to the side of the road to park, your heart dropped to your stomach. Your client neglected to mention that the mistress’s house had a seven-foot tall fence all of the way around and a gated driveway. You could feel Holland’s eyes boring into the side of your head. Ignoring him, you grabbed the binoculars from the back seats and simply exited the car. You walked up to the gate at the driveway, double checking that you had the right address. Your shoulders slumped when you realized that you were at the correct address. This was going to make capturing photos for proof of his cheating more difficult. 

You heard the passenger side door slam shut as Holland joined you. “Well, this is great.” He deadpanned, placing his hands upon his hips as he surveyed the fence. 

You sighed, nodding your head in agreement. “Yep.” 

A moment of silence passed between you until Holland broke it with a click of his tongue. “Alright, come on. I’ve got an idea.” He ushered, moving to kneel down beside the fence.

Your brows furrowed as you watched him, unsure of what he was planning. 

He noticed your look of confusion and sighed, beckoning you closer. “Come on, I’m gonna lift you up there.” 

“What?” The question tumbled out of your lips before you realized it, your heart rate rising as fear coursed through you. Holland wasn’t exactly the strongest man in the world, and he tended to be clumsy. You trusted him with a lot of things, but being capable of not dropping you wasn’t one of them. Not to mention that you ran out of clean underwear this morning and were currently going commando under your dress. You swore to yourself that this was the last time you’d ever wait so long to wash clothes.

“Well, I don’t see you lifting me, and someone needs to be able to see over the fence.” He explained as if his idea made perfect sense. Which, in fairness, it did. Except for the two things you were currently worried about; Holland dropping you and seeing up your dress. 

You remained still for a few more moments, your feet refusing to move from where you stood as you mulled over your options—or lack thereof. 

Holland rolled his eyes at you as he grew impatient. “Oh, come on.” He beckoned you again, “before someone sees us!” 

Taking a deep breath, you finally agreed. “Fine,” you began, “But do not look up my dress, Holland.” You warned him sternly, pointing a finger at him. 

Holland looked insulted. “Why would I look up your dress?” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, your finger now wagging at him. “Because I know you.” 

Holland raised his hands in surrender, dropping his insulted act. “Alright, alright, I won’t look up your dress.” 

Appeased by his answer, you close the distance between you. Holland laces his fingers together, giving you a spot to place your foot. You hold onto his shoulder as you step into his hands, and he lifts you up as he moves to stand. He lifts you a bit too high too fast and you’re suddenly scrambling to grab hold of the fence so you don’t fall. 

“Jesus! Not that high!” You scold him as you struggle to find your balance. 

Holland mutters out an apology and lowers you slightly. 

Leaning yourself against the fence, you raise your binoculars to your eyes. You scan the windows of the house, starting with the first floor. Disappointment flooded your veins as you were coming up empty-handed, that is until you panned to the last window on the second floor. A nude woman was pressed against the window getting railed from behind. You couldn’t tell by who, but you assumed it was your client’s husband. You let out a gasp. Jesus Christ. That must be nice. Just as you opened your mouth to tell Holland what you had found, you heard his voice below you. 

“Holy fuck—You’re not wearing any underwear!” 

Holland’s words caused you to release your grip on the fence in a panic, snapping your attention towards him. You find him still staring up your dress in shock, his jaw dropped open. You reach out to swat at him, shouting his name in an annoyed tone. “I told you not to look!”

Your words seemed to shake Holland out of his stupor, but your swat only backfired on you. Holland tried to dodge your hand out of instinct, which only served to make him lose his balance and send the both of you toppling to the ground. It happened so quickly you don’t even remember falling, but you definitely felt the pain of the impact. Every part of your body ached, but it didn’t feel like you had broken or sprained anything, so that was good. Your head may have been pounding from smacking the ground, but it was better than your skull being cracked open by the sidewalk. You had missed that by just a few inches, you realized as you rolled onto your side. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you lift me,” you groaned out, looking over at Holland.

Clearly, you had taken the brunt of the fall, as Holland was already sitting up and staring at you. “Why aren’t you wearing any underwear?!” He asked incredulously, ignoring your previous comment.

“It’s laundry day and I didn’t have any clean!” You admitted.

Holland shook his head unbelievingly. “Jesus Christ, I need a cigarette…” He spoke as he reached into his jacket, pulling out his lighter and a cigarette just a moment later. After pulling the first drag, he regarded you once more. This time it seemed like he was checking you for any injuries, rather than staring at you like a deer in headlights. “I’m sorry for dropping you. Are you alright?” He asked sincerely, gesturing towards you with his hand.

You nodded and moved to sit up, another groan tumbled from your lips as your body ached in protest. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You assured him. You may wind up with several bruises and have a hard time getting out of bed tomorrow, but you’d survive. 

A comfortable silence fell between you once more as Holland smoked and you let the pounding in your head subside. After a few moments, Holland snuffed out his cigarette in the grass. “That’s why you’re wearing the dress,” he announced, having put together that you lied to him earlier. “You didn’t want to wear that, you just didn’t have anything else to wear today.” 

Your eyes snapped up from the grass to meet his as he broke the silence, but you didn’t bother giving him a response, your facial expression was enough. He was right and he knew it, you didn’t need to confirm it with words. 

“I may bathe in my clothes, but at least I always have clean underwear.” He spoke in a chastising tone that had you rolling your eyes. “So, did you see anything?” He asked after a moment, gesturing towards the binoculars that were lying on the grass. 

As you glanced at where he gestured, you remembered what you had witnessed right before Holland dropped you. “Yeah, I saw a naked woman being railed against her bedroom window.” You shrugged and continued speaking as Holland reached for the binoculars. “I couldn’t see by who, though, so we’ll just have to wait until he leaves.” 

Springing up to his feet, Holland tried his best to see over the fence, hoping to catch a glimpse of the action. It was no use, though, as he wasn’t tall enough to see over it unless he backed all of the way up into the street—and then he’d likely be hit by a car. He sighed defeatedly and turned back to you. “When does Mrs. Jenkins say her husband comes home after this?” 

You looked down at your watch, your eyes widening as you realized what time it was. 1:54 p.m. Mrs. Jenkins said her husband usually got home around 2:30 p.m. and you were about thirty minutes away from where she lived. As if on cue, you hear the sound of an engine starting up in the driveway. Your attention turns back to Holland, his blue eyes connecting with yours. “Right now.” You spoke hurriedly, rushing to get yourself up from the ground. Like the gentleman he is, Holland helped you to your feet and the two of you took off running towards your car. 

“Why is our timing always so terrible?” Holland asked exasperatedly as you ran. 

“I don’t know, but I blame you.” You replied, slamming the door shut behind you as you hopped into the car. 

Holland’s door slammed shut right after yours. “You blame me? Why?” 

You’re digging around in the backseat for your camera, not even looking at Holland as you respond. “Because you distract me,” you admit carelessly, not paying attention to the words that fall from your mouth until it’s too late. The car in the driveway is growing closer to the gate, and if it was your client’s husband that was leaving, you needed to capture a picture of it in order to be paid. As you return to your seat, fiddling with the camera to turn it on, you realize what you just said to Holland and your heart hammers in your chest. 

Holland shakes his head in disbelief. “I distract you? No, no, it’s you who distracts me.” 

Your brows furrow as you glance over at him . “How do I distract you?”

“Are you kidding me? Did you forget what happened not even fifteen minutes ago?” Holland gestures towards the spot the two of you were standing previously. “I just saw up your dress and you’re not wearing any fucking underwear! Do you know what that did to me?”

His question seemed rhetorical, or maybe you had just lost all function in your brain at the implication of his words. 

“And don’t even get me started on that dress. You look so god damn sexy in that, and I hate that you only wear it to lure married men into flirting with you for a case.” Holland admitted, only pausing long enough to suck in a breath of air before he continued. “I get so fucking jealous watching those men think they have a chance with you, and you don’t even notice!” Holland stares at you as he finishes, waiting for a response as your brain tries to wrap around what he just confessed. 

Your thoughts are running a mile a minute, trying to remember every time you’ve had to flirt with a married man for a case. Did you really not notice that Holland was jealous? Or did you just try to shrug it off because you didn’t believe he could ever feel that way for you? Your mouth suddenly feels dry at the realization, but eventually you speak. “I didn’t realize you felt that way about me….” 

“Of course I do, how couldn’t I?” Holland spoke as if he couldn’t believe you didn’t notice sooner. “You’re gorgeous, extremely smart,” he then gestured towards himself, “you put up with my bullshit, and you’re so good to Holly.” A small smile spread across his face as he spoke of his daughter. “She loves you, you know?”  

You returned his smile and nodded, leaning in closer to the center console. “Yeah, I know.” 

Holland closed the short distance between you, his face mere inches from yours as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, hesitatingly whispering his confession. “And I love you, too.” 

Gazing into his cool blue eyes, you couldn’t help the blinding smile that grew on your face. “I love you, too, Holland.” You admitted before capturing his lips. Holland’s hand rose to your neck, gripping the back of it as he locked you in a passionate kiss. His tongue prodded against your lips for entrance, but the sound of a gate opening made him pull away. 

“Mrs. Jenkin’s husband, Mrs. Jenkin’s husband!” He cried out, pointing at the car that was pulling out of the driveway right in front of you.

“Oh, shit!” You exclaimed, pulling yourself away from Holland and quickly grabbing the camera from your lap. You raised it to your eye and managed to snap a few incriminating photos of the man who matched the description of your client’s husband driving away. 

You placed the camera back into the floor of the back seat and turned towards Holland with a grin. “Well, let’s go get paid.” 

Holland leaned over, gently grabbing your jaw and pulling your lips to meet his. “As soon as the check’s in the bank, I’m taking you on a date.” He promised, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek.

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll even buy a new dress.” You spoke softly, nuzzling your nose against his before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

A smirk spread across Holland’s face. “Any chance you won’t be wearing any underwear then, too?” 

You scoff and swat at his chest with a laugh. “Holland!” You shout his name in a scolding tone, turning back to face the steering wheel as you turn the keys in the ignition. 

“Well, that’s not a no….” He trails off as you start the drive back to your client’s home, eliciting a giggle from you. 

[quinloki]

From his spot on the floor, Thatch can see you standing behind Teach, clutching that damned fruit against your chest with wide eyes as you stare at the growing blood puddle. He wants to tell you to run, but before he can speak, your eyes snap to Teach. "You... this wasn't s-supposed to..." Teach briefly turns back to glance at your cowering form, but turns back to Thatch just as quickly. "Come on. You want to be free, don't you?" Keeping his back to you was a mistake. Thatch chokes on his blood the second you start wolfing down the fruit yourself.

So I have another couple asks sitting in my inbox, and I’m going to continue to sit on those and chew on them but this has grabbed my undivided attention.

That you are the one that sets him up. It was fairly spur of the moment too. Teach and you might have talked about him helping you get off the ship, and Teach admits to you what fruit he really wants, but if it’s the fruit that kicks off your shared plan he’ll let you eat it.

You just have to do a few things for him after that.

You become Teach’s shadow, a beast of darkness that hides within the protection of the one who got you off that ship.

You help him with the jail break, with capturing Ace before that point. Teach’s successes wrap up without your face ever becoming known to anyone but the WBP.

Ace survives, only barely, spending months or even two years in a coma while he slowly recovers. Thatch had survived, but he wasn’t healed enough to take part in Marineford. It was you who tripped Akainu up enough to spare Ace’s life.

You might not have wanted to be a prisoner on the ship but you hated Marines more than any pirate.

You give Teach Pops’ Devil fruit (I feel like this ability to move fruits is a function of the darkness fruit, so that’s what I’m rolling with) and stay with him and his crew afterward. You dont participate in the Payback wars, you don’t need to.

At some point during Wano, you leave Teach’s island and crew. You’ve paid your due, and with Marco et al in Wano you can swing by the island - you want to apologize to Pops, even if Teach says you shouldn’t. The whole time with the crew was complicated. A mash of good memories and traumatic ones. Of times that were comforting and times that weren’t.

You didn’t hate any of them, but there wasn’t love lost - or there was, but you pushed it aside.

Standing before his grave you just let it all out. You berated him for not protecting you, for not raising his sons better. You thanked him for protecting you, for giving you a family, for keeping you alive in a world that tried to kill you.

You asked for forgiveness and offered it. You tried to voice all the emotions of your time on the crew and all your doubts of your actions since, while still accepting that things were unchangeable.

Your darkness flares in reaction to a threat, but a second too late. Dark Tendrils wrap around Thatch’s body as the cold sea stone collar latches around your neck.

Your power is locked away. You’re equal parts terrified and relieved. You’re trapped, but he really is alive. You couldn’t save everyone, but you didn’t kill anyone either.

“You’re alive,” you whisper against the wind, smiling as you close your eyes. “Good.”

Whatever he decides to do, you couldn’t stop him as you are. You’ll accept it, however he needs you to. You had all the freedom you could’ve hoped for, speaking from your heart earlier, it was more than you expected you’d get.

“Ace woke up a few days ago,” he says, rage shivering against his words, hand tight on the collar binding you. His anger is directed at your very existence, you’re sure. “Said it was you that tripped up the Admiral. You that’s the reason he’s alive.”

He lifts you easily off the ground, and even if the sea stone wasn’t sapping your strength, you’d still be a rag doll by comparison. Thatch’s eyes have a conflicted and enraged glint to them. It was hard to say if he was going to keep you, or throw you into the sea.

There’s a long silence and some of his rage subsides.

“You’re why I’m alive too.” A tight, strained smile slips across his face. “You might just be able to beg forgiveness after all, little doll.”

[cyanoticfireflies]

Hazbin Hotel - Rewatch Thoughts (Episode 1, Part 1)

Notes: As I’ve been re-reading some of my favorite things (as in, not necessarily just fanfics, but other stuff that I enjoy) I got part of the way through @canary3d-obsessed’s “Restless Rewatch: The Untamed” and thought to myself that I should do one of these for Hazbin Hotel!  I can’t do a first time reacting to, because by this point I’ve watched it a good eight times -_- But this way I can point out some of the things that I’ve noticed on multiple rewatches, some of which prove just how clever the team behind this show is!  Also, you will get unapologetic Huskerdust shipping.  This is just my life now.

__________

Episode 1

So we start off with Charlie giving us the background story on Heaven, Hell, daddy Lucy, mama Lili, and all of that.  Heaven was “good,” Lucifer was a dreamer who thought of free will, the elders of Heaven said “nah,” Lucifer said “but what if yea,” and shit went sideways.

As someone who likes watching reaction videos on YouTube, I’ve been surprised by the number of people who have watched this intro and gone “Who’s Lilith?”  And then there are the ones who say they heard about her from Diablo 4.  I feel like Lilith isn’t… rare lore?  I don’t know where or when I first heard about Lilith, but that kind of supports my stance of surprise?

(I tried to show my religious friend Hazbin – leaning on the “it’s about redemption” point – and it was actually the mention of Lilith that first triggered her?  Because “you have to get really deep into things to find out about Lilith”?  I am confused.)

I won’t go into my theories too heavily at this point – I’ll put up a final chapter for those so I can take it down in humiliation when the show laughs in my face later – but Eve looks very, very evil when she gets that fruit…

Anyway, Luci and Lili got exiled, Luci developed depression, Lili developed magic song powers then fluffed off seven years ago.  Don’t worry, Charlie – your mom just went to go get some milk and cigarettes.

Genuinely, is Lilith being a song demon why everyone in Hell has pre-choreographed musical numbers?  If she “empowered demon-kind” with her songs, does that include giving them all baby song powers?  We know that these songs aren’t reality breaks because at the end of “Loser, Baby” the sharks comment on the song.  (There’s also Vaggie and Angel’s discussion in “Happy Day in Hell” but since that’s in-song it feels like a less-strong argument.) 

So it turns out that Charlie has been speaking this whole prolog bit aloud to herself.  Relatable, girl – me dictating to myself the entire course of actions it takes to get through my email inbox.  My officemate wears headphones so she won’t think I’m talking to her when I start talking to myself.

Also, poof – kitty! 

I love KeeKee (pronounced “key-key” because, and this is true, she’s a key).  But I also don’t know what the point of KeeKee is?  If it’s just to give Charlie a pet, that’s totally fine.  She also has Razzle and Dazzle, but Charlie could be one of those people with two cats, a full fishtank, a canary, and a husky and that’s totally chill.

(Why yes, my in-laws’ place is a zoo, why do you ask?)

I think I saw somewhere that KeeKee is the key to the hotel?  But when Lucifer pops up later he immediately coos over KeeKee like Charlie has had her forever, so she obviously didn’t come with the hotel.  Did Charlie change the locks on the hotel to KeeKee-compatible locks after she bought the place?  I assume this is a metaphorical key? 

(Lucifer and KeeKee in episode 5.)

Vivienne has said that KeeKee is a “physical manifestation of the hotel” but even that doesn’t make a lot of sense with the timeline…  *Shrugs*

Charlie and Vaggie talk, and I honestly get so much amusement out of people who are like “Is that her sister?  Are they best friends?”  And I know that they didn’t, like, make out in their opening scene.  But I didn’t ever suspect that they weren’t girlfriends?  Maybe it’s just because I read into pretty much all media from a queer lens.

(Right here, ma’am.)

Charlie will go on to call Vaggie her girlfriend much later in episode 5 and make it official-official, but if you don’t go into everything with a straight-is-default mindset I’m not sure how you miss it.

We blip into Alastor’s take on a commercial for a hotel.  Which is thoroughly enticing to exactly… Alastor.

(Quick question on the sinner designs – and I won’t stop every time we see a cluster of sinners to do this.  But everyone’s design has something to do with how they lived or died, right?  Angel is from a “web of crime” family, Husk is an unlucky black cat [I know, he’s a tuxedo cat not a fully black cat], Alastor was shot by a hunter like a deer… was grenade man some type of bomber?  A war criminal?  What is his story???)

His little hand-drawn picture is kind of cute, but it also makes me laugh because we actually see another character do something similar later on: Vox!

(And, yeah, Charlie obviously.)

I want someone to write the fic where Alastor and Vox’s relationship started in an introductory art class before descending into the chaos we see in episodes 2 and 8.

Vaggie does not like Alastor’s sense of humor and starts yelling at him.  Charlie tries the *kindergarten teacher* nice feedback.  “I love your use of color,” she says, staring at his construction paper covered in scribbled blobs of blue and orange.  “Very creative.”

(“Maybe if you crumpled your drawing into a little ball like this, it would look better in the trashcan, honey!”)

Alastor doesn’t see the problem here.  Alastor seems to have exactly zero capacity to accept anything that isn’t Alastor’s way, so this is unsurprising.

And then, with the sultry wail of a saxophone, we’re introduced to the bestest spider (and the only spider this horrifically arachnophobia author actually adores:) Angel Dust

Angel is totally willing to shoot an amateur porno right there on the sofa if it will help draw sinners to the hotel for Charlie.

And this would actually probably work in Hell, honestly.  The horniest sinners actually would be knocking the walls down if they thought that with every night’s stay you got a free round with Hell’s most famous porn star.  “Cum to the Hazbin Hotel for some ‘quality time’ with our singular resident.”

I am curious what Angel’s concept for his porno commercial was.  Just him and Alastor banging dirty on the coffee table in the foyer?  Night in the life of the brothel that is Angel’s bedroom?

(Also, I know Val owns Angel in the studio and Angel has some freedom outside of it, but does that include shooting his own pornos?  Is it okay if they’re not for money?  Or is it still not okay because Angel doesn’t own rights to his own image?  Would Angel have to charge so Val could get his cut?)

Charlie doesn’t want to exploit Angel that way, but Angel starts listing off all of his highly exploitable attributes.  He lists the legs twice, which is hilarious, but I’m immediately zeroed in on “the gag reflex.” 

You’d think that for someone who makes a significant amount of his living sucking dick that it should be “the lack of a gag reflex” but the thing about Angel is that he’s not exactly sucking dick for the nicest guys around.  Honestly, the fact that he does have a gag reflex and therefore will be gagging and choking and drooling is probably a turn-on for his usual partners.

We’re interrupted from Angel attempting to “keep going all night, baby,” by Lucifer calling, and the fact that his contact image in Charlie’s phone is a rubber duck in Lucifer’s top hat is honestly too cute?

Angel wants to know why Alastor can’t just make people stay in the hotel.  And the timing on this animation is actually a little weird.  After he says that he can, Husk chimes in with “Why do you think I’m here?” but Alastor is already moving to see around Vaggie as Husk starts talking.  Has he primed Husk to be his hype man if someone starts asking questions like this?

Here's Alastor, looking at Husk before Angel and Vaggie even turn their heads – and Alastor had to move his whole *torso* to see around Vaggie.

A: “Now, remember.  If anyone starts asking if I’m big and bad, you say yes.”

H: “Sure, Alastor.”

A: “I mean, I’ll say so first.  But then you jump in and talk me up.”

H: “Yeah, all right.”

A: “But, like, right away.”

H: “Uh-huh.”

A: “Should we practice?  We should practice.”

I do find it funny that we know the timeline – Alastor, Husk, and Niffty have been at the hotel a week per Vaggie’s words earlier.  But Husk is already grousing about them bitching and moaning all the time.  It’s been seven days?!  How much bitching and moaning are you guys doing?!  And it’s not just listening to, like, Angel bitch and moan.  It’s “you fucks.” 

(Or “you fuck’s” because Amazon doesn’t know how to pluralize a swear word?) 

Vaggie didn’t even want a bar, but I’m betting it took her about two piscos on the rocks to be over that.

We also get our official series intro to Niffty here when she says “I like being forced!” in her happy little voice with a wide smile. 

(God, I want the Niffty episode.)

Angel starts hitting on Husk, but (YMMV) I feel like at this point Angel isn’t trampling all over Husk’s boundaries the way he does later.  He’s just throwing passes and Husk is kind of engaging him?  By responding?  He threatens Angel, making it clear that the flirting is unwelcome, absolutely. 

But I kind of want to see where the conversation would have gone if Vaggie hadn’t stepped in.  At some point it might have gotten snappier, but Angel wasn’t in meltdown mode like he is in “Masquerade” so they probably could have kept bickering for a bit.

Vaggie and Angel start talking about the core premise of the show.  Is Hell the end of the road?  Maybe, but also maybe not.  Charlie thinks that it’s worth trying so that’s what Vaggie is going to do.

We as rewatchers know that where you end up in the afterlife isn’t as permanent of an assignment as the show makes it sound.  And Vaggie I’m sure highly suspects so as well.  This conversation is literally happening with one person who was in Heaven and now lives in Hell.

Though I do have to wonder if there’s a teeny tiny part of Vaggie that hopes the hotel fails, though?  If Sinners really can be redeemed into Heaven, then she has to double/triple/quadruple think about what she’s done as an Exorcist.  If the Sinners prove irredeemable, it doesn’t *justify* what she did or anything, but it could potentially relieve some of the guilt for her.

(Blake Roman’s delivery on “crack is expensive” is my favorite moment from episode 1.)

If we didn’t know that Charlie was drowning in daddy issues, I feel like we get a good demonstration at the end of her phone call.  Yes, she’s excited and happy and hopeful.  But she also says “Okay” and hangs up. 

Maybe Lucifer said, “I’ll talk to you soon” or something and she said “okay” back.  But I never hang up after a call with my dad without a “love you, bye.”

IDK why Charlie calls Vaggie over except to show her hyperactive squirrel brain going wild.  Alastor and Angel are staring at them and seem like they can hear every word even after Charlie had Vaggie come around the corner.

Vaggie knows that Charlie means Adam, right?  She has to.  Charlie says “the leader of the angel army” and as of now, I mean… that’s Adam.

Also, initially I missed the detail that Adam was the one to call the meeting. 

Was he going to inform Lucifer face-to-(virtual)-face that they were moving up the next extermination?  Do Lucifer and Adam meet regularly?  I think not from some of the dialogue in episode 8, but then what is the Heaven Embassy for?

(We'll pick up in Episode 1, Part 2 due to Tumblr's 30 images-per-post limit.)

[ingravinoveritas]

hi again! you might already know about this, but i really felt like bringing it up to you!

turns out michael's mom is pretty active on twitter and these past few days she's been engaging nonstop with tweets talking about aziracrow being in love. she's definitelymichael's #1 fan, but i couldn't help noticing the amount of not-about-characters stuff she seems to engage with too. Among tweets talking about Aziraphale's loving stare, queer fans making our usual queer jokes and remarks about them, michael reading fanfiction, miles maitland gifs, there's a good amount of... this. She surely has liked random stuff among the 14.6k rts/likes she has, so i'm attatching some examples of what she's been liking and rting because-- what the hell (i even spotted one of your tweets in the mix!) she even liked a tweet calling AL and GT innefable wives ??

my first thought was how embarrased i'd personally be if my mom was seeing comments online about me and my best buddy being madly in love, let alone engaging with them, but after it settled i'm just... in awe that this probably +70 y/o woman is being this supportive over social media 😭 so heart warming (btw i'm sorry for randomly popping up into your questions twice today- i have literally made this account after finding yours, feeling a bit less alone in the world)

(Grouping these two Asks together since they are related.) Ask #1: Hi there! No need at all to apologize for being in my inbox twice in same day. I'm so glad that my blog has been helpful and meaningful to you, and that you felt compelled to write in as a result. Welcome aboard!

So, Mama Sheen. She's been doing this for years--at least since 2019, when I first started following Michael on Twitter--but I will tell you my slightly crackpot theory, which is that for a while back in the day, I thought that maybe her account was actually Michael's secret alt account. (What better place to hide than in plain sight, after all...). I'm not so sure about that now, of course, but it's been really interesting to see her retweeting so much shippy stuff involving Michael and David, and as both you and @tamose pointed out, she especially seems to have ramped it up since GO 2 came out.

I also wanted to touch on you describing Mama Sheen as Michael's #1 fan, because although I wholeheartedly agree, it's a curious thing to me that we can more easily see her as Michael's number one fan than his own girlfriend. It's Mama Sheen--not AL--who has been retweeting all of this, who's been cheering him on, engaging with fan content, and retweeting all things Ineffable Husbands/GO 2. I've written on my blog previously about how I've never really seen AL be supportive of him (and how she spent much of 2020 and 2021 making fun of his appearance/fat-shaming him), as well as how she is not at all part of that polyamorous/throuple dynamic with Michael, David, and Georgia. And while I know the lack of engagement and carefully calculated interactions/posts could be chalked up to her not being able to promote the show due to the SAG strike, that doesn't really excuse her tepid support of Michael himself.

(Also, don't even get me started on the cringeyness of Georgia and AL as Ineffable Wives, not to mention how insulting it is to David and Michael personally and to their work as professionals to suggest that they are replaceable/that Georgia and AL (or anyone else) could play Aziraphale and Crowley and give us the same dynamic and chemistry we saw on screen...)

But yes, going back to Mama Sheen, I have long thought that she seems to ship Michael and David, and how sweet and heartwarming it would be if Michael brought David over for tea or dinner--especially because his own mother passed away several years ago--and no doubt Mama Sheen would dote on him and make sure he's fed and happy. It's especially interesting to contemplate when we see this picture from the Bright Young Things UK premiere in 2003, which almost looks like Mama (and Papa) Sheen posing with Michael and his kilt-wearing Scottish boyfriend:

Beautiful. Well, it's certainly something delightful to think about, at any rate. Whatever the case may be, I fully agree that it is lovely to see Michael's mom being so supportive and accepting of her son, particularly in the midst of such a hostile, anti-LGBTQ climate in the UK. We love you, Mama Sheen! ❤️