#the expressions ive seen on her face today

[tonyspank]

I WANNA BE YOURS

Summary: Months after admiring the girl from afar, you finally begin your relationship together.

Warnings: smut and idk…

Words: 9.3k

A/N: Longest imagine ive ever wrote. So please bare with me i did not edit or revise this

Vada Cavell x Footballer!GP! Reader

You walk through the crowded hallways, a black bookbag hanging off your shoulder. You look around and see the people you know, and those you don't. You make your way to your classroom, immediately recognized by your best friend. "There she is!" He shouts from his seat, raising his hands in the air.

"Ethan... it's like eight in the morning. Why are you shouting?" He laughs and pats the seat next to him. You take your seat and start to unpack your bag. "Coach cancelled practice for today. Something about giving us time to mentally prepare for the game."

You raise an eyebrow in surprise. "That's so unlike him." Ethan nodded in agreement. "Yeah, but I'm not complaining. It's nice to have a day off."

"Wanna hang out after school?" You ask, placing your notebook on your desk. The brown-haired boy leans into his chair, a smug smile on his face. "No, can do."

A smile makes its way on your face. "What's that look for?"

He shrugs, "Oh, nothing. It's just that Mia Reed and I are going to this Taylor Lift concert together."

You snort at the mess up of the Singer's name. "You mean Swift?" He rolls his eyes. "Yes, that's what I said, Taylor Swift." You shake your head, amused. "Just don't make that mistake in front of Mia."

Ethan has had a crush on Mia since middle school. But he's always been too scared to talk to her, so he'd always comment and support her dance videos on Instagram. He would often try to find ways to run into her, but he could never find the courage to talk to her.

"Wait," You furrow your eyebrows, turning to Ethan completely. "How did you even finesse a date with Mia Reed?" Ethan smiles and shrugs. "What do they say again? Drunk words are sober thoughts?"

You shake your head and laugh. "I was drunk out of my mind during Max's spring break party, and then I saw Mia... and I just went for it." You had seen Mia around school but had never actually talked to her.

You were surprised that she even agreed to go out with him. Ethan could be surprisingly daring when he wanted to be. "You're a brave guy," he holds up a finger. "A brave drunk guy!"

"Also you'd never believe who else I seen at Max's party." "Who?" you asked, curious. He grinned, "Fucking baby Adam Sandler, Vada!"

You stared in disbelief. "You're such a liar." He shakes his head, sitting up in his seat. "Bro! I swear to god! She was there! In her oversized clothes and everything."

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical. He laughs at your facial expression, "Maybe if you had gone then you could've seen yourself." He says in a sing-song tone.

You shake your head and turn away, still unconvinced. He laughs again, "Well, believe me, or not, I'm telling the truth." He shrugs.

Your teacher then walks into the classroom. You glance back at him, trying to figure out if he's telling the truth. He winks at you and turns away, leaving you unsure. As your teacher brings the lesson your mind wanders off.

Vada Cavell, whose last name you only found out due to her Instagram page. Kind of like Ethan, you've been liking Vada for a while but never built up the courage to talk to her or ask her out.

It's been months of admiring her from afar. She was beautiful in person and you found yourself totally mesmerized by her. You liked the way she dressed, unbothered by how anyone else thought of it, you liked the way her smile lit up the room.

You just had to talk to her, but you hesitated. You felt like you could never measure up to her. You wondered if she could ever like you, too.

You only seen Vada talk to her friends from the beginning of the year. It was Nick, Mia, and Quinton. You felt like an outsider, not part of their group.

You were too shy to approach her, and you were afraid of getting rejected. You also felt like you were the total opposite of Vada's type, so you decided to stay on the sidelines and admire her from a distance. You wanted to get to know her but you weren't sure how to start a conversation.

The rest of the day went by fast. Before you knew it you were back home, greeted by your cat and your mom. "Hey, honey. You're home early."

Your mom speaks up from the kitchen, while your cat rubs itself against your leg. Taking off your jacket and bookbag, you smile and reply. "Yeah, coach cancelled practice." You give your cat a few scratches before heading off to the kitchen to join your mom.

"Really? That's surprising." You laugh, peeking into the pot your mom was stirring. "Yeah, that's what I said."

"What are you making?" you ask, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "Spaghetti." She smiles, adding stuff to the pot. You feel a wave of warmth wash over you as the familiar smell of your mom's cooking fills the kitchen.

You watch as she expertly moves around the kitchen, adding ingredients to the pot. "I have to work late tonight, so I figured I'll start dinner early." She stirs the contents and you can smell the delicious aromas wafting from the pot. She gives you a smile, and you are grateful that she is willing to take the time to make dinner for the both of you.

"Ma, you should be resting. I can cook dinner." She waves her hand at you dismissively. "I want to do this. After all, it's my job to take care of you."

She pours some more ingredients into the pot, and the smell of the food intensifies. "What if I got a job? So you don't have to work late shifts anymore?" You suggest, a frown on your face.

She pauses for a moment, before shaking her head. "No, you need to focus on your studies and football. You worked hard for your starting spot, honey." She smiles sadly at you, before stirring the pot and humming a song.

She stops, "Now, go take a shower. It's almost finished." You nod and walk away, feeling a bit defeated. You know she only wants the best for you, but it's still hard to hear. You take a deep breath and head for the bathroom.

You take a long shower, letting the hot water wash away the disappointment. You remind yourself that you are doing your best and that will have to be enough.

Taking a deep breath, you step out of the shower and head back into the kitchen. After eating dinner with your mom, you begin scrolling through Instagram and TikTok. You soon find yourself laughing at memes and videos, allowing yourself to forget the stresses of the day for a few moments.

Hours pass and you soon realize it's time for bed. You turn off your phone and crawl into bed, just as you're about to drift off to sleep, your phone dings. It was a message from Ethan.

ethan - best fucking concert ever

ethan - im officially a swiftie

ethan - taylor's songs are anthems for my life. everything she does is iconic. she's my queen.

you - i'm guessing it went well with mia?

ethan - well? it went amazing bro

ethan - she wanted to hang out tmr but she has plans w adam sandler

you - oh thats a shame

ethan - omg i jus got the best idea evr

you - which is

ethan - A DOUBLE DATE

you - ethan no.

You place down your phone, and it vibrates from the amount of messages you're receiving. You lay back down, but of course, your phone starts ringing. And it's Ethan, obviously.

You sigh, but you pick up the call anyway. "Listen to me! It's a great idea!" He shouts through the speakers of your phone, You groan and roll your eyes, but you can't help but be amused. You reply, "Okay, I'm listening."

Ethan begins to explain his idea in more detail, "Okay look! If I text Mia, right now saying what if me and you both go to the arcade with them, she'll be like sure! Then that means I get to hang out with Mia and you finally get to meet Vada."

Ethan smiled, knowing he had found the perfect plan. You chew the inside of your cheeks, debating if you should agree to Ethan's plan. You take a deep breath and finally give in, deciding that this could be the start of something good.

He quickly texts Mia, and after a few moments, she replies agreeing. "Looks like we got ourselves a double date." Ethan and Mia started to chat excitedly about the date, and you couldn't help but feel a bit of excitement as well. You hadn't been on a date in a while and it felt like a new adventure. But was this actually a date, or just a way to hang out with friends? You weren't sure.

You woke up to a shout of your name. You quickly scrambled out of bed and rushed to the living room. There was your mom standing in the doorway with a wide grin on her face and Ethan right beside her.

"Ethan's here." You send a tired smile to your mom, "How was work?" She shrugs, "It was alright. Come here and give Ethan a hug." You side-eye Ethan, who opens his arms wide, a goofy smile on his face.

"C'mon Y/N/N! Hug me!" You reluctantly walk over and give Ethan a hug. He squeezes you tightly and laughs. Your mom smiles, watching the two of you before turning to head upstairs. Ethan lets you go and gives you a pat on the back.

You take a few steps back and he grins at you. You smile back, "Why are you here so early?" Ethan shrugs, "Your mom said it was okay. Plus it's 3 o'clock in the afternoon." You nod, and Ethan takes a seat on the couch.

He looks around and then turns back to you, "So, what have you been up to today?" You shrug, "Not much. Sleeping."

"I can tell," he motions his hands above his head, basically telling you your hair was a mess. You laugh and run your hand through your hair, trying to tame it. You look back at Ethan and smile, "What about you? What have you been up to?" He grins, "Talking to Mia."

"Oh, really?" You raise your eyebrows. "And what did she have to say?" He shrugs. "She said that they'll be at the arcade at around six."

You nod, sitting down on the couch as well. "Wanna watch The Walking Dead?" He nods and smiles. "Sure, let's watch it!" You grab the remote and search for the show getting comfortable on the couch. The episode starts with a bang, and you both settle in to watch.

Two hours later, you two are still glued to the screen, eagerly awaiting the next plot twist. Once the episode ends, you turn to your friend and say, "Shit! What time is it?"

Ethan, eyes wide, checks his watch and gasps. "We have to go, now!" He exclaims. You both jump up but you pause, "Wait! I gotta shower, do my hair-"

"Less talking and more doing!" Ethan pushes you to the stairs, and you begin sprinting up them, almost running into your mom. She steps aside to let you pass, a mix of surprise and amusement on her face as she watches you go.

Quickly you take a shower and change into a clean set of clothes. Not before fixing your hair and spraying on cologne, you head downstairs, ready and excited. Ethan is waiting for you, a satisfied smirk on his face, and together you leave.

When you arrive at the arcade you see Mia and Vada. Mia's smiling and waving excitedly at you both while Vada kicks a nearby rock. You both walk over and Mia gives Ethan a big hug.

Vada stands off to the side, her arms crossed but a small smile on her face. You look around and see the arcade bustling with activity, and you know you're in for a night of fun. "Hey, guys!" Ethan says, smiling. You look at Vada, and your heart beats like crazy.

"Hey, Vada." She smiles. "Ready for a night of fun?" she asks, her eyes twinkling. You can only nod as you follow the couple into the arcade. Almost immediately, Ethan and Mia go off and do their own thing leaving you and Vada alone.

Vada points to a game ahead of you. "Let's see who can get the highest score," she says with a mischievous smile. You nod and the two of you start to play. After a few minutes of intense competition, Vada ends up with the highest score.

She laughs and celebrates her victory, and you can't help but smile widely. "If I knew you were such a sore winner I would've tried harder." Vada gives you a playful shove and giggles. "You'll have to try harder next time!" she says. The two of you soon move on to the next game.

In watching you press the start button, Vada admits, "I'm bad at basketball." You pick up a ball, looking at her smiling. "That's ok, I'm pretty bad at it too," you reply. She furrows her eyebrows, "I thought you played basketball?" You shoot the ball, and it doesn't even hit the rim.

"Actually-" She starts, and you let out a loud laugh. She joins in your laughter. "I play football," you say continuing the shoot the remaining balls in front of you.

"But like aren't you supposed to at least have good accuracy? A blind person could shoot better than you." You chuckle, "I'm more of a receiver, not a quarterback." You shoot the last ball which ends up bouncing out of the cage from hitting the rim.

You catch the ball easily, placing it down. She shakes her head and grins. "I stand by my statement. You're terrible." She presses the button, picking up the basketball in front of her. "Watch and learn."

The first one she shoots goes in, "Lucky shot." You mumble, and she smiles in response. The second one also goes in, and the third and fourth too. "You lied to me. You said you sucked." She laughs, and sets up the next shot. "I never said I was suck, I just said I was bad." She takes the shot and it swishes through the net. "What the fuck?"

She turns to you and grins. "You see? I told you I was bad, not suck." You can only stare in amazement as she lines up the next shot and scores again. She laughs and walks away, leaving you in awe. "You lied!" You yell out as you follow her. She laughs again. "I'll let you in on a secret."

She stops and turns around, her face serious. "In order to score all the shots, you have to aim for the back of the rim. And then once you do that, calculate how much power you're putting into your shot. That way you'll be able to get a better idea of the trajectory the ball will take. And you'll have a better chance of making the shot." You squint your eyes at the girl, tilting your head a bit.

She bites her lip in response. Adorable, she thinks. "How do you know all of that? Or like, how'd you even figure that out?" She shrugs, a smirk playing on her lips. "I came here before with Quinton." Your eyes widen in surprise. "Really? You two are...close?"

"We're friends." Is all she says. She looks away and takes a deep breath. "But yeah, he's a good friend." She smiles and looks back up at you, her eyes twinkling. "Wanna get something to drink?"

You nod and smile, and the two of you head to grab a drink. "Look, I'm gonna show you how to make the best slushie you'll ever fucking taste in your life." You grab a cup, joining Vada in front of the slushie machine.

Vada begins to explain the steps, and you find yourself getting more and more invested in the process. You join in, and together you prepare the perfect slushie. You take a sip and it's everything Vada promised. "Wow."

"Right!" Vada grins with satisfaction. Your eyes look around the arcade and you notice Ethan and Mia shooting water blasters at the target together. "You know, they're kind of cute together." Vada looks at the two, nodding in agreement. "It was bound to happen eventually. She's been crushing on the guy since sixth grade."

You furrow your eyebrows, your head snapping at the shorter girl next to you. "Really? Ethan too!" Vada laughs, a smile on her face. "That's crazy. It's been obvious to everyone but them." She turns back to the two, watching them laugh and shoot water blasters in sync. "They just need to tell each other how they feel."

"I mean...It's not that simple." You say, taking another sip of your slushie. Vada shrugs. "It's worth a try. I mean, what have they got to lose?" You shake your head. "I don't know. It's a risk they might not want to take."

You're beginning to wonder if you're talking about Ethan or yourself. Vada looks at you with a knowing look. "You never know. Sometimes taking a risk can be the best thing to do." You take a deep breath, considering her words. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I'm glad you agreed to come, I would've been third-wheeling the entire night." You laugh, "I'm glad I came too." You never know. Sometimes taking a risk can be the best thing to do. Vada's words basically repeat in your head, "I uh, I've actually been wanting to talk to you for a while." You admit.

She looks surprised but pleased. "Really? I had no idea!" You nod and smile, feeling relieved that you finally said it. "Yeah! I just didn't know how to approach you." She smiles, her dimples appearing on her cheeks. "Dude, it's not like I would've bit you if you tried to make a conversation with me."

You both laugh and the tension between you dissipates. She looks at you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "So, what do you want to talk about?" You shrug, using your straw to stir around your drink. "Favorite color?"

"Easy. All of them." She smiles and takes a sip of her drink. "I guess I can't argue with that. Favourite movie?" She pauses for a moment, thinking. "It's hard to pick just one, but I think it's The Staircase. I watched it a thousand times." You hum, "I've never watched it before."

"Wait, what?" She shakes her head in disbelief. "You have to watch it. It's a classic!" You shrug. "I'll watch it. What's it about?" She grins. "It's about this white guy who murders his second wife, and probably his first wife, and gets away with both."

You look at her, surprised. "That sounds intense. Is it a true story?" She laughs. "No, it's a movie. You'll love it. What's yours?"

You open your mouth to speak but she cuts you off. "Lemme guess. Tom Brady Documentary: True Stories." You start to laugh. "Yeah, that's it. It's a classic." She laughs. "See, I knew it!"

"But actually, it has to be How To Build a Better Boy." You say, watching her face to see her reaction. She looks shocked, "Wait that one sappy Disney movie?"

"It's not sappy." She laughs, "Yeah, right. I'm sure it's full of life lessons and cheesy dialogues." You smirk, "Maybe, but it's still worth watching."

She shakes her head, "I don't believe you. There's no way it can be that good." You shrug, "Trust me. I promise you won't regret it." Vada takes another sip of her drink, only to realize she's finished it. She looks up at you with a questioning gaze.

You smile and offer her some of your drink. "Trust me how I trusted you to make this drink." Vada hesitates, then takes the drink from you. "Okay. I'll watch it tonight, and then first thing in the morning I'll tell you if it was good or bad."

You nod and watch her take a sip. "You'd need my number for that." She smiles, takes out her phone and hands it to you. You add your number, then hand it back. "I'll be waiting for your call then." You wink and she laughs, taking another sip of the drink.

Ethan and Mia make their way toward you two, smiles on their faces. "You guys ready to go?" You both nod, and you all make your way out of the arcade. You all walk out, the cool night air bringing a sense of peace. You and the girl share a glance, and she smiles. You both head to your respective cars and drive off in different directions.

"How was it with Vada?" You reply, "It was great. She's a really cool girl." Ethan smiles and you ask him how it went with Mia. "We had our first kiss." Ethan's face lit up with excitement. "WHEN?"

He shyly looks away and replies, "Just a few minutes ago. You missed it being too oo la la with Vada." You roll your eyes smiling and give him a high five. Ethan grins and says, "It was amazing." He then pulls out of the parking lot, turning on his blinker and making a left towards your place.

Meanwhile, in Mia's car, she and Vada are talking about you. Mia teases Vada about her crush on you. Vada blushes and laughs, still a little embarrassed. "I mean she's cute and I can tell she really likes you."

Vada looked away, still blushing. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, laughing. Mia just smiled and shook her head. As soon as Vada got home she was questioned by her mom.

Vada quickly changed the subject, not wanting her mom to know what had happened. Vada's mother gave her a knowing look but didn't press the issue. Instead, she just said, "Well, I'm glad you had a good time." Vada smiled and nodded, grateful that her mom hadn't pushed the matter any further.

She fell against the couch, hesitating before turning on How To Build a Better Boy, your favourite movie. The movie started and Vada felt a sense of relief as her mom left the room. She curled up in her blanket and let herself get lost in the movie.

"Perfect boy but his name is Albert! And how'd he get a car...plus why'd he just throw his keys to a random guy?" Vada mumbles to herself, confused at the logic of the movie.

She giggled at the absurdity of it all, hoping the movie would eventually make sense. Despite the silliness, she couldn't help but be drawn in by the characters and their stories. Vada watched with anticipation as the movie unfolded, eager to find out what would happen next.

Until Amelia comes down, standing in front of the TV. Vada groans at her little sister, "Dude. I'm trying to watch something." Amelia turns to her with a small frown, "I wanna watch too." Vada reluctantly scoots over to make room for her, rolling her eyes in an attempt to hide her growing smile. They cuddle up on the couch, ready for whatever the movie had in store.

The sisters watched the movie, laughing and pointing out silly things until it was time for bed. Vada tucked Amelia in, giving her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before heading off to dreamland herself.

When you woke up in the morning the first thing you did was grab your phone, checking for any recent messages. You felt a wave of disappointment as you saw that no one had messaged you. You decided to go downstairs to make breakfast.

Your mom had already left for work, so it was just you and your cat, Goose. You started making a simple omelet. It was one of your go-to recipes. But gosh, was it delicious.

As you ate the omelet, you had a moment of peace, just you and your cat, and the warm and comforting taste of the omelet. Goose jumps onto the table, meowing in your face. "Goose down."

Goose meows in protest, but eventually jumps off the table. You take a deep breath, savouring the last bite of the omelet. You look down at Goose and smile, "I'll make sure to give you a treat later." Goose purrs in response, contentedly rubbing against your leg. You get up to clean the kitchen, and your phone goes off in the middle of the dishes.

xxx-xxx-xxxx - ok. i'd admit it's a very good movie

You smile, she had finally texted you.

you - see it's not sappy, but a work of art

vada - i wouldnt take it that far

you - lol, i still have to watch the stairless

Three dots appear on the screen, then disappear. You frown, continuing to wash the dishes. You pause and turn off the water, drying your hands. You pick up your phone again, Vada had texted back.

vada - we could watch it at my place

you - when?

vada - today if u want

you - ok sure

you - send me ur address

You ring the doorbell, shifting your weight from one leg to the other anxiously. "Mom! Do not open the-" The muffled voice stops once the door is swung open. You stand there, frozen, unable to move. The blonde woman smiles at you, "Hi! You must be Vada's friend. Mia is it?" You shake your head, hearing a groan come from inside the house. "Mom, this is Y/N."

You smile awkwardly, feeling embarrassed. Mom chuckled and stepped aside, motioning for you to come in. You nervously step inside, smiling at the woman who let you in.

Vada sends you a wave which you return, placing your hands in your pocket. You take a deep breath as you take in your surroundings. The home was warm and inviting, with decorations all around the place.

You follow Vada, who leads you to the living room. She offers you a seat and you sit down, feeling somewhat more at ease. "Sorry about that." You wave it off, "It's fine. She seems sweet."

"If sweet means extremely noisy and out of touch with this generation, then yes. She's very sweet." Vada sighs and sits down on the couch next to you. You can't help but laugh at her comment. She shakes her head and smiles. "She means well, I suppose." She says with a shrug.

You lean further back into the red couch, as Vada picks up the remote turning on The Stairless. Vada and you sit back and watch the movie, exchanging comments and laughs. Time passes quickly, and soon enough you both find yourselves lost in the story. "Off the bat, I knew he killed his first wife." You laugh, slightly turning your head to Vada. "I'm telling you, he did it!" Vada exclaimed.

You both chuckle and then continued watching the movie. As the movie plays, the closer you two get. Now leaning into each other, you can feel the warmth of Vada's body as your hands occasionally brush against each other.

Your conversations become more meaningful, and the laughs become genuine. The movie fades away, and all that's left is the two of you, living in the moment.

As the credits rolled, you both looked at each other in amazement. "That was one hell of a movie," you say. "I told you. That movie is the shit." You sit up a bit, your shoulder brushing against Vadas. "Okay, rate How to Build a Better Boy and then I'll rate this."

Vada takes a moment to think, then finally responds. "It was an 8/10 for me," she says. "I really enjoyed it. How about mine?" You pause to consider the movie before finally saying, "Hmm, I'd give it a 9/10. Definitely worth watching again."

Vada grins. "I knew you'd like it." She leans back against the couch and stretches her arms out. "I'm glad we got to watch it together." You give her a smile and nod in agreement.

You give her a smile and nod in agreement. You both take a few minutes to relax in the comfortable silence. Then, you break it.

"I'm really craving one of your slushies." Vada laughs. "Wanna get one?" You nod and she jumps up, pulling you up from the couch. "Let's get Albert!" Furrowing your eyebrows, you both head out the door. "Albert?"

Vada laughs again. "I was thinking about it and you literally are the fully human version of him, except you don't really look alike." You roll your eyes, but you can't help but laugh. "Albert's a douche, I'm not a douche."

Vada snorts as you unlock your chair door, getting inside together. "Albert is not a douche. He's a sweet young boy who cares about his girlfriend, and he's really good at football."

You can't help but smile, shaking your head. "Yeah, okay, maybe he's not a douche." Vada grins as you start the engine. "Exactly. So therefore you're Albert." You chuckle and put the car in gear. "Are you trying to say that I'm perfect and really good at football?"

She laughs."No, I'm saying you're not a douche. Now let's go! The slurpies are calling my name." You roll your eyes and drive away, the two of you laughing as you go.

Since that day you've been texting Vada non-stop. She doesn't seem to mind it either. You feel like you can talk to her about anything. And to add to that, you've also been talking during school. Vada had even come over to meet your cat, when your mom was at work. You two have become really close over the past few weeks. Every day you look forward to talking to her and spending time with her. You can't help but feel like you are falling for her.

"Are you coming to my game tonight?" Vada smiled at you and nodded. You felt your heart flutter. You knew for sure, you were starting to fall in love. "Yeah, of course. Even though I barely understand football." You laugh at her response, leaning into the lockers. She smiles back, her eyes twinkling. "I'll explain the rules to you," you say, your voice soft as it can be. Vada can feel her heart skip a beat, and you smile at her.

She looked away for a moment, then back into your eyes. "But if you don't carry four people on your shoulders and score like Albert, then I'm leaving mid-game." She jokes causing you to smile. You tried to think of a witty reply, but all you could do was laugh. "I'll try my best."

She smiled and put her hand on your shoulder. "That's all I ask." She patted your shoulder and walked away. You watched her leave, feeling content with your exchange. Ethan, who you didn't notice was behind you places a hand on your shoulder.

You jump in surprise. "Jesus!" He laughs. "You should relax, man. I didn't mean to scare you." He removed his hand and stepped back. You take a deep breath and let it out, relieved.

"What were you guys talking about?" You shrug, "Nothing important. She's coming to our game tonight." Ethan's eyes widen in shock, "Are you serious?" "Yeah, why?" You reply, slightly confused. He shakes his head, "Nothing, just... Mia asked herself and Vada said no."

"Hm..." You hum, unsure of what to take from the situation. "I don't know maybe she changed her mind last second." A goofy smile makes its way onto Ethan's face, "Or maybeeeeee... she likes you."

You look away, blushing. "No way," you say, shaking your head. "She's definitely not interested in me that way." Ethan gives you a knowing look. "You've been talking for weeks. I've seen the way she looks at you," he says. "You should ask her out dude." You hesitate, not sure if you should take his advice.

The bell rings, and you look at Ethan with a smirk. "Saved by the bell." Ethan rolls his eyes and laughs. "Just ask her," he says, and you cover your ears humming as you walk through the hallway.

"Check, check! Elvis, Elvis!" Ethan yells. You look at the cornerback in front of you, and give Ethan a thumbs up. You take a deep breath and get into your stance. You know that if you can get past the cornerback, and potentially win your team some yards. You focus on the cornerback and wait for the snap.

The snap comes and you explode off the line. You easily beat the cornerback and break into the open field. You know you have a chance to make a big play and you sprint as fast as you can. Ethan throws the ball to you, and you catch it successfully.

Only making it to the 45-yard line before you're tackled. The crowd erupts in cheers as you get up from the tackle, smiling. You know you've made a huge play and energized your team. As you jog back to the huddle, you can feel the momentum shifting in your favour.

The team regroups and prepares for the next play. Everyone is pumped up and ready to take it to the end zone. Ethan calls the next play and the team breaks the huddle, ready for action. Ethan snaps the ball, handing it off to the running back who earns just about 8 yards from the play. It's third down, and you need 10 more yards to get to first.

Ethan calls out the next play and the team runs it perfectly. The running back manages to break free and run for 20 yards, giving the team a first down. The team cheers in excitement as they get a fresh set of downs and move closer to the end zone. "Y/N," you perk up at the sound of your name, "Be ready." You nod as Ethan pats your helmet.

You take a deep breath as you prepare yourself for the next play. You watch as Ethan signals the play and the team begins running it. You run up to the line of scrimmage, ready to make your move.

You see a gap in the defence and make your move, sprinting forward. You catch the football with both hands and take off, running for the endzone. You feel the wind in your face as you cross the goal line and score the touchdown.

The crowd erupts in cheers as you spike the ball in celebration. You jog back to the sidelines, feeling a sense of accomplishment and pride. You know you just made a game-winning play.

Meanwhile, Vada is in the stands beside Mia yelling, "GOAALLLLLLLLL!" Mia and Vada jump up and down excitedly, hugging each other in joy. The crowd continues to cheer as you take off your helmet and raise your arm in triumph. You feel a deep sense of satisfaction knowing that your hard work has paid off.

You wave to your mom who waves back, a huge smile on her face. "That's what I'm talking about!" Your coach saying patting your back. You take off your helmet, rubbing the sweat off your forehead with your towel. "Just one more touchdown and we've made it to the playoffs, baby."

You take a moment to take in the sound of the cheering crowd and the feel of the cool night air. The team gathers together in a huddle, the defensive team heading onto the field.

As the players take their positions on the field, the energy in the stadium is palpable. The coaches call out the plays and the team readies for the snap. The opposite team's quarterback takes the ball and the game resumes.

Thankfully your defensive side was able to stop the other team, and you're back on the field. Your team huddles up and the coach gives the next play. You take your position and get ready for the snap. As the ball is snapped, you make your move and the play is underway.

You make a break for the end zone, dodging and weaving past the other team's defence. Catching the ball with ease, you can feel the cheers of the crowd getting louder as you get closer. You feel someone hop on your back, but you continue running.

You keep going until you cross the goal line and score the winning touchdown. The crowd erupts as you raise your arms in victory. You look back to see your opponent still on your back, frustrated and disappointed.

The referee quickly signals for a touchdown and you can see the joy on your teammates' faces. You look back at your opponent and offer a friendly handshake to congratulate them on a good game. The team celebrates your victory as the crowd continues to roar.

You run to the sidelines, ecstatic about the win. The coaches congratulate you on your performance and the team gathers for a group hug. You look into the stands and see Vada staring back at you, her mouth open in shock. You take off your helmet, dropping it on the ground before holding up a heart.

Vada smiles and laughs, she mimes a heart back to you, and you smile widely. Ethan brings you into a tight hug, patting your back, "HELL YEAH!" You finally feel the euphoria of a victory. You had worked so hard and it had all paid off.

You look back at the field one last time, taking in the feeling of success before you turn to join your team in their celebration. You have made it, and nothing can take this moment away from you.

Moments pass and the entire team makes its way into the locker room. Everyone is in high spirits, laughing, hugging and even dancing to the sound of the music playing in the background. You can't help but smile, happy about the win.

As the team disperses, the coach takes you aside. He looks you in the eye and says "I'm proud of you. Great job today." You feel a thank him before leaving the locker room, walking outside to the front of the school building.

Ethan, Mia, and Vada are already there waiting. Once Vada sees you she runs to you, basically jumping into your arms. You hug her tightly, feeling a warmth inside. "You did it!" She shouts, her eyes bright with excitement.

"You like actually carried that guy onto your back? I told you you're Albert!" You laugh and hug her again. "Thanks, Vada." You are interrupted by a throat being cleared, and it's your mom.

"Hey, Ma." Your mom smiles at you, holding out her arms and you step into them, contentment washing over you. She pulls away slightly, with a proud smile and says, "You should be proud of yourself, Y/N. You did something remarkable today."

You smile, feeling a warmth in my chest. "I'm glad you think so," She hugs you again and says, "I always have, sweetheart. Now go hang out with your friends." You smile wider, feeling a warmth in your chest and your eyes start to mist.

You hug her tightly and thank her, before turning to go. You pause for a moment and look back, feeling so thankful for the unconditional love you have been given.

"TIME TO PARTYYYYY!" Ethan shouts from beside Mia, who joins him. You shake your head at the two, turning to Vada who raises her head, joining in as well. You can't help but laugh at their enthusiasm and join in, feeling the energy of the night.

The four of you make your way towards Max's house. He's known for throwing the best parties at your school, but you've never gone to any of them. You've never really had a reason to, but now you kind of do.

You knock on the door and Max welcomes you all in. The house is filled with people, and loud music and the air is thick with laughter and energy. You can feel a sense of anticipation and excitement as you all take in the scene.

You look around and take it all in, feeling a bit overwhelmed but excited. You make your way through the crowd, looking for a place to sit down and relax. You finally find a spot and settle in, ready to enjoy the party. "No way you're sitting down at a party," Vada says from beside you. You swallow your drink before sending a small smile at her.

She grins and grabs your hand, leading you to the dining room. "We're gonna play beer pong. I hope you have better accuracy."

"Any challengers?" A dark-haired boy says from the other side of the table, his friend close by. "Yeah." You speak up, wrapping an arm around Vada's shoulders. "Me and her," Vada smiles, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready to go?" you ask, and she nods.

The boy nods, "Okay. But just know beer pong is my calling." You and Vada exchange a knowing look, and you set up the table. The game begins and you soon find yourself in a heated battle with the dark-haired boy.

It's drink after drink, throw after throw, and soon the game is over. The boy is declared the winner with a triumphant grin on his face. Vada and you exchange an impressed look and congratulate him on his victory.

"I can't believe he won that." You mutter, a bit tipsy. Vada shakes her head, "I can. You still suck at aiming balls into stuff." You laugh and throw your hands up in defeat. "You're right, I do. But maybe I'll get better one day." You continue following Vada around the party until she suggests something.

"Wanna get high?" You look around the party and then back at Vada, "Let's do it." She smiles and grabs your hand, leading you away from the party. You quickly found a secluded corner outside, and she produced a joint from her pocket. Taking a lighter from her other pocket, "You always have a lighter and a joint in your pocket?"

She laughed, "No but... I knew I'd be going to this party. I wanted to prepare myself." You hum with a nod, Vada's eyes leave the joint before meeting yours. "Have you done this before?" You shake your head, "No. I haven't.."

She smiles, takes the joint and takes a deep breath. "It's ok, I'll show you how."Vada inhaled, and slowly exhaled. She passed the joint back to you and said, "Just take a tiny puff. Don't hold it in, just let it out." You took the joint and followed her advice. You felt a tingle in your chest as the smoke lingered in the air. You coughed a bit, but it was a good feeling. You exhaled and smiled. "See? Not so bad."

You handed the joint back to Vada, feeling a bit more at ease. You sit down on the grass, and Vada joins you laughing. "Just wait till it hits."  You close your eyes and lean your head back, savouring the moment.

You feel the warm sun on your skin and the cool grass beneath you. You can feel the effects of the marijuana start to take hold, and a peaceful calm overtakes you. "I wonder what kind of high you'll be."

"There kinds?" You smile and nod, feeling content. "There's the body high, the mental high, and the spiritual high. Each one has its own unique experience." You take a deep breath and sigh, feeling the effects of the marijuana wash over you.

You close your eyes and relax, feeling the tension in your body slowly dissipate. You smile, feeling a sense of peace and clarity that you hadn't felt in a long time. You open your eyes and take another deep breath, feeling a deep sense of connection to the world around you.

"I wonder who wrote the script for How to Build a Better Boy," Vada's eyes widen. She can't believe that's what you're talking about mid-smoke. You laugh and shrug. "It's just something I thought of. I was just trying to relax." She smiles, understanding. "Well, it seems like it worked. You look much calmer now."

You take a deep breath and smile. "Yeah, I guess it did. I'm glad I was able to take my mind off things for a bit." Vada nods in agreement, then takes a deep drag from the joint. You both take a moment to enjoy the silence and the feeling of companionship.

You turn to the shorter girl, smiling. "I wanna kiss you. Badly, I've been wanting to kiss you, but now I just really really really-" You're cut off by a pair of lips onto yours. You close your eyes and kiss her back, savouring the moment. When you pull away, you can't help but smile.

You look into her eyes and feel a warmth inside you that you never thought was possible. "I've been wanting to kiss you too." You smile wider, bringing her back into an intense kiss.

Bringing the girl into your lap, gripping her waist tightly. You can feel her heart pounding against your own. You can feel her body relax into your embrace as you kiss her more passionately. You don't know if this is just Vada or the cannabis you've inhaled, but this is definitely one of the best kisses you've had.

She pulls away and smiles at you, her eyes twinkling. You can feel the electricity between you, like something that will never be broken. You know this moment will stay with you forever.

She leans in and whispers in your ear, "I love you." You can feel your heart swell at the words. You hold her close and whisper back, "I love you too." Everything around you fades away and all that is left is the two of you in this moment. You kiss her tenderly as your hearts beat in unison.

"You've gotta be quiet!" Vada whisper yells at you, trying her best to support your weight. You nod and press your lips together, trying your best to muffle the sound of your breathing.

You feel Vada's arms tremble as she carries you through the darkness. You can sense her fear. "Ma is probably..." You start snoring and begin laughing at your own joke.

Hopefully, your mother is sleeping because of the way you're acting right now, she'd definitely tell if you're not sober. Vada stops walking and scolds you.

She tells you to keep quiet and you quickly apologize. You try to remain quiet for the remainder of the journey, but you can't help but feel a bit of excitement as you approach your bedroom.

On the second to last step, there's a creaking noise. You both tense up at the sound, waiting there a few moments before resuming your movements.

"Are we gonna make out, V?" Vada blushes, a slight smile playing on her lips. "Shh, we're almost to your room." You make it to the room, closing the door behind you. Vada then pushes you onto the bed, plopping down beside you with a heavy sigh.

You begin giggling, turning to the girl beside you. She smiles, leaning in closer. You close your eyes, feeling her warm breath on your face. You both press your lips together, eagerly exploring each other.

Your heart races as you feel her hands on your back. You break away, looking into her eyes. You both share a knowing smile, "Are you sober enough to consent?" You nod, "Yes. Now hurry... sober thoughts and drunk thoughts."

Vada laughs at your mess-up, fuck it. She was high as hell as well. She was just handling it way better than you.

You both kissed again, feeling the warmth as your bodies pressed against each other. You felt the alcohol between you, but you both knew that you were sober enough to make a conscious decision. Your hearts were pounding as you embraced each other, both of you eager for more.

You pull away, climbing onto of Vada. Vada smiles up at you as you look deep into her eyes. You lean in and kiss them passionately, your hands exploring her body. You two stay like this for what feels like an eternity, until finally you pull away, and you begin undressing.

You throw your hoodie away, and try to rip apart your white tank top but fail. Vada notices your frustration and giggles, then helps you take off your tank top, revealing your toned abs. She smiles, before reaching up and kissing you again.

She then fumbles with the buttons of your pants, and pulls them down, before pushing you onto the bed. She climbs on top of you, and begins to passionately kiss your neck and chest. You can feel her hands trailing up and down your body as she continues to kiss you.

She moves her hands to your back and pulls you closer. You can feel her breath on your skin as she whispers into your ear. She then moves her lips to yours and you become lost in the moment.

You pull away slightly, "Vada take off your damn clothes." You say fiddling with her shirt. She complies taking off her bra as well. Your mouth moves to her chest, kissing, licking and suckling as your hands wander to her shorts. You slip them off her hips, leaving her in just her panties.

She moans in pleasure as you continue your ministrations.

You move your hands further down, gently stroking her inner thighs. You pause, taking in her beauty before slowly slipping off her panties.

She smiles at you, her desire and anticipation palpable in the air. "My heart is racing so much," she admits, smiling. "Mine too," you reply, leaning in to kiss her.

Her lips are soft and inviting, and you can feel the heat of her body radiating around you. You both lose yourself in the moment, the anticipation of what's to come envelops you both.

You flip her over, laying her on her back. You begin to explore her body with your hands. Her skin is soft and smooth beneath your fingertips. She moans softly, her eyes closed in pleasure. "Y/N..."

You move your hands up and down her body, exploring every inch of her. She gasps softly as you reach her most sensitive areas. You press your lips against her clit, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

She grabs hold of your hair, her moans getting louder as you keep going. You feel her body quiver beneath you as you continue to pleasure her, her breathing becoming rapid and her body shaking with pleasure.

You can feel her nearing her climax and you increase the intensity of your motions, pushing her over the edge. Her body convulses with pleasure as she reaches her orgasm. "Ohmygod."

You kiss her body as she recovers from her orgasm, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She looks up at you with a satisfied smile, her eyes still filled with pleasure. You return her smile, happy to have been able to bring her pleasure.

You feel yourself hard against your underwear, and you know that you're ready for your own pleasure. You pull her closer to you and whisper in her ear, letting her know that you're ready. She responds with a mischievous grin, her hand moving to pleasure you.

You moan as her hand slides up and down, the pleasure building inside you. She moves her lips to yours, her tongue exploring your mouth as her hand continues to work its magic.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and you grab her hand to slow her down. She smiles in understanding and pulls away, the pleasure ebbing away. You look into each other's eyes, and you both know that this is only the beginning. "I'm gonna grab a condom." You mumble, rushing off the bed and into your drawer.

She nods in agreement, and you can sense the anticipation in the air. You come back to the bed, and she eagerly takes the condom from you. Opening the gold wrapper, you take out the condom and unroll it onto yourself, before moving to lie on top of her.

She wraps her arms around you as you take a deep breath as you slowly slide inside her, and you both gasp in pleasure.

You both moan in pleasure as you start to move, and she wraps her legs around you. You start to build up momentum, faster and faster, as you move together. The friction of the condom creates a warm, smooth sensation that sends pleasure through both of you with each thrust.

With each movement, you feel your connection with her deepen and you can feel the sensations in both your bodies become more intense.

"Vada," you sigh out, resting your head in the nape of her shoulder. She looks up at you and smiles, her eyes twinkling in the dim light. You kiss her softly and she wraps her arms around you tightly.

You can feel the warmth radiating from her body and you feel the love you have for her in that moment. You want to stay like this forever and the thought of having to part from her is too much to bear. You tightly embrace her and whisper that you love her. You feel her body trembling as she returns the embrace.

"I'm about to cum." She moans into your ear as she cums. You feel her body quivering and it sends waves of pleasure throughout your body. You hold her tight as you release as well. You collapse onto the bed, panting heavily. You lay there in each other's arms for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking. You kiss each other tenderly and drift off to sleep.

"Was I your first time?" She replies with a soft whisper, "No, Mia was." Your head snaps to her and she laughs, sighing out shortly after.

You take a moment to process what she said. "Really?" She nods, "It happened... multiple times... the fifth week of school." You take a deep breath and look away for a moment, trying to contain your confusion.

"Was I yours?" You shake your head smiling, "No, Ethan was." She lets out a loud laugh at your joke, laying her head on your chest. You take a deep breath and hold her close.

You feel a wave of emotions wash over you, grateful for the moment of comfort. You are filled with a sense of peace, knowing that you have someone to talk to and share your feelings with.

"I need to shower." You say. Vada nods rolling over. "You can join me, but you gotta be quiet." You smile, "Oh, you're telling me to be quiet now?"

You chuckle and lead her into the bathroom. You both take your time showering, enjoying the warmth of the water and each other's company. After, you dry off and return to your bedroom, both content and peaceful.

You wake up to a shout of your name. Looking to your left you notice Vada is still sound asleep. "Fuck," you rush up out of bed putting on your clothes before nearly darting downstairs to the kitchen, following the smell of breakfast.

Your mother is standing over the stove. Three plates of eggs and bacon already waiting for you on the table. She gives you a stern look before turning back to the stove. "There are three..." You mutter to her confused.

She points to the plates. "One for you, one for your girlfriend, and one for me. Now wake her up and come and eat."

You sheepishly smile turning on your heels to go wake up Vada.

#reader insert #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #vada x reader #vada cavell #vada x you #vada x y/n #vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x you #vada cavell x y/n #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna x reader

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Studious IV (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

You continue reading Aemond's diary. As his true feelings for you become ever more clear, can you decipher your own feelings for him?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Aemond in his smut writer era (semi-public sex, p in v sex, tiddy suckin', riding, fingering, oral sex f receiving, bad sex)

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! But this baby is 11K words, so hopefully that makes up for it! Also, I tried for a long time to format this like the others, but tumblr wouldn't let me post it if I did, so the formatting is a little different here.

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here

My Masterlist

Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)

Studious IV

You were never setting foot in the library again.

Not after what you just read. Not when you were sure that the mere memory of it would have you bursting into flames the moment you crossed the threshold.

Good gods, only a few entries ago, Aemond could hardly bring himself to write the word ‘cunt,’ and now this? What in the Seven Hells were his advisors – Grand Maester Orwyle, Lord Jasper Wylde, and Prince Aegon – teaching him?

You weren’t sure whether the odd feeling in your stomach was due to how much you ate – an entire meat pie and five tea cakes, all washed down with a pot and a half of raspberry tea – or what you had just read.

Either way, it was not enough to stop you from glancing about your bedchamber to ensure no one was watching you and then rereading the entry from the beginning.

The 16th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I have just returned from the library. Grand Maester Orwyle suggested that I consult a book on anatomy. Since there was no business of court I was required to attend today, I asked one of the librarians to help me retrieve the title after I finished my training.

I also found a few books Aegon recommended, only after I dismissed the librarian – I did not want him to know that I took those. Or that I even knew what they were. Gossip abounds in the capital, and I do not wish to be the subject of more than I already am.

By the titles alone, I am surprised Mother allows them to remain in the Keep. I likely will not read most of them. Aegon has already traumatised me quite thoroughly. I see no reason to allow him to ruin reading for me, as well. Although one title, ‘A Caution for Young Girls,’ seems innocent enough.

But the books are not why I am writing now, when my usual routine is to write immediately before I retire to bed. I just… I need to commit this to paper before it leaves me entirely.

On my way out of the library, I saw her. My wife – if I die tomorrow or in a hundred years, I shall never tire of calling her that.

She has quickly found the more private areas of the library, it seems. I would never have seen her if I had not been considering going there to read myself.

It must mean something that she did not choose just any of the countless hidden places within the maze of the library, but my favourite – a secluded alcove along the western wall. An indicator of our compatibility, perhaps. Or even a sign from the gods?

Had the books I’d been carrying not been so… unsuitable, I would have asked to join her.

No, I wouldn’t have. That would require far more courage than I can summon when I see her.

I just stared at her, watching her face as she read. From where I stood, I could not see what she was reading. But I could see her, and that was enough.

She is so expressive! I saw her both smile and frown in quick succession, and once, her entire face scrunched in displeasure as if she had just taken a bite of lemon! Gods, how can even such an unpleasant expression be so beautiful?

Perhaps I should not have watched her at all, for the longer I stood there, the further my mind drifted. And then, I heard Aegon’s voice, as clearly as if he were standing beside me.

‘Don’t limit yourself to the bedchamber brother, or even the bed! A wall or a table serves just as well. And there is a certain thrill to knowing you could be discovered…’

Damn him. Why did I ever ask for his assistance? I would have been better off enlisting the help of an actual whore! At least then, the vulgarity would not come from the future King. Damn him to the deepest of the Seven Hells.

But that stupid advice echoed in my mind over and over. And against my will and better judgement, an image began to form. A dream – a waking dream.

Though my feet remained planted on the floor, I imagined setting aside my books and joining her in that alcove. She would look up and smile upon hearing my approach, perhaps even giggle at my attempt at stealth.

I would sit beside her and ask what she was reading. I might even ask her to read to me. But I would not let her read for long.

I would kiss her while she read. Not on her lips but all over her perfect face. Her cheeks, her forehead, on the tip of her nose. All just to distract her, to make her laugh. Only when she made so much noise that I feared discovery would I kiss her lips to quiet her and finally claim my prize.

The kiss would not be like in the Sept, or in her chambers that night. Instead, she would kiss me back and open herself to me. I would kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Until we were both out of breath but still wanting more.

Seeing her like that, with her lips swollen and cheeks flushed… I would not be able to wait until we returned to our chambers. I would lift her onto that very table, books be damned.

Like our wedding night, we would not undress. We would be in too much of a hurry.

But even hurried, I would be gentle. I would take the time to prepare her, as Lord Wylde said I must do every time. Doing so makes the experience more pleasurable for the woman, he says. And Orwyle added that her enjoyment makes it more likely that the coupling will be fruitful.

Gods, I hardly care about that anymore. Of course, I want an heir, or several. But I want her more. I want her to feel as much pleasure as I do. To ‘peak,’ as Wylde and Orwyle put it. Aegon uses other words, but I find them too vulgar.

And in the library, making an heir would be the last thing on my mind. Even finding my own pleasure would be secondary. I would use my fingers to prepare her – perhaps get her to peak once before I even enter her?

Aegon says women can find release much more than men can. According to him, he once made a woman peak ten times in one night. I would be more amenable to believing him if he didn’t also claim he did so five times. But maybe he is right about ‘practising’ increasing stamina. Though he has had years of practice, and I have had only two days…

But in the dream world where I have the courage to approach her at all, and the gall to bed her in the library of all places (can you call it ‘bedding’ if it is not done in an actual bed?), I also have that stamina. And the skill to indeed make her peak with just my fingers.

I do not know what sounds she would make, as she was entirely silent on our wedding night, but I would want her to make them. I would want her to make such noise that I would have no choice but to kiss her to quiet her and keep her from drawing the attention of the rest of the library.

Even when I was buried within her, I would kiss her. With one arm wrapped around her hips to hold her steady as I fucked her so hard the table would shake, and the other hand tangled in her hair so I could kiss her just as hard.

I want to kiss her so badly. When I finally go to her again, that is what I will do first.

Once we had both finished – for I would ensure she peaked again with me inside her – I would kiss her more, softly, until our breathing steadied. Then, we would simply take our seats again, and this time, I would read to her.

By all the Seven, what has become of me? To not only have such thoughts but to revel in them as I do?

You didn’t bother reading the rest of the entry again before clutching the diary to your chest and staring at the bed canopy above you as a thousand questions burned through your mind and set your heart racing.

Had he been thinking about that the day he came to you in the library?

Was it what he intended to do, had you not reacted so poorly to his words?

Were you really wishing that he had?

You turned on your side, cradling his diary as you once did a small stuffed pony, and noticed for the first time that night had fallen – you had spent nearly the entire day reading. For a moment, you considered running to Aemond’s chambers. But when you looked back at the journal, there were still more than a dozen ribbons shut in its pages.

And if you went to him just after reading what you did…

Whatever was becoming of Aemond, no doubt thanks to the men he had asked for help in better bedding you, by reading his diary and the most private thoughts and fantasies contained within, it was becoming of you too. For when your eyes drifted closed, Aemond’s dream of the library became your dream as well.

-

The next several days of entries were almost identical.

Aemond woke at dawn after a night of dreams filled with you. They were not always of a carnal nature. Sometimes he dreamed simply of holding or kissing you. Once, he dreamed about flying with you atop his dragon. You didn’t know whether the prospect was thrilling or terrifying. Perhaps both.

Each day, he broke his fast, trained, then ate a small meal before joining court.

Before joining you.

When he wrote in the diary after dinner and several hours of studying and ‘practising’ (you still could not determine what that meant), he still remembered every little thing you did. You had never spoken at court – it was not your place to. But he had catalogued your every movement and reaction to the business of the realm. Every raise of your brows, every repressed smile, and every curious tilt of your head.

You thought you were quite proficient at maintaining a regal mask of indifference. Your mother had you practice it on the journey to King’s Landing while she commanded your brothers to shout at you the most outrageous things they could think of (much of which she promptly scolded them for when they were done).

But Aemond saw through the mask. Not only that, but he correctly interpreted every movement you made.

He knew that the twitch of your lip when Lord Bolton made a petition was a sign of your marked distaste for the man. He knew the scrunch of your brow upon the reading of a missive from a Pentosi diplomat was you noticing a contradiction from the previous message and realising the diplomat was lying. And he knew that you stiffened every time he looked at you because you were nervous about what he would say or do.

Aemond knew you. Even then.

And yet you had so dreadfully misunderstood him.

The shame of it was enough to make you set down the diary and call for a bath – a private bath, without any of your maids present even in the adjourning rooms. You gave an excuse that you were exhausted and simply wished to remain alone.

But really?

As part of his study of the anatomy book Orwyle recommended, Aemond had drawn a diagram of what lay between a woman’s legs. And annotated it based on the advice of Lord Wylde and Prince Aegon.

You were curious to see – with the aid of a hand mirror – just how accurate the diagram and annotations were.

-

You awoke the following morning feeling more refreshed than you had since you came to the palace, from both the welcome break in your courtly duties and the exploration you had conducted in the privacy of your bath. Though you were fairly sure you did not reach a ‘peak,’ as Aemond described it, you felt close to the height of something several times. But each time, you panicked at the intensity of the racing feelings within you and withdrew your hand. Still, those few minutes of pleasure were incredibly relaxing.

And as it was Aemond’s notes that allowed you to discover the feeling that your own clumsy attempts had failed to bring, the prospect that you would – eventually – once more join him in his bed became thrilling beyond reason.

In truth, the only thing that stopped you from rushing across the castle the very moment you emerged from the bath was the unfortunate fact that you were still bleeding, though it was light.

More than that, while your body was more than ready to forgive Aemond, your heart and mind were still hesitant. He had hurt you. He made you cry. Reading his diary helped you understand that it had never been intentional. However, you still needed to understand everything before making a final decision on whether to forgive him and if you could, as Aemond hoped in his note, ‘learn to like’ or even to love him.

So, after breaking your fast, you again settled into the couch and turned to the next green ribbon.

The 23rd day in the 5th moon of the year

Were Aegon not my brother and the heir, I would throw him from the top of the Rookery.

‘A Caution for Young Girls’ is no such thing. It is little more than a manual in promiscuity and sin!

But… damn him. It is quite educational.

Unlike the book Grand Maester Orwyle suggested, it is not focused on the science of anatomy or conception. Rather, it is entirely concerned with the pleasure of women. After all, it is the supposedly true story of a woman’s quest for pleasure.

A Wylde woman, if it is to be believed. I may have to ask Lord Jasper about it. Is this why he’s had such success with his own wives?

But that, and indeed the sinful nature of the book itself, is unimportant. What is important is that it may actually be the key to my learning how to pleasure my wife.

It spoke at length of various methods of using one’s fingers. Crooking the fingers while within seems to be crucial, as is locating a ‘sweet spot’ where her walls feel slightly different. That spot, as well as the ‘pearl’ which lays at the top of her sex, is the epicentre of her pleasure.

And, like the others said, preparation is required. This is where the use of the fingers comes into it – as well as various other methods. For example, the book mentions kissing quite often, and not only on the lips. Or the cheeks. Or even anywhere on the face.

I admit the idea, though it is new to me, is quite appealing. The book mentioned several places where women most like to be kissed. The jaw, the throat, behind the ear, the nape of the neck, the collarbone…

There was a spot of ink, as though Aemond’s pen had been resting on the page without moving for a long moment.

…the breasts, and lower.

I do not understand why. Perhaps it is because of Aegon’s incessant comments about the breasts of every woman in the Keep, save our mother and his wife – would that he would also exclude my wife! – but I find myself thinking about her breasts with startling frequency. I did not get to see them on our wedding night after I foolishly forgot to undress her.

There is a story in the book which… well, I find myself wanting to replicate. One which would provide me ample access to her breasts. But more than that, it carries an intimacy which I crave most of all.

When Lady Coryanne was serving as a handmaid to a warlock in Qarth, she often found herself called to help him ‘relax’ after a long day. On such occasions, she would mount him while he sat at his desk and ‘ride’ him while he buried his face in her breasts.

I… it was easy to imagine my wife and me in a similar, though more loving, position. Likely not at my desk, as I don’t actually use it often. But perhaps, here. On my chair by the hearth, where I read my books and write in this diary before bed.

She would come back – for she would be living here, with me, not across the Holdfast and so far away – after a long day. Maybe she would have been in the gardens, or with Mother, Helaena and the children, or in the library for hours. I would have been stuck away from her all day in meetings, court, or training.

Even apart from her for only a day, I would miss her terribly. As I do every hour I do not see her. And she would miss me too.

When she came in, she would press herself against the door as she locked it, then turn to me with a mischievous grin. I would know what she wanted, but I would not play along. Instead, I’d mutter a greeting and turn back to my book, pretending that my blood was not racing at just the sight of her. For I want her blood to be as heated as mine.

You read the last paragraph again, the realisation finally set in that Aemond was about to narrate another of his fantasies. Fortunately, after his previous entry about the library, you decided to be more cautious and had already dismissed your servants until your afternoon meal. You had suspected that there may be more in the diary that was thoroughly unsuitable for prying eyes.

And, thanks to his diligent notetaking, you knew precisely what to do when the feelings such unsuitable words provoked began to burn through you.

You undoubtedly did not want an audience for that…

I would let her tease me, pretending none of it fazed me. When she brushed her fingers lightly across my shoulders, I would not flinch. When she leaned over me further than she would really need to see what I was reading, but wanting me to see that peek of her breasts nearly spilling out from her dress, I would barely look. And when she pressed a kiss, long and slow, to my neck – gods, would I like that too? – I might even pretend it was an inconvenience.

It would vex her that I did not give her the attention she desperately wanted. Not enough to truly anger her, but only enough to make her pout. So that when she took the book from my hands and dropped it to the floor, then sat atop me in the chair with her thighs straddling mine… I would simply have no choice but to grab her little lip as she stuck it out and push it back into place before kissing her.

I would kiss her in every place the book instructs, taking my time to worship every bit of her. I want to drive her as mad as she does me just by her mere existence.

But I know she would not simply let me tease her. She would return each kiss I gave her and more. Atop me, she would roll her hips slowly, purposefully, as if we were engaged in a dance. I would be able to feel her, hot and wet and as eager as me, but each time I rose to meet her, she would pull away.

Gods, am I really wishing for her to deny me? Perhaps practising as Aegon instructed has conditioned me to crave such delays to my satisfaction.

Either way, I think I would break before she did. She is strong-willed, and with as many brothers as she has, I believe she can be quite patient. So, I would beg. I would apologise for trying to tease her and plead for her forgiveness. And for her to…

She would, I hope, without hesitation. She would rise only long enough for her to remove her smallclothes and for me to do away with my trousers. Then, we would both sit again, together, with me gently guiding her down to mount me – Seven Hells, that makes it sound like I’m a horse.

I’ll be whatever she wants.

Again, and as always, I would give her a moment to adjust and make sure she is comfortable. Orwyle’s book said that with well-endowed partners – which, according to the measurements in the book, I am – women may always need that moment.

But I would be glad to give it to her. For it would allow me to unlace her bodice, and like the warlock from the book, I could bury my face in my beloved’s breasts.

I find it hard to imagine what it would be like, how they would feel. Soft, I think. Warm, as she is. And perhaps, if I pressed close enough, I could hear her heart beating.

When I was fully settled within her, would I hear it beat faster? Or would it slow with contentment, knowing she was safe and loved – oh so dearly loved – within my arms. Perhaps it would be like the stories, and I would hear it skip a beat.

Either way, I would be more than content to just sit there, breathe her in, and let her move at her own pace. We would not need to be fast, as we would in the library. In my own rooms – our rooms – there would be no need for hurry. We could just stay there, entwined, or we could move together.

I think I would prefer it slowly. Not even seeking our releases, really. Just… enjoying each other. Enjoying the connection of our bodies, our minds, and our souls. Knowing that we are one, that the gods have made us one, and that nothing can tear us apart.

Although… I do think her legs would get tired after a while. That is something I should perhaps be worried about. Especially if she did want to move, and fast. To seek release.

If she did, I would help her. The book did not detail how, as Lady Coryanne was a servant at the time, but… I could figure it out. I could move my hips up to meet hers, or even lift her on my own? I think doing so with my hands on her hips would give me the most leverage. Or perhaps her rear?

I am very drawn to the idea of holding her close as we reach our peaks. Of feeling her breath on my skin, being close enough to hear each little noise she makes, and the sensation of her gripping me as tight as she can as she comes. Even the thought of her nails digging into me brings a certain thrill. And if I don’t reach my peak with her – which, I think, is very unlikely – we can always continue. Or move somewhere more comfortable if her legs do get tired.

At this point, I think I am more than ready to practice. Of course, this wasn’t my intention when I started writing, but… yes, I am most definitely ready. And anything else I wanted to write about seems inconsequential now.

You dropped the diary onto your heaving chest, the image Aemond’s words had painted still burning in your mind. Seven Hells, you could practically feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as you moved together, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered words of praise between desperate kisses.

With a hazy smile, you snuggled further into the couch and beneath your blanket. As exhilarating as the descriptions of his desires were, what truly warmed your heart was the way he wrote about you, the two of you together.

The connection of your souls as one? It was exactly what you’d dreamed of when first told of your betrothal. Aemond was what you dreamed of.

Why did he have to stop writing? What in the name of the Seven was he practising that was more important than that?

Frustrated and with your pleasure now truly over, you closed the diary and turned on your side, resigned to simply stewing in your own thoughts for the few hours left until your maids returned.

-

After a light, solitary afternoon meal, you again dismissed your maids. By this point, they were more than a little suspicious about the titleless book you were reading. But, you insisted that you simply wanted to be alone, for your moon’s blood still plagued you. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You did still have some cramping and a slight headache.

In truth, it was because you knew what would happen in just a few entries – your second night together.

It surely wouldn’t be as thrilling as some of his other fantasies. You knew that firsthand. But after learning what Aemond felt for you, you were desperate to know his side of that night.

So desperate, in fact, that you barely skimmed the following two entries in your haste to reach it. Both primarily had to do with whatever smut he had read in A Caution for Young Girls. The first was a rather exhaustive list of all the ways he wanted to kiss you – and there were far more ways than you were previously aware of.

The second caused your most intense blushing yet, for it was near treasonous! After reading another story of Coryanne Wylde ‘riding’ a man, he fantasised about you riding him while he sat on the Iron Throne. It was an intriguing idea, but it seemed a little too hazardous to tempt you.

Finally, you reached what you had been waiting for.

The 26th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I had hoped not to make an entry today – for I had every intention of spending tonight in my wife’s chambers. But she is there, and tragically, I am here.

Tonight was almost worse than our wedding night.

When I saw her watching me in the training yard today, I thought… she was almost smiling – at me! She had no obligation to be there, and yet she was! She sought me out! She wanted to see me!

I had to bite back a cry of joy and relief. I immediately abandoned the rest of my training, nearly impaling the poor squire with my sword for how hard I threw it at him, so I could rush to the ramparts and greet her.

But when I got there, she was gone. I asked a few of the other lords and ladies that were there, but no one knew where she went. Even after speaking to her, however briefly, I still do not understand why she left.

You felt your cheeks flush with shame. Aemond hadn’t grimaced at you that day – quite the opposite. He had been so excited to see you there, and as usual, you had misinterpreted his reaction.

Or, based on how frequently these misunderstandings occurred, perhaps his expressions were merely indecipherable to normal people. Or, more likely, maybe just to you.

You set his diary down, careful to use one of your discarded ribbons to mark your place, and picked up your own. By this point, you had filled several pages with your reactions to Aemond’s writing – some of it sincere, some bordering on humour.

Yet you had no words to express how sorry you were that you had so thoroughly misjudged him. So you wrote nothing and just kept reading.

When I went to her chambers to check on her, I encountered one of her maids, who told me she had retired early with a headache and would not be joining the family for dinner.

Perhaps I should have gone into her chambers then and asked what was wrong. I knew – or at least suspected – that the headache was a lie. An excuse to allow her privacy. I often do the same, citing my scar. Which, as I told her, is not always a lie.

But if I had gone to her, as I wished. I would not have known what to say. Ask her why she ran from the training yard without speaking to me? Or why she wanted to avoid me and the family? Tell her I’m sorry for the disappointment of our wedding night? Ask Beg for a second chance?

I could not do it. I was tired from training and admittedly still somewhat discombobulated from realising she had been watching me. Though I did make it to her door, I merely touched the handle for a moment before retiring to my own chambers.

Now, after yet another disastrous visit… I should have gone to her earlier. I should have trusted my instincts (as Aegon often encourages me to do) instead of allowing my mind to think itself into an inescapable hole.

As I bathed and redressed, and even while attending court and dinner, I could not stop thinking about her. Agonising over what I may have done to make her flee from me?

I never even considered that she may actually have a headache until I was again at her door after dinner. The fear that I was disturbing her, perhaps making her pain worse, was nearly enough to make me turn and flee.

But then, her voice came, soft and light and so enticing. Of course, I somehow managed to answer idiotically when she asked who it was. Though she lessened the sting of embarrassment with a small joke. She is so achingly clever!

I asked her how she was, and her answer made it evident that the headache was a ruse. I am trying not to be too proud that my deduction was correct. She is not used to lying, nor is she good at it. And it is yet another thing I admire about her.

For hours, I planned what I would say to her. It was eloquent and thoughtful – practically poetry.   

The tail of the last ‘y’ extended nearly an inch, and you imagined Aemond just staring at the page, consumed by his thoughts for a moment.

But her room looked different tonight. She finally unpacked.

There is a large tapestry above her hearth depicting her home keep, the field below filled with vibrant pink flowers with bright yellow centres. The same flowers appear nearly everywhere. On framed examples of embroidery, on her curtains, pillows, and even the blanket strewn over the back of her couch.

I must find out what they are, for they are clearly very important to her.

You looked up from the diary, glancing about your room. Indeed, you had not realised how many dog roses decorated your possessions. It was no wonder he guessed they were your favourite.

‘I was quite impressed when you brought me my favourite flower,’ you wrote in your diary. ‘I thought you had somehow read my thoughts. I suppose I made it easy for you.’

She also has a large bookcase in her sitting room, which was specifically requested when her father sent word accepting the betrothal. Since the last time I was in her chambers, she has begun to fill the shelves with books and trinkets. I spotted a small silver bell, a wooden box carved with various birds, and a little glass flower. It was not the same flower that is so prevalent elsewhere in her chambers (this one was a pale purple rather than pink), but still quite pretty.

While pondering that flower, I returned to the couch to compare it to the pink flower on her blanket and saw what she had been reading – “The Last Dragonlords,” my first, and still favourite, history of my house. It is not a particularly rigorous academic work, but I prefer it for the sense of wonder it has for the story of my ancestors.

If, at that point, I remembered any of what I wanted to say to her, the sight of that book, and the knowledge that she was somehow reading my favourite… I lost all words. I fear I fell silent for an uncomfortably long time, for she spoke next.

She wanted to know the reason for my visit. I asked her directly about the ruse of her headache. She seemed nervous, so I told her I do the same and that I often experience lingering pain. I was tempted to remove my patch and show her, but… she was already quite nervous. I did not want to make her more so, or frighten her so thoroughly that she will never warm to me.

What lay beneath his eyepatch that would frighten you so? You had heard many rumours. That his lost eye was nothing more than a pit of darkness. That he had replaced it with a jewel. That an ever-burning fire, fueled by his hatred and rage, burned within.

Despite the stories, you felt a twinge of shame and hurt that, despite his love for you, he did not trust you with seeing him truly bare. He thought you could be frightened away.

Somehow, that shame far overshadowed any curiosity or fear about what lay beneath the brown leather of his eyepatch.

I could already tell it wasn’t going to go how I wanted – she would not meet my eye. So, I offered to leave. I would not impose myself on her when she did not want me to. That is not how I want to start this. Or, start it again.

But she did want me to go! At least, that is what I thought she meant. I am not so sure anymore. She said something about my right to be there as her husband. At the time, I thought it was her shy way of asking me to stay. Now… I think she may have just been repeating something her mother or a Septa taught her.

There was another small patch of angry scribbles.

I’m so stupid! And hardly better than Aegon. No – she may not have been particularly enthusiastic, but I am sure if she genuinely did not want me there, she would have said so. And I would have obeyed. After all, she was quick to ask me to stop some of the other things I tried to do.

She did not like the kissing.

When I first mentioned that I would like to lie with her – which I foolishly reasoned was out of my desire for an heir instead of my desire for her – she simply laid on the bed like on our wedding night. But that is not what I want. I do not want this to simply be a union of duty! At least, not anymore. And I so wanted to kiss her.

So, I beckoned her to me, and she obeyed. My hopes that this would be different were still relatively high. I got closer, touched her face, and asked if I could kiss her.

And she asked, ‘Why?’

I swear that one little word hurt more than any pain I’ve felt in the training yard. Almost more than… well, not quite more than that. But close.

I could not think of any reason other than that she is my wife, and I love her and want more than anything to kiss her. I only told her the former and the latter, for I think if I told her I loved her, she would have been more afraid than if she had seen me without my patch. And the gods must be good, for she said yes.

Then I kissed her. I held her close, and I kissed her.

It was the most wonderful thing! She was soft and warm. And when I laced my hand through her hair, she made the most delightful sound! I could have just kissed her forever.

But then it was over. She shouted and pushed me away. It was… it was just after I tried to use my tongue. I don’t think she liked it.

She asked me why I ‘needed’ to kiss her. She must have disliked it very much.

I had no other explanation than what I had already offered. At least, none that I could tell her without sending her running from me forever. So I stopped and told her I did not need it – the first lie I’ve ever told her.

When she moved back to the bed, I could not help myself. I could not let us be in a marriage where we lie together out of nothing more than duty, fully clothed and anxious to get it over with. It was foolish, and I probably scared her with the request, but I asked her to remove her nightgown. She had already taken off her robe – a massive thing in her house colours that practically drowns her.

You allowed a brief kernel of anger to spark within you, enough for you to pick up your pen and write him another little message in your diary.

‘That robe is dear to me, thank you very much. What is it that makes you hate it so?’

There is nothing more beautiful in the world than her. She puts even the Maiden to shame. I would have been happy to stare at her, to take in that beauty until I had my fill – if I would ever get my fill.

She got on the bed and positioned herself exactly how she was on our wedding night. Not quite how I pictured it, but considering her hesitancy, I did not want to push her.

It took all my control to stop myself from kissing her again when I undressed and joined her. But I did. I also resisted doing anything more than just looking at her breasts.

I sat between her legs and stared at her. While I was more than ready to begin, she was not. At all. Of course, I knew I would have to prepare her, but I hoped she would have had at least some desire for me already.

I started with gentle touches, drawing circles on her thighs. She shivered a bit when I began, but she didn’t ask me to stop. From where I was sitting, I could tell she enjoyed it, even if she didn’t understand it. She did ask me to explain, and my answer was probably lacking – how does one explain why he was so inadequate? – but she gave a small nod when I promised that tonight would be better.

Then I finally touched her where I really wanted to and was delighted to find her… well, not as wet as I’d hoped, but it was an improvement upon our wedding night! I ran my fingers over her entrance, hoping to coax more wetness from her before I truly began. And when I looked at her again to ensure I wasn’t hurting her, she smiled at me!

Encouraged, I kept my fingers at her entrance, not venturing inside yet, but continuing my preparations there while I began to seek her pearl. As the books said, I only had to draw a straight line upward from her entrance to find it.

And, oh, when I found it! Her eyes snapped shut, her back arched off the bed, and the most glorious whine escaped her! It was everything I had imagined and more. Gods, I think I could have peaked just from watching her as I circled her pearl again and again, faster and faster.

But then, she asked me to stop – begged me to.

I thought I must have done something wrong, but she shook her head when I asked if it hurt. And when I asked if it felt good, she would not answer. She merely requested that I get on with what I needed to do and leave, for she was tired. This wound cut even deeper than before with the kissing.

I wanted to prepare her more – I was going to use my mouth on her. To show her how dearly I wish to please her, how much I want to worship and love her, if only she’d let me.

In anticipation of that act, I have been consulting Coryanne Wylde’s various accounts and expert critiques of the act in order to form the perfect strategy.

To begin, I would undress her, as I planned to do on our wedding night, laying gentle, nearly chaste kisses on each new bit of skin I revealed. Once she was bare, I would kiss her. Deeply. To give her a taste of what is to come. Then, I would kiss my way down. Her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, and the plane of her stomach.

Once I made it past her navel, I would take her leg in my hand and begin a new trail of kisses upwards. The book says to start at the ankle, but I am too impatient for that – I will begin at the knee instead.

Just when she thought I was finally about to give her what she craved more than anything, I would once again change course to kiss her lips one final time. Then, I would descend.

I would start slowly, experimenting with different tactics to determine what drives her deliciously mad. Once I knew, I would feast. I would devour her like her pleasure was the air I needed to breathe. Like her cries of pleasure were beautiful music, and I would die if it ever stopped.

I would bring her to peak once with my mouth on her entrance. Again on her pearl. Then again and again in whichever way made her scream the loudest.

Only when she was so drunk with pleasure that she could no longer rise to meet my mouth or grasp at my hair would I relent. I would make my way back up to her mouth and soothe her with gentle kisses until she had regained herself and was begging for me to finally fuck her.

But I didn’t get to do any of that.

She asked me to stop, so I did. I pumped myself a little to ensure the disappointment hadn’t rendered me incapable of performing my duty and entered her.

The preparation did help. Entering her was easier, and she did not wince as much as the first time. And she felt even more heavenly somehow. The feeling was so intense that I had to take a moment to remind myself that she only wanted me to finish quickly so she would not have to endure me any longer.

So, I fucked her. I did not make love to her, as is my true desire. I just fucked her, like she was just any woman and not the love of my life.

And then, a miracle! I thrust into her, something about the angle allowing me in quite deep, and she reacted. She gasped, breathless, and her hips snapped up to meet mine. I froze in surprise and elation. I found her ‘sweet spot!’

But when I smiled at her, she turned away and refused to look at me again.

I just kept going. I did not try to hit that spot again, so as to not upset her further. I finished as quickly as I could and left the bed.

It was stupid of me, but I turned back to her after dressing. Everything had gone so horribly, but I still love her. I still need her. So I could not just leave her like that.

I asked if I could kiss her again. She let me. I was quick, as promised.

Then I came back here, once again alone and no closer to earning her love than I was before.

I must meet with my advisors again tomorrow. Perhaps they can help me understand why I keep fucking this up so badly when all I want is for her to let me love her the way I want to and for her to love me in return.

Your heart ached so severely that you thought there might be bruises when you looked down at your chest. But there was just skin – skin that Aemond would have happily kissed, had you let him.

As horrible and confusing as that night had been for you, it had been so tenfold for Aemond. He had wanted a grand, romantic evening, and you had greeted him with only coldness and suspicion.

He called you ‘the love of his life.’ You ran your finger over those words so many times that they became smudged, then went to write something in your diary but halted with your pen hovering over the paper.

What could you write to match what he’d said about you? Even if you could, would it really be true? How many times could you say, ‘I’m sorry?’

Well, at least one more time. ‘I’m so sorry, Aemond,’ you wrote, ‘I didn’t know, and I was still scared. Not of you, but of what I thought my life was to be. If you had only told me… I do not blame you, I swear. I just wish the both of us had been more honest with each other.’

You were far too exhausted to continue. It was not yet midafternoon, and you had already been from the near-heights of carnal pleasure to the depths of your despair that the unfortunate state of your marriage was, in actuality, mostly your fault.

So, after setting Aemond’s diary aside, you picked up your embroidery basket and began to work while your mind wandered.

It was only when your maids arrived to bring you dinner that you realised that, somehow, the dog roses you intended to make had become a sprawling wisteria vine.

-

You dreamed of the castle garden in late spring when all the flowers were in bloom. As you walked down the garden path, you saw every colour imaginable amongst the vibrant greens. But there was only one flower you really wanted to see – and the man you knew would be waiting for you beneath them.

Just as the first purple tendrils came into view, the dream faded, and you woke to see the first hints of dawn still beneath the horizon.

Drawing your blankets over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and stubbornly tried to fall back asleep and return to your dream – to no avail. You were well and truly awake. And it would be some time before your maids came to dress you for the day.

So, dragging the blanket from your bed with you, you trudged back into your solar and settled into the couch before picking up Aemond’s diary again.

The 27th day in the 5th moon of the year

I met with Lord Wylde, Grand Maester Orwyle, and Aegon this morning. They had advice, but it was not as… straightforward as I had hoped. There is no simple trick to get her to love me. Nothing I can study from a book and then implement with assured success.

I have to woo her. I have to be witty and pleasant and charming and… romantic.

I do not think this is going to work.

Especially not after my first attempt was so disastrous.

Lord Wylde asked that I tell him about her, so I did. When he learned she enjoys reading as much as I do, he suggested I try to find common ground there. So, I went to try and find her in the library.

She was exactly where she was the last time I saw her there, still reading “The Last Dragonlords.” I watched her for a moment, savouring the look of contentment on her face as she read, as well as a few quick reactions to the book. How I love it when her nose scrunches in displeasure!

‘That is quite the odd thing to fixate on,’ you wrote in your diary. It seemed a decent night’s sleep had helped recover some of your humour. ‘What is it, in particular, that you like about my scrunched nose?’

She did smile at me when I approached, but I think she thought I was a Maester, for her smile faltered when I greeted her. And she was so shy. Usually, when I struggle to find the right words, she breaks the silence. Today, she did not.

At least it gave me time to remember why I came to the library. She was still reading “The Last Dragonlords,” so I told her it was my favourite and asked if I could join her. I think she was somewhat embarrassed about reading a children’s book, but I assured her it was no matter and that I would nonetheless enjoy reading it with her, and she allowed me to sit with her.

My plan was to sit with her, discuss the histories, and perhaps, in time, hold her hand as a first step toward genuine affection. But the plan quickly went awry.

It all happened so fast that I don’t even remember exactly what I said. But somehow, I insinuated that she was not intelligent enough to understand the book. The book meant for children – young children.

She was very upset with me. Rightfully so! Still upset enough that she stormed out of the library after making several cutting remarks that proved that she is, in fact, quite intelligent.

After several minutes and a brief reprimand from one of the Maesters, I finally gathered myself enough to realise that she had left the book there. As well as several pages of notes.

Of course, the noble thing would have been to not look and ask a servant to return them to her. But in that moment, I was desperate, not noble. So, I looked.

Her notes were beautifully organised and remarkably thorough – the work of a true scholar! She even crafted a beautiful family tree all the way through Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. Had I not fumbled our initial interaction so entirely, we would have had a wonderful discussion.

You had feared him finding the notes, but you had never considered that he would be impressed rather than arrogantly amused. It made sense now that you knew his true nature. Perhaps, once whatever was between you was resolved, you could have that discussion.

In all honesty, there were a few questions you had that you hoped he would be able to answer. Not least of which being why in more than a thousand years, Targaryens had only come up with a dozen names that they repeated over and over again. You wrote as much in your diary.

It was useless for me to sulk in the library, agonising over what I should have said, so I gathered the book and her notes and left the library.

An apology was more than necessary, so I went to Aegon’s rooms. After all, there is perhaps no one with more experience apologising to women. Even if his apologies are self-serving.

When I arrived, I found Mother had already found Aegon first, and was well into another tirade about his behaviour. Normally, I would be happy to watch Mother yelling at him, but I did not feel I had time to. And Aegon was glad that I granted him a reprieve.

Admittedly, I had not wanted to admit to Mother that my wife and I were… not as close as I wanted. But, as she always is, she was eminently understanding, and far more helpful than Aegon was. His only suggestion was to bring her something nice – jewels, silks, or the like.

On the other hand, Mother gave me sage advice on what to say when I go to her. As my words have been my primary point of failure, I was very grateful for this. She did also say that a gift would not be amiss. An ‘offering of peace,’ she called it. But she advised something personal, not luxurious. If the gift is too valuable, she says, it will seem as if I am trying to buy her forgiveness rather than earn it.

I knew immediately what I should get her. I thanked Mother (and Aegon) and left at once for the gardens.

I found them – the flowers she loves so dearly. Dog roses, they are called. Unfortunately, they do not grow well in our climate, but the Maester’s managed to coax a few to bloom with their various potions and other horticultural creations.

They are almost as beautiful as her.

The Maester I spoke to said that it would be best if I had them cut just before I brought them to her, to preserve their beauty. So that is what I will do.

I will not practice tonight. At least… not that kind of practice. Instead, I will rehearse my apology. I cannot fail tomorrow.

You winced slightly, knowing that the next day would not go as Aemond planned and feeling as though it was your fault. But there was no changing that now. And you had already apologised – often and profusely.

So, you wrote only a simple note: ‘I don’t recall seeing dog roses on our tour of the gardens. Did you pluck them all?’

Looking back at his diary, you took a deep, steadying breath. Only two ribbons left.

The 28th day in the 5th moon of the year

I am the stupidest, most idiotic man in all the seven fucking kingdoms.

All I was trying to do was apologise to her for my unkind – though unintentionally so! – words in the library, but somehow it ended with her crying and me fleeing from her chambers yet again.

You cringed at the memory, almost not wanting to read on.

Aegon gladly offered his explanation, even after I told him I did not want it. He insists that I have so thoroughly repulsed her that she cannot help but burst into tears at the sight of me.

Mother thinks that she is just missing her family and her home, as she said. That she is overwhelmed by being alone in a strange place, and the familiar sight of the flowers – dog roses, as I have learned – brought those feelings to bursting.

Perhaps Mother is right. But her parents left a fortnight ago, and she has shown no other signs of homesickness. And she is not alone! She has the other ladies of the court to talk to, and Helaena and Mother adore her. And me.

If she came to me, I would do anything to cheer her. Not that she would seek comfort from me, no matter how dearly I wish she would. She certainly won’t after today.

After the disaster in the library yesterday and the scolding I received from Grand Maester Orwyle after my training this morning, I knew beyond a doubt that I needed to apologise. I… the shame I feel for having played any part in the state Orwyle described her in is unbearable.

So, I went to the gardens and had a Maester cut the flowers for me and arrange them in a simple bouquet.

She was on her couch when I arrived in her rooms – still in her nightgown and that robe. And again, she did not look at me. She had eyes only for the flowers. I thought then that they had been the right choice.

I apologised, but she did not react. She still just stared at the bouquet. So, I went ahead with the rest of my apology.

Then she touched my hand. It startled me, and I pulled away from her on instinct, dropping the bouquet in her lap. She looked at them like I had dropped a helpless kitten rather than flowers!

And she started crying. Softly, the tears welling in her eyes for a long moment before spilling over. I do not understand what I did to upset her. I said only what I had planned last night. It was so hard to resist brushing the tears away, but she seemed nearly volatile, and I did not want to make things worse.

‘I miss home,’ she said, finally.

It did sting that she does not consider King’s Landing and her life with me her home – it still does. But she is hundreds of miles away from the family of her birth, from the people who have undoubtedly treated her better than I have. I cannot blame her.

I apologised again for upsetting her and left.

At dinner, I had planned to ask Mother and Grandsire if we could find a way to send her home, at least for a little while. So she could be happy. Perhaps I could even go with her. I might have an easier time talking to her without the pressures of my family and the capital upon me.

You smiled at the thought of Aemond at your home keep. Of him in all his black leather among the fields of dog roses. Talking with your father in the library. Him training with your brothers – you were confident he could defeat any one of them alone, but knowing your brothers, they would absolutely gang up on him.

‘One day,’ you wrote, ‘I would love to show you my home.’

I was waiting for the opportunity to ask when she arrived! After this afternoon, I did not think she would come to dinner, but she did! I could have wept for my relief.

And when I offered my hand to her, she took it. Not only that, but she squeezed it – hard. I think believe it was her way of accepting my apology.

She did not speak during dinner, nor did anyone ask her too many questions. Aegon was his typically infuriating self, silently encouraging me to do something with her. What he expects me to do when in front of the entire family, I do not know.

After the meal, I offered to escort her back to her chambers, which she accepted. And once we were alone, she thanked me for the flowers!

It was going unusually well. That is, until I decided to open my mouth. I only meant to compliment her, as she did look quite beautiful, but… I just kept talking. And then I had suddenly insulted her gown from yesterday and her robe.

She closed herself off from me then, shoving away my arm. Why could I not just shut up? I know my words are the source of so many of our misunderstandings, yet I keep talking! At this point, I am strongly considering a vow of silence.

‘Please don’t take a vow of silence!’ you wrote, scrambling for your diary as if it mattered how quickly you got the words down. ‘Your voice is far too lovely for me to never hear it again.’

Tomorrow, I am going to try a suggestion from Lord Wylde. Show her that I am not a failure in everything I do. I pray it works.

You turned the page, expecting to find the entry for the next day, but there was none. There had been a page between the entries for the 28th and the 30th, but it had been sloppily torn out. All that remained was the beginnings of the date in the upper corner.

It was entirely against what you knew of Aemond. The man who had dutifully started his journal on the first day of the year and began each entry on a new page would not do something like this.

What had upset him so? Had you said something to him?

No, of course not. The only time you had seen him that day was in the training yard, and you hadn’t spoken to each other, not after… not after he stormed off. Had he actually been hurt in his fight with the Kingsguard? Or was he just embarrassed that you had witnessed him fall?

Gods, how you wished you had gone to him that night. But perhaps you could make up for it now.

‘After you were absent for dinner,’ you wrote to him in your diary, ‘I almost came to your rooms. I was worried for you. Though I confess, that was the only reason I found myself walking toward you… I missed you, at dinner. I missed you helping me into my chair. I missed your smile. I missed the way you’d hold the plates for me. Most of all, I missed your voice, and your presence next to me.’

You sniffled slightly, staring at a lamp on your wall to dry the tears that were forming before finishing the entry, ‘I’ve missed you these past days, as well. But I’m almost done. I’ll see you soon.’

The 30th day in the 5th moon of the year

I have made my gravest sin yet. And my most foolish.

We had the perfect morning together in the gardens. Silent, mostly, but perfect. She smiled at me! She allowed me to lead her through the gardens on my arm. It was… precisely what I had hoped for.

Until I once again acted like an absolute fucking fool.

Before I had to leave for court, I asked if I could come to her rooms that night. And for one perfect moment, I really believed she was going to say yes.

But then she mentioned her moon’s blood, and I just… panicked. I am not entirely an idiot (though I become less sure of that declaration with each passing moment), I know what that means.

It means that I’ve failed her. In even more ways than I knew.

I have made her miserable. I have made her cry. I have failed in every duty of a good husband, including the most basic of tasks – I have not given her a child.

I cannot go on like this – trapped in an endless cycle of misery where I can do nothing but hurt the both of us. I must do something to free us from this.

It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t love or even like me. I just want her to be happy. If that means that I never get to see her or love her again, I will make myself accept that.

First, she needs to know why I’ve acted this way. To know my true feelings so she can decide what she wants me to do. Gods, if she wanted me to go to Essos and never return, I would.

A blot of ink covered half the page, as though he had simply set his pen down while he thought.

I know what to do. I just pray she understands.

“I understand,” you said aloud, as though Aemond were before you. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was halfway across the castle, a distance that suddenly felt like the Narrow Sea itself. Throwing down your blanket, you shouted for your maids to dress you at once, your morning meal be damned. The moment finished tying off the last lace of your gown, you ran.

You had only been shown where Aemond’s chambers were once – on your first tour of the Holdfast. Then, you did not know whether to be disappointed or thankful that they were far from yours. Now, as your nervousness flooded through every part of your body, you hated the distance more than anything.

Each step was an effort, as with every one, your legs felt heavier and heavier, as if they were made of iron. Your blood felt as though it was rushing dangerously fast, carrying with it a marked chill. Despite feeling frozen within, sweat still somehow beaded at your brow. Yet you could not wipe it away, for your hands were all but stitched to the two diaries you carried.

Was this a terrible idea? Would Aemond laugh at you for all your silly little notes? Would he be angry with you for taking days to fulfil his request? You came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, tears prickling in your eyes as you considered so many horrible possibilities.

No, you thought, the word echoed by the impact of your foot on stone as you took a heavy, sure step forward.

The Aemond you thought you knew would do those things. But that Aemond wasn’t real – and never was. He had only ever lived in your terrified imagination.

The real Aemond was the one who had been so awestruck upon first seeing you that he could not say anything other than your name. Who had fallen for you so quickly and with such intensity that he forgot how to act like a proper person and instead stumbled over his words and actions like a drunk man through a crowded alley. Who had been so desperate for you to return his affections that he swallowed his pride to seek help. And who had finally given you his diary when he could think of no other way to show you how he really felt and who he truly was.

It was the thought of finally meeting that Aemond that made you put one foot in front of the other, faster and faster, until you were sprinting down the halls, only stopping when you came to the door you had seen only once before – his door.

You did not understand how you had found it again after only seeing it only once before. Nor did you remember knocking on the smooth, dark wood.

But then you heard footsteps approaching.

Hastily, you transferred the diaries to one hand and wiped the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of the other. You wanted to straighten your hair, for it had surely come loose from its braid after running so fast. But there was no time for that.

There was the dull, metallic sound of the door being unlatched, and then there he was.

Aemond stood before you, breathing heavily himself as though he, too, had been running. His silver hair was mussed, and there were smudges of purple beneath his widened eyes – his eyes.

He was not wearing his eyepatch.

Your mouth fell open at the sight. At least one of the rumours had been true. Beneath the raised, rough skin of his scar, in place of his lost eye, was a brilliant blue sapphire. It suited him perfectly and was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

He looked at you for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile before realising what had caught your attention so thoroughly.

“Oh gods,” he whispered, covering the sapphire with his hands and turning away. He took a few steps into the room before speaking again. “I did not mean for you to see this. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please…”

You said nothing. Silently, you moved into the room and shut the door. Aemond stared at you, his good eye watering as you approached him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “You should not have had to – ” He startled when you brought your free hand up to his wrist and started trying to tug his hand away from his face. “What are you…?”

When your only response was to continue tugging, he relented, allowing you to lower his hand. He swallowed thickly, fixing his good eye on the wall behind you instead of at you. Seeing his shyness, and now knowing it for what it was, almost made you smile.

But your own shyness took hold of you as you guided his hand down and wrapped it around the spines of the twin journals you held. When you looked back up at Aemond, he was staring at them and the green ribbon that now marked a page within your diary.

“I don’t understand,” he breathed, tightening his hold on the books.

With a slight smirk, you gazed up at him and dropped your hand from the diaries. “It’s your turn.”

#studious #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fanart #aemond fluff #aemond imagine #aemond one eye #aemond smut #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd fanfic #hotd #ewan mitchell #repost bc i fucked up the first time

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 2,382

Warnings | +18, bullying, for the moment only this

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | This work originated in Italian, so i apologize for any errors you will find, i am not a native english speaker, so go ahead and write in the comments where and what i can improve! 🥺❤

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

There was something in the air that day, something that weighed down her chest and left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

She looked outside her room and saw large gray clouds looming ominously, it was probably an approaching storm, and even so, she would still have to go to school, she could not escape her school obligations.

She had done so much to escape the harsh judgment of her family members, she knew that attending college was a huge expense for her parents, especially for being an out-of-towner with so much rent and bills to pay, so the only thing she could do to repay them was to get good grades and come out with a more than excellent GPA, without mentioning her problems.

So the girl prepared herself for yet another stressful and gloomy day, surrounded by prof's coaches and daddy's boys who wouldn't stop bragging about their possessions for a moment.

She adjusted her jacket and grabbed the bag containing all the necessary books, grabbed the house keys on the fly and locked the door behind her, not before nodding in the direction of the elderly neighbor who came out with her adorable little wagging dog every morning at that hour.The little Maltese barked in her direction and with a smile walked over to the couple, stroking the soft coat of the dog who, excited, hoisted himself up on two paws, accompanying her caresses with his head. Y/N burst out laughing at that warm expression of appreciation, could it be that only a dog was able to accept it without judgment?

"Do you go to school, Y/N?" asked the lady with a smile.

The girl nodded, "That's right, Mrs. Choi...I have a test today, I hope everything goes well."

"Oh, take it easy, my dear. I really feel that something new will happen for you today," the elderly woman's smile widened and Y/N was interjected.

She was no stranger to the strange outings of the woman, who very often seemed absent-minded and pensive, but a strange chill caught her. She tried to dilute the air with a giggle, "I hope it's also something good," she joked lightly, the woman rippled her lips.

"It depends on your point of view," she shrugged.

Y/N's smile faded away, not wanting to inquire further she decided it was getting quite late and waved a little awkwardly to her wacky neighbor, giving one last caress to the little dog, who continued to bark in her direction, trying to call her back.

"Come on, Y/N...you can get through this day too without too many hiccups," she said to herself, trying to mentally build up her courage. She arrived at the university with a lump in her throat, aware that once she entered the classroom she would see the haughty faces of her classmates again.

She was an outcast and the only classmate with whom she had come to form a decent bond of friendship had to change her address because that faculty was not suitable for her. But to say that she had simply grown tired of being bullied was perhaps easier.

She took a deep breath and entered the classroom, as she presaged, smiles filled with mockery accompanied her all the way to her seat, she took out the appropriate book for that hour of class and ignored everyone, no one however lent her a further glance, the arrival of the teacher had nipped in the bud any attempt at mockery.

Taking a test at the first hour was never easy for anyone, but the girl more than gladly accepted that chance to escape her foolish classmates.

She carried out the task in complete silence, interrupted only briefly by a few balls of paper and notes, some asking her to have her copied, others admonishing her not to sully their own air with her presence. Y/N swallowed, such doggedness seen from an outside eye might have seemed surreal, but to her it was normalcy.

They bothered her just for the sake of it, because she was the one without money, she was the unfashionable girl, she lived in a miserable apartment in a miserable neighborhood, she was everything they were not.

"Psst... Psst, little one!"

Y/N initially ignored that low whisper, but at yet another ball thrown at her head, she turned away in annoyance.

This was Kang Yoozu, one of the boys who worked hardest to make her school life a living hell; he seemed to take pleasure in constant torture and Y/N was often one of his favorite victims.

"What the hell do you want?!" she growled, impatient. He shrugged, "I just wanted to ask you if you were free later."

Y/N frowned, what was that jerk saying?

"Why would you care, Yoozu?" she asked, strangled.

A wicked smile spread across the classmate's face, "Your parents are street food vendors, right? How much can they possibly make per month?"

Y/N found herself gritting her teeth, ignoring the amused exclamations of the others; the professor seemed to have disappeared into thin air, which frustrated the girl even more.

"I don't know what you're getting at, but I suggest you shut your mouth," she said harshly and Yoozu's eyes narrowed.

"I'm just wondering how they were keep you, don't you think it's incumbent on them to lighten their load and earn money in other ways?"

The young woman blanched at the outrageous statement-what the fuck was she implying?! "And let's hear it-what would those ways be?" she rose from her chair under everyone's gaze.

Yoozu looked around with feigned interest, then elbowed his seatmate, chuckling.

"Well, I have a lot of money, a fuck or two wouldn't hurt, don't you think? You would earn honestly on your own strength," the whole class erupted in convulsive laughter, Y/N felt humiliated. She had endured much from them, had swallowed a myriad of bitter morsels, but no, that one would not let her get away with it.

In a very brief instant she found herself facing the smug boy who stared at her with satisfaction, and soon the scarlet shape of five perfectly outlined fingers was stamped on the candid face of that being, a being who for two years had made it unbearable for her to study for a better future. The noise was a dull pop and everyone fell silent.

Yoozu's eyes turned icy, and soon he jerked up from his chair, flipping it behind him.

"You dared too much, beggar" he made to approach threateningly, no one would intervene, she knew, but fortunately the professor's voice stopped whatever was about to happen.

"What the heck is going on in this class? Y/N! Yoozu! Go back to your seats immediately before I suspend your test."

The man's threatening voice made the boy take a step back, Y/N went back to her seat, but she felt the threatening gaze of her companion behind her the rest of the time, until the end of the hour sounded and everyone got up to leave their verifications on the professor's desk, who collected all the papers and added something to the register, which Y/N guessed was about her and Yoozu. A sick feeling invaded her stomach, she did not want her average to drop because of a bastard like Kang Yoozu, he had practically invited her to prostitute herself. With him.

Disgusted she took the art sketchbook from her bag, a small smile was born on her lips.

Classes with Professor Jeon always gave her a chance to get through the day in a slightly more uplifted mood.

He was a young boy ready to put himself on the front lines to help his students, older than her by five years, he had found a place in the university where he had studied because all the school staff thought he was deserving of getting a professorship there. And, Y/N admitted at least to herself, he was handsome as well as kind and helpful. She felt her heartbeat increase when her favorite professor made his entrance into the classroom, greeting all his pupils with a bright smile, exchanged a few words with the older professor who gave way to him, and during that conversation the girl clearly heard the excited murmurs of her classmates. They did not think much about it, giving vent to their shamelessly enamored sighs.

Y/N merely shrugged her shoulders as the young professor took a seat behind the desk and gave everyone a jovial look.

"Good morning, guys" he said quietly, a chorus of "good morning" and "hello" rose from the desks.

Y/N watched spellbound as the corner of his lips slightly lifted in a satisfied smile of the man, her professor's long hair that day was tied in a ponytail that the girl found damn adorable, which contrasted with the tattoos that decorated the entire arm left uncovered by the pulled-up shirt sleeve, the man crossed his arms and his biceps swelled in a hypnotic movement that caught the girl unprepared, she felt her body set on fire and with shame removed her gaze.

What she did not know was that Jungkook was also watching her. He never let her out of his sight, in truth.

From the first time he had caught her rushing into the classroom, wet as a tender chick, Jungkook could not help but feel a strange flutter every time he laid eyes on his pupil. Their eyes had met for the first time that day, a rush had gone through him from side to side, thunderstruck by that little figure who had bowed in apology over and over again.

And it was wrong, he should never have taken an interest in one of his students like that, but he was a man, a man with secret feelings and appetites, and everything about Y/N screamed timidity and fragility.

He wanted to protect her, wanted to take her away, wanted to make her his.

He knew about the way her classmates treated her, his colleagues sometimes talked about it during lunch breaks, this was terrible for him, it hurt him to even imagine the way the girl felt, he would have protected her if it was possible, but each time the bullying happened in his absence, and as a professor he could do nothing if Y/N herself did not ask for help. He could not punish the perpetrators without catching them in the act. The young man sighed, before lowering his eyes to the register, frowning at what he found written there.

"Park Y/N and Kang Yoozu were found standing during testing time, they looked like they were about to start a fight, I intervened in time to put them in their place."

Jungkook gritted his teeth as he read his student's name next to Y/N's.

The girl was too quiet a person to provoke a quarrel, his dark irises stopped on Yoozu, who was giggling along with his partner as his scribbled something in sketchbook.

Y/N, on the other hand, waited quietly and composedly for her class to begin, and that told Jungkook a lot about the dynamics of the strange event described by his colleague.

He rose from his chair clearing his throat, all eyes were soon on him.

He sensed the mischievous glances of the girls in his direction, he knew he was very much desired, after all he was the only young professor in the institution, but he did not let those attentions buy him, the only gaze he wanted on himself was that of the same girl who was anxiously crushing her fingers.

He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms again, and in Y/N's gaze he read something very much like... desire? He looked at her, biting his lips for a thousandth of a second, clenching the tender flesh between his teeth, but that minimal amount of time was enough for the girl to widen her eyes and lower them immediately afterward, her cheeks flushed. Jungkook felt himself tightening in his pants, thinking that he was so adorable that he wanted to fuck her right then, in front of everyone.

He would have gladly made her cry as his cock penetrated her deeply.

"Guys, today I'm not going to talk to you about history and artists," he began, his voice crystal clear and smooth, "But about a subject that, unfortunately, will never stop being talked about," he paused behind Yoozu's desk.

He observed the lines drawn by the boy on the once-clean page, Yoozu made to cover his scrawl, but Jungkook was quick to catch him, "Let me see a bit, Kang," he said, before taking a better look at that jumble of shapeless lines, which took on the appearance of a naked girl with a tear-streaked face, there was a uniform at the corner of the paper and a bag, which Jungkook immediately recognized, raised an eyebrow in the boy's direction and returned the object to him, not without first tearing up the page, "Drawing your companions without clothes is not what I asked you to do, Yoozu.

Employ my hour to draw something in good taste, instead of indulging in such disgusting antics," the man scolded him harshly. The student bowed his head, humiliated, apologetically, and his deskmate turned away, as if to put some distance between himself and his friend, which the teacher laughed at internally. It was precisely people like Yoozu who had no friends.

Jungkook finally turned around and walked in Y/N's direction, stopped just behind her and lowered himself until he reached her ear, "Today's lesson is about bullying," he murmured, the girl felt her legs trembling under his low and sweet tone, she meekly nodded, writing on a vacant page the theme, then Jungkook raised his voice slightly, "I would like you all to draw a representation of bullying, also writing a small dedication to the kids who experience it firsthand."

When the young teacher turned away from her, Y/N resumed breathing normally.

Everyone caught the stinging reference, the girl gazed admiringly at Jungkook's strong shoulders, perfectly aligned in a proud posture that Y/N had no trouble finding attractive, clutched the pencil grip and set to work, unaware of the forbidden desire she aroused moment by moment in her teacher.

#bts #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #bts yandere smut #jungkook x reader #bts fanfic #yandere

[pandoraslxna]

hi!! ur jake x tonowari fic got me thinking like ive been thinking abt ur writing for days.

imagine the both got back from an unsuccessful hunt together and the reader asked them if they needed any help after the hunt and they were like "yes 😈" and just hardcore smut

Stress relief

Jake Sully x female reader x Tonowari

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, mmf threesome, oral, p in v, pandoras mighty dilfs in action, rough sex, cum swallowing, poly relationship, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, kinda forced orgasm, spit roasting, squirting, praise kink, use of 'sir’, slight degradation kink too if you squint

Notes: I’m using that gif purely bc jake looks like he’s fucking someone and Tonowari talks them through it— 😩 (pls make sure to reblog, I feel like this is gonna get shadowbanned too)

You’ve been waiting for them inside your marui pod patiently. The hours have passed painful slow without them and it’s not until the eclipse had started, that two familiar Na‘vi return to your shared home. Immediately, you jump to your feet to greet them happily, but the expressions on their faces are everything but. That could’ve mean only one thing.

"What’s wrong? Didn’t catch anything today?", you ask them carefully, while the both set away their weapons, spear and bow. Tonowari purses his lips before he speaks with a sigh, "No, the Srakats were especially tough today."

"Don’t be disappointed", you smile at him gently, "I‘m sure you‘ll catch one next time."

Jake passes you to stow away some other things, but before he does, he leaves a small kiss on the corner of your mouth. "You should’ve seen us though, we put up one hell of a fight with those things." He’s says it so half heartedly, seemingly trying to cheer up the mood but still, your smile drops. They’ve been talking about nothing else than this hunt since yesterday, were gone for the whole day and are now probably very exhausted too, it’s no wonder they were frustrated. You can’t help but feel bad for them.

"Is there anything I can do to make you both feel better?" The question is innocent. You’ve been thinking about cooking them their favorite meal, you’re pretty sure you still have some meat stored, but with the way the two of them instantly look at each other… you could’ve only guessed that’s not what they have in mind.

Tonowari slowly closes the gap between you and him, his board arms circling your smaller frame and pulling close into a hug. You sigh against his warm skin, your big, oblivious eyes looking up at him through long lashes.

"I think there’s a thing or two you could do about that", he says slyly and your eyebrows rise. Behind you, you can hear Jake chuckle, "He’s been talking about nothing else all day. I’d say it’s partly your fault too, that he was so unfocused and we didn’t catch anything."

"M-My fault?", you blink at him over your shoulder and Jake hums in agreement. "You had him all hard and desperate, daydreaming about that cute little pussy aaall day." At his words, you swallow thickly and your gaze switches from Jake back to Tonowari.

"If I remember correctly, you were the one to plant such thoughts in my head in the first place", he chuckles, "Talking about all the things you were going to do to her once we‘re back. All that talking scared away the Srakats!"

You giggle at the way they’re teasing each other and suddenly, both pair of eyes land on you. "What’s so funny, sweetheart?", Jake tilts his head and you bite on your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. He looks at you for a moment, eyes roaming over you body as he licks hip lips and crosses his muscular arms over his chest.

"Undress", Jake orders you with a stern look on his face. You’re dumbfounded for a second, like you’re frozen in place. But then Jake raises his eyebrows, prompting, and immediately you get to work, undressing yourself. You’re clumsy as you do, hurriedly untying your loincloth, almost stumbling over your own feet in the process and when it comes to your top, you struggle with the clasp. "A little faster than that, bunny. We don’t have all day. Unless you want me to rip it off of you, hm?" Quickly, you shake your head. You’ve spent way too many hours weaving that top, just for Jake to destroy it because he was too impatient.

The two tall Na‘vi stare you down so intensely and with so much lust in their eyes that your hands begin to tremble. Still, you somehow manage to finally get your top off and it falls to the ground next to your feet. Now you stand there, awkward and completely bare before them, obediently waiting for your next order.

You could feel their eyes on you and the whole situation made you feel insanely excited. In their minds, they were already touching, kissing, licking and biting on every part of skin they could see. You squirm a little and clench you thighs together, eager for them to make it happen. Tonowari then reaches out and gently brushes a thumb over your cheek and you close your eyes and lean into it, sighing. "Get on your hands and knees for me, will you do that?"

Oh he didn’t had to tell you twice.

Heat floods your cheeks as you drop to your knees, almost embarrassingly fast and Tonowari chuckles at the sight. Like this, you were almost eye level with his crotch and the bulge forming right under his loincloth was speaking for itself, proving to you, that what they had told you was true. He wanted you. So bad.

Tonowari steps closer and like this, you had to crane your neck to look at his face. The metkayina strokes your hair gently before guiding your small hands to the piece of clothing covering his crotch. Getting the hint, you make quick work of untying his loincloth. Once his clothing falls to the ground and his cock springs free, you gulp audibly. The hand that had been caressing your head then moves, his thumb slides over your bottom lip ever so slowly before he slips his digit into your mouth. He traces the edges of your teeth. "Remember, good girls don’t use their teeth", he smiles down at you and you nod, eagerly.

Your hands then reach out to touch his cock. It twitches in your palms, too big for you to close your hands entirely around it. The realization alone made you feel uneasy and heat pools from your core and smears between your clenched thighs. Experimentally, you squeeze and stroke him before Tonowari guides your head closer, until he could feel your warm breath on the tip of his cock. First, you press a small kiss on top of it and Tonowari can’t help but huff out a breath, smiling at the precious sight before him.

He watches you with half lidded eyes, as you let saliva pool in your mouth and then stick your tongue out and let it drip down onto his tip. It makes his dick glisten, slippery with your saliva. You continue with dragging your tongue up the underside of his dick and he groans, relishing in the feeling of that wet, warm muscle against his hard length.

Those licks and kisses felt good, incredible even, but they were not nearly enough, not for how hard he was. But Tonowari was a patient man.

You drag the flat of your tongue up, the tip of it flicking just beneath the head of his cock. Tonowaris hips jerk at the sensation and he rolls his neck back with a groan. He tries to restrain himself– to restrain the urge to just flip you onto your stomach and fuck you senseless, make you scream his name for the whole village to hear.

Jake on the hand wasn’t exactly known for being very patient. The only times when he would willingly take it slow with you and show patient was, when he was teasing you.

Behind your back, you could hear him move. You can’t really see him like this, but you know he’s there, settling himself behind you. With a hand on your back he helps you in position –one hand on the floor and the other resting on Tonowari‘s strong thigh. With his own, he nudges your legs apart and makes room for him to kneel between them, so your bottom was hovering over his lap. His hands roam over your body, kneading your breasts and stroking over your back, where he then leaves wet kisses and love bites behind.

"Where do you want me, sweet girl?", he whispers and his breath against the wet spots, where he had kissed you on your spine, make goosebumps appear on your skin, "Inside that cute ass? Or that tight little pussy of yours, hm?"

You exhale a shaky breath, lips still close to the head of Tonowari’s cock as you answer him, "Inside my… my pussy, please." Your wish is answered by a dark chuckle coming from behind you and two large hands begin to spread your soft folds, revealing your entrance to him. "Can’t deny such a filthy request coming from such a pretty girl", he hums.

With his cock in hand, Jake carefully prods himself against your wet opening. "Focus on me", Tonowari tells you right before Jake pushes the head of his cock inside. You gasp as he stretches you, sinking into you ever so carefully and slow. It still stings, thanks to his inhuman size and girth. "It’s okay, just breathe", Tonowari coos above you, holding your head in his big palms, "You’re doing so well, so good for him. He’s almost in."

When Jake had finally, finally, thank eywa, bottomed out, with every merciless inch of his cock shoved deep inside you, you moan, already close to coming. The sound was heavenly to their ears and Jake can’t help it when he presses his hips even tighter against yours. You could feel the tip of his cock against your cervix and then a small sob escapes your lips. You clench around him as your first orgasm takes over you so unexpectedly fast. "Fucking hell, she’s coming already", Jake pants behind you, the grip he had on your hips increases, "That pussy of yours, jesus fuck! Sweetheart, you’re gonna be the death of me."

Jake allows your body a few seconds to adjust and brace yourself, before he pulls himself out all the way and then snaps his hips forward, pushing inside you in one go. The way his waist collides with your bottom emerges a loud and obscene smack and you whimper.

Tonowari in front of you was still patient. With his hands, he holds your head up, gives you enough leverage so you don’t fall face first against the floor. He enjoys watching you fall apart on Jakes cock with only a few of his thrusts. But his cock hangs heavy in the hair, leaking pre-cum and desperately waiting for you to continue where you had stopped.

"Go on, baby. Wouldn’t be very nice of you to leave that big boy hanging, hm?", Jake muses when he recognizes the look on the metkayina‘s face. "Y-Yes, sir." Obediently, you place your plump lips over the very tip of Tonowaris cock, tongue poking the salty slit, and his mouth falls open.

Yours does too, just a moment later when you hollow your cheeks and take him further into your mouth, just barely a few more inches. His hips were trembling with the effort to not hold your head still and just fuck your throat. Thankfully, a few especially hard thrusts of Jake had you take him even further inside, until you were gagging around him and could feel your second orgasm approach almost too fast for you to fully prepare yourself. You gag again as his thrusts push you further on Tonowari’s cock and you moan around him, loud and wanton and then you cum for the second time.

"That’s it, that’s the sound I wanna hear", Jake groans behind you

To the rhythm of Jake thrusts, you bob your head up and down, tongue glued to the hard length of Tonowari. He’s so far from being fully buried inside your mouth, the size difference was making it incredibly difficult, but he could feel you push yourself to your limit. You were making these wet noises that went straight to his dick and with your small hands, you stroke every inch your mouth couldn’t reach.

The sensation of hands all over you was overwhelming. Tonowari held your head up, one of his hands mindlessly stroking through your hair and holding them out of your face. Behind you was Jake, his tail affectionately wrapped around your thigh, while his hands were roaming all over your body. He switched between kneading your ass, to tugging on your sensitive nipples or simply holding your hips in a hard grip as he thrusts into you. You could feel your walls tighten once again, sucking him even further in, in an attempt to keep him there and when Jake brushes against your g-spot particularly hard, you fall apart again. This time, your legs almost give out under you and you’re glad for all the hands holding you steady.

Your eyes roll all the way back inside your head and you dare to close them for a brief moment and let yourself be taken over by the sensations, letting more drool collect in your mouth, to cover the cock that was sliding in and out alongside your tongue, and drip out the side of your mouth. "Open your eyes, little one", Tonowari groans above you and its followed by a throaty chuckle, "Can’t have you pass out on my cock."

You look up at him, tears picking at the corner of your eyes and you hum around his length, in place of a verbal response.

Your eyes widen even more, when you suddenly feel a pair over fingers glide between your folds and expertly find your clit.

"How many times did you come last night?", Jake asks so bluntly and unbothered, like he wasn’t currently fucking the very soul out of you. You can barely hear him over your own moans and the obscene sounds of you sucking Tonowari off. When Jake circles that little nub, you can slowly feel the familiar, addicting, tension building up in your core. Again.

"Hey, I asked you a question", he says sternly with a rough tap of his fingers to your clit, to which your knees buckle. You let your tongue glide along the underside of Tonowari’s cock as you slide him out of your mouth, the tip of it leaving your plump and spit slicked lips with a soft pop.

"Two or… or, oh fuck, three, I– I don't remember, sir", you manage to respond between heavy pants and moans and just to be mean, Jake circles your clit even faster. He was incapable of being as gentle as he wanted to be, as he needed to be, but the way you flourished beneath his rough touch, how you forced yourself to take more of both of their cocks into your tight little holes, undid him.

"Good. We‘ll make it four today, cupcake."

"Fuck Jake, I– I can’t take it, please that’s too much, can’t, I can’t!"

"You can, little one", Tonowari reassures you softly. With his thick cock in hand, he gently nudges the tip of it against your swollen lips, urging you to take him inside your mouth again and you despite your whining, you don’t hesitate to do so. "See? You’re always such a good girl for us. You can take it, I know you can."

"You really think we're that dense, don't you?” Jake tsks. The resentment in his tone doesn't match the amusement creeping into the edges of his features. "I think we know best what our precious girl is capable of, right? Think we know that sweet body of yours better than you do.” He tilts his head as if he's observing a rare specimen, his attention fixed on the way your soft, round cheeks jiggle with every thrust of his hips. He angles his own hips to brush against your g-spot expertly, while he rolls your slick covered clit in between his rough fingers. You moan around Tonowari’s cock so loud, they knew without doubt that even the last villager now knew what was going on in the olo’eyktan’s marui. And so, the knot inside your lower abdomen snaps. You come again, with a gush of slickness this time, that’s then slowly dripping down your thighs.

“Yeah, that does it every time", Jake groans as he feels you clench around him in a bruising grip. You steady yourself on Tonowari’s thigh, nails digging into his skin as a rush of pleasure surges through you the way waves crash on the shore —and that’s all it takes for him to cum, the vibrations of your moans around him sending him clean over the edge.

The olo’eyktan shudders, fist clenched tightly in your hair as he feels you swallow it all, throat folding around his cock. The motion itself makes him moan, praises as well as curses falling from his lips that you barely pick up over the sound of Jakes hips still snapping against yours. Slowly, he pulls away from your swollen, wet and reddened lips.

"I’m gonna cum, baby, gonna cum inside you, yeah? Gonna fill you up all the way and– fuck, you better keep it in there until I’ll fill you up again", Jake pants and his rhythm slowly begins to falter. You do your best to squeeze around him, pull him in and hold him right there until he can merely pull out of you for more than a few inches and his thrusts become short and deep and desperate.

Until all Jake feels is heat, that incredibly tight heat that squeezes and sucks him in, with the most obscene sounds he’s ever heard– and he’s done for. He’s flooding your core with warmth as he thrusts up into you, hard, for the final time. With a bruising grip on your hips, he holds you there and fills you up, until it leaks around his cock and flows down your thighs.

You nearly sob when he pulls away, leaving you feeling exposed and empty. An ache begins to settle over you as you come down from your high. Right when your legs finally give in on yourself, you feel a pair of big muscular arms lay themselves around you and suddenly, your face is pressed against a hard chest and legs swung around someone’s waist. "Good girl, did so well for us", Tonowari coos and you could feel the deep vibration of his voice inside his chest. You lazily throw your arms around his neck and burry your face in the space of his neck, before you close your eyes with a sigh. Behind you, Jake places soft kisses on your shoulder, right after you’ve felt the warmth of his body closing in against your back.

"I knew you could do it, baby. I‘m so proud of you", Jake hums against your skin and their soft praises slowly loll you to sleep, hugged tight in their arms. In the back of your mind, you were already excitingly thinking about the outcome of their next hunt. Was it mean to wish for another unsuccessful hunt again?

Well. May Eywa forgive you.

#avatar 2 #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #awow #atwow #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x reader #jake sully x tonowari x reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x you #jake sully x female reader #jake sully #tonowari x reader #tonowari #Jake x Tonowari x reader #avatar jake #avatar tonowari #na’vi reader #metkayina #metkayina reader #･ ｡ﾟ☆: *my works* :☆ﾟ.

[papercorgiworld]

The Death Eater Drabbles IV

“This is your second chance, here with me.”

Mattheo, Theo, Enzo, Draco and Blaise

Unspoken feelings can no longer be denied and choices must be made.

You don’t have to read part one, two or three, but it’ll make more sense if you do.

Warning: nope, just some angst and fluff

Personally, I like this one, because there’s so much emotion. This part can be seen as the end of the Death Eater Drabbles or as some kind of season finale, I haven’t decided yet. As always happy readings and feedback is very welcome.

Neither of you would act on it, but you could both feel it in your bones. You loved one another. There was no escaping it. It was in every look, in every silence in every touch. Each morning you would wonder if today was the day you would finally admit the obvious.

What neither of you knew, was that today was your last chance to say it.

“Here you go.” He says holding a warm cup and walking towards you, making you look up from your book. Suddenly you hear the door slam open, but before you can even recognise his voice Harry has already cast a spell that slams the slytherin into the wall. Hermoine follows quickly, binding his hands with one flick of her wand. Harry picks him from the ground holding him by the collar of his shirt. “You better hope Luna’s alive or this will be your last day!” With one harsh move Harry pushes him towards the door. You watch the scene unfold, eyes filled with horror.

Mattheo

Panic shoots through your body and you take a step between Mattheo and your friends. “What’s going on? What are you doing? You can’t take him.” Mattheo’s heart aches at the sound of your voice. This is exactly what he had wanted to avoid. You should’ve never started caring about him. “They have Luna!” Harry yells in your face. Her name rings in your ears. You feel like you can’t breathe as you realize Voldemort has her. “We’re going to try to trade him… for her.” Hermoine’s voice is filled with fear, she obviously doesn’t have much confidence in their plan.

Mattheo can only see your back but he can imagine the painful expression that must be on your face. His own fate worried him as well. Harry’s eyes were set to kill, but honestly death might be the better option since he knew not to expect a warm welcome from his father after getting caught.

Ignoring your still shocked face Ron reached for Mattheo’s arm pulling him towards the door. Harry and Hermoine follow him, leaving you as you process everything that’s happening. Suddenly, you snap out of it and clench your jaw as you reach for your wand. “You’re not taking him.” You tremble, but hold your wand firmly pointed at Harry. They all turn around and are shocked and confused to see you have your wand pointed at them. Except for Mattheo his eyes are filled with pain. I’m not worth the trouble, love. “We need to get Luna back.” Hermoine argues as she takes a step towards you, making you point your wand at her. “We’ll find another way.” She frowns and it’s then that Mattheo decides he cannot let you do this.

He walks towards you and your eyes move to his. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me, love. Think of Luna.” Your eyes get teary as you shake your head. “You won’t be fine. We have to find another way.” With his hands still tied together he reaches for your hand urging you to lower your wand. “This is your second chance, here with me.” You start sobbing and Mattheo closes his eyes hoping it will make the sound go away. With dead, heartbroken eyes Mattheo turns away from you. “We need to go now, we’re wasting precious time.” The only thing he could do for you now was save Luna. Harry, Ron and Hermoine nod, realizing what they just witnessed was pure heartbreak. For a moment you look down at the ground, tears streaming down. This is unfair.

“You must know where they are keeping her.” You whisper looking up at Mattheo’s back. “We could save her and you could stay.” You sound painfully hopeful, but it convinces your friends to consider your suggestion and look at Mattheo. He however turns to you, torn by what you’re asking of him, to betray all he knows. “Malfoy Manor? Someplace in the dark forest?” Hermoine urges, wishing for everyone's sake that he knows and he’ll tell. With dead eyes he looks at you. “There’s a tower near Marunween Lake. That’s where they would take her.” I want my second chance here with you. You rush towards him and grab his face to kiss him, tears still streaming down your cheeks. He chose to save Luna, he chose you.

Theodore

You immediately reach for Theodore’s arm pulling him towards you and away from the door. “What are you doing? He didn’t do anything.” You defend him with worried eyes. Theodore looks over at your figure softly shaking and your hand tightly holding on to the sleeve of his shirt. You were afraid to lose him and he hated to see you like this. Ron steps between you two, forcing you to let go of Theo. “They took Luna, they’ll hurt her.” He argues, putting no thought into Theodore’s fate. Your eyes go wide as you try to remember the last time you saw Luna. “We hope to get Luna back if we give them Nott.” With your thoughts still circling around Luna, Harry moves Theodore away from you and towards the door.

“No. You can’t do this.” You panic when you realize they’re still planning on taking Theodore. Hermoine notices how Theo closes his eyes at the sound of your begging. Harry walks over to you slightly frustrated. “He’s one of them. He’ll be fine and if not, one less death eater to worry about.” His words break your heart. “No-“ You start, but Theo turns towards you. “I am one of them, (y/n). Forget about me. You were never supposed to care in the first place.” It’s like all air leaves the room and it takes every bit of strength for you to breathe and speak. “But I do care!” Your loud voice startles everyone. “We’ll save Luna, just not by sacrificing you.” Slowly your friends catch on about what’s been going on between you two. “This is your second chance, Theo, here with me. You can still get out.”

Stop caring, (y/n), I beg you. Caring hurts. Theodore shakes his head and forces his tortured eyes to look away from you. There is nothing for me here. When you notice him turn away from you, desperation takes over and you grab his shirt pulling him towards you. You crash your lips on his with determination. “We’ll find another way to save Luna, I need you to stay.” Your hands cling to his shirt afraid to let go. Theo just stares at you. He has no words for you. “How?” Hermoine suddenly asks. “How can we save Luna?” Your eyes flicker around the room as you try to come up with something. “I think I know where they would take her.” Theodore’s words remove the heavy air from the room as hope fills everyone's eyes.

Theodore looks at you slowly allowing himself to believe in that second chance you were talking about. A chance with you. “The Marunween Lake tower.” His eyes don’t leave yours. “We’ll save her.” You whisper with determination, still clinging to Theodore. He nods and lets his head rest on yours. We’ll figure it out and I won’t leave.

Enzo

“Don’t.” You say with a stern voice as you take a step to defend Enzo. “Whatever’s going on he has nothing to do with it.” Your firm words startle everyone, but Hermoine is the first to shake it. “We need to save Luna. We need him so we can get her back.” Your eyes widen as it dawns on you. “How? What happened? Where is she?” Enzo wishes he could hold you and comfort you, but instead he’s tied up and should probably be more concerned about what will happen to him. Voldemort barely trusted him before, now he was most likely done for it.

Hermoine understands that you had a million questions, but bluntly pushes you aside to reach Enzo. There was simply no time to be wasted with Luna’s life on the line. “Enzo and I deserve a say in this. Trading him is a shitty plan and you can’t just throw him back out there.” The trio is getting a bit annoyed with you and your concern for their enemy. When Hermoine and Harry continue to guide Enzo towards the door you realize that they won’t listen so you make a drastic move. You point your wand at Ron, who was still standing near you.

“Enzo’s staying.” You say, again your stern voice is back. Hermoine and Harry go pale as they see a horrified Ron with your wand pointed at his face. Enzo panics, he really doesn’t want you to do anything stupid for his sake. “(Y/n), (y/n), don’t do that. Okay, don’t worry. I’ll be alright. I always find a way out of trouble.” Harry lets him walk towards you and as you wrap your arms around Enzo. “You deserve a second chance. You’re not a death eater Enzo.” You squeeze him and he allows himself to enjoy your warmth one last time. “I’ll get my second chance. Now you have to think about Luna.”

Harry, Ron and Hermoine are surprised that Enzo is the one talking reason and calming you. Clearly something had been going on between you two. When Enzo pulls away silent tears start to make their way down and Enzo feels his heart squeeze like it's been hit by a cruciatus curse. “This is your second chance… here with me.” Enzo’s eyes get watery as he presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be fine and I’ll be back. In the meantime just don’t cook and cut your finger again.” He tries to make you smile, but it only lasts for a second and then the tears are back. So, Enzo bites his tongue and turns away, nodding at Harry that it's time to go.

Suddenly, Hermoine’s voice breaks the darkening sadness with a spark of light. “Look Enzo, maybe you can help us save Luna… Do you have any idea where they would keep her?” Enzo frowns, but after a moment he slowly nods. “I’m going to need a map, but I might have an idea.” You gasp as you finally feel like you can breathe again. You undo Hermoine’s spell binding Enzo’s hands and he immediately pulls you into a hug. “We’re going to save Luna and you’re going to stay with me.” You whisper with your head on his chest. Enzo nudges his noses against you demanding you look up and the moment you do his lips are on yours. Now that I have you in my arms I’m not letting you go. Ever.

Draco

“This is insane.” You say as your eyes fix on Draco’s frightened face. “What are you on about? We need to help Luna.” Ron’s agitated voice startles you for a moment and then you finally realize it. “They have Luna?” You whisper and Harry nods with a pained expression, clearly worried about her. Hermoine points her wand at Draco and tilts her head towards the door, but as soon as Draco takes a step towards the door you panic. “No, you can’t just trade him.” You protest, not concerned about what the trio might think of you. Draco’s frightening eyes turn soft. Oh, please (y/n). Go back to thinking of me as the villain. Don’t make things weird with your silly feelings.

“(Y/n)? It’s Malfoy. Why are we even debating this. We need to save Luna.” Harry can’t wrap his head around your concern for Draco. You look at Draco who shakes his head at the sadness in your eyes. “Let me go back to being a death eater.” You feel tears welling up. “I know you don’t want to. I know that if you had a choice you would stay.” Draco clenches his jaw. “If I had a choice I-“ He stops himself from confessing how much he cares about you and how badly he wants to stay with you. It wouldn’t do any good, so he turns cold. “I don’t have a choice. And you should be ashamed of yourself for caring about someone like me.” His icy voice makes the whole room feel cold, but you see through him and shake the coldness. “But I’m not.” You walk up to him and kiss him. With your hand still on the back of his head you pull away and look over at Harry. “You can’t trade Draco. You need to come up with another plan.” Harry can’t believe what he’s hearing and at the same time he knows that arguing with you is pointless.

Draco's gaze is still fixed on you, still not fully believing you just kissed him. “Okay.” Hermoine breathes, really confused and also happy for you, still very confused. “Different plan. Any suggestions?” Ron looks at Hermoine with raised eyebrows, his brain just completely shut down after seeing you kiss Malfoy. “I might have an idea.” Draco whispers, not very excited to betray Voldemort and his family, but also not wanting you to lose Luna. “I think I might know where Voldemort is keeping his prisoners. We could try and get her out.” Harry, Ron and Hermoine exchange debating looks as you stare at Draco with loving eyes. You’re not a villain.

Blaise

Watching Blaise be slammed into the wall and dragged away from hurt you more than you could’ve ever imagined. A single tear rolls over your cheek as you turn to Harry. “Please, don’t do this. A life among death eaters isn’t a life for him. You have to let him stay.” The three friends stare at you in shock, not considering sympathizing with Blaise. He on the other hand can’t help but feel himself fall in love with you more as he watches a second tear roll over your pretty face. “It doesn’t matter, (y/n).” Blaise speaks up and your eyes are almost afraid to meet him. “I got more than I deserved, spending these few weeks with you. But now you should think of your friend, Luna.” As the trio slowly starts to think about Blaise’s fate, you finally realize Luna’s life is in danger.

Blocking out all feelings of humanity for Blaise, Harry grabs his arm to guide him towards the door. Ron and Hermoine follow, starting to feel bad about this whole situation as they leave you behind. “Blaise, help us save Luna and stay with me.” Your voice trembles and is filled with desperation. You friends turn to look at you, but Blaise remains with his back turned towards you. He clenches his jaw and you walk past him to face him. “Stop pretending that you don’t care. I know you. This is your second chance, here with me, don’t let it pass by. Help us save Luna.” He avoids your eyes, but your words sink deep within him. You reach for his tied up hands and wrap yours around his. “Even if I wanted to help, there’s nothing I can do.” Blaise whispers, finally able to look at you.

Starting to sympathise and seeing possibilities, Harry speaks up. “For starters you could tell us where they might be keeping Luna and how we get in.” Blaise closes his eyes as his heart battles over what to do. “You’ll get to stay with (y/n).” Hermoine adds, trying to convince Blaise. He opens his eyes, immediately locking his eyes with you. “I’ll help. I’m pretty sure I know where they’re keeping Luna.” Your smile radiates happiness and Blaise can’t help but smile in return as the enormous weight on his shoulders drops. You can no longer contain your love for him and sling your arm around him, kissing him with indescribable passion. Ron quirks an eyebrow at your joy and Hermoine even lets out a chuckle.

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini #blaise zabini imagine #blaise zabini x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

[surielstea]

Adoration | Drabble

Based on this request.

Pairing: Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary: Cass comforts reader who is struggling with her reflection after giving birth.

Warnings: Body image issues | fluff

1k words

A/N: YOU GUYS ARE ALL SO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL AND ANYONE WHO SAYS DIFFERENT CAN DISRESPECTFULLY FUCK OFF. (Said in a loving way) 💙💙

Finding an outfit for dinner with the Inner Circle turned out to be the most challenging task I've been given today. I stood in front of the full length mirror with a woeful frown on my face.

The navy blue dress I wore was beautiful on the hanger but on me it just, wasn't right. I couldn't place exactly what it was about me but I couldn't find it in myself to feel pretty anymore. The material sat wrong on my skin and the color washed my complexion out. I felt mediocre, at best.

"Mother spare me." My mate voices from the doorway and I startled, flicking my eyes to him in the mirror and crossing my arms over my chest.

"I know, I should change." I mumble, thinking it stupid of me for even attempting to wear something so bold.

"What— why would you change?" He creases his dark brows, clearly confused. I turn to him, letting my arms fall to my sides.

"I look bad." I shrug and he blinks, gazing at me like I'm insane.

"You? Look bad?" He asked as if the idea was preposterous, his tone utterly aghast.

"Yeah." I sigh and walk over to the armoire, opening the doors of the wardrobe.

"Sweetheart, you're the most beautiful female I've ever seen." He walks further into the bedroom, our daughter cooing in her crib as he passed by her.

"You're only saying that because I'm your mate." I grumble, shuffling through the racks of clothing I no longer had any confidence to wear.

"No, before we were even mated I thought the same." He argues and I swivel, looking straight up at him.

"That was before I had Ellia." I gesture towards the crib beside me. His eyes go wide in shock and he glances towards the babbling babe then back to me, hazel now full of pure warmth.

"That only makes you more beautiful," His expression softens as he brings his large calloused hands up to my cheeks. "You look just like her, that's more than I could've asked for." He utters, his thumbs stroking the sides of my cheeks.

"It's not about my face." I murmur, crossing my arms over my torso again.

"What? Your body?" He arches a brow. I give a slight dip of my head. "My love, I'd never want to invalidate how you feel but, c'mon, this is foolish." His hands leave my cheeks and go to my shoulders, running down my arms and dipping to my hips. "Ive seen you decapitate men twice my size, you're the last Valkyrie standing and you're letting this get you down?" He tilts his head and I tear my gaze from his, turning back around toward the clothes.

"I know, It's dumb." I huff, finally finding an all black dress that wasn't tight in any unflattering places.

"It's not dumb, I'm sorry," he wraps his arms around my waist, my back flush against his chest. "You birthed a living child less than a month ago, do you know how much I admire you because of that?" He asks and I can't help but melt into his warmth. "The fact you can think so lowly of yourself is insanity, you're the most beautiful female I've ever seen." He reiterates, his strong arms tightening around me. "I love you, okay?" He hums into my hair and I nod.

"I love you too." My hands rest on his, running my thumb over a small scar on the back of his palm. He presses a hard kiss to my temple and he takes the black dress from my hold, hanging it back up on the rack. "Leave this on." His hands drift down to my hips. "I want to take it off of you later." He hums, pressing his lips to the side of my jaw and I roll eyes at the comment.

"You're ridiculous." I shake my head, but close the doors of the armoire anyways and let him have what he wants.

"Conceiving another child could take years, I want Ellia to have a sibling." He shrugs and I scoff turning to look up at him.

"You're a very dedicated male." I rise onto the tips of my toes to peck his lips. "And also forgetful that we can't do whatever we want anymore." I intone, bending down over the edge of the crib and picking the murmuring babe up. She wore a frilly dark red dress, matching her father's siphons.

"I can find a babysitter, maybe Az is free..." He wonders absentmindedly and I giggle. "We've both learned from experience that Az isn't a very good chaperone." I croon, rocking the child in my arms. "No, uncle Az isn't good at watching people is he my sweet?" I coo at Ellia in a high-pitched voice and she reaches towards me, her small fist clenching, trying to grab my nose. I smile and kiss her forehead.

I look back up to Cassian and he's staring at me like I hung every star in the night sky, pure adoration and devotion in those swirling hazel eyes, staring at the two most important people in his life. "Thank you Cassian." I speak lightly. His eyes flick down to the child in my arms then back up to me.

"Don't ever thank me." He shakes his head, taking the girl from my arms as I pass her to him. She was so much smaller in his grasp, she made him look like an absolute giant. "And you, my heart," He kisses his daughter on the cheek, a wide smile spreads over her lips. "You don't even thank me for anything either." He hums, matching her cheeky grin.

"C'mon, we're going to be late." I say, wrapping my arm around his bicep. "Fine with me," He purrs, leaning down and kissing up my jaw. "Cass, Rhys will kill me if we don't show up again." I playfully punch his abdomen and he backs away.

"Alright fine." He sighs, readjusting the child to be held in one arm so he can intertwine his freehand with mine. "But we're only staying for dinner. I was serious about that sibling thing."

Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glam-targaryen @going-through-shit @fauxdette @impossibelle @amara-moonlight @webecheesy-blog

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

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#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #fanfic #sarah j maas #x reader #cassian x fem!reader #cassian x reader #cassian #acotar fluff #fluff #comfort fic #comfort #drabble #writing #lord of bloodshed #suriels tea

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XI

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X

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

Piece of scum.

Satoru was watching your adored Haruki flirting, or rather, what he thought was flirting, with a girl from behind the cash register at the coffee shop he worked at. Satoru was still outside, just looking through the window. While you had said he was just overly nice to everyone, it did not change the fact that Gojo was still repulsed by him.

As to why he was there while you were at the school with Shoko...

“Do you really want me to apologize to him?” Satoru’s contorted face looked as if he had smelled something bad.

You gave him a soft smile. “It wouldn’t hurt you to apologize for being rude to him,” you stated, but he did not really agree. “I’m not saying you have to do it. Just… He is under the impression that you don’t like him.”

Well, he is not wrong.

Satoru had not said that aloud, but your expression suggested you had read his mind.

“Just maybe try to be nicer to him next time you see him, can you?” you questioned with a pleading smile and those eyes Satoru would do anything for. He sighed, defeated.

So, here he was. He had dismissed Suguru after their mission to come here alone, although he did not want to. In any case, he figured talking to Ikeda directly would be a better approach than him trying to play good friends with him and pretending he actually liked the guy.

Better get it over and done with.

He strode in confidently.

“Welcome!” Ikeda and the other few employees said in unison when the little bell at the door rang announcing a new customer. Satoru kept walking forward.

“What can I get for…” Ikeda’s smile froze when he saw Gojo. “Oh, it’s you.” He was still smiling, but it looked a bit less rehearsed than for the other costumers. “[name] is not here today, but…”

“I know.” Gojo did not let him continue. “I actually wanted to talk to you. Got a minute?”

“That’s unexpected… But sure.” Haruki peeked at his watch. “Do you mind waiting? My shift will end in a few. You can order something in the meantime.”

Gojo noticed that, despite his words, the boy did not look surprised at all.

“It’s fine, thanks.” Satoru walked to one of the vacant tables and sat down. The girl that had been talking with Haruki just a minute ago, looked at him from another table. He did not mind her and neither seem to do Ikeda anymore.

Gojo thought he should not need more than two minutes to make things clear with Haruki; he was just going to tell him that he had not meant anything before and that it was cool that you two were friends as long as he was not up to any funny business. Or maybe he would leave out that last part. If any word of him trying to intimidate your friend were to reach you, coming here would have been a waste of time.

After all, he was doing this because of you, so he was coming in peace and would leave in peace.

The cardboard cup that was placed in front of Satoru interrupted his thoughts, and when he looked up, he saw Ikeda looking at him.

“[name] said you drink it like this. It’s on the house.”

“Uh, thanks.” Satoru thought it strange. Did he just memorize everyone’s coffee order? He was not even sure Ikeda knew who he was when he first entered, and now he knew how he drank his coffee?

He saw him walk into the back of the establishment.

After five minutes or so, Ikeda returned, no longer wearing his apron. He was on his high school uniform. Satoru had seen the girl from earlier wearing the same hue of blue on her skirt. Ikeda waved at her and turned to Satoru.

“Is it okay if we talk on the way? I’d rather not missing my train.”

“Fine by me.” Satoru got up and threw the half-full coffee in the trashcan. The two of them walked out as Satoru spared a glance on what seemed to be Ikeda’s classmate direction before marching ahead, which the other boy noticed.

“It’s probably not what you think it is. She is a classmate.”

“I thought she was your friend,” was all Gojo told him, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Haruki nod.

“One has to be friendly towards customers, right?” He was not putting up his work smile anymore.

So you turn it off and on like a switch?

They were walking pretty much side by side when Haruki asked “What did you want to tell me?”

Fine, right to the subject. I'll just say it and leave.

“I don’t know if you remember but we spoke on the phone the other day.” Not really, Satoru thought. Actually, I spoke and hung up on you.

The slightest smiled appeared on Haruki’s face. “I remember.”

“So…” Satoru did not want to do this, but he reminded himself he had to. “So I just wanted to say I’m sorry if... If I was rude.”

An awkard silence followed. Was Ikeda not suppossed to accept his apology and let him leave?

Haruki finally hummed. “Is that really all you wanted to say?”

It surprised Gojo a bit. He had not expected him to dig deeper.

“Yeah, it’s all. [name] said you might think I don’t like you, so…”

So I came here to try to convince you otherwise or convince them. Just don’t make it harder.

“And isn’t that true?” Ikeda halted and turned his head to Gojo, who swore he had seen that cold expression before. And same as previously, he saw it melt into a smile, but it was not like the one he always had for you. Satoru knew it immediately: that smile was meant to deceive. “It’s alright, you don’t have to reply; I know the answer.”

They were heading for the station, and Satoru wondered if he should just leave Haruki behind. After all, he had already said what he wanted to say, more or less.

The blue-eyed boy cleared his throat. “It does not matter, what I think of you, I mean. I’m just the friend of a friend.”

Ikeda did not look at him. “True, but you are not just any friend,” they were entering the station, “and you know it, don’t you, Satoru?”

It was Gojo’s turn to halt. Not that he cared too much, but what was with the informality now? He had never called him by his first name.

Ikeda gave him an innocent smile. “Sorry. That’s what [name] calls you. I guess it just rubbed off on me.”

“I don’t mind, Haruki.” Gojo’s voice strained on the boy’s name, but his face was serious as he tried to weigh him. He had never attempted to hold a long conversation with Ikeda, so maybe he was just not used to his manner. In any case, it still felt as if he was trying to sting him with his words, and if that was the case, Gojo would sting back.

Ikeda strutted ahead. “Now that I think of it, did we ever get introduced formally? I can’t remember, but I guess it doesn’t matter. I know your name just as you know mine, right?”

Gojo had decided to leave in peace, but with that guy's tone, it was tempting to let his resolve crumble.

“What do you want?” Satoru grumbled finally.

They had reached the platform where Haruki was going to wait for his train, and he offered him a disinterested look in response. “What do you mean?”

“From [name]. What do you want from them?”

“Sorry, but I'm not following.” Haruki shrugged. “I’m just their friend.”

“So am I.” Satoru was looking right at him through his shades. A grin appeared on Haruki’s face.

“If you are trying to say we cannot both be their friends, I guess I would have to be something else then.”

His tone was lighthearted, but Satoru knew his intentions were not, not to him at least.

“Unless that bothers you.” Haruki looked at him.

Ikeda thought Gojo looked nothing like when he was with you, always playful and smiling at your sight.

He looks so serious now.

Gojo did not back off, but his voice did not sound as confident as before when he asked “Why should it bother me?”

“I like them.”

Gojo tensed at his words.

Although it was true Haruki liked you, he had, in fact, been expecting Gojo to admit the same, and maybe get a little bit more honest if he provoked him. All he knew about Gojo was because of you, but the things he had seen for himself, the way he always sat closer to you, how he acknowledged you first among your group of friends, and that more often than not, he was the one blowing up your phone when you were out with him, all of it had made him think he did not see you just as a friend.

Surely, Haruki had been confused about how you defined your relationship with Gojo as well. However, you said you knew him since forever, and that made people often get the wrong idea. He had no reason to doubt your words, but looking at Gojo now...

Is it the wrong idea, though?

Either you were oblivious or Gojo’s love was fated to go down as unrequited. In any case, Haruki believed Satoru should at least own up to it.

“I wasn’t sure before, but...” Haruki looked at Satoru’s covered eyes with a smile “…you are a coward, Gojo.”

The sound of the train approaching echoed in Satoru’s head just as much as Ikeda’s words.

Had this guy really said that?

Ikeda watched the train stop and open its doors for boarding. The station was, surprisingly, not too crowded despite it being almost the peak hour.

“This is me.” Haruki gestured to the train. “See you around.”

Satoru heard the train doors closing, but his gaze was still fixed on where Ikeda had been standing. “Yeah, see you around,” he muttered for himself.

***

Truth was Satoru had not seen Haruki after that. You still went to the coffee shop where he worked and hung out with him a few more times after the start of that winter, though, and then, he had been gone.

Until now.

You were in front of your building, talking to a man that Gojo recognized immediately despite not having seen him in many years.

Satoru had tried to talk to you all week, but his missions kept pulling him away, and it did not help that you were busy with your own load of work. So, even when he knew it was a bit too late to pay any respectable visit, he had come to your place to talk.

Ieiri had told him you had left the school a few minutes earlier, and then he had been pulled into a meeting with Yaga that seemed to have dragged on for an eternity. Thus, he had come up with the bright idea of asking Ijichi to drop him off at your place. He had not anticipated finding this scene, though.

Had you left early to go out with that man? Satoru pondered it while still in the car. What was it? A dinner? You had mentioned lunches and coffee with Ikeda since you had told him about your reencounter, but not dinners.

Satoru looked at your frame. You were smiling at something Haruki had said.

In all honesty, Satoru had often found himself distracted by your smile during the last months. It was not only your smile; it was your voice during meetings, the way you moved when you were training the students, your eyes when you were talking to him or Shoko. To the point Ieiri had sometimes whispered to him “It’s rude to stare”, because he had been looking at you for too long. How could Shoko tell, he was not sure. He thought his blindfold should conceal his gaze, but maybe it was not as effective as he thought.

Gojo sighed. He had not noticed until after your confession just how smitten with you he was.

In the meantime, Ijichi was feeling pretty uncomfortable in the driver seat. It was not unusual that Gojo asked to be taken to your place, but he was sure he had interrupted something between you and him a week ago, and he did not recognize the man you were talking to now. Nevertheless, he could feel Gojo’s uneasiness, and if the strongest was restless, what would be of the rest of the world?

Ijichi believed both of them felt equally uncomfortable when the man leaned closer to your face.

“What is he…?” he started asking, but Gojo shushed him. Through the rear-view mirror, he saw Gojo was looking attentively too.

Ijichi’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. Was him seeing this really okay? You had been a kind senior to him in your high school days, and this felt like invading your privacy.

He could ask Gojo if they should leave, but he was not sure that any questions would be welcomed by the white-haired man that seemed so invested in the scene in front of your building.

On his end, Satoru felt an increasing pressure in his chest. You had told him you liked him. Why were you letting another man that close? Were you going to kiss him? He had never seen Ikeda kiss you, and he definitely did not want to see it now.

He put his hand on the door handle.

What exactly was he going to say to you now?

Ijichi’s eyes kept going back and forth between you and the man and Satoru on the rear-view mirror. He thought he heard him sigh when you stopped the man’s hand that had touched your face and took a short step back, smiling.

Satoru saw your lips move. You were telling Ikeda something.

Please don’t invite him up. Please don’t invite him up.

Haruki bid you goodbye with a smile and started walking away.

Satoru spared him a look. The streetlights illuminated his figure just enough to notice he was taller than before, but his features had not changed much. You probably had recognized him the second you saw him at that store. Satoru’s eyes returned to you as you entered your building.

“Thanks, Ijichi.” With that, Gojo got off and walked after you.

“[name].”

You were climbing the first set of stairs. “Satoru?” It did not take him long to reach the stairs. “Is everything okay?”

You were glad to see him, but you had not made plans with him today, and although he would come unannounced most times, there was something about his expression that made you think he had rushed here.

He smiled. “It is. I just wanted to see you. Can I come up?”

That’s a first. Since when did he ask for permission to go to your home?

“Sure.”

As you walked to your floor, you took in Satoru’s demeanor. He looked pretty much the same as always, but the almost imperceptible way he was delaying his step, led you to believe there was something in his mind.

“You left the school early,” he mentioned casually.

You nodded. “I finished everything early, and…”, Satoru noticed the slightest bit of hesitation in your voice, “I had plans. Ikeda invited me to dinner; he just left, actually.”

“I think I saw him outside.” Satoru’s voice showed no emotion, but he tried to smile. “He hasn’t changed, right?” The smile did not come out.

“Not much," you agreed.

You reached your floor and headed to your door.

“I had a meeting with Yaga.” Satoru watched you take out your keys.

“How did that go?” Had Yaga told him something that was now occupying his mind?

You entered your key in the lock and looked at Gojo.

That tense smile again.

A turn of your key and the door opened, but Satoru stayed frozen in place, so you did not move either.

“Satoru, did Yaga send you to execute me?”

Of course, you had not done anything worthy of such a drastic action, but why else would he come at this hour looking so stiff?

Gojo laughed and, for a second, he looked like himself. “How did you know?” He followed you inside.

You took off your shoes and said with a grin. “Is that or he sent you to fire me. Which one is it?”

In truth, Satoru was feeling anxious. He had wanted to get a hold of you all week and thought a lot about what he was going to say to you when he did, but now that he had you finally in front of him, his heart felt too loud in his chest, and he could not remember how he had planned to start this conversation.

“Yeah, he said you don’t need to come in tomorrow, but you can expect your pay on Monday.” At least he could still get jokes out.

You smiled and swayed to your small living room, sitting down on the same couch where he had fallen asleep last time you had a movie marathon. He wanted to sit next to you, but he felt too fidgety, so he opted for standing in front of you.

“Now is a good time to prove your friendship to me and tell me you are going to cover my expenses until I find a new job.” You were grinning at him, a gesture he returned.

“Of course. In the other hand, I could let you just starve to death.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He smiled, and you knew it was his way of saying ‘No, I wouldn’t’.

You had been blown away that time you realized one of Satoru’s shirts costed almost as much as everything stored in your wardrobe, except for, maybe, the things Satoru himself had gifted to you, which you no longer wanted to ask the price of. Even though you had scolded him for being so wasteful when it came to presents for you or anyone -the sweater he gave to Shoko for her birthday was not cheap either- you knew that, as extravagant as it looked, he was just generous.

You raised an eyebrow. “You can sit down, you know?”

He licked his lips. “I think I’m good.”

Was he really getting ready to execute you?

You shifted in your seat. “Okay, you are making me nervous now…Are you really…?”

“Just hear me out, okay?” When you nodded, he continued, ignoring the suspicions look on your face. “Remember that time you told me you liked me?”

Your lips parted. Of course you remembered, but you had never expected him to mention it so directly. Was not there an implicit agreement to never talk about it again?

“Back then, I…”

Why was he bringing it up now? Maybe it would have been better being executed...

“I remember. You rejected me.” You averted your gaze. It was the first time you had said it aloud and it tugged at your heartstrings.

Satoru crouched down in front of you. You had seen him do something similar with his students. Right after beating them, he would kneel before them to explain where they had gone wrong in their attack. Was he trying to do that now?

“[name]…”

“We don’t have to talk about it.” You thought it had been long forgotten, and you two were doing fine. There was no need to recall that humiliating chapter of your friendship.

With your faces almost at the same level, Satoru could see your puzzled expression.

“But I want to talk about it. I didn’t…” Satoru was going to say he had not exactly rejected you, but you interrupted him again.

“Why?” You were not angry, but he perceived the same hurt tone he had heard that time. “If you feel uncomfortable, you have no reason to be. It was a crush, Satoru. I don’t know why I said anything. I’m sorry, okay?”

You were not apologizing for liking him, you could never, but if he was bringing it up because he felt weird or if he thought you needed an explanation, you would do anything to save your friendship.

“A crush?” he asked. Just a crush?

That pained him just as much as the look on your face.

“Yes.” Just like that time, your eyes were on his even though he had them covered. “We can forget it. I’m over it.”

Satoru felt as if you were ripping his heart out.

He looked at you. A crush you were done with? That would hurt anyone’s ego, but that was not what pained him. His was not a crush, and what he felt for you would not go away in a matter of weeks or months. Satoru had realized that he had been falling for you for years now, in too deep to ever get out. And you had liked him for a second and now you did not anymore?

Satoru’s gaze landed on your lap and the hand scratching your wrist. You were nervous because you were anticipating an argument or…?

“You are lying,” Satoru stated flatly, and if he had not been wearing the blindfold, his eyes would have pierced your soul when they searched for yours.

He could read you well.

“But I want to get over you.” The way your words came out surprised you. You had told yourself you did not blame him for not reciprocating your feelings; it was not his fault, and he was under no obligation to feel the same way, but you still sounded resentful.

I won’t be a bother, just let me stay as your friend.

Satoru knew he would regret asking, but he did it anyway. “Because of Ikeda?”

Was he still upset about that?

“If you came here to argue about him...”

“Do you like him?” It was a question Satoru had avoided asking you for as long as he could back then. And even after he did, your answer had been simple: it was not like that. But now, what were you going to say?

“Satoru, just…”

It took a second for your mind to fully register what happened next: Satoru leaned forward swiftly, his hand was on your cheek and his lips were on yours. Your eyes had closed by reflex, and his lips, as soft as they looked, were moving against yours.

You reciprocated.

Through the years, always denying you were a couple, in your opinion, none of you had ever crossed any boundaries, except once. Satoru and you had kissed twice before. The first time had been an accident; the second, an attempt to prove that kissing a friend did not mean anything, or that was what Satoru had said.

A suppressed grunt came out of him, and you were reminded of his exact words.

“We are friends, so it doesn’t mean anything, right?”

You pressed your hand to his chest to push him back.

When you separated, you were both a little out of breath, but that was not Satoru’s main concern.

“I can’t believe you are this selfish.” Your voice cracked, and Satoru saw nothing but hurt and sadness in your eyes.

“What?” He had kissed you because he loved you, and he was pretty sure you felt the same when you kissed him back.

You blinked, trying to keep the tears forming in your eyes from falling.

“Why kiss someone you feel nothing for?”

He was dumbfounded. That was not…

“It’s horrible." You had never looked at him this way. "You should leave, Satoru.” You were already escaping his hold and getting up, looking away from him.

In the blink of an eye, Satoru had teleported away, and when you blinked again, all the tears you had been holding back streamed down.

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

Note: I... have nothing say. I'll go and hide somewhere.

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part XII

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk #satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #pay it no mind #gojo fluff

[thevestigeofvanillaan]

Interlinked.

nerdy!kyle x popular!reader.

content: female reader, smut, "y/n", talking through snaps (snapchat, partial)

pervy nerdy kyle🤝slutty popular y/n

ive been inspired by @bro-flov-ski (go follow!) so here's this..

you had him in a choke hold. he couldn't breathe in your presence. as you walked past him in the hallways with your little skirt hiking up, your coy smile, and eye contact; he held his breath.

kyle let out a big sigh when you turned the corner, stan asks "dude why don't you just ask her out? you guys snap all the time and she clearly has a thing for you."

"are you crazy?" kyle looks at stan with wide eyes. "someone like me could never be with someone like her. she probably likes some jock or something." his phone buzzes and he's excited at the noise, quickly checking it and smiling when he sees your name on the screen.

"don't look at me like that, we only snap because that's what girls do." kyle shoves stan in the shoulder before walking into chemistry.

he was shocked to see that you moved your seat next to where he'd been sitting. you sat so pretty, your thighs looking so plump for him and your breasts so close to slipping out of the tight shirt youre wearing. he almost instantly felt hard at the sight of you, on your phone not even recognizing his perv ass staring at you as he made his way to his seat.

you look up in surprise when you hear the chair being pulled next to you. "oh, hey kyle didn't see you there." you smile pretty at him, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you stare at him with a face full of lust.

"hi y/n." he mumbles briefly, taking a seat.

the bulge in his pants was too obvious, he knew that. you thought it was so cute though, that he couldn't help himself around you. it even turned you on a little.

in front of your whole class, he was rock hard at the mere sight of you. how cute, covering himself with his jacket. "what do you have to hide, ky?" you giggle.

he looks at you with a nervous expression and you only laugh harder. he was so precious. you crossed your legs and used the one higher to graze his leg with it. you watch him avoiding your gaze, refusing to look at you, looking at anything but. you watched as he bit his lip and sat up.

poor thing was probably so desperate for you then. "im sorry, that must be so hard for you.." you say quietly as you rub his leg with your foot, going higher up with each graze.

you could hear his breath hitch and his lips quiver slightly and decided that was enough teasing.. for now.

later that day when you were home you decided kyle had you on delivered for too long and sent him a more.. bold snap of you.

you were in a tank top and panties and decided to take a mirror picture for him. you added a caption saying "wydd".

he responded quickly once you'd double snapped him. although, he took a minute to respond. must have been looking at the picture for an extra minute, you figured.

you were surprised to see his snap being a mirror picture of himself, shirtless in gray sweatpants which make it easy to see the imprint in his pants. it was captioned "thinking about you".

that was the boldest thing you'd seen him do. turned on by this, you respond with a picture of you with your tongue out. captioning it "yeah? what kind of thoughts? dirty ones?".

again, quickly responding. it was a picture of him with his tongue out too. captioned "would it be weird if i was?".

"it'd be hot" you respond. "what kind of dirty stuff are you thinking about kyle?".

"idk.. fucking you?😂" (unironically using the laughing emoji is such a nerdy kyle thing btw).

"felt so bad for you in chem today, wish i could have helped you with that.."

"oh yeah?" the snap was a picture of him and you could tell he was doing things off camera.

so naughty of him, but it was so hot to you. this nerdy boy being so desperate and hard for you.

you send a picture of you cupping one of your breasts through your thin tank top. "yeah ;)."

"maybe you could help me next time?" he replied about two minutes later after having you on opened. must've been looking at the picture pumping his cock, so desperate for you.

the truth was that you were desperate for him too.. teasing yourself wishing it was his fingers instead of yours. you couldn't get off to the fact that he wasn't the one touching you, you needed him, bad.

the next day was a friday and school went on as usual until chemistry when you saw kyle again.

when you saw him already sitting down as you walked into the classroom suddenly the air felt thicker. you wanted him but you had to keep your cool.

sitting right next to him, he stares. blatantly staring directly at you with a cocky grin. you'd never seen him like that before.

"hey." you say trying to sound casual.

he chuckles softly, still smirking at you while shaking his head slowly, looking down "hi.".

oh his laugh. his little breathy chuckle. it was so attractive.

"wanna hang out after school?" you asked. what was the worst that could happen? it's a friday and you wanted to see if those texts would go through in person..

his eyes dart to yours and he looks serious before he laughs softly. "naughty girl, aren't you?".

"what? no!" you shake your head and laugh. "i mean only if you.." you make eyecontact again and both laugh and look away awkwardly.

"don't be afraid now," he starts to play with one of the bracelets he was wearing. "i won't bite you unless you want me to."

you laugh and cover your smile and the teacher begins the class finally.

the time after school rolls around and you decide to text kyle when you got home. "still down to hang out?"

he responds quickly. "yeah, my place?" he says.

"sure," you send. "can i head over now?"

when you got there you knocked on the door and a couple seconds later there was kyle standing at the door, inviting you inside to his home.

making casual conversation as he leads you to his room, your pinkie interlinked with his.

"yeah" he responds and sends his address and you drive over to his house which isn't that far from yours.

you giggle as you sit on his bed next to him, as close as you could be. his thigh against yours.

"so what do you wanna do?" he laughs almost awkwardly. he was so handsome as you were looking into his eyes. his beautiful eyes which spoke to yours.

you laugh at what you were about to say. "i think you know what i wanna do.." you smile down and use your pinkie to draw pictures on his knee.

"oh do i?" he smirks.

"mhmm.." you mumble and your faces get closer when you slowly move to straddle him, him guiding your hips to the right place as you slowly begin to grind against him. you could feel his hot breath against your open lips and your eyes flutter shut as your lips make contact with kyle's.

they meet again but with more passion and for longer this time and both of your breathing gets heavier. your grinding becomes more synchronized and everything becomes unreal.

his hands traveled your body, trying to memorize every curve before tapping your thigh softly. "can i?" he asks, playing with the hem of your shirt and you nod into his neck with a hum, still grinding against him.

he takes your shirt off and you lift your arms so he could do so easier, quickly moving your hands to either side of his face before kissing him passionately.

he hums into your mouth in pleasure of his cock being dry humped, especially by you.

this felt like a dream.

"please.." you mumble quietly into his ear. "ill be a good girl, need you so bad, ky.." your hands caress his chest and his head falls back before he nods with a soft chuckle.

"okay, okay.. it's okay baby. im not going anywhere, okay?" he hushes you, holding your hips to slow you down so he can give you what you want. "you want my cock?"

you nod. you wanted it so bad. you were so wet already he didn't even need to do anything to prepare you.

he helped you take off your skirt after you got off him and he laid you down on his bed gently, placing a pillow behind your head and upper back to ensure that you're comfortable.

unzipping his pants and taking out his cock and teasing his own tip with his thumb as you watched intently. mumbling as you rub your thighs together, he rubs them and gently moves them apart. "hey, hey.. it's okay. you ready?"

"mhm.. please, ky." you practically whine and he lines his cock up with your entrance before slowly sliding in.

"fuckk.. you're being such a good girl for me, huh? that's it doll, just like that f'me.." he groans before he whimpers softly when his whole length is inside of you. his whimpers.. they were addicting.

you whine at his noises and the feeling of him stretching you out so good with his fat cock..

"you okay?" he asks, moving a chunk of hair put of the way of your eyes so you could look into his eyes. "look at me, doll." immediately you look up into his pretty eyes. "you ready for me?"

you nod.

"no, no baby. you gotta tell me you're ready.."

"mm ready ky.. please." and he thrusts hard into you, making you gasp and moan loud. he laughs and continues thrusting into you at a pretty fast pace, groaning at the feeling of your tight wet walls clenching around him.

wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you, scratching at his bare back, definitely leaving red scratch marks but you hadn't cared. not when he was making you feel so good..

his voice, the things he was saying, the situation, him.. it was all so much and it got you so close so fast.

him too. he was ready to crack so soon. but he wouldn't cum before you would..

fucking hard into you as you moan out his name in pleasure. "fuck!– ky, im gonna—."

"you are?"

"mmmhmmm.." you can't help it, you were so close.

"fuck baby me too.. where–" you cut him off.

"in me please ky i need you to fill me up so bad i need you.."

and with that both of you were reaching your climaxes together.. loud moans and heavy breathing filling the whole room before almost silence falls apart from the breathing.

he laughs when you two make eye contact and you smile. "what?"

"nothing.." he laughs again.

"no! what?" you giggle and sit up, backing away from him.

"nothing! i just never thought i would have ever done that with you.." he responds.

you couldn't help but smile at him.. "me either.."

THEN U GUYS GOT MARRIED THE END OK MY PHONE IS LAGGING I LOVE U GUYS BYE

#vanillaan #south park #smut #kyle south park #south park x reader #kyle broflovski #south park smut #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski headcanons #south park kyle #kyle x reader #go follow my pookie

[k9iriz]

𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦 𝘬𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!/𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

(this was requested just like my first ney fic, but it’s gonna be two totally different ones, just with the same title.)

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩 𝙙𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚, 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙤𝙪𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙪𝙗𝙗𝙞𝙣𝙜 (😩)

tonight was the night i finally got to go out, after all, i deserved it.

i had on a lace bra, before spraying some perfume on my top part before i fixed my lace panties as i admired my whole appearance, smiling widely at how fine i looked.

sheesh.

“oh damnit…” i mouthed, walking downstairs as i forgot my leggings in the laundry room as i was in a rush.

soon before i hit the bottom, i seen the living room cleaned as kylian had put our daughter down for bed already, making me smile.

he’s been doing so good helping me out due to him having games and practices and being gone half the days or even more.

you just took in how much of a help he’s been, even agreeing to let you go out.

“girl, i don’t know if i can make it out tonight…ive been busy.” i sighed into the phone as our daughter cried louder, rushing to warm her milk in the bottle warmer.

“i hear her crying…all of the girls agreed to go out-” hiba got cut off before i heard the door open, revealing kylian as he immediately took the bottle from you before he grabbed your crying daughter, giving it straight to her.

you sighed in relief as your hair was hardly done, nails weren’t done, you looked stressed and tired, kylian even sees it.

“yeah but, im gonna be stuck with my baby today. im sorry.” i frowned running my hands through my hair, i really would’ve taken that opportunity to go out if i had the chance.

“then my nails and hair isn’t done, nothing is done.” i explained as hiba laughed, making me laugh along with her as she expressed her sadness of me not going out with none of the psg girls like i used to before i got pregnant.

“okay, ill talk to you later.” i smiled as i heard toys clanking, seeing kylian cleaning the messy living room as i sighed, sitting on the couch.

“hi, mon amour.” kylian kissed my forehead as i smiled, kissing him back.

“hey.” i sighed, finally feeling relaxed.

“you know, you can go out tonight. i don’t have practice until next week.” kylian sat next to me, pulling me straight on his lap.

“you sure?” you asked, admiring your fine ass man.

“yeah. and plus, you deserve it amor.” kylian smiled at you as you grabbed his face, kissing him repeatedly, jumping up in excitement as you planned the night, soonly thinking…how am i gonna get pampered in less than 6 hours?

“i just sent you some money, amor.” you heard as he read your mind just like that, i love him.

“baby!” i yelled as kylian walked from the garage, before he paused, just admiring you and your figure.

“oh! you scared me.” i jumped as i walked over to him, just him staring at me.

“is she down for bed?” i asked as i grabbed my leggings out the laundry basket before sliding them on, fixing my silver anklet in the process.

“yes she is…come here for a second.” kylian said, using his pointer finger as i walked over to him with a worried face, thinking my hair was messed up.

“what is it?—is it my hair?” i asked as kylian smiled down at me before his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me in, taking in my scent.

“you look so fucking good, mon amour.” kylian groaned into your neck, as he caressed my ass, making me giggle, feeling his breath hitched across my neck.

“mnm—kylian i have to finish getting dressed!” i squealed as i pulled away, before he pulled on my leggings, trailing me back to the couch, standing between his legs.

“not in these panties.” kylian shook his head as he didn’t get a clear look at your underwear at first, seeing your thong print outside of them.

“kyliannn! i wanna wear these…” i whined as he shook his head, pulling at the hem of them.

“i can see the print outside of these. take them off and change in front of me.” kylian demanded, grabbing some other panties from the laundry basket, handing them to me.

“no!—you can barley see the panty line!” i protested as he texted away on his phone, still not giving up his request.

you were beyond annoyed as he didn’t approve of your outfit, rolling my eyes at my husband before i stormed away, he shot me a glare, slapping my ass in the process.

lord i jumped-

“now, y/n.” kylian looked up at me as his typing stopped, making me huff, rolling my eyes as he watched my every move.

“ugh…i hate you.” i mumbled as i groaned, slowly taking off my panties before i mumbled insults of unfairness under my breath.

this wasn’t fair at all…like?

“and since you have a attitude, let me fix it for you.” kylian pulled you onto his lap, before your phone buzzed, 5 missed messages from hiba, lord knows what you’ve gotten yourself into.

- hiba: where are you??

- hiba: hey, im on the way, all of the girls.

- hiba: and plus we get in free tonight, so be ready or ill come in

- hiba: hello?

10 minutes later…

kylian gripped my ankles as his strokes got slower and slower, hitting my spot as i could do nothing but stare up at him, being lost in all the bliss of pleasure that was coming towards me.

my thighs touched the bed , my legs up near his waist with his hands wrapped around my ankles, keeping me in place as my head hung off the couch.

he didn’t even take me upstairs…

our daughter could really walk out her room and see her parents on the couch…

kylian had a habit of fucking me on everything around the house and it turned him on more than in the bedroom, which irritated me because our child is old enough to come out and see what we could be doing.

“i-it’s in my stomach ky—oh my god…” i faintly whined as tears ran down my face, he was roughly abusing my g-spot, causing me to cum over and over again on his dick.

he really pulled my panties aside and handled his business-

kylian let go of my ankles before he placed his arms besides my head, staring right down at me before gripping my face to look up at him.

“if i say you can’t wear those panties…i ment it.” kylian spoke to you, his accent getting deeper.

“y-yes…” i faintly spoke above a moan as his hand wrapped around my neck as his strokes got a little faster by the time.

“this is all mines. everything on your body is mines. nobody else gets to see it but fucking me, understand?” kylian said, as he slowly talked to me through my orgasm.

“yes baby yes…” i gripped his wrist as my moans got louder and louder, missing that my phone was ringing…

kylian looked over as he mentally smirked, grabbing it before handing to me. “awnser it, amour.” kylian suggested, slowing down his strokes a bit.

before i could catch my breath, i swiped awnser as i kept my forehead in the few of the camera, as he rubbed my clit, causing me to jolt, gripping his wrist again.

“where are you? we’re outside waiting for you!” hiba awnsered in the phone as kylian’s rolled onto mines, causing my eyes to roll back, but soonly stopping myself from moaning out-loud.

ooo i hate him.

“i-i was just finishing getting d-dressed-oh fuck…” i stopped myself as a loud moan came out, slightly making me pull on kylian’s shirt for him to slow down.

“you wanna cum?” kylian mouthed to me, tilting his head as his fingers sped up on my clit. his facial expressions had me wetter by the minute, he was close himself.

“y/n?? you there?” my finger pressed on mute as my phone fell on the floor. i was so focused on the pleasure i didn’t care who was on the phone at that moment.

“baby…” kylian moaned as his head was thrown back, i clenched around him again as i stared up at him, biting my lip.

“cum in me.” i dumbly requested as a load moan erupted from our lips as we both made our messes as hiba was on the other line, brainlessly calling my name.

pregnant…

kylian picked me up as we kissed sloppily, putting me down as i felt myself on wobbly legs.

“my legs hurt.” i whined as i limped to put my panties on.

“you should’ve listened.” kylian smirked before he slapped my ass harshly before walking upstairs to shower, reminding myself hiba was on the phone.

grabbing it as she was still on there, lord.

“are you ready yet? nasties!” hiba laughed as she heard all of that, lord im embarassed.

#football #football readers #football fluff #football fanfic #Football x reader #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe blurb #kylian mbappe oneshot #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe x black reader #blonde kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe smut #mbappe x you

[starker-raving-mads]

For you: Part V

This is the part I was waiting for. :)

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII | Part VIII | Part IX

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Peter hadn't slept a wink in two days.

"Baby, come on, you're scaring me here," Aunt May said, frown firmly on her face as she ran her hands through the teen's hair. Peter had been at their small dining table, coffee in hand, bags under his eyes, when May woke up, took one look at him, and realized his insomnia had kicked in again. "Is it the noises again?"

Peter often couldn't sleep because the city was too loud. Even louder now than it had been before, because there was so much more construction and angry shouting from people still trying to make space for themselves in a world that had been half empty a few months ago. That wasn't why he couldn't sleep this time, his mind too entrenched in Tony Stark missed you to shut down. He hummed in agreement to Aunt May, though. Let her think it's the sound, there's no way he could possibly explain the reality.

She pet his hair for another minute, soothing the both of them in the same ritualistic maternal way she always had, before she took his face in both her hands and made him look at her.

"You need to get some sleep," she said, tone firm. "And I know you can't just - turn off the Spider-Man thing," she huffed before he could protest. "But maybe - maybe you could sleep in the penthouse. I know it's quieter there than it is here." She sounded hesitant saying it, and Peter knew why.

Despite it having been months since the will reading and his life having been irrevocably changed, despite feeling comfortable with what was left of the Avengers and spending time in Tony's - his - lab, he hadn't set foot into the penthouse. It felt too raw. Too intimate. Too much.

"No, May, I'll be fine," he protested weakly. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, thankful it would be months yet before his first semester at Columbia started. He could get a hold of himself by then, right?

"Peter Parker," May's voice was sharp. "I will not have you getting yourself sick because of this. If you can't find a way to nap today, here, you're going to spend the night at the penthouse I don't care what you have to say, mister."

That was how, 12 hours later, he found himself at the elevator exit to the Stark Tower penthouse, bag of clothes in hand.

"Mother, would you like to come in?" Friday asked. Her tone was curious, not sure why Peter had just been standing inside the open elevator when the door to the Penthouse was right there. Humans were strange.

"I - yeah, sure, baby girl, sorry," he said, shaking his head.

If being in Mr. Stark's labs was enough to make his inner voice echo he missed you, he missed you, he missed you then being in his penthouse was enough for it to say you miss him right back. The living room was much the same as the last time he'd seen it, though a little sparser. Pictures of Tony and Pepper were now missing, the random pieces of artwork that had lined the walls were conspicuous in their absence, and the caddy that normally held his favorite, ultra-soft blanket he used during movie nights was gone.

He set his bag down on the sleek waterfall counter of the open kitchen and wandered the space, feeling Tony's absence like a discordant note in a song.

"Friday, what happened to - Mr. Stark's stuff?" he asked, not really sure how to phrase the question. There was a lot missing there, like the blankets, some of the pillows, even Mr. Stark's desk.

"Boss moved a lot of the items that were here out when he and Ms. Potts officially moved to the cabin," the AI said before continuing. "Then, after his death and the will reading, Ms. Potts sent movers up to retrieve last minute items."

He frowned.

"Lock everything down that belongs to me, that was Mr. Stark's," he asked. "I don't want anyone coming in or out without my express permission. I don't like the thought of her taking things that don't belong to her."

"Yes, Mother. If you would like, I can send a request through official channels to get any missing items back?"

He sighed. "No," he grumbled. "It's fine, I don't think anything serious was taken - she didn't grab any of the tech did she?"

"No, it was primarily artwork, sculptures, furniture, and other such items," Friday replied. "There were a few things, like blankets, books, and vinyl records she also retrieved. I am sorry if anything was taken that you had wished to remain, Mother." The intelligence sensed his slight distress and her tone had shifted to slightly sorrowful.

"It's fine, sweetheart," he sighed. "You didn't know and it wasn't anything too important."

He walked the rest of the penthouse, the floor very familiar to him. He had his own room here from crashing after too-late lab binges, and sometimes he and Tony would skip the lab all together for a 'day off' and watch movies, order pizza, and just relax. Not every hallway or room had memories, but enough did to the point that the reminders were becoming more of a dull ache than the sharp stabs he'd been expecting.

Walking down the hallway where the bedrooms were, he peered into his own. Officially it was a guest room, but it had been Peter's for long enough that a few of his clothes were stuffed into the drawers of the dresser, one of his favorite pillows was tossed onto the bed, and his old, half-broken laptop was on the desk. He smiled softly. His new laptop - still new to him, despite it having been months (years) in his possession - had come from Mr. Stark after he'd watched Peter fix his DIY one too many times.

"Here, kid," the older man had said, thunking down a sleek piece of silver tech in front of him. "I'm tired of watching you try to bring Frankenstein to life over here."

"You mean Frankenstein's Monster," Peter had replied, smiling up at the man playfully. Tony rolled his eyes and huffed a laugh before walking away. "Thank you, sir!"

"Yeah, yeah, just try to keep your Monster away from me." A wink, and he was on the other side of the room.

Stepping away from his room, he walked further down the hallway, to an area of the penthouse he'd never actually explored - Mr. Stark's bedroom. And, realistically, it was Mr. Stark's. He knew that Ms. Potts had infinitely preferred the brownstone that she was left in Manhattan to the sleek, open views of the penthouse. Peter didn't think he'd ever seen her around the apartment, and from what Mr. Stark said, she'd only stayed over in the early days of their relationship and hadn't spent time here after it became Avenger Tower, and then Stark Tower again.

Peter couldn't really bring himself to feel bad about being so happy over that fact, either when he learned it, or now, as he opened up Tony's bedroom and walked inside.

The room was low-lit, with most of the light coming from the entire wall of windows to one side, city lights gleaming in like stars. There was a patio with a hot tub just outside the barrier of the windows and the silent, faint muffle of city life beyond. This room, in particular, was quiet. Peter had to wonder if it was actually more soundproofed than the rest of the penthouse, or if it was just in his head.

The bed was made, all dark wood and metal platform with deep blue-gray sheets on top. The comforter was probably the softest thing he'd ever felt and god, the smell. It felt like Tony had just left the room, smell lingering across every surface - rich, spicy and musky. Something indulgent and instinctual made Peter toe off his shoes and, still fully dressed, get into the bed.

He covered his head with the blankets and laid in the silent dark, surrounded by Mr. Stark - his scent, his belongings, feeling like he was finally where he was meant to be. His throat closed up with emotions he barely willed away.

Uncovering his head again, he said to Friday, "Fri, turn out the lights and wake me up at 9?", before shimmying out of his jeans. He laid there for a long time before, at long last, sleep took him.

For the first time since he returned from the Blip - and to be honest, probably from before then too - he had no nightmares. No buildings crushing him, no existential pain of being disintegrated, no Mr. Stark covered in blood, light dying in his eyes.

Instead, he was surrounded in warmth and an amazing scent. His senses tingled in the best way, like everything was as it should be. Mind quiet, muscles finally losing their tension. It was perfect.

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Over the course of the next month, Peter split his time pretty evenly between his and May's apartment and Tony's penthouse. He loved May, and he didn't want to leave her alone after so long, but there was something that just felt right about being at the penthouse. She seemed to understand, and said that as long as he still came by to see her a few times a week and they talked on the phone every day that she wouldn't begrudge him the independence. It was a relief to her, he thought, to see him becoming more stable rather than wallowing in depression.

This was probably the biggest change, thus far, since becoming Tony's heir. That, the amount of messages Friday received bugging him for interviews with any and all media outlets, and working on Tony's 'Peter Project.'

A few days after stumbling on the billionaire's research into recreating organic intelligence, Peter decided to pick the project back up again. No matter that it made his heart squeeze almost painfully, he felt like he had to complete it. It was the man's last big effort and it felt wrong to leave it undone.

He'd spent most of his free time - when not with May, his friends, or patrolling - pouring over the data. He couldn't quite figure out why Mr. Stark had ceased his efforts as once Peter found the digital files for the project it looked as if the man had been practically finished.

Huffing out a frustrated breath, he asked, "Baby girl, I swear he made this difficult on purpose. Why did Mr. Stark stop looking into this?"

Could it simply have been that once it was within the man's grasp that it hurt too much to complete?

"Boss was unable to gather enough data that represented the you variable in the Peter Project to continue," she replied.

"What does that mean?" he asked, puzzled.

"The amount of information that needs to be analyzed simply was not enough," Friday explained. "The algorithm to extrapolate and recreate your personality, intelligence, and mannerisms needed approximately 130,000 hours of footage, metabolic data, and other such information before being able to provide a close approximation of what makes Peter, Peter."

The teen did the math in his head before his eyes widened. "15 years??"

"That is correct, Mother," there was that amusement laced within the AI's tone again. If Peter was right, it was happening more often. It made him proud to see his little AI start to grow up. "And since you are only 18 years old currently, this would have been an impossible task. Ideally, the 15 years worth of data would have been collected post-adolescence, as well, to cement what was Peter from what was Little Peter."

Peter hummed in understanding, leaning back into the couch. He crossed his arms behind his head and sat thinking for long, long moments as ideas formed in his head.

He sat upright as something occurred to him.

"Friday?" he asked, nerves making his voice waver.

"Yes, Mother?"

"How much data do you have on Mr. Stark? Like - " he gulped before continuing " - like the data needed for the Peter Project?"

She paused before saying, "As I have access to Jarvis's data as well as my own, I have approximately 144,540 hours of appropriate data."

His nerves tingled, every fiber of his being screaming at him - stop, go, do, don't. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. But - but it was a way to get Mr. Stark back. Some semblance of him. A fairly accurate representation, at least, right?

"What's the latest data that you have access to for Mr. Stark?" he asked instead of saying what he really, really shouldn't. He would stop here and now if it was pre-Blip. He couldn't bring a Tony back that didn't have those -

"The final files I have appropriate for this measure are concurrent with the fight against Thanos," Friday said helpfully. "Technically speaking, as well, if you allow me to access Karen's records I would be able to shore up my data with that which was obtained via her recordings."

His heart stopped. Then, it raced.

"Okay baby," he finally said, mind running a million miles an hour now, standing and rushing to his desk. His hands flew, opening new files and folders, copying data, working. "We're opening a new project and I want you to copy over all the data from the Peter Project to it, okay?"

"Yes, Mother." Friday paused, deliberating. "May I ask what this is in reference to?"

"Yeah," he said, mind already ten steps ahead. "We're going to bring Mr. Stark back. Name the new project 'Tony Only Needs You'."

TONY.

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark #iron man #peter parker #peter x tony #spiderman #peter parker/tony stark #for you fic

[portaltothevoid]

God Called In Sick Today — Chapters 1 & 2

Summary: It’s the ghafia fic you didn’t know you needed… When a mission goes south, Copia is left scrambling to figure out a plan to get the mayor-to-be in favor of the Emeritus family. That’s where Arianna Diodati, the Mafia Princess of his (very Catholic) rival, comes in. He plans to use her as a bargaining chip to get what he wants. Did he place the right bet or did he take more than he bargained for?

Word count: 5.8k ~//~ Warnings: mafia au, copia x oc, death/murder, gun usage, angst, physically and verbally abusive relationship, domestic violence (between oc x oc), (brief, almost subtle) dacryphilia, kidnapping, dark copia, cliffhanger, enemies to lovers, slow burn

A/N: Surprise! It's a double feature! Fair warning, the next chapters won’t be up til I have a few under my belt so that they can be posted regularly and since I’m still working on You’re Losing Me as well… it might be a while. But I am so so excited for this, that I had to give you all a taste! Massive, massive thank you to @fishwithtitz @da-rulah and @copias-juicebox for beta reading and listening to me talk about this non-stop as I worked out the plot 🖤(photos in mood board all found on pintrest and dividers by @gothdaddyissues!)

Chapter One -- The Sermon and The Plan

It was never a good sign when Papa Emeritus IV demanded a mandatory mass that wasn’t on Sunday. Usually, meetings such as this would be for the upper echelon of the clergy and the Ghouls, but this time around, every single member of the Satan’s Ministry was in attendance. No one dared speak or even look away from their Papa as he stood, eyeing everyone in the room like the disappointed father he was. 

Those in the front row could hear his leather gloves squeak against the oak of the pulpit as he gripped it like a stress ball. His unique set of eyes, one green and one white, focused on one specific Ghoul. His expression darkened like an approaching storm, which made for his already intimidating skull-painted face to become menacing. As for the Ghoul, if it weren’t for the silver-horned mask covering his face, even Papa would have seen the beads of sweat dripping down the sides of it. He knew he was the reason everyone was here and why Papa looked beyond furious. He knew it the moment he saw the blue and red flashing lights at the docks.

“As most of you know,” the Satanic pope began, “our latest operation was thwarted by carelessness. All of you deserve to know why, but first, it isn’t a true Mass without a sermon, hm?” 

He clasped his hands behind his back as he turned to walk to his right, addressing those in the pews in front of him. “Pride and greed. Two sins that often go hand in hand. Sins which we celebrate here. It seems I need to remind you all that the celebration of sin, any sin, does not give one a free pass to do whatever the fuck they want, eh?”

He turned again, to walk to the other side of the sanctuary. “Every coin has two sides. At what point does living in sin, celebrating sins, become a hindrance? 

“Pride. An excessive belief in one’s abilities. Pride can make one think they are untouchable. Pride is the sin that pushes us to achieve greatness not just in the name of Satan, but for ourselves. And there, we find greed. A desire for wealth, for gain. But, again I ask you all, when does celebrating these glorious sins become a hindrance?” 

Now, he was in front of the pulpit. Leaning against it was a cane, something he only brought out for show or to inflict pain. While he was addressing everyone, his dichromatic eyes landed on the trembling Ghoul in the center. “Excessive or grandiose sinning becomes a deterrent when it puts the lives of others at risk, when it puts an institution, a family, that you’ve devoted your life to at risk.” Grabbing the cobra head handle, Papa gracefully jumped down to walk in front of the first row. “Many of you are aware of a mission we set out on recently. A mission to save helpless women and children from a sex-trafficking ring. There also was to be an exchange of money. These degenerates were exchanging quite a large sum of money for this transaction. Those prisoners were denied the choice of freedom we offer here. We were denied what was to be used as payment to put the malleable Gregory Osorio in our corner. We have very little time to come up with this sum to get a powerful, up and coming politician in our corner. One who could turn votes in our favor. One who would look out for us. One who would defiantly oppose the Diodati dickheads.

“This mission was not successful. By the time our Ghouls arrived, the prisoners were ‘rescued’ by the police. The money – that should have been ours – confiscated. I know many have wondered how this could have happened. Well, children, the answer is simple.

“Pride… and greed…” he spoke slowly, as he walked down the center aisle, dragging his cane along the ends of the pews. “Someone felt too secure in themselves… Felt they could just… open their fucking mouth to anyone who would fucking listen… while not realizing… They were fraternizing with an informant for the enemy.” He paused his promenade. “This was not a simple mistake. This was blatant negligence from someone who I know, for a fact, knew better. This Ghoul broke our Sacramentum Secreti (Oath of Secrecy).” He began walking again. His cane hit a pew with every word. “Internal problems will be dealt with.”

He stopped. Everyone turned to look at Papa, except for one Ghoul. Papa reached over, using the tip of his cane to force him to look at his figurehead, his boss. With a look that could kill and a wave of his hand, he indicated the Ghoul to walk in front of him back up to the sanctuary.

After twenty paces, “Ghoul, you seem to be limping. I wonder why that is… Is it because your pain and suffering is a message from La Famiglia Diodati?” he remarked snidely. 

When Papa planted himself behind the pulpit, he pointed the cane to indicate a spot on the ground. “Kneel,” he commanded. On shaky legs, the Ghoul did as he was told.

Papa dragged his gaze up to the choir loft before him, where one of his best Ghouls was waiting for the signal. Painstakingly slow, he looked back at the insurrectionist. “Per aspera, ad inferi,” he prayed. Again, he made eye contact with the one in the choir loft, giving a solitary nod.

In the blink of an eye, the Ghoul to Papa’s right jolted back slightly, a red dot forming in the center of his forehead. As deep burgundy liquid dripped from it, the congregation gasped, and the Ghoul toppled forward onto his masked face with a deafening thud.  

Papa bowed his head, but his eyes passed over everyone clutching their rosary beads in front of him. Somehow, this look was more sinister than it was at the start. “Let it be known that internal problems will be dealt with,” he paused dramatically, “by whatever means necessary.”

And with that, he turned heel and left through the back door, concluding mass.

“Do we really need Osorio this time around? Putting our efforts into driving back the Diodatis would be more beneficial,” Secondo, the second oldest Emeritus, argued. The highest members of the clergy and of the Emeritus family were gathered in their meeting room reserved for familial “business” matters. 

A leather clad fist slammed on the dark cherry wood table. “And what the fuck do you think getting Osorio on our payroll would do?” Papa snapped. Secondo just rolled his eyes in response. “We’re running out of fucking time.”

“There’s that charity gala, or whatever the fuck, tomorrow. I could just use my lascivious charm to reel in Osorio,” Papa’s predecessor and brother, Terzo, waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Papa pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning back in his luxurious leather office chair. 

“Copia, he actually–and it pains me to admit this–might be onto something. That gala could be a way in,” the eldest Emeritus agreed as he pressed his elbows into the table, his fingers interlacing in front of him, as he stared down his youngest brother and the church’s current Papa. 

Terzo waved his hand and his smirk deepened with Primo proving his idea had some merit. 

“We have nothing to give Osorio! The whole point of that mission was to dangle that money in his face,” Copia countered. 

“So instead we ask him his price,” Terzo shrugged nonchalantly. 

“How many of Sal’s men will be there?”

“I believe just his right-hand, Alessio Fidanza and his fiancée and probably only a handful of his associates,” Primo relayed. 

Copia’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of the fiancée. “Isn’t that Sal’s daughter? The prim and proper Mafia princess?”

“Sì.”

“For what it’s worth, my advice as your consigliere would be to attend this gala for recon purposes only. Yes, our time is running out, but we still have time to sway Osorio.” For the first time an older woman, who everyone called Sister Imperator, spoke up. She had been keenly observing Copia’s every move, just as any mother would her son, carefully watching knowing he was especially volatile right now. 

“And Sal, what about him? He’ll be there too?” Copia asked, ignoring the woman beside him.

“As far as we know, yes.”

A wicked, devilish smile spread across Copia’s face, exaggerating the black paint reminiscent of a rat’s skull around his mouth. 

“No… Copia, what are you thinking?” Sister Imperator asked hesitantly. She knew that look. They all did.

“Oh we’ll get some information. We will find out Osorio’s price and we will get Diodati’s attention.”

“Elaborate, brother,” Secondo said wearily. They knew Copia had just hatched a plan and from the look on his face, it was going to be far from easy.

“Diodati thinks he has the upper hand, sì? We can kill two birds with one stone. Show him who has the power here and get the money from him to pay off Osorio so those Catholic fucks can’t use God as a basis for politics.”

“And how exactly… would we do that? Are we intercepting one of their shipments or–” Sister Imperator began to ask hesitantly until she was cut off.

“It’s simple,” Copia stated. He leaned back in his chair casually this time, his elbows perched on the chair’s arm rests. He waved his hands in front him as if he was presenting a physical idea. “We kidnap la Principessa di Dio.”

Chapter Two -- You Should Be Scared

The last thing Arianna Diodati wanted to do was attend some pompous charity event chained to her fiancé wearing a designer dress she hated and a fake smile. She thanked God that she didn’t have to endure the after parties; she could retreat to solitude and her husband-to-be could do whatever (and most likely whomever) he wanted there. Not knowing what happened at those parties used to ruminate in her mind like a catchy pop song… until she actually found out. 

The infidelity bothered her at first, caused her to lose sleep at night, and question her worth. She used to be confrontational. She used to stick up for herself. She used to care. Arianna learned the hard way that Alessio Fidanza never actually wanted her or truly loved her. Maybe at first he did, but as time marched on, she came to realize the only thing he cared about was having an in with the most illustrious mafia family in New York City. The closer he got to her, the closer he got to Arianna’s father aka the boss of the Diodati family, and the higher up in the ranks he rose, the less he paid her any attention – or respect. In less than a handful of years Alessio was promoted as Salvatore Diodati’s right hand man. He learned the ropes, got enough blood on his hands, and eventually helped call the shots. She was used to her father dictating her life, but now, finding herself under the thumb of another man? There were only two things she could do: watch her life pass her by from behind barred windows and pray to God someone would eventually notice (and care enough about) her imprisonment to save her.

Nevertheless, she admired herself in the mirror; for once, she wore a dress that made her feel confident. Her black cherry red curls cascaded around her face. For a moment, she could see a sparkle, or a glimmer of hope, returning in her hazel eyes as she noted how the asymmetrical dress framed her body perfectly. Satin jersey panels on the two thirds of the dress accentuated her curves as it snaked down the length of it. It draped up, slightly off one shoulder while the other was a simple strap clad with the subtle (yet signature) Versace Medusa emblem. That side of the dress was a simple satin. A slit allowed one of her toned legs to peek through adding an air of sexy sophistication to the look. She was almost smiling until she heard her fiancé behind her.

“You’re wearing that tonight?” And with that snide question, the sparkle in her eye dimmed once more, returning to their usual lackluster shine.

“Um, yes? I showed it to you, remember? You said it would be fine…” she said hesitantly, her voice dancing on eggshells, and her small smile fading.

Alessio scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Do you think I pay attention to half the stuff you show me? If I saw something like that, I would have remembered. Wear the other Versace dress. The one I had Roberta pick up for you.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Specifically for tonight,” he added, his tone proving he had little patience for her tonight.

“But what’s wrong with this one? It’s not like it’s–”

He sprung at her, his nostrils flaring as he gripped her arms tighter than a blood pressure cuff. She fought back the tears that pricked in her eyes. “You look like one of Satan’s whores. Now,” he spoke through gritted teeth, “put on the other dress.” He shoved her back, her arms flew out to find purchase on the dresser beside her so she wouldn’t fall. The few perfume bottles that toppled over made an almost deafening sound amongst the tension. Her breathing was ragged as she glared at him. His look back at her served as a warning. 

She never understood how someone who claimed to be so devoted to God could be so evil, but she had to trust God’s plan for her. This all had to serve a purpose, didn’t it?

Her eyes closed as she composed herself, doing her best to stuff down the ever-raging storm of anger that lately seemed to be constantly brewing inside her. “Yes, Alessio. It’s the one still in the garment bag?”

Slowly he rolled his head up to look at the ceiling, before bringing it back to glare at her. “Obviously, you dumb bitch. Hurry up and get fucking changed. I can’t afford to be late tonight because of you,” he spat as he walked out of their room. 

Once more, she took a deep shuddering breath, her whole body trembling on the exhale. Stepping out of her preferred dress, she left the almost four thousand dollar garment lying crumpled on the floor. 

Now as she looked at herself in the mirror again, she saw a stranger she didn’t even recognize despite the only thing that physically had changed was her dress. She noted how her eyes seemed more hollow. The color in her face had paled. There was nothing but a stranger who once had dreams and ambition staring back at her. None of this felt real. 

The worst part of it all was that under any other circumstances, she would have loved wearing this. It was a black viscose material. A slim-fitting, hooded crêpe dress with a plunging V-neckline that was much more revealing than her own choice, but this one had long sleeves and went down to her mid-calf. There was a criss-cross belt also adorned with Versace’s Medusa logo, only this one was more prominent than the one on her choice of dress. 

She let out a humorless laugh as she adjusted the long sleeves. All she wanted tonight was to feel confident, to show off some skin, because things had been relatively quiet as of late. Alessio was kept busy, his attention divided elsewhere. For the first time in a while, her arms didn’t look like an abstract painting. 

If she had been the one to pick out this dress, her sentiments towards it would have been different. She didn’t want to hide, but this was what Alessio wanted her to wear. There was no way around that unless she wanted to pay the price. Letting out a heavy sigh, she put the hood up. This dress felt like the most high end and lavish prison jumpsuit. No one would know how much it felt like she was wearing shackles, a stark reminder that her choices were never own. But at least tonight she wouldn’t have to come up with a lie to explain the fresh bruises on her arms.

A single tear slid down her face, which she quickly wiped away. With a shake of her head, she put her emotions under lock and key, tucking it away into a dark corner of her mind. She practiced her million dollar smile and nodded to herself, putting her shoulders back and her chest out –a mirage of confidence and happiness– and made her way to the Bentley that was waiting for her. 

No matter the formal event, the routine was almost always the same. Arianna would find her father, talk to and dance with who he (or Alessio) told her to, have two strong drinks (but no more than that or else she’d have to deal with a very irate Alessio), fake pleasantries with the other ladies who were just as much a prisoner to this life as she was, then once the crowd began thin, could she retreat. Tonight would be no different. At least, that's what she had assumed.

She greeted her father with a kiss on the cheek. “Arianna, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he father said, ushering over to a man that was just about six or seven years older than her. He looked just like everyone else here like he came from money and would stop at nothing to get more. “Greg, this is my daughter, Arianna. Arianna, this is Gregory Osorio, our soon to be Mayor.”

This Greg guy let out a low whistle as he looked Arianna up and down. “Sal, you weren’t kidding. She is absolutely stunning. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard so many things about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” she said with a smile that would never quite reach her eyes. 

“Oh, absolutely! Your dress looks like it was made for you. Ah, how do you say it… You look… bellissima!” 

“You’re too kind. Alessio convinced me to wear this tonight. I have to give all the credit to him,” she laughed, keeping up the ruse of niceties as Alessio dug his fingers into her side. It was his retaliation for the subtle jab she just made at him, even though these people would never ever know that it was. 

“Fidanza, you are a lucky man!” 

“I thank God everyday for her,” Alessio said, giving one more bruise-worthy squeeze on Arianna’s waist. He dropped his hand when everyone’s attention snapped towards the door. The group that had just arrived turned heads as they sauntered in. 

“Who invited those Emeritus fucks?” Sal snapped. 

“Copia put a call in himself to my office about a sizable donation for tonight. I figured if he's willing to be a top donor–perhaps even the top donor tonight–they might as well enjoy some of the festivities, no?” Osorio responded cautiously. “If you’ll excuse me, Sal…”

They exchanged nods as Gregory meandered through the crowd. Sal snapped his fingers. “I want eyes on them. They’re fucking up to something. Never once have they given a shit about things like this.”

“On it, boss,” one of his men said before he disappeared amongst the throng of people.  

Arianna never liked the Emeritus family. In fact, she borderline hated them with their menacingly painted faces and blasphemous way of life. She never quite understood how they rose to rival that of her family. Perhaps they really did make a deal with the devil.

“I’m going to grab a drink,” she said quietly. Alessio just waved her off, her father already in a passionate discussion regarding something she couldn’t care less about.

She made her way to the bar, getting the attention of one of the bartenders. “Your usual, Ms. Diodati?”

“Yes, please,” she smiled. 

It wasn’t long until she felt a pair of eyes on her from the other end of the bar. She looked up to see Copia, the ringleader of the Satanic circus, staring her down like a hunter watching its prey. It sent a shiver down her spine, but all he saw was the scowl that encapsulated her face. That only made him smirk at her.

She rolled her eyes in disgust, looking away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, though, when she knew his attention was back on someone that wasn’t her, she couldn’t help herself from taking in his appearance. She hated to admit, he looked… elegant. His burgundy pants were impossibly tight in all the right ways. It pained her to acknowledge the way they perfectly hugged his thighs. He had foregone his suit jacket, leaving just his matching burgundy vest and black dress shirt and tie. His sleeves were rolled up and she could see his muscles flex as he grabbed his drink.

Her eyes lingered for a few seconds too long. This time, he caught her watching him. His mouth curled up again into a sly half-smile as he took a drink. His dichromatic eyes never left her. The instant her drink hit the counter, she brought it to her lips and weaved her way through everyone back to Alessio in hopes of putting distance between her and whatever exchange had just taken place.

Shortly after she resumed her role as the token arm candy she was, did her father tense up when a leather clad hand slapped his shoulder. “Salvatore! Come stai (how are you)?”  

“Copia,” he greeted stiffly. “To what do we owe this… surprise?” The words rolled off his tongue as if they made his skin crawl. 

“Can’t a man just be willing to support a good cause such as this?”

Sal’s only response was to purse his lips. Copia was reveling in the fact that just his presence alone was getting under his enemy’s skin. “Say, Copia, did you hear about the girls that were rescued from trafficking by the docks the other day?” A condescending smirk now replaced the sour look on his face.

Copia’s eyes darkening was the only acknowledgement of Sal’s jab he let slip. “Ah, yes, thank the Gods below they’ve been transferred from one prison to another, being treated as criminals instead of victims.”

“Well, a whore contained is better than a whore on the street.”

Copia laughed sneeringly. “Ah, and I’m sure by whore, you mean a two-bit one. Tell me, though, what are the plans after this? Anyone escorting you to the after party?” he smirked as it was Sal’s turn for his expression to darken. 

Arianna didn’t realize she was watching this with bated breath, or that she was clinging to Alessio until he shook her off him. Copia's eyes immediately darted to Arianna’s fiancé breaking free of her almost death grip to take a step towards him. “You know, since you’re here, a thanks is in order,” Alessio said cunningly. “Those girls couldn’t have been saved without the helpful information one of your soldiers let slide right off his tongue. I’ve gotta say, that was a lucky group of girls.”

“Life’s just a game of luck, isn’t it?” Sal chimed in with a shrewd smile directed at Copia. 

“And I thank you as well, gentlemen, for helping me shed some dead weight.” The tenison grew thick as the flames of their rivalry were fanned with each remark. “But, a real man makes his own luck.” He casted a quick astute glance with an accompanying nod to Sal before he turned to directly face Arianna. “Perdonami,” he murmured gently, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Arianna, e come stai stasera, principessa (and how are you tonight, princess)?” 

Her heart thumped wildly against her sternum and her eyes flashed nervously over to Alessio. She knew somehow this man’s unprompted actions would be her fault. Both men noted immediately how her body stiffened. One was amused by her fear while the other felt a pang of pity. “Bene, grazie (good, thank you),” she piped up meekly. 

“Would it be alright if I stole la bella donna (the beautiful woman) for just one dance?” he asked the two men beside him, only taking his eyes off Arianna for a mere second.

Giving Alessio a slap on the back, “She’s practically yours now, son. That’s your call to make,” her father laughed as he walked off towards the bar.

Arianna widened her eyes, begging Alessio to say no. Rolling his lips between his teeth as he pondered his decision quickly. He nodded, another sly smile curling the edges of his mouth. “One song wouldn’t hurt, eh? Careful though, she’s a pistol. Hope you can handle her. Lord knows some days I barely can.”

Copia laughed dryly. “I think someone of my stature knows how to handle one of those quite well,” he challenged, ushering Arianna away quickly.

Alessio reached out and grabbed her by the arm, just like he had earlier, turning her towards him. She inhaled sharply through gritted teeth at the pain as he had constricted her already tender bruises. “I’ll be waiting by the bar for you,” he hummed as his eyes flicked back and forth between Arianna and her new dance partner, before they lingered on her. She knew that look on his face. It was another warning. Without a sound, he let go of her, and followed the path of her father.

Copia’s arm snaked around her waist. He made it a point to do it gingerly, but that did nothing to calm her rattling nerves. “You’re trembling, cara,” he noted quietly, turning to face her, placing a hand on her hip on the same spot Alessio’s fingers left painful imprints. Her eyes fluttered shut when she involuntarily shied away from him. He eyed her curiously as he switched hands, placing one on her opposite hip and taking her hand in his other. She never quite understood the random ballroom dancing that happened at some of these parties.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

A sinister laugh quietly bubbled from him as he leaned to whisper in her ear, “You really should be.”

“And why’s that?” she challenged as they stepped in time together. Unsure of how, or why, but she could feel some of her old fire ignite inside her. 

“Now, now, if I answered that it would ruin the surprise.”

She spoke in a way so her lips didn’t move, but Copia could understand her muffled words perfectly: “My father has eyes on you, you know.” This came off as more of a warning of caution than a threat. 

“I’d expect nothing less from him. The real question is, does he have eyes on you?”

“I highly doubt it. I’ve proven to him I’ve learned from my rebellious ways,” she scoffed.

“Oh?”

“The consequences aren’t worth the… It serves no purpose anymore.”

After a few beats of silence, Copia asked, “Why do you let them treat you like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like they own you.”

For the first time since their dance began, she looked directly into his two-toned irises. Her breath hitched. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone, never mind a practical stranger, had even acknowledged her feelings or that she might have any at all. Her life wasn’t her own; it was already planned out. She could picture her life with Alessio as if she already lived. It’s mostly the reason she had become a shell, a carbon copy of herself. She felt like she was standing on the edge of a tall cliffside with no one to pull her back and no one who noticed, or even cared… So why was her father’s sworn enemy acting as if he did? And why in God’s name did it make her stomach flip and her heart flutter? “Because they do,” she finally managed to say through barely parted lips.

As the song ended, Copia regarded her with a smug, yet sympathetic look. He stepped towards her, pressing his body against hers, bringing his forehead down to hers. Standing there frozen, there was nothing she was able to do except stare into the most intriguing pair of eyes she’d ever seen. “Il mio agnellino (my little lamb)…” he purred. A devilish smile creeped onto his face. “I’ll see you soon.” 

He abruptly left her standing there like a deer in headlights with her heart hammering in chest, and disappeared into the crowd. She sucked in a deep, ragged breath as she looked around checking to see if there were any witnesses to what just happened. 

That man was evil. She knew this. He was ruthless. He worshiped the devil. He was the enemy.

And yet, what terrified her the most wasn’t his veiled threats, but her reaction to them. There was an allure to him, an air of mystique. Someone heard her faint cries for freedom… She shook it off and went to find Alessio, fearing what he would do if she waited any longer.

Arianna caught his eye as she walked up to him leaning against the bar, alone. He knocked back the remainder of his drink and forcefully grabbed her wrist, dragging her out to a deserted hallway. Not a single person batted an eyelash as they rushed past. 

Once he assumed they were completely by themselves, he forced her up against the wall. Her back stinging in protest as the coolness of the concrete seeped into her skin. Unbeknownst to the nowhere-near-happy couple, Copia and his ghouls were waiting in a nearby room. Every part of his plan was falling in place like dominos. 

“Alessio wh–” Arianna started to question, but was cut off by Alessio slamming his fist on the wall right next to her head.

While he now had her caged in, he pointed a finger in her face. “What the fuck was that about? You fucking wanted to dance with that vermin?”

She stared at him in horror. Even though she knew he would pull this card, it never made it easier any time it happened. “What are you talking about?! Did you miss the look I gave you? I wanted nothing to do with him! I wanted you to say the ‘no’ that I couldn’t!”

“You wanted–” he scoffed. “You wanted me to say no? Since when do I make your decisions for you?”

“Only every fucking day of my life!” she spat back at him, seething. Though he embodies sin and everything unholy, when Copia switched the hands on her hips, when he noted her fear… Those actions, so subtle, spoke volumes. She was reminded of what it means when a person has compassion, empathy, and even a trace of humanity inside them. If she ever experienced that with Alessio it had long be wiped from her memory, overridden by every terrible thing he had done to her and put her through.

The rage that erupted from him, the hatred that bled from his eyes, haunted her nightmares. Instantly after the words left her mouth, her whole body tensed. When the blow from his hand landed across her face, she didn’t even have time to react before he gripped her arms again, somehow even harder than the two previous times.

“You think you can just go dance with another man without looking like one of the devil’s whores? Maybe I should have let you wear that dress, since here you are, being one instead of just looking like one.” He shook her as he berated her. 

“Alessio, please, you’re hurting me,” she whimpered, tears streaming down her face as her fiancé screamed at her. His voice drowned out from the thumping music and the raucous party-goers in the other room.

“You little fucking cunt, if it wasn’t for your father I would have left your pathetic ass years ago,” he snarled through his teeth just before he tossed her to the ground like a rag doll. “Get the fuck home. I don’t want to deal with this right now. And you better think of a good way to make this up to me…” he warned before he cracked his neck, fixed his shirt cuffs, and sauntered back into the party. 

Quietly, she sobbed into the tile floor. Her body was alight in a flame of pain. “Please, God. Please help me. I can’t… I just can’t…”

A hand gently touched her shoulder. She recoiled, flinching, and pressed herself into the wall behind her.

“Oh, Principessa,” Copia tutted. He crouched down in front of her and used his thumb to wipe away her tears. She watched as he brought his hand closer to inspect how they glistened on his leather glove. His eyes bored into hers as he brought his thumb to his mouth, nearly sensually cleaning off her agonized tears with his tongue. Fear coursed through her harder than the adrenaline did when she spoke back to Alessio. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that God called in sick today,” he leaned in closer, hovering over her forebodingly, “and he sent me to handle your prayers,” he cooed disparagingly. 

He stepped back from her, offering to help her up. She stared at his hand, her eyes wide with panic. When he waved it to snap her out of her trance, she scrambled to her feet. Automatically fearing supposed repercussions. 

“How much… how much of that did you hear?” she whispered.

“All of it.” With a snap of his fingers two ghouls appeared, seemingly out of nowhere from Arianna’s perspective, and grabbed her arms. Their grip firm, but it wasn’t lost on her how they somehow managed to avoid touching where Alessio had hurt her. 

“Wh-what are you doing? Let me go. Let go of me!” she cried out, feebly attempting to wriggle from the ghouls’ grasps. 

Copia stepped forward, taking her face in his hands. His thumbs stroked her cheeks. With his face inches from hers, that diabolical smile reappeared. “I’m sorry about that too, but I can’t allow that. You see, il mio agnellino, you won’t be going home tonight.” He snaked his hands down from her face and along her neck before he leaned in so close to her, his breath tickled her ear. The way his lips moved against her skin sent shivers down her spine. “I told you. You should be scared of me.”

As he backed away from her, a third ghoul put a cloth over her mouth. Her screams were muffled as she tried to thrash and escape from her captors. Soon, her movements slowed and her vision blurred. The last thing she remembered seeing was that haunting pair of eyes, one green and one white, watching her with a smirk that rivaled that of the devil’s, before something covered her head and plunged her into darkness as her body went limp.

Next Chapter || taglist: @gorie-talks-a-lot @haelithra @love-is-all-you-need-13 @lydzlore @megachaoticstupid @onlyhereforghost  @state-of-longing @werich @whenparadiseislost 

#the band ghost #the band ghost mafia au #mafia au #copia #mob boss!copia #mob boss copia #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus 4 #papa copia #copia x oc #papa emeritus iv x oc #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost bc #ghost bc fanfic #copia angst

[iluvshinytwink]

Fainting

Scenario: While preparing dinner, you accidentally cut your finger deeply. Blood gushes out and your vision starts blurring, and with a blink of an eye you've fainted. Jude comes in the kitchen after hearing a harsh thump and immediately tries to nurse you.

(ive fainted cause of fresh wounds and today i almost fainted because i cut myself on a grater so like why not turn my pain into gain 🙄🙄)

Everything was normal, Jude came home with a smile knowing he'd be with you. Jude enters the kitchen and requests a dish and you happily prepared it. In the matter of minutes his worst nightmare came true.

"Hi, babe!" Jude peaks into the kitchen with a smile. "Hi, Jude!" You broke eye contact with the cutting board and turned to your boyfriend with a smile. Jude walks behind you and pecks your cheek. You chuckle. "What can I make you, hon?" You asked with a smile. Jude's wrapped his arms around you and swayed you softly.

As Jude went to take a bath you continued to prepare dinner.

A few minutes pass, you break eye contact with the cutting board and looked up to see the time, instinctively your hands continue guiding the knife in your hand.

Suddenly, with a harsh chop, pain coursed through your veins. You felt your heart drop as the pain continued to flow into your body. You slowly looked down and blood gushed, it was everywhere and beneath all the blood your finger's flesh was separated.

"I'm done bathing!" You heard your boyfriend call from upstairs, you were lucky you heard coherently. As you stared at it, your vision started blurring and your head started to spin. You stared at the wound as the blood continued and started staining the other ingredients seen on the cutting board. Seconds pass and you feel your vision slowly disappearing and your head rapidly spun. "Babe?" Your boyfriend called out and the last thing you heard was the soft steps descending down the stairs. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you felt your body losing its balance and with that, you fell with a harsh thump.

Jude hears an object, a knife perhaps clinking on the counter following a loud thump coming from the kitchen. Concerned and worried Jude rushes to the kitchen. His eyes scan the room before looking on the floor. There, his lover's body fell and her finger laid, bleeding. "Y/n!" Jude shouted, running to your body. Jude quickly puts your body against his as he examined your finger and then to your face. "Babe?" Jude shakes your body, he puts his ear near your chest and to his relief you were still breathing.

Jude quickly gets up and stumbles to find paper towels to stop the bleeding. His eyebrows furrowed and the overall expression seen on his face was confused, worried, sick and everything in between. He started repeating your name and every nickname he's called you. He wraps the toilet paper around your finger and his fingers tightened its grip on the towel. "Y/n! Wake up!" Your boyfriend yelled. He felt his breath hitch as he contemplated rushing to his phone to dial help. He looked at the door, still applying pressure to your wound.

Slowly, you open your eyes. Your vision was still blurry and your head was spinning. "J.." you managed to whisper. Jude's head whipped to meet your eyes. Your eyes weakly meet his. Jude felt a relieving smile appear on his face and a sigh escape his lips. "You okay?" He managed to ask. You looked around, eyes seemingly asking "where am I?" You slowly sat up, head gradually stopping its spinning.

At that moment, Jude was so scared. He felt his heart drop and his entire world stopped in a matter of seconds. Emotions overwhelmed him, worry, sadness, relief, happiness and a tint of regret. He felt his vision blur due to the tears welling his eyes and he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

He wrapped his arms around you, letting out a shaky sigh. Shocked yet filled with joy, you returned the hug.

"You scared me, so much." The male whispered. "I scared myself too." You chuckled.

(i may or may not have gone overboard with the description but that's what i felt when it first happened to me 😞 anyways thank u for 69 followers!!!! (HAHAHA FUNNI NUMBER) I'm so happy ur all delulu like me!! MAKE SURE TO SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON AND SUBSCRIBE FOR MORE BANGERS LIKE THESE!!)

#jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #imsoslaying #iluvshinytwink #jude bellingham imagines

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

Lol how do i explain this chain of events...

there's no way i can make it brief xD So..today i was in an odd mood, feeling so sensitive that any time someone talked to me i almost flinch from how overwhelming it is. And a certain heaviness. sunday is slimbo's only day off tho so i wanted to hang out. We decided to draw, and as we were finishing setting up i suddenly remembered my stereo & how i havent used it all winter. i grabbed it from my room n put it on slimbo's bedroom floor , i was sitting next to it as we focused on drawing for a few hours n listened to CDs.

then as we were about to eat dinner slimbo suggested we watch sopranos. i was reluctant due to my mood today, and ok hear me out: Something about sopranos has like, consistently felt really psychic to me, cus i dont watch it that often but every time i do it's like. that episode will be freakishly synchronized w something happening in my life at that moment. usually in a metaphorical way. Could just be power of suggestion but ive never rly had that with a show before except for a few animes.

ANYWAYS..i agreed to watch it because i felt it to be fateful that slimbo suggested it. like Ok what message is this supposed to send me today, might as well see since i'm already in this strange mood. We sat on the ground where i was drawing and started watching. and ofc, (spoiler warning,) ofc the last ep we watched was the one where junior shoots tony, so this episode is the one where tony's dying in hospital (and having his prolonged dream sequence). Which, if you know me, you maybe know about my Core Wound, but if you dont, well, it definitely involves hospitals and death and fathers. So i'm just sitting there watching like LMAO 🙂 Ok Guess this is what's on tonight's agenda Let's Gooooo 🙂

and i can see slimbo keeps looking at me with an expression like "we can turn it off" but i was like nah im going to watch this im curious now. (i havent seen season 6 of sopranos in 6 years and its the season i have the least memory of because when i watched it i was high as fuck on opiates due to getting my appendix removed (awful experience) so it kinda feels like my first time seeing it). i keep watching and THEN. THE WEIRDEST SHIT OF MY LIFE OCCURED

the fucking scene. Where carmela's in the hospital room with tony and she receives a stereo from chris. she takes it out of the box and i'm like wait....it's only showing the back of it at first, but it looks so familiar, i look over to my right where my stereo is coincidentally sitting on the floor next to me with the back facing me. it's the same. then i see her open the cd slot. ITS THE EXACT SAME FUCKING STEREO SAME color SAME model SAME Everything !!!! and the part that freaked me out most is that my stereo is always just sitting on top of my tv i almost never move it even when i use it but at that moment it just happened to be sitting there on the floor RIGHT FUCKING NEXT TO ME !!!

idk. it gave me kind of an adrenaline rush. it freaked me out. like that is bizarre i dont know. especially with the context of the stereo in the show and how it's there in the hospital to play music for tony as he's basically dying. hospital scenes r always like, intense for me on a cellular level. but that just kinda blew my mind. i got this stereo from a thrift store 2 years ago i had no idea it was in the show lol. IDK. i feel like there's a message here. something to do with my dad and healing and music. See im telling you like.....sopranos makes me consistently feel that God is joking around w me, its ususlly just a feeling but today it was tangible. so.... o_o

#timing

[fairykazu]

art museum ft. albedo, ganyu & keqing ⊹ ࣪ ˖

cws: established relationship: ganyu, mutual pining: albedo, one sided pining: keqing, fluff, slight jealousy, dates, reader is implied to be feminine; reader can be taken as gn!

notes: i wanted to write for kazuha but i couldn't think of ideas for him :'(

mlist | based on headcanons

ALBEDO

he wanted to take you somewhere you can see his feelings for you

since you both share the love for the arts, he decided to show you his exhibit of his recent or oldest works

he didnt expect you to share the same feelings as him

it was your first time being at an art museum or at least being accompanied with someone. well, actually, it wasn’t really an art museum when really, its more like an art exhibit. albedo’s art exhibit.

even though, he is the host, he was walking around with you linked to his arm. “albedo? what’s this piece about?”

you pointed to a painting that were more abstract than the others. albedo’s fair complexion reddens a little, “it’s about me experiencing love for the first time.”

“really?” you said, tilting your head. he looked at the expression on your face, your face twisted into jealousy.no matter how you tried, albedo can read you just as easily as a book. “i envy that girl you loved to make that.” you tried to laugh it off but in your eyes, you didn’t find the joke to be funny.

albedo chuckled, which his laugh snapped your attention to him, peeling your eyes off of the piece. “what?”

“this piece was influenced by my love for you.”

“wait what?”

albedo watched how you experienced the stages of grief within ten minutes.

“OH.”

he laughed again as you tangled your fingers in his flax hair. “do you get it?”

“yesyes!”

GANYU

you two had been waiting for ganyu to have a day off to plan another date

usually your planned dates dont go so well so you try to make a spontaneous one and pray it works

surprisingly it does

as you two were already on a date, however when you saw an art museum, you knew you had to take your girlfriend there. today was unfortunately the only day ganyu had time off from work but you were ready to switch gears and make this date the best of all.

“yu! lets go here.” you said, pointing to an art museum. ganyu tilted her head, squinting at the sign.

“the… enchanted canvas?” she fiddled with the ends of her dress.

you confirmed, “yes!” glancing at her face, you reassured her, “i know what youre thinking but dont worry about the costs! i got you,”

you showed her your wallet, packed jammed with money. too much money but she cant stop you from buying for her or not allowing her to pay.

“okay!” the both of you entered, seeing the rows of pieces around the walls. the glass cases of different arts from all over the world.

due to the different aesthetics you both have, naturally, you both separated. you came across a painting that was blue, actually, different variations of blue. the artist used golden accents to highlight the plant they chose to use in the painting. hydrangeas. these colors and especially the flower reminds you of ganyu.

“yuyu!” you said, hoping she caught your voice. behind you, you heard familiar clacks of heels. “hm?”

“this painting reminds me of you.” you pointed to the large canvas framed in gold. ganyu chuckled, “thank you, sweetheart. ive seen one that reminds me of you too.”

“yu, do you think i can buy this for you?”

“name, with both of our savings combined, i dont think we can buy this.” she joked, but really was trying to convince you not to buy the painting.

“hmm.”

“do you want to see the painting or…”

you changed your mind, or seemed to. “yes, lets go see it!”

KEQING

keqing had been admiring you for far too long and realized that the feelings she thought was platonic were actually romantic

on todays hang out you both have topics to share

“keqing, where do you wanna go for today’s daily debrief?” you asked. the both of you met up at a local cafe and usually on every friday, you both talk about whats happening in your life. but keqing noticed that you have been flaking every other friday making her concerned for you, which is why she called a debrief on a thursday instead. “let’s go to the art museum. the one reel you sent on instagram.”

“oooh! ive been wanting to go to the glided gallery.” you replied in excitement. keqing nodded as she pulled out her phone,

“its a 5 minute walk from here. lets go.”

- - -

you and the purple haired girl walked into the museum. seeing how every other person was dressed, you felt embarrassed because of how underdressed you felt.

“‘qing dont i look like underdressed?” you asked, feeling the regret seeped into your bones. keqing seemed like she brushed it aside but really, she was thinking really hard on what to say to you. “no. you look gorgeous.”

“oh! thank you. so what did you want to talk about keqing?”

keqing winced, she had forgotten the reason why she invited you in the first place. other than asking you why you flaked out, she likes you. as in, likes-likes you.

“i was going to ask why did you flake out on the last meeting, n/n.”

“oh!” you said, flustered a little. “thats because ive been talking to this guy-”

a guy? again? hasnt enough guys broke your heart

“and hes really sweet. i think you know him actually! xiao?”

oh. nevermind, this guy would never break your heart.

“ohh, hes loyal.”

“isnt he?!”

“um, lets go pver here.”

unluckily, keqing thought. this section shows the romantic side of artists. “oh okay, wait, keqing, was there more you wanted to tell me? i can tell on your face.”

keqing’s heart and brain fought between confessing to you and not telling you. its a cycle she goes through, laying on her bed to everyday thought. she was going to confess but after hearing you have another boyfriend. she decided against it, bringing this secret to the death bed.

“oh. no, i just wanted to show you how this painting is really cute.”

“youre right, it is.” you were mesmerized by the painting hung on the wall, you couldnt see that keqing was just as enchanted just by looking at you.

#genshin impact x you #astronetwrk #albedo x y/n #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x you #albedo genshin impact #ganyu x reader #ganyu #genshin ganyu #keqing x reader #keqing #kazuha x you #kaedahara kazuha #female reader #gender neutral reader #genshin x you

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 5: THE FLEA AND THE ACROBAT

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: I picture Eddie not being able to express himself through his words so he uses song lyrics. In my head he always had a strong connection to music because of his mother (this was before I read FOI). Finally an Erica/Diana scene! What do y'all think of Steve and Diana?

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 2440

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

SINCLAIR RESIDENCE 

It’s mid-afternoon when we arrive back home from the funeral. Dad stops the car in front of our house to let Mom, Erica and I out before he drives over to the Wheeler’s house to drop Lucas off to hang out with the boys. I follow behind Mom and Erica thinking about what to wear later today for when Nancy and I meet up with Jonathan. I bump into Erica, who frowns at me for stepping on her, and I immediately apologize for not watching where I was going. I look ahead wondering why we stopped when Mom picks up a bouquet of wildflowers and a note laying in front the door. 

“Candy Girl? Who’s Candy Girl?” 

Erica grunts in annoyance as I push pass her to snatch the flowers and note from Mom. Sure, enough the note said Candy Girl. My face burns and I bite my lip trying my best to hide my smile. Mom’s brows shoot up in surprise at my hastiness and I smile sheepishly at her, apologizing for my behaviour. Her gaze sweeps over me. 

“Hm.” She grunts, pursing her lips and guides Erica in front of me to not get trampled on again. 

As soon as I step inside the house, I take off my jacket and heels, pushing my sunglasses over my head and rush upstairs to my room. My heart is hammering against my ribcage as I close the door behind me. I admire the array of blue, purple, pink, and white wildflowers tied together with a piece of string. Some petals of the flowers are flat and squished but I think they’re pretty nonetheless. Taking a deep breath, I put the bouquet on my dresser to give my full attention to the note. My hands are practically shaking as I open it.

If the sky that we look upon, should tumble and fall.

Or the mountains should crumble to the sea. 

I won’t cry, I won’t cry. No, I won’t shed a tear 

Just as long as you stand by me. – Ben E. King 

I reread the words three times before flopping down on my bed. A smile lingers on my lips at the gesture. Will’s funeral is of public knowledge, shaking up the entire town. I haven’t seen or spoken to Eddie since we had lunch together two days ago and I know he wouldn’t attend the funeral because despite it being of public knowledge, it was still an intimate event, but I never thought he would do this. Something so simple and thoughtful for me. This doesn’t help my case with Mom and I’m sure this raised more suspicion about Eddie, but I can’t stop smiling. I wonder if I should write a note back. What would I say? How will I even give it to him? We don’t have school tomorrow and I don’t know where he lived to even thank him for being so kind. My thoughts are so scrambled I have to force myself back to earth and the task at hand. 

I hide the note in my desk drawer and change into more comfortable clothing settling on a pair of jeans, t-shirt and zip up sweater. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and fixed my bangs in the mirror satisfied with my appearance. Back at the wake, Nancy, Jonathan and I agreed to meet at 5pm and it was now, 2:00pm. Nancy would be here in fifteen minutes and I needed to find a weapon. I can’t go out in the woods to find a wild animal without one. Even though Jonathan had a gun, I’m not sure if he knows how to use it. 

I open my door and sneak across the hall to Lucas’s room. Surely, he wouldn’t mind if I borrowed his wrist-rocket for a few hours. I try to be as discreet as I can going through his drawers, closet, even checking under his pillow and I can’t find anything, not even his headband. I frown, pursing my lips in thought. Where could he have put it? Then it hit me. Under his bed. I drop to my knees pushing my arm under his bed to feel for anything. All I find are dirty socks and comic books. I blow my bangs away from my face to get a better look and—

“What are you doing?” 

I jump hitting my shoulder against the top of the bedframe. “Ow!” I whimper, holding my arm in pain, praying I don’t develop a bruise. I stand up feeling my lower back seize. Erica is standing on the other side of the bed arching her brow in suspicion. I ignore the pain in my arm, feigning nonchalance. 

“I’m just cleaning, Lucas’s room.” 

Erica frowns. “His room is always clean.” 

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to be cleaner now does it?” 

Erica shrugs, not caring about my poor excuse for why I’m in Lucas’s room even though I know she doesn’t believe me. She’s always been a skeptic. Her first word was “no”. She lingers, tilting her head to the side, toying with a loose thread on the duvet. 

“Who sent you the flowers?” 

“A friend of mine.” I respond simply, though my heart picks up speed. Erica smiles slowly and now I feel uneasy. It’s one of the many different smiles she has. This one isn’t as…devious. That smile is only reserved for Lucas. No, this smile is like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. 

“An admirer.” It’s not a question. 

“A friend, Erica.” I repeat, albeit tense. 

Erica lies down on the bed, holding her chin with her hands. Any other moment she would’ve looked cute in her bubbles and pigtails, but again, this smile held a hint of mischief. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” 

I shift from side to side. “No…” I squint. “What makes you say that?” 

Tired of the innocent act, Erica’s smile vanishes. “No boy just leaves a bouquet of flowers on your front step with a note unless its an admirer or a boyfriend.” 

“That’s not true.” I disagree, sitting on the bed. 

Erica gives me a pointed look, pursing her lips just like Mom. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” 

My body grows tense under her fierce stare. There are times I wonder if I’m related to Erica. Our personalities are so different. Erica is outspoken and bulldozes her way through life while I’m quiet, awkward and shy.  

“I—” I start, then close my mouth. I have no experience with boys to even know where to start about relationships. 

“Exactly.” Erica confirms, kicking her feet. The conspicuous grin returns as she continues. “You have a boyfriend.” 

“No, I don’t.” I reply quickly. My face is burning. 

“Well, you sure were eager to take the bouquet of flowers and note away from Mom. You nearly knocked me into the bushes to get it which means…” she wiggles her eyebrows. 

“Erica.” I plead. I do not want to talk to my little sister about boys, especially Eddie. I don’t know what to think when it comes to him. I just know how I feel and I was definitely not going to try to explain to an intrusive eight-year-old girl like my sister, plus Nancy will be here soon and I needed to get Erica away so I can leave without another interrogation. Erica sighs, rolling her eyes and sits up tucking her knees under her.  

“I won’t tell Mom or Dad if you have a boyfriend,” she says, leaning forward putting her hands on my shoulders. “By the looks of it, Mom is already suspicious of you, but she won’t say anything unless you bring it up. Your just lucky Dad had to drive Lucas to the Wheelers because if he saw those flowers and note on the doorstep,” Erica eyes widen slightly. “He’d lock you in your room forever and hunt all over town for this boy.” Erica isn’t wrong. Dad is extremely protective. It’s why I’m glad Mom hasn’t told him about Steve’s house. 

I stand up, combing my fingers through my thick hair in its ponytail. “You don’t have to tell Mom and Dad anything, okay. Eddie is just a friend.” Any close friend of Eddie’s is a close friend of mine. That’s what Ronnie said. Erica lights up. 

“Eddie, huh?” She grins, satisfied that she at least got a name. 

 “I don’t have an admirer or a boyfriend.” 

Erica ignores the sharpness in my voice. “But you like him.” I glare at her, a warning to stop pushing. “Fine,” she sighs, rolling her eyes again. She rolls off the bed strolling to the door. “I’ll leave you alone to clean.” There’s a cheeky little grin on her face as she lingers and it tells me all I needed to know. Erica isn’t going to drop this. She found something new and shiny to play with and will until she gets bored. 

“Candy Girl.” 

My jaw drops. Erica runs to her room, closing the door behind her before I can gather up my thoughts. 

Oddly enough, I didn’t find anything in Lucas’s room which is why I am scrounging around Dad’s tools in the garage. Screwdriver? No. Wrench. Maybe. I pull out a rubber mallet from one of the toolboxes. It’s thick and has a bit of weight to it. It’s no gun but it’s the best I can do right now. I take a few steps back and practice swings trying to get a feel of the weapon. Part of me cannot believe I’m doing this right now; risk going into the forest to find some animal I have never seen before nor, understand to find Barb and Will. I lift the mallet way over my head not calculating my strength because I lose my balance stumbling back on my feet. 

“Whoa! What the—” I drop the mallet and the person behind me yelps. I’m ready to bolt into my house when I hear my name. I whip around, my heart beating a mile a minute. There he was, hair and all his glory standing in front of me. He’s the last person I’d expect to be at my house. The last time I’ve seen him was in the parking lot at school confronting Jonathan about the photos in front of Tommy H and Carol ending with smashing his camera on the ground. 

“Steve?” 

“Hi,” he waves, sheepishly. 

I blink, shaking my head. “How do you know where I live?” 

Steve stiffens at the question. “Uh,” he stammers, combing his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t—I don’t,” he corrects, clearing his throat. I raise my eyebrows expectantly eying the pink in his cheeks. Was Steve “The Hair” Harrington blushing? “I was driving to Nancy’s and saw you and just…” he takes a deep breath. “Wanted to say hi.” 

I squint. “To me?” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles dryly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Why wouldn’t I?” Because we’re not friends. I want to say. When I don't respond Steve swallows, rubbing his lips together. "I actually wanted to...apologize."

I pick up the mallet holding it over my shoulder. “For?” His gaze flickers to the mallet then me and I rub my lips together trying to hide my smile. He deserves to squirm a little. Now he knows how it feels when his friends make me feel uncomfortable. 

“Being an asshole.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’m sure Nancy told you about our last conversation,” Steve continues, looking down at his New Balance sneakers. “And you both deserve an apology for the way I acted.” 

I blinked in confusion for a moment and then remembered when Nancy came into my room to show me the photos and I mentioned what Steve thought about everything. A momentary look of discomfort crosses Steve’s face when he finally looks at me. Part of me believes the apology wasn’t only for his talk with Nancy or about Barb, but for the way he handled things in the parking lot. I remember the look of sorrow in his eyes before he stormed away. I meant it when I told Jonathan I don’t think Steve needed to break his camera but it was justified. Steve’s privacy was invaded too. What I picked up on that day in the parking lot is that Steve isn’t this aggressive, mean, bully like Tommy H and Carol are. It’s not in him to be that kind of person and it pained him to break Jonathan’s camera. He knows I noticed his shift in demeanour. I oddly notice a lot about Steve. His contradictions, his mannerisms. What he doesn’t do.  Steve tilts his head waiting for a response. 

“Um…” My brows twitch. “Apology accepted.” I say softly, taking a step back. Steve doesn’t respond and I don’t think anything of it. Thank you seems awkward to say right now. 

“Um,” he scratches his nose. “Have you heard from Barb?”  

“No, the police think she ran away, but I know that’s not true. Barb wouldn’t do that.” Steve nods his head shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“I haven’t known Barb for long, but she definitely doesn’t seem like the type to do that.” Another comment that doesn’t need much of a response. 

I fiddle with the mallet letting the awkwardness settle in. Surprisingly it’s not from me, but Steve. Steve, the most popular boy in school who exudes such confidence walking down the hallway, who turns every head without trying…is being awkward. It’s hard to wrap my head around it. Steve takes a step towards me but decides against it. I tilt my head, wondering what was going on in his head. Maybe he’s having a mental breakdown. 

“I heard about the funeral. I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“Thank you,” I answer, taken aback by his sincerity. “He was my little brother’s best friend.” 

“Give your little brother a hug for me.” He winced, regretting his words. I smile. Steve laughs and combs his fingers through his hair. His face is bright red now. “I’ll uh, leave you to…” he gestures to the mallet. “Whatever you’re doing.” I nod my head, grinning. “Bye.” He says, waving awkwardly. I wave back amused by his mannerisms. 

I watch Steve walk out my garage his brown hair flopping lusciously through the wind. “Steve?” I call out. He turns around startled. “Thank you.” I see his gaze soften, instantly knowing I’m thanking him for apologizing and he smiles nodding his head before walking to his car. When Steve drives down the street towards Nancy’s I swing the mallet again chuckling softly to myself. 

“What a dork.”

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

#stranger things rewrite #black fem reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #dianasinclair #eddie munson x black!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #sinclair!reader #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part IV

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. There is a brief mention of reader being injured.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III

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

“Dr. Ieiri?” you called in a singsong voice.

The door was open, and you were half inside the infirmary, but you still knocked.

Shoko was standing with her back to the door, reading a file. She did not turn to face you, but asked “How’s your shoulder, [name]?”

Two days ago, you had been hurt during a mission. A curse had slashed your upper arm and you had taken quite a strong hit to your shoulder. The mission had been successful, though. The curse was exorcised, and you were technically still in one piece, but the wound had looked pretty nasty. You assured Ijichi that it did not hurt as bad as it looked, but Gojo escorted you to Dr. Shoko when you were back at the school, saying "We can't have your arm falling off, can we?"

Ieiri had healed it almost completely, but today was checkup day.

“It’s alright.” You sat on one of the empty beds and Shoko closed the file she had been reading.

She moved away to wash her hands while you removed your jacket and placed it next to you. Then you asked her about her weekend.

“I didn’t do much really. My neighbors got a new dog, though.” She had stepped closer, gloves now covering her hands and a mask on her face as she expertly removed the bandages off your arm.

“Oh, is it cute?” You looked into her tired eyes.

“I haven’t seen it, but it’s a dog for sure. It did not stop barking since Saturday evening.” Shoko’s attention remained on your arm.

You heard her vent about the dog and how a medical emergency had interrupted her weekend activities, and then she had asked about you.

She was wrapping fresh bandages around your arm when your next words slipped mindlessly “…I went there because Ikeda said the tea was on another level, but maybe I just haven’t tried enough kinds to tell the difference between that and the one I buy at the market.”

“Ikeda?” Shoko was securing the wraps on your arm but directed a brief questioning look at you. Then it hit you: you had not told her you had ran into him and exchanged contacts. Things really had been busy lately.

Your eyes widened. “I forgot to tell you...”

“Tell me what?”

“Remember Ikeda Haruki?” No reaction. “Tall, brown hair, hazel eyes?” You could tell no bells were ringing for Shoko.

You sighed. “Cute-coffee-shop-waiter-guy we met in high school? He served our table like a hundred times.…” You said that last part in a lower tone and Shoko’s eyes shone with realization, but you could not see her complete expression because she was still wearing the mask.

“Cute-coffee-shop-waiter-guy? That Ikeda?” You nodded, but she did not stop there. “The tea-obsessed Ikeda?” Nod. “The anime fan Ikeda?” Nod. Nod. “The Gojo-wants-to-kick-his-butt Ikeda?”

“Huh…” You frowned a little at that. “It’s odd you remember him for that, but yeah... I guess that would be him.” You put your jacket back on. “We ran into each other a few weeks ago. He is back in Tokyo.”

Weeks...

“And you are talking again…” Shoko said thoughtfully.

You nodded slowly. “We are… I mean, it’s not like we were ever on bad terms.”

A question popped up in Ieiri’s mind: does Gojo know? She doubted it. You may have forgotten to tell her, but as transparent as you were, it would not surprise her if you had decided to keep it from him. After all, if your friendship with Gojo was the Titanic, Ikeda Haruki had almost been your iceberg.

The way Ieiri saw it, it had begun innocently enough, but the half-friendship-half-puppy-love that started blooming between you and Ikeda at the end of that summer, many summers ago, had opened for a second the Pandora’s box of Gojo's messy feelings, and doom had almost engulfed you all.

Fortunately, the box had been closed when Ikeda moved away.

Gojo had told her and Suguru once “He should have moved to a different time zone, but I guess out of Tokyo is good enough.” And that was the last time she ever heard him say anything about Haruki.

“So, I’m good to go?” You were gesturing to your shoulder.

Shoko nodded. “You can stop wearing the bandages in two more days. I don’t think it’ll leave a scar.”

You thanked her and walked to the door. “[name]?” Ieiri called, and you expected her to instruct you to take painkillers if your shoulder was still sore or something like that, but that was not what she said.

“Tell Ikeda I say hi.” Had she not been wearing a mask, you would have seen the amused smile on her face.

I will not be the one to rock the boat, Shoko thought, but Gojo Satoru, you have had enough time to man up.

***

“Would you stop?” You slapped away the finger Gojo had been poking your cheek with.

Your computer had broken, and he had told you to come to his place and use his, but you had not been expecting him to just stay there watching you work all afternoon.

Gojo sighed dramatically and returned to the couch across the room. “You are not fun. Why do you work on the weekend anyway?”

It was your turn to sigh. “I have to finish a report I could not hand in to Yaga during the week,” you replied while still typing.

“Boring.” You rolled your eyes at that and continued working.

Your fingers pressing the keyboard was all that could be heard for a few minutes. Your eyes left the screen to look at Gojo. He had put away his phone and was leafing through a magazine he had picked form the center table.

Gojo was quick to feel your gaze on him. “If my beauty is too distracting, I can leave, you know?” he said turning the page of his magazine.

“Sorry to stare. I was just too surprised at the fact that you can read. Or are you just looking at the pictures?” He lifted his head and you both smiled when your eyes met.

“Coming to my home, using my stuff, sitting at my desk, and insulting me on top of that.” Gojo was speaking calmly, almost as if his words were not directed to you. “The audacity of it all...” He left the magazine aside to stand up and walk back next to where you were sitting.

“In my defense,” your focus returned to the screen in front of you, “you are the one who refused to let me take your computer home with me. So, if I am here, it’s your fault.”

“Is it now?” Before you knew it, he was leaning over your shoulder to peek at what you had been working on.

“I just finished…” You turned your head to look at him at the same time he had turned to look at your face, ending up with you two almost nose to nose.

He was wearing his sunglasses, so you saw your own eyes widen slightly when his blue ones showed over his frames.

Growing up with him, you were used to seeing Gojo up close, but lately, a weird feeling had been growing in your heart. Still, neither of you moved.

“Hey, do you know what personal space is?” you said softly.

A smile formed in his lips and you did your best no to look at it.

“Of course I do.” And he bumped your nose with his before straightening up and walking away, leaving you a bit too shocked at first.

“If you are done, we can eat out, right? Or should we order something?” He was looking at you.

“Yeah… Let’s eat out.” It took you a second, but you had recovered your composure. “Just let me save this.” You saved your report and turned off the computer.

It's all dark.

You opened your eyes and looked at the clock on your nightstand. 4:32 am.

It had been a dream… Well, not exactly. It had been a memory. That had happened some time before you confessed your feelings to Gojo, when you were already presenting the symptoms of having a crush on your best friend. Dreams and memories involving him would mix during your sleep in the months leading to your confession.

As if seeing him almost every day was not enough.

Sometimes, your mind would replay the memories the same way they had happened, like the one you had just had. Some other times, it would be a dream about you and him, ranging from the most romantic to the most bizarre scenarios, including some actual nightmares, like that one in which you had died and cursed him?

That idea is not too bizarre if you are a sorcerer, though.

It had been one of the reasons why you had decided to come clean about your feelings. Perhaps the dreams about Gojo were powered by your guilty subconscious feasting on the emotions you were trying to hide. If you stopped hiding, the dreams would also stop, right?

But you had been only kind of right. While the weirder dreams had ceased almost entirely, every once in a while, you still woke up with a memory of Satoru, sometimes, one you did not even know had been stored in your mind.

Is replaying memories a way of grieving what cannot be?

You sighed and looked at the clock again. 4:34 am.

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

Note: No notes from me today, just love. Thank you for reading!

Next: Part V

@mavs-stuff

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