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astoryisaloveaffair · 1 day

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Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood.

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye. The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees. The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane.

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later.

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead.

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?”

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them.

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks.

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.”

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide.

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now.

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her. “How could you?”

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips.

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life.

“Bebita.�� He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself.

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes.

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it.

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to?

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends.

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence.

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him?

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

#fix you fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

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ye-xiu · 9 months

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I NEED A WAY WE CAN DREAM ON ... ⤿ for @kimtaegis ♡

mixed media collage: sketch paper, map of the soul: 7 photobook, jotter pad paper, digital photos and editing.

#happy birthday my love my beloved my bestie !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i love you so much thank you for being a part of my life thank you for being one of my closest friends thank you for being who you are #i wish you nothing but the best i hope you like this little thing i made !!!!#took a page out of my fave editor's book (YES THAT'S U) and while this is barely as out there i wanted something that felt like u #and a little bit like me ...... hence the textures u knowww how i am #jimin #park jimin #bts #btsgfx #pjmdaily #annietrack #scan cr: myself LMAO #*gfx

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thedeadthree · 2 months

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🌞 CYTHIA -`. the witcher • ♟️KAROLINA -`. btaj

🕯️ NYNEVE -`. vtm • 🐦‍⬛ IRINA (pre embrace) -`. vtm

🪩 ANAIS -`. vtm: night road • 🪞ILEANA -`. vtmb

🧚 ALKYONE -`. coral island • 🌪️ VAERMINA -`. bg3

TAGGED BY @crownrots, @corvosattano, @risingsh0t, @cloudofbutterflies92, @kyber-infinitygems, and @carlosoliveiraa to make a few of the dearies using this dollmaker !!!!! tyty!!

TAGGING: @seluneite, @jendoe, @sunites, @rosenfey, @lavampira, @leviiackrman, @unholymilf, @gwynbleidd, @queennymeria, @aezyrraeshh, @marazhaiaezyrraesh, @full---ofstarlight, @nightbloodbix, @jackiesarch, @florbelles, @marivenah, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @yharnams, @shadowglens, @anoras, @celticwoman, @pinkfey, @shellibisshe, @faerune, @alltoowelltv, @adelaidedrubman, @grapecaseschoices, @sussoro, @griffin-wood, @bloodofvalyria, @dickytwister, @loriane-elmuerto, @timdownie, @theviridianbunny, @riikugan, @vvanessaives, @raphaelsboudoir, @ryomenscurse, and you!!

#only if you want to!! 🌸💕#oc: cythia vassermiller #oc: karolina pajari #oc: nyneve selwyn #oc: irina rurik #oc: anais moujahid #oc: ileana dragomir #oc: alkyone uesugi #yone uses they/she btw!! <3 #oc: vaermina vanthampur #i am over the moon so happy the besties are getting into v/tm bc my hyperfixation has returned and i missed them sm 🥀🥹<3 !!!!!#cy’s birthday is on the 6th of march so eeeeek but anyway SHEE !!#and recently caught up with the breach demo and breach!karolina is back on the brain HEHE <3 #(alsoo please read it btw yall will lovee it and i have such brainrot about it and i want to yell about it SOO BAD #irina my princess secret plague doctor before the eldest embraced her in the first city 🥀🤧#ileana my v/entrue girlie !!!!!!! thats the babiee i missed her sm 🥀🥹#pov: ur anais u would rather be with your beloved that was beckoned but you went to s*eattle bc you were to be made regent there it’s fun :#🌌 galaxy brained 🌌 of me to make ‘boots’ that were more fitting to vaers aesthetics by using the flats and the thigh high socks i think 💕😌#vaer circa act 1 my DEARIEE!!!!!! storm sorceress girlie!!#yone thriving as they should be <3 a fantasy writer that never left their mythology and faerie phase and wooing one of the merfolk w/s*emer #leg.ocs #leg.tagged #t: picrews #<- ish kzjxjxh <3 #and TYTY!! i missed doing picrews sm !!!!!! 🌸💕🥹

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wouyoungarchive · 2 years

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happy yeosang day !

#kang yeosang #ateezedit #ateez #yeosang #*#kpopco #kpopccc #ultkpopnetwork #tuserjazzy #tusersofie #lunanuggets #userfairy #meganbyte #majatual #bangzchan #jaybrainrot #happy happy happy birthday to my bestie my bias my beloved boy !!!!#i would give my life for you truly truly your smile is the best thing my two gay eyes have ever seen #i love you more than life i hope you have a blessed year full of love and happiness <3

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queen0fm0nsterz · 2 years

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Mother of Mine.

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she-wont-miss · 1 year

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@willelfanpage happy birthday!! posting your oneshot here bc i can't schedule ao3 posts & i'm going to be away for ur birthday :)

i've got a lil elmax confession fic as my gift <3 enjoy!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43901880

#ily sara <3 #evie writes #evie's writing #happy birthday bestie!#elmax #lesbian el hopper my beloved #bi max mayfield #kissing in the rain <33 #love letters #love confessions

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leclerc-s · 3 months

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the blue - part eight

series masterlist // previous // next

zendaya amelia grace holland be honest. how many songs ave you written about oscar?

amelia holland

sam holland the better question is how many songs have you written about fake scenarios in your head?

amelia holland oh that one's easy at least five. this month. i've got a really good one called i should hate you, i wrote that one with aaron.

tuwaine barrett DID CHARLES HELP PRODUCE THIS AGAIN??

amelia holland i think he almost shit himself when he found out aaron was also producing this one. tuwaine barrett CHAMELIA MY BELOVED! GET THIS MAN ON STAGE WITH TAYLOR FOR A SURPRISE SONG! amelia holland he's been on my ass about that to. did you team up with him or something? tuwaine barrett why? did he say someting?

harry holland speaking of charles, how's texas? is it fun?

amelia holland it's hot as fuck.

amelia holland you're in texas now? any plans on coming home?

amelia holland kinda promised oscar and lando that i'd stick around for the triple header. there's a week off in between vegas and brazil but lando's birthday is a few days before vegas and abu dhabi is the next weekend. so i'm not sure. might be home for a couple days at most.

harrison osterfield it's almost like oscar's career is monopolizing all of your time

sam holland for the record none of us have problem with it. this is the first time in a long time we've seen you happy. if traveling with oscar makes you happy, do it. harrison's being a dick, ignore him. but like also please come home for the holidays?

amelia holland is that his default setting? - danny ric

amelia holland sorry about that, the fake american took my phone.

amelia holland real american here, is that his default setting? - logan sargeant

amelia holland charles here! is that his default?

amelia holland this group is tragic. ours is much more fun - max

amelia holland I CAN FINALLY STOPPED BE CALLED NORIZZ BECAUSE CLEARLY THE SECOND STRING LOSER HAS LESS THAN ME! - LANDO

amelia holland i would never piss a songwriter off because you'll be branded as the second string loser for the rest of your life. - pierre

amelia holland i swear they’re normally house-trained - oscar

amelia holland he's lying - alex

tom holland YOU HAVE A GROUPCHAT WITH THEM??

amelia holland it's quite fun. murder is threatened at least 3 times a day and lestappen is in full force. it is no just for the camera, i genuinely think they're in love with each other

amelia holland yuki’s quite violent, in case anyone was wondering. he may be pocket sized but he holds a lot of rage

harry holland and who exactly is in this group chat and why haven’t we been invited?

amelia holland the twitch quartet, max, daniel, yukierre, estie bestie and his two husbands, twinkclaren, and me

harrison osterfield you call your boyfriend a twink?

amelia holland it’s a term of endearment - lando

amelia holland she calls lando a fucking weenie and she called someone a weird second string loser, so i’m okay with twink - oscar

amelia holland WE'RE KIDNAPPING AMELIA! WE'RE IN TEXAS BABY! - DANNY RIC

amelia holland SAVE US! - CHARLES & MAX

ameliaholland posted new stories

someone's super excited to be back in texas COTA! pre-quali look with oscaroo. he's not happy at the moment, says it's too hot to be in texas. i agree. :) logan said he knew a place and took us to cane's. clearly one of them is happy to be here.

ameliaholland the plans made it out of the group chat, so when in texas...

tagged: oscarpiastri, lilymhe, francesca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, danielricciardo, landonorris, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, alex_albon, logansargeant, yukitsunoda, pierregasly, georgerussell63, estebanocon, mickschumacher, lancestroll

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tuwaine I HAVE NEVER WANTED TO BE IN TEXAS SO BAD

↳ ameliaholland you're missing out so bad tuwaine

tomholland2013 AMELIA GRACE HOLLAND YOU BETTER NOT BE DRINKING!

↳ ameliaholland i'm not? there's a heineken in my hand? it's non alcoholic.

↳ landonorris she literally had shots with max. she's a liar.

↳ ameliaholland shut the fuck up norizz.

username oh god, i've never wanted to be apart of a friend group this bad

username thank goodness someone put boots on the correct way. if i saw another picture or video of the drivers with their jeans tucked into their boots i would riot.

↳ username i hope daniel scolded them for doing so.

samholland1999 PUT SOME PANTS ON AMELIA!

↳ ameliaholland I AM WEARING PANTS! IT'S CALLED SHORTS DINGBAT! IT'S HOT IN TEXAS

username now this is a group i never thought i would see hanging out. at least not all of them together.

username this is so iconic of them wtf?

georgerussell63 i have never met someone who can out drink max, please join us the next time we go out.

↳ harryholland64 did not know my little sister can out drink max verstappen but i'm somehow proud?

↳ username this just in, something max verstappen is not good at doing, out drinking amelia holland.

lilymhe we have to do this again!

↳ francesca.cgomes we do!

↳ alexandrasaintmleux oh, we should

↳ ameliaholland give me a time a place and i'll be there!

↳ carmenmundt count me in too! i would love to meet amelia.

↳ username icons meeting other icons, love to see it.

finish the lyrics with lando norris and oscar piastri

comments

user we were robbed of cowboy oscar!

user lando and the holland brothers being the captains of the oscar x amelia ship is so funny to me

user but who did lando call a dick and why?

↳ user probably harrison, if the context clues we've been provided are anything to go by.

↳ user lando has been their biggest defender since day 1 and i stand by that

user was i the only one who caught that brocedes reference?

↳ user lando knew what he was doing making that joke.

user lando casually wanted to remind everyone that oscar's brother-in-law is spider-man.

↳ user had to quickly flex on spidey's biggest fan, estie.

user and to think this whole joke started because of a taylor song.

user HE CALLED HIM A MUPPET!! THIS IS MONUMENTAL!

user lando is oscar and amelia's biggest defender, you can't change my mind.

↳ user it's oscmelia girl, get it right.

↳ user you're right my bad, terribly sorry.

harrison osterfield i don't exactly appreciate your friend and boyfriend calling me a dick online.

amelia holland and i didn't appreciate being strung along for almost 2 years...

sam holland HOW LONG?

tom holland but he was with his ex for almost a year?

tuwaine barrett oh damn

harry holland you have got to be fucking kidding me harrison.

zendaya never trust blonde men with blue eyes

amelia holland what about max and logan? zendaya never trust blonde men with blue eyes whose name starts with an h or a j. those two you can trust.

tom holland by the way how's oscar doing? we watched the race.

amelia holland a bit bummed about the dnf but that's the way things go in this sport. besides it's not like it can get any worse than this.

TWO HOURS LATER

amelia holland HOW COULD I BE SO FUCKING WRONG?!

ameliaholland posted new stories

💋 i'm totally going to lose tonight... you're looking at the winner of the bowling tournament. it was luck really, but operation cheer up charles and oscar was a success.

taglist: @six-call @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @woozarts @dear-fifi @tygecjjd @cataf1 @nothaqks @caipng @nataliambc @formulaal @lichterfee @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @hobiismyhopeu @melissayalene @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @nichmeddar @namgification @anniemae299

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! just when you think he can't get any worse, he does! i have very strong opinions about texas, in case that wasn't obvious. texas was my breaking point + brazil, in case you couldn't tell who my favorite drivers were, you do now.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #the blue series #formula 1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x female oc #formula 1 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #f1 #f1 smau #f1 fic #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au

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xiaosonlybeloved · 1 year

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Arguments- Ayato

featuring:- Kamisato Ayato, fem!Y/N warnings:- angst, fluff, a small argument a/n:- and this, is my birthday gift to @kazuuaki , happy birthday bestie! <3 Enjoy your day! (Was originally gonna make this a breakup but changed my mind~) It's short, I know- but it's all i managed to do

masterlist

“You should take a break, ‘Yato. You’ve been working for hours nonstop.” You said, concerned about your boyfriend. He seemed like he’d had enough, the expression on his face anything but pleasant. Wanting him to unwind for a bit, you suggested, “Maybe we could go for a short walk along the beach? That would surely freshen you up a bit.”

“Get out.” he said coldly, eyes never leaving the countless papers scattered around his desk. “You’re disturbing me. These papers have to reach the Shogun by nightfall, I don’t have to time to rest, and you’re suggesting a walk? Idiot. Can you not see how busy I am?” He hadn’t had a break in ages, was completely sleep deprived (like me), big bags under his eyes and incredibly pissed off in general, increasing your worry for him. You tried again. “‘Yato, that’s why I’m saying you should relax for a bit. Some fresh air would do you good, you’re very agitated right now.” “Of course I am!” He snapped, slamming his hands on his cluttered desk as he stood to look at you. “You’ve been such a nuisance recently, you know that? Always nagging me, ‘Yato do this, ‘Yato do that. Can’t you take a hint and leave me alone?”

He missed the hurt that flashed in your eyes as you swiveled around. “Alright, Ayato, I’ll leave you alone.” You immediately left and banged the door shut behind you. And leave him alone you certainly did.

~⟬◍⟭~

It was early dawn, and the cold grey light filtered through the windows of Ayato’s dark office. He’d been there the entire night, and had just managed to dispatch that set of papers to Inazuma City. Leaning back in his chair, he thought of how you’d scold him for his unhealthy habits, before he remembered the way he’d snapped at you, and the hurtful things he’d said. Shit, he didn’t mean any of that, if anything, it touched him how you always looked out for him. He really owed you an apology, big time. He walked out of the office for the first time since yesterday’s lunch, and went straight to your quarters, knocking on the door. “Love, are you there? Can I talk to you?” He received no response. “Love?” He tried again.

Just then Thoma passed by, confused on seeing Ayato knocking fruitlessly on your door. “Milord, [Y/N] isn’t here. I believe she mentioned yesterday night that she was going out for a bit, somewhere around Watatsumi Island? It was weird, but she was also acting weird so I let her be. She also added that she had some urgent business there.”

“Oh..” Ayato murmured. “Alright.” But his heart did not calm down, the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach increasing. You two were dating. Surely you’d come back, right? Right?

~⟬◍⟭~

Wrong. It had been days, yet you still hadn’t returned. Ayato grew more and more worried with every passing hour. Were you safe? You hadn’t been ambushed or anything, had you? Were you upset? Were you angry with him? Had he really messed up that bad? Surely he didnt…

A week passed, and Ayato couldn’t take it anymore. He handed over the duties of the Yashiro Commission to Ayaka for a while, and set off for Watatsumi Island on a waverider in the dead of night. It took him an entire day to reach there, frantically searching for his beloved along the way. The moment he docked on the shores of Watatsumi Island, he immediately started searching around for your whereabouts, not even caring about hunger or thirst. Fear was the only thing he felt, a fear of you leaving him. The soldiers looked so confused on seeing the Yashiro Commissioner running around, but did not question it. One helpful recruit told him that she was wandering near the Sangonomiya Shrine, and off he was.

“[Y/N]!” He exclaimed, on finally, finally, catching sight of you sitting beneath a tree, a butterfly perched on your finger. The loud sound he made startled away the butterfly, and you looked up at him, before getting up and walking away without a word. “[Y/N], wait please, can I talk to you, please?” He pleaded, catching up to you. You merely shook off his hand and continued walking. “Why are you here, Kamisato Ayato.” You said coldly. “Your wish was for me to leave you alone, and I did that. Why are you following me then?” “[Y/N], I messed up, I know, can you please hear me out? I never meant any of that, I really didn’t, I swear. I was just really anxious and irritated and worried, and I let it out on you. I swear, I’ve been regretting it with every fibre of my being. I love you, you know that, I love you so much, you can never be a nuisance to me, in fact, you’re my saving grace. If I could take back everything I said, if I could turn back time, I would. [Y/N], please, could you forgive me? Please come back to me? I can’t live without you…”

Your eyes involuntarily softened as you stepped back a bit to observe him. He seemed even more tired and upset than the last time you’d seen him, if that was even possible. But this time, there was desperation painted on his features. “Ayato, you really hurt me, you know that right? I was worried for you, all I was trying to do was help you out. So when you snapped at me, I felt really terrible.” You told him quietly. He instantly said, “I know, I realised that. You have no idea how much I appreciate you always looking out for me. I never ever wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry… I’m really, really sorry [Y/N].” He whispered.

You sighed, extending your arms, hugging him tightly. “Come here, ‘Yato.” , and his heart nearly burst on hearing that nickname again after more than a week. He buried his face in your neck, relishing that warm and soft embrace of yours after so long. You gently ran your hands through his hair. “Apology accepted. But you better not do it again, or else-” “I won’t.” He quickly said. “Did I tell you how much I love that nickname?”

You returned with him to the Yashiro Estate, and ever since then, Ayato had been so much sweeter, always minding his words, and spoiling you rotten, despite your protests. But you accepted it, happy to be with your caring boyfriend again.

hehe kazu, i hoped you liked it, even tho its not much :)

#skylia's works #genshin impact #genshin #genshin angst #genshin fluff #genshin hurt/comfort #genshin ayato #kamisato ayato #ayato #ayato x reader #genshin oneshots #genshin scenarios #genshin drabbles #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #birthday gift for:- kazu #happy birthday kazu!

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ceebit · 1 year

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birthday aches ✦ j. hong

note : happy birthday ?? to my bestie ?? crying crying crying ok. hope he stuffed himself full with cake and rests well :’) idk what else to say that isn’t me just crying so here’s a birthday post for my beloved. <3

wc : 1.7k. fluff. emotional ? tears definitely. ok. [cries]

“do i have something on my face?”

he blinks slowly, dazed look sharpening to something much more focused, and allows himself to be subject to the laughter that crackles through the speakers of his phone. you’re squinting at him teasingly like you always do, brows drawn downwards in disbelief.

“am i no longer allowed to admire artwork anymore?” his voice drawls out lazily, stretching out before snuggling further into his blanket. you roll your eyes like he knew you would, but he knows there’s a smile hidden underneath the bundle of your scarf.

it’s hard, sometimes—being away from you for so long, especially during the holidays. with concerts and fan signs and so many little things to complete before the year is over, he hardly has time to catch up with you and the life that you live. (that doesn’t include him, he oftens thinks bitterly, and resigns himself to feeling low until one of the guys eventually drag him out and about.)

he loves his dream. loves being on stage, loves being surrounded by people who love him and his members for the career he chose but he wishes you were here with him every step of the way. he supposes it’s karma, you falling in love with the people’s person. a humbling experience to remind him what he’s chosen to do.

support is never wavering with you, though. no matter what city you’re in or the difference in time zones, you’ve never missed a single good luck message before a performance or a call to soothe his fear and anxieties of underperforming. you’ve become his forever constant, from that fateful mix up in his schedule to years up the ladder of success, and he’s grateful for you in ways he can’t even begin to describe.

he just, you know. wishes you could have been by his side for all of it.

he zones back in to gentle calls of his name, offering a tired smile to the questioning look you send him. “the concert was a bit exhausting,” he explains. “i don’t think my body has quite yet… come down from the high, if that makes sense?”

you hum in both understanding and sympathy, and he knows that if you were here, he’d be squeezed into your arms and rocked side to side for a bit.

“i’m just glad you have some time to relax for your birthday,” you grin, your sincerity seeping through the screen. “you deserve the rest, shua. i hate seeing you so tired all the time.”

i haven’t slept well since the last time i touched you, he wants to say. i sleep better knowing i’ll turn you’ll still be there. i haven’t felt the texture of your skin in months and it’s driving me up the wall but he smiles and nods and promises to try for you.

“is it cold where you are? i hope you’re staying warm.”

you read between the lines as always, glancing back at the screen to offer a smile. “is this the part where i say ‘i only feel warm with you’?”

“whatever makes you happiest, dear.” and you laugh and it soothes the ache just a little bit.

he wants to talk about your travels. the sights you’ve seen, the people you’ve met, and the things you’ve done. but all thoughts of uttering a single word considering your worldwide trek comes to a halt when you look up yet again, and he can’t help but blurt, “are you busy? you know it doesn’t matter if you call today. i know it’s a lot of—”

“don’t be silly, you know i’ll always make time for you.” your frown is almost offended, and he burrows himself deeper into the covers under your stare. “busy or not, you’re important to me!”

he nods. understood. his heart kicks its feet giddily.

“i’m just. hoping i don’t be late to this thing i’m rushing to. it’s kind of time sensitive?” you huff in annoyance, cold air fogging around your face. “it’s really important to me.”

“and you want me to stay on the phone with you?” you nod and his chest warms significantly. “just say you’re in love with me or something.”

“i’m in love with you,” you reply simply, shaking your head soon after when he calls you a sap.

you chat aimlessly for a bit longer, filling the distance with your mindless thoughts on topics he threw at you and in turn, asking him about his hopes for the new year. it’s the same each and every year—to spend more time with you—and he knows you just like to hear him say it, but it rings a bit of a sad truth.

he wants to settle down with you. wants to do mundane things like bicker over losing socks in the laundry and grocery shop with you in the afternoon and spoon feed you soup when you don’t feel your best. he wants it with enough passion to self combust, after years of getting by with glimpses of you. he can’t stand the distance, but beggars can’t be choosers.

it sours his mood, and like always, you notice.

“shua.” his hum is faint, lingering in the air. “can you go to your front door? i think my present should have arrived by now?”

“you got me a gift?” his gaze darts to the door, squinting as if he could see through it if he tried hard enough. you stifle a laugh. “what is it?”

“open your door and find out, genius.”

slowly, he patters out of the living room and towards the main hallway, phone in hand at your request to see his reaction. he sees you bite your lip in anticipation and his heart thunders.

“will i like it?” he’s nervous but he doesn’t know why. “what am i talking about? of course i’ll like it, it’s from you.”

“sweet talker,” you tease, “but you’re stalling. i don’t want porch pirates to steal it!”

“i live in an apartment?”

“don’t be a smartass.” you’ve lost the bite to your words, though. you’re grinning openingly, excitement highlighting your features, and he wonders just what you might have waiting for him behind the door.

it could have been anything, really. he was expecting an actual present from the way you urged him on. not… one of his friends dressed head to toe in red.

“took you long enough,” jeonghan gripes, and rolls his eyes in faux annoyance when you laugh. “hello to you, too.”

“hi, hannie,” you greet sweetly, offering a smile when joshua looks down at his screen in confusion. “your present isn’t our dear friend’s presence, though.”

“how unfortunate for you,” the latter sniffs. “i’m a fucking delight to have around. your loss.”

“hannie’s gonna blindfold and lead you somewhere, okay? it’s all safe, promise.”

“can’t guarantee he won’t be a bit bruised,” jeonghan pipes up as he produces a white blindfold, grinning cheekily as joshua glances at him wearily. “i’m joking. yn, tell him i’m joking.”

“if i come back and i see a hair on his head misplaced, you won’t like it.”

“yeah, whatever.”

jeonghan leads him down what seems to be a hallway, the lights on the ceiling faintly visible through the fabric, and then he hears the telltale sound of the elevator reaching his floor. he’s quickly ushered inside, gripping his hand for dear life when it begins to descend.

“you still there?” you ask gently, phone still gripped in his other. he nods, frowning slightly when jeonghan stifles a snort. “words, sweetheart. you okay?”

“a little tense, but i’m okay.”

“he’s breaking my hand.”

“ignore him,” you try to soothe him, and he cracks a smile when the other lets out a faint hmph. “it’ll be over quickly. in fact, if i’m timing this correctly—”

the elevator stalls, another faint ding signaling their arrival.

“—you should be here soon, too.”

here? weren’t you out of the country? he wants to ask what you could possibly mean by that when you’re definitely thousands of miles away from him—but he hears the doors slide open and the sound of you hanging up the phone abruptly. he startles when he’s tugged out the elevator and stumbles over his feet, steadied only when he’s stopped suddenly.

hands clap against his shoulders. “wait right here,” he hears his friend say. and without waiting for some semblance of a response, his footsteps fade away.

well. if he died, he knew very well who he’d be haunting.

phone tucked into the pockets of his pajamas, his hands wring nervously, itching to grant himself the gift of sight once more. and why did you suddenly hang up? he hopes you’re okay. anything could happen these days, and he’d be damned if anything happened to you—

a pair of arms circle around his waist. he tenses, skin chilled from the slight press of cold fabric against his white shirt, and holds his breath. silence tears him apart for what seems like hours. then,

“you can take off the blindfold.”

his heart drops sixty feet into the ground, and then soars right back up into the sky.

laughter swarms his ears as he hastily undoes the knot tied sloppily at the back of his head, light swarming back unforgivingly, but he doesn’t care. not when he’s sure he’s just just heard your voice.

he blinks rapidly, silently begging for his vision to clear.

“don’t cry,” you laugh, hands moving to cup his face, and now he’s definitely crying, crushing you to his body and burying his face into your neck. how couldn’t he? when it’s been months since he’s last seen you, since he’s last gotten to hold you?

he needs to take the time to memorize the shape of you again. needs to run his hands over the curves and dips, overwhelmed by your sudden presence with the need to touch like a man starved.

“i thought you…” he tries to say, but all the words he’s ever practiced to say to your face fall apart the second the tips of your thumbs brush away stray tears.

“early flight. someone pulled enough strings.”

jeonghan halfheartedly salutes somewhere behind your head, and any and all thoughts of haunting him quickly dissipates. he’ll get him a cheese platter or something. just as soon as he gets used to having you this close once again.

“happy birthday,” you whisper into his embrace. his response is something akin to a sob, embarrassingly so, but you only squeeze him tighter in response.

“missed you.” please don’t leave again. “missed you so much.”

“i’m not going anywhere.” i’m here.

back home ⟡ the archive ⟡ join my taglist ⟡ last post

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1moremilgram-enjoyer · 6 months

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Oh my God hold on just learnt something. You remember that one interrogation question that came out recently? The one I've been rotating in my mind non-stop?

(T2) Q8: If you had to make one of the prisoners part of your family, who would you choose?

Amane: Mahiru Shiina. Her innate goodness might have brought the two of us closer, maybe.

I was researching Stuff for a Thing, and I noticed something in the Timelines. Back before her verdict from Trial 1, Amane referred to everyone by first name. Check the dates carefully (I'll note them the Japanese way, translations here)

20/08/01 Amane: You’re a really strange person, Haruka-san.

21/06/27 Amane: Shidou-san, I can’t say I’m especially fond of the way you assume that all children will love frivolous things like this.

22/04/19 Amane: Oh, were you talking to yourself, Fuuta-san? Or maybe there’s something there you’re able to see?

And more examples further back. Yes, even Shidou. That last one from April 2022 is the last time that happened, because she later switched to calling everyone ever by last name and first name, which is a lot more formal and generally doesn't sound so friendly.

23/6/27 Amane: What is it…… Kashiki Yuno.

23/4/19 Amane: No. I just came to observe. To see what people are thinking. To see who is being corrupted. What about you, Kajiyama Fuuta? [...] Kajiyama Fuuta, by coincidence today happens to be your birthday, correct?

22/10/24 Amane: ……Kirisaki Shidou. How long do you plan on continuing this foolish behaviour?

Except in one case. After the first time in that last one (22/10/24), and just three months before the Fuuta one (23/4/19).

23/01/17 Amane: Happy birthday. Mahiru-san.

Your honor, they're besties. 0608 my beloved.

#milgram #amane momose #mahiru shiina #0608 #im falling in love with the dynamic more every day #this is pretty small and i assume a lot of people knew already but oh well #i gotta share

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theold-ultraviolence · 1 year

Note

Bestie i’m having the shittest few days. I know you’re not here to entertain but can you give me any fluffy modern!Aemond headcanons because I feel like I’m gonna crumble 🙃

Hey there!! I’ve also been having a really tough time lately, but I’m always happy to come up with things modern!Aemond, beloved. These are gonna be random as hell because I’m gonna write them as they come to my mind lmao

Modern!Aemond random fluff headcanons

This is 100% sponsored by my 🌗 anon: while he wears very expensive cologne mostly, he also has his own fragrance specifically made for him. As a gift for his partner, he has one made for you and because he’s a possessive little shit, he adds some of the notes on his fragrance in yours.

He loves to have days where he indulges with his partner and you pamper each other with facial masks or hair treatments, etc. His long, shiny hair? his partner helps him take care of it, of course.

Loves to accompany you for errands and any other kind of appointment you have. If you’re getting your hair cut, or your nails done, etc. He loves to sit in a corner and stand up to walk you out or wait with you in line while you pay, because he’s like “yes, I’m with them 😌”

Like, he’ll never complain about you taking a lot of time doing your errands or anything, he doesn’t mind waiting. He just pulls out a book and he’s good to go.

He definitely has a dragon plushie to snuggle with. We can be extra self-indulgent and say that it’s his partner who gives it to him for valentine’s day or his birthday.

He loves to spoon his partner from behind to wrap his arms around their tummy and nuzzle the crook of their neck.

He’d be very awkward with children in general, except for his own.

He has a taste for fine, expensive things. So he loves to spoil you the most by taking you to very fancy restaurants and cafés.

You’d think his coffee order would be an espresso but he loves a cappuccino with brown sugar. Regardless, he loves his coffee strong.

And he has a bit of a sweet tooth, so every now and then, just because he can, he’ll get himself a big box of truffles from his favorite chocolate shop. Yes, for himself. He won’t share them with you lmao.

Maybe he’ll share one or two but that’s it. He’d rather buy you your own box so you won’t steal from his.

He loves it when you nap with your head cushioned on his chest because he can caress your hair.

He thinks he’s an awkward dancer, so he’ll never take you out properly to dance. But he does love to put on your favorite record on his turntable (because, of course he has one) and begin to sway softly to the rhythm of the music with you.

This is the silliest thing but in ‘Energy’ by Beyoncé, there’s a lyric that says ‘she more Cancún, he more Saint-Tropez’ and since the moment I heard that I was like, ‘places where you and Aemond go on vacation.’ (Because I definitely would suggest Cancun if he was my bf and we were planning a trip 🙊)

#aemond targaryen #modern!aemond #aemond targaryen headcanons #aemond targaryen hcs #modern!aemond headcanons #modern!aemond hcs #house of the dragon #hotd #headcanons #my writing #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #reader insert #fanfiction

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

Text

Namesday

jacaerys velaryon x reader x aemond targaryen A/N: a very special smutty late birthday present for my beloved wifey @its-actually-minicika and favourite jacaerys defender 💪 happy birthday bestie! ily mwah i hope you like it ♡ pronouns: she/her warnings: smuttity smut smut divider: galacticgraffiti wordcount: 2,135

Jacaerys’ hands glide up the length of your waist as you rock yourself back and forth on his laps before settling on your hips. A gentle grunt drips from his mouth and his eyes flutter closed. Your smirk cheekily at him, pride oozing from your lips. Your betrothed opens his eyes again and cups your cheek. He bites his lip and dips his head to kiss up your soft neck, leaving wet blushing marks in their wake, a silent claim. Pink swollen lips press to your jawline as they line up behind you to your ear, unfamiliar ones. A gasp ripples past your own but your own sweet noises deepen as new fingers cup your breasts and flick the nipples. Your head turns to the side to find your unknown accompaniment. Your eyes widen and your breath hitches at the one eyed man grinning deviously at your reactions. You would jump if Jace’s hands weren’t firmly pressing you down. “I’ve seen how you look at him,” Your betrothed grins, pinching your side for attention. “I thought he would be more than willing to join us for one night…perhaps more. Happy namesday, my love.” He moves his hands to take your cheeks and pull a kiss from you, not for the first time this night. You preen into him but Aemond One-Eye Targaryen is not a man to be forgotten and pinches at your breasts to wrench another gasp before yanking you back to kiss you with bruising force but quickly soothing your abused lips with his warm tongue. He slides it along the slit of your mouth until demanding entry and slipping past the barrier. You can briefly hear Jacaerys chuckling before he jogs your hips up and down, having returned them back to their rightful place. It’s quick when Aemond turns you around with as much restraint as he can muster and presses your back into Jacaerys’ chest. His hand rises to the clasp of his eyepatch and snaps it off to cast aside on the floor before taking a hold of your jaw and roughly meeting lips again. “I want to give you all of me, tonight.” he breathes against your lips as you shiver at the feel of Jace’s gentle hand drifting to your exposed centre. His fingers drum against the bud that turns slick with his attention. He swears he knows your entrance better than he knows his own reflection. With slow strokes he tickles a long pace, letting your mewling whines echo into your new lover’s mouth. Aemond drinks them in with vigour and determination. Your hips grind against your betrothed’s pelvis with equal leisure.

Frustration ebbs at you with hitched breaths and the low groans of men carrying heavy demanding desires. Aemond flits his fingers over the buttons of his shirt and jacket, your hurried hands meet with his breeches, tugging at them until they drop to the floor and he can kick away the offending thick fabrics. A grumbling growl reverberates against his throat as he lets his lips descend upon your breast, tongue creeping across and teasing your perked pearls. When another moan slips through your teeth, Jace bobs you against his clothed crotch again and chuckles at the hiss you make. “Worry not, my darling, we are here to take care of you not torture you, though I think you would like that, hm?” You are unused to Jacaerys witty foreplay but it is not unwelcome as your breath catches at an intruding finger deftly slithering into your waiting core. Aemond’s silk hair tickles your arms now that it has been unleashed. You throw your head back to rest on Jace’s shoulder. “That’s it, sweet thing.” He coos. “Let us show you just how pretty we can make you. He takes his free hand to cup your cheek and direct you toward him so that he can kiss across your face mindlessly. You would giggle if he wasn’t still sliding his finger inside you with such purposefully deep thrusts. His thumb rubs soft circles over your bud, delighting in the benefits of your pleasure. Aemond’s tongue flattens against the sensitive curve of your breast and his hands entangle your own into his long hair, encouraging all and any attention. He pulls back to let his hot breath fan against the wetness he pressed into your skin. Jace slithers another finger and quickens his teasing pace. “Do you know how long I have waited to hear your sweet sounds? The lengths I have gone to to keep this escapade private?” Aemond murmured thickly. His narrowed eye flicks up to look into your own, throat flexing at the unbecoming image. His lips thin into a firm line and he cocks his head. “And yet you are both hiding it from me. Do that again and I will take my own fantasies.” His snapping voice betrays his wanting but reinforces his warning. His stare is probing and sharp–dangerous. “Do you understand?” You swallow and nod but he isn’t satisfied. Jace curls his fingers to evoke a loud yelp, your eyes squeezing shut. “Do you understand?” Aemond repeats and you manage to croak out a ‘yes’ to which he eagerly hums and lowers his head between your thighs. Jacaerys moves his thumb so that it can be swiftly replaced with his uncle’s tongue which flicks steadily against it. “Please,” You whimper out and again your betrothed chuckles at your desperation. It seems they are enjoying your misery.

Jace’s fingers stretch in your core, investigating every inch as Aemond’s tongue targets the most sensitive curves. He takes it further into his mouth and takes languid, squelching sucks. Jacaerys tilts your face down to look at the display with a cheeky smirk. “And we thought you were such a sweet girl, to be my darling wife and yet you need not only one prince but two to satisfy you, don’t you?” A moan dribbles as you babble hazy agreements. “You’re never going to be able to take my cock in this state.” He demeans teasingly. He tsks. Aemond and Jacaerys could not agree on much…but they could agree on claiming every inch of you and more. Your eyes stare wet and hazy as you watch the unholy sight. Aemond lets go, saliva connecting him to the mound even still. “A shame you have already taken her, Lord Strong.” Aemond hums. “I would have enjoyed her.” Jacaerys clenches his jaw and you feel his finger stiffen, thrusting even harder into you. “You might remember that she is to be my wife before you speak so brazenly, uncle.” He rivals. “A Queen one day in her own right.” He tightens his other hand onto your hip. Aemond hums again infuriatingly and smirks. “I might.” He agrees slowly but the storm is merely brewing. “Or I might remember the lewd noises I am drawing from her tongue.” Jace’s face flames and with resolute speed, he lifts you from his lap and takes away his fingers. Jacaerys turns you and slides his wet fingers into your warm mouth, eyes glinting and dark at the sight. It’s the first time you have seen such a possessive hold steal your prince so wantonly. Aemond chuckles as your rushing fingers untie your betrothed’s breeches–the only remnants of his clothing. Jacaerys groans into your mouth, one hand cupping your cheek again and another tugging you with him toward the large bed awaiting you. His fervent fingers curl around your rear and Aemond’ approaches slowly, standing tall and proud. He smiles wickedly as he lowers himself to kneel on the bed and then lay beside you. He runs ring-clad fingers along your cheek and gleams at the whimpers you let out at the cold steel.

“Doña riña.” (sweet girl) He soothes as your hand drifts to wrap again in his hair. He tuts but you can see the spark in his eye. That sets off before a fight breaks out. “You remember our deal, nephew.” He taunts your prince who sighs but reluctantly pecks your lips once more and settles beside you as Aemond slips in his place. Jace raises his own hand to entangle with your fingers, squeezing reassurance into you. “I have to make up for lost time.” Aemond grunts and he takes one of your hands to wrap around his girth. He shudders as he works himself with your nimble digits. You feel it thicken to grow in your palm, pointing toward you as straight as an arrow and throbbing. The round head pleads with you while its wielder bites back his groans. Jacaerys coos at you with ever-darkening eyes. His tongue darts to wet his lips and he grunts as he entangles a hand in your soft hair, tugging it as though coaxing a kitten. “You can take him, can’t you, darling?” He speaks with a slick sweetness. “Make him know what he’s been missing all this time?” A strangled noise escapes your lips as Aemond leans forward to rub the sensitive extension of himself over the gentle nub of your sex. Jacaerys kisses up the apple of your cheek when the first dip is made, Aemond’s appendage slipping snug inside. The white haired man almost rolls his eyes into the back of his head as he slides your left leg up his hip. A lewd snap of his hips drives him deeper. Jacaerys snakes an arm around your waist and flicks his fingers back on your pink bud. He turns your face to join your lips and swallow down your mewls greedily.

“Do you like that, Ñuhys qēlos?” (my star) Aemond teases with a growing smirk. His short groans lengthen the longer he warms himself in your sweet entrance. Jace’s tongue glides along the line of your lips and probes between them. His fingers work deftly on the height of your sensitivities. “Mm, I think you do.” He near mocks again but finds a light gasp leaving his lips when you wrap both legs around him and he almost loses his balance. With a quick motion you flip him onto the bed and change positions, landing your palms on his broad shoulders and legs planting on either side of his own. “You underestimate me.” Your quip and drive a large thrust to conjoin your bodies. Jacaerys chuckles and drops his head back on the bed as he does so before leaning his head on Aemond’s shoulder. “But that wasn’t the first mistake you made about my Queen.” He informs with pride rising up his throat and into his uncle’s ear who shudders. “You are forgetting who this is for, my princes.” Your voice turns firm and warning, eyes narrowing as your lips quirk up. It’s slowly that you lower and bob on the man beneath you. A shuddering groan drips from your mouth though he is not the largest you have taken. He may have claimed the largest named dragon but you like to think that your own may hold that title and not in the way one might assume. It is not Vermax that you think of, you think of his rider whom you seem to have claimed yourself…though you do much more than riding. “Then for that I send you my most earnest apologies.” Aemond borderline whines when you climb off of his, a clear string connecting you. His hands grapple at your waist but you’re much quicker than him and it doesn’t take you long to mount your familiar beloved dragon’s lap instead. His eyes glint mischievously as you grin down at him and glide onto his girth like you have done so many times before. From beside you, Aemond preens for attention, kissing up your shoulder and then your neck as your head tosses back, eyes sewing shut. He is lucky that you are merciful as you slide your fingers around to grip the cause of his pain and treat it to pleasures otherworldly unknown. Jacaerys’ familiar whimpers and moans fill your ears as you drop down onto his large girth. It is with swift bounces and grating hips that you roll through the waves of pleasure your soon-husband wreaks upon you. A choking moan slips past your teeth which you clamp down as you clamp around your lover’s cock. Your opening tightens and milks his worth from him, both of you growing weak in one another’s embrace. With the night almost spent, you release onto him as warm dribbles seep before shooting into you, Aemond’s own dripping onto the bed. “Have we pleased you, īlva dāria?” (Our Queen) Aemond hisses into your ear while your betrothed falls his back down on the soft mattress. Heavy breathing descends upon your sweet trio. “Not yet.” You snicker in response, wearing their need like a crown. It is going to be a long night…

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imastrangeone98 · 8 months

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Their Arms Round Him, Pressed As Though Forever

(A/N: happy birthday @philistiniphagottini !!! My tumblr bestie who has never failed to endorse my filthy ideas and shenanigans, ily so much bby 🩷🩷)

No warnings; also fun fact: kakashi was my first anime crush 💘

Konoha has been far too quiet. With the war finally over, you've dutifully kept your eyes peeled for your beloved husband's return, anxiously awaiting a sign from him, from his ninken, from anyone.

Yet he has not returned to you. It has now been weeks, with no sign of your lover, and you grow anxious.

You've done everything you could, from venturing out into the wilderness surrounding the village, to haunting the hallways of the hospital. Yet he has not returned. The only reassurances you have are from his squad members, and you grow restless from those as well.

Your heart aches once more. Another day gone by, yet no progress was made.

As you watch the moon rise with tears in your eyes, you heave out a heavy sigh and sluggishly prepare for bed. Another plate of leftovers for the fridge tonight.

"Where are you, you silly man..." you wonder aloud, stumbling into the bathroom only to stare at your own reflection.

Your hair is terrible. There are dark bags under your bloodshot eyes. You haven't washed your face in days, maybe even weeks.

You sigh. "I look like shit."

"Just a little bit."

With a scream, you jump away from the sound, scrambling to grab a weapon to defend yourself from this intruder, until warm hands wrap around your wrists and a body presses against you. Silver hair tickles your nose.

"Sorry I'm late. I had some business to take care of," your husband murmurs into your ear, softly kissing the skin in apology. "I'm home."

He smells of the woods, and antiseptic, and his ninken. He smells alive.

Tears stain your eyelids. Nothing you do could stop them from spilling down your cheeks. And you weep in his arms, finally able to let the stones on your chest fall to the ground so you can breathe.

"Deep breaths, love. You're gonna choke on your own air," he chuckles humorlessly. "I'm here now. I'm sorry I took so long. I wanted you to see this."

His warm hands gently wipes your eyes dry, briefly cradling your face in his palms before pulling away and reaching into his pocket to pull out a small box. "The Cloud Village is known for its steel jewelry... I figured I'd get a souvenir for you."

You jokingly pout at him. "That is one of the most dumbest reasons I've heard from you so far," you sniffle.

But you smile nonetheless, and when he pulls out the necklace, you let him clasp it on you.

But nothing could compare to the way he wraps his arms around you once more, wordlessly letting you know that he isn't disappearing again.

And he presses you close to his heart as the moon continues to rise, and you know that he is with you. Now and forever.

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A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY NAGA!! I'm so sorry it took so long to get out, school has been rough 😭 but I hope you like this short and sweet fluff!!

#naruto #kakashi hatake #kakashi x reader #forgive me for the shortness it's been a long week 😭#law school is a b*tvh rip

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incorrectsprolden · 1 year

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your heartstopper faves if we could see more of their social media accounts lol: 3/?— NICK NELSON

i’d like to think that nick would try to plan his instagram feed but he’s a bisexual, so he’d be a little indecisive; but he’s trying his best. i love him lol

i really wanna do michael’s instagram next, so drop your fave fancasts of him and other suggestions!!

click the links to check out my other edits; we have CHARLIE and TORI done so far. feel free to like, reblog or comment– i really appreciate it!!

liked by imogen.heaney, reading_with_isaac, cfspring, and 50 others

nicholaszzzzz: a bisexual and “an ally” go camping

[tagged imogen.heaney in a post]

imogen.heaney: that was such an embarrassing moment for me ENOUGH 😭😭

cfspring: i love your little friendship its so cute

imogen.heaney: besties since year 7 (real)

darcytheegg: my fave bisexual with his fave ally

the.xu.tao: me & imogen 🤝 being your supportive straight friends

itsellesuniverse: STOP!! did the tao xu just admit he’s friends with nick nelson

reading_with_isaac: caught 📸📸

liked by nottorispring, michaelholden123, itsellesuniverse, and 101 others

nicholaszzzzz: hacked 🐶🐾

saharsguitar: nellie do you have something to say to the people? 🤨🎤

cfspring: she said “bork” she told me herself

saharsguitar: okay thank you for that follow up

nottorispring: this is so real of you nick

the.xu.tao: this is the only time i’ll like your post nick

michaelholden123: do you guys ever think about what dog breed you’d be? i think i would be goldendoodle or sheepdog

nicholaszzzzz: yes i have actually and we all know i’m the human embodiment of a golden retriever

cfspring: its true, i can vouch for that

liked by cfspring, the.xu.tao, darcytheegg, and 150 others

nicholaszzzzz: another year with my favourite boy. happy birthday my beloved, i love you darling 🤍✨

[tagged cfspring in a post]

itsellesuniverse: i’m literally obsessed with you two

nottorispring: happy birthday you aries legend ♈️

imogen.heaney: you cuties!! happy bday charlie!!

cfspring: i’ll cry nick- i’ll cry so loud

nicholaszzzzz: its my boyfriend privilege to announce your birthday to the world. i love you, my love 💙

tara.jones.xo: absolute cuties– happy birthday charlie!! 🎉

liked by tara.jones.xo, saharsguitar, itsellesuniverse, and 45 others

nicholaszzzzz: tell me you like the mcu without telling me you like the mcu… i’ll go first

nicholaszzzzz: also charlie got me the ‘i love you 3000’ sign and before you all ask, yes i cried

cfspring: you cried a lot, actually 🥹

the.xu.tao: we need to work on expanding your movie taste nicholas because this is a crime

nicholaszzzzz: then you’re gonna be real upset when you see my iron man shrine

tara.jones.xo: the colour coordination of the photo collage, we love to see it

itsellesuniverse: from one artist to another, yes

liked by reading_with_isaac, darcytheegg, itsellesuniverse, and 65 others

nicholaszzzzz: rugby szn ft. a charlie spring cameo

reading_with_isaac: does anyone here actually understand the game of rugby

the.xu.tao: nope absolutely not

tara.jones.xo: why do you think i do ballet?

darcytheegg: at least i got to know the local gays

saharsguitar: i just wanna watch one game

cfspring: SKSKSKSK YES COME WATCH!!

cfspring: @/nottorispring wanna come too? 👀

nottorispring: you would have to pay me so much money to watch a sports game, charles

liked by nottorispring, michaelholden123, saharsguitar, and 20 others

nicholaszzzzz: one thing about me, i LOVE minimalism 🪷

imogen.heaney: i think we as a society need to talk about how nice nick’s handwriting is bc- hello??!!

darcytheegg: okay pull through with the MUJI brand

cfspring: get ✍️ nick ✍️ more ✍️ muji ✍️ stuff ✍️

nicholaszzzzz: stop do not spend that much on me charlie

cfspring: don’t tell me what to do nick

the.xu.tao: stop flirting in the comments pls-

liked by reading_with_isaac, cfspring, imogen.heaney, and 200 others

nicholaszzzzz: staring at the sunset, babe 🌅

the.xu.tao: okay has anyone checked up on charlie?

nottorispring: he’s been screaming and crying for 10 minutes now lol

itsellesuniverse: the taylor swift lyric, okay i like it

saharsguitar: @/cfspring bestie, are you okay?? comment something to let us know

cfspring: OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD 😭😭😭

cfspring: unfollow me now, this is gonna be the only thing i talk about for the next week

darcytheegg: rip charlie spring, nothing happened to him expect nicholas luke nelson

imogen.heaney: photo credits to me, you’re welcome

liked by cfspring, the.xu.tao, tara.jones.xo, and 159 others

nicholaszzzzz: the world is so obsessed with defining sexuality for everyone and attaching labels to it. any time any person openly leaves the sexual norm, their sexuality becomes, more often than not, the absolute defining characteristic of that person.

it becomes the first thing people think about and often the first thing they mention. every other part of that person all but disappears — dan pearce 💗💜💙

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