#totally not naming any names with the last part

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the jjk men coming back home to their lovely housewife after a rough day at work <3

tags. satoru, suguru, toji, sukuna x housewife!female reader (separately). fluff, mostly smut. size difference for all of em. manhandling here n there. p in v -> unprotected. crēampies. brēēding themes. half asleep when writing this—apologies for any grammar errors

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔. dry humping, cūmshot, reader gets called ‘angel, baby’.

“mmmh.. ya smell like cookies,” satoru sighs as he hugs you from behind, lightly swaying your bodies back and forth in a romantic dance. you had jazz playing in the background while you were baking some cookies, completely relaxing in the comfort of your home.

you got somewhat startled when satoru first appeared behind you, his arms sneaking around your waist. you scolded him—though were quickly soothed back into a loving mood when he kissed your neck and enveloped you in his embrace.

satoru can’t help but to let his urges take over. having his pretty little wife in his arms in that apron he bought, is doing unspeakable things to his body. his hands roam all over your torso until they stop to fondle your breasts.

“no no,” your husband swirls his tongue around your ear as his hands squeeze your chest from underneath your shirt. “continue what you’re doing, angel. let your hubby do what he needs to do, ‘kay?”

you’re used to the usual routine by now; satoru coming home, spoiling you with either gifts, food or his affection before relieving his stress on you. satoru never leaves you sexually frustrated—ever.

“kay,” you nod and just continue to work on the batter for your next batch of chocolate chip cookies. it’s difficult to concentrate when satoru’s warm breath sends shivers down your spine. his tongue slithers from your ear to your neck, unapologetically leaving hickeys. he always makes sure to give you them. you’re his and he needs to keep reminding you of that fact.

“fuck, baby,” satoru’s breath hitches once he feels your hips jolt back against his groin. his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples was all it took for you to get worked up. you whimper his name under your breath—body squirming in his arms.

satoru bites your earlobe gently, his own hips not able to stay still for another second. he rolls his lower body against yours from behind until you can feel the imprint of his hardening erection pressing against your ass. you grind back against him, to which satoru responds by tweaking your swollen nipples, “such a naughty fuckin’ wife i have.”

your husband is on the edge of just cumming into his pants without any shame. he’s done so before when in your presence—the dry humping always gets to him. it’s a weakness of his that he isn’t good at hiding. he rubs his huge bulge right between your sweet and plump asscheeks, getting off from the feeling.

“gonna make me cum in my pants,” satoru whines and his slender fingers dig into the fat of your breasts even more. he’s needy for you, for every part of you. the fact that you’re sweet enough to accept what he gives you is driving him to the brink of insanity. he tries to stop himself, though to no avail, “shit— don’t wanna— need to cum inside of y—”

a string of whimpers leave satoru’s mouth and his hips spasms against your ass, pressing you against the kitchen counter as he gives one last thrust forward. “my god,” satoru breathes against your nape, his throat dry as he imagines that it’s your warm cunt swallowing every drop of his cum instead of his boxers.

you turn your head to look at satoru behind you. “are you okay, hubby?” you ask through soft breaths. the white-haired man shivers at your smooth voice which makes him press the bulge in his pants against your behind even tighter. you can feel a certain wetness starting to form on the front of your lover’s pants.

“yeah, totally fine,” satoru breathes out, trying to stay cool, calm and collected. he’s trying his best not to ravage you right now. he’s throbbing—blood flowing into his cock again already. you’re the only one who could trigger such sensual reactions from him.

satoru pats your ass a couple times, letting his wet tip rub against your folds through his pants;

“just wish i could’ve bred y’r cunt instead. fuck—can i? need to pump my pretty girl full before i go insane.”

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔. on the table top lol, reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’

suguru always makes a beeline towards you after he gets home. it’s tough being a cult leader—having to ��treat’ people who come begging him for help. having to exorcise those curses that haunt those incompetent buffoons.

all of it is exhausting to the sorcerer. and what better way is there than to find solace in the presence of his stay at home wife?

“sweetheart,” suguru shows you that handsome smile of his the moment he steps into the living room, “need some help?” his eyes dart down at you on your knees, manually scrubbing a spot underneath the couch that was hard to reach. his gaze is focused on the arch of your back, how your ass sticks up as you complain about you’re inability to reach that spot in the corner.

“no, ‘tis fine,” you sigh and give up. you sit up straight on your knees and finally look at suguru. you didn’t expect him to stand so close to you in under a second, his hands reaching for you the moment he comes into your vision.

before you know it, you’re stripped from your shorts and panties. your back is on top of the nearest dining table and suguru’s standing right between your spread legs. he reveals his stiff cock after unzipping his pants and gives it a good few pumps as he looks you up and down, “i’ll fuck the frustration out of you, yeah? don’t you worry, darling.”

a win-win situation; suguru gets to take care of his needs and you get to forget about your exhaustion from all the household chores. your back arches off the surface and your eyes widen the second you feel his dick invade your tight pussy.

“mmh, yeah— that’s it,” suguru grunts, not able to take off his eyes from your wet folds as his cock disappears between them with each thrust. he starts off slow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, “you’re doing so well. you deserve this and so much more.” you appreciate the little things your husband does to make sure you stay comfortable throughout the entire process.

“suguruu,” you moan out his name, to which he responds with a short hum. your nails dig into his muscular back with every move—each time his tip taps that sweet spot deep inside of you. suguru kisses the inside of your upper arm before moving up to place a peck on your forehead.

“mhm, such a good little wife,” he sighs in content and fails to contain those noises of pleasure. you catch the faint grunts and moans that leave his lips between heavy breaths. suguru’s completely blessed to have you be his forever lover, “thank you for taking care of the house today as well.”

your stomach fills with butterflies because of his smooth tone. suguru’s calm yet hoarse voice ringing in your ears makes you want to burst already. the long-haired man punctuates his thrusts with pecks on your cheeks—kissing you after each slow yet harsh hip thrust.

your teary eyes meet his and you’re completely mesmerised by the way he looks at you. your husband is careful about the way he treats you, especially during intimate moments where you’re the most vulnerable.

though at the end of the day, he’s also but a man. seeing his gorgeous wife underneath him as he’s drilling into her will make him lose it. no doubt. all suguru wishes to do is to make that belly of yours expand with his love—his cum;

“hold onto me, sweetheart. i’m going to go a bit harder on you today, is that okay? yeah? good girl, take it for me.”

𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈; mating press, reader gets called ‘doll, wife, ma.’

assassin work is not for the weak. you know it, toji knows it. he always comes back home late at night. sometimes he doesn’t return home for days on end. you’re constantly living in fear that your husband may never return. even as toji reassures you that he will, every day.

“were ya worried again, doll?” toji asks as he tries to console you. you had been crying, he could guess by the dried tears on your cheeks. it’s around three in the morning and he had returned from yet another mission. only to find you still up.

“you promised you’ll stop doing such dangerous work,” you hiccup, trying your best not to cry again. toji sighs and turns your face so he could look you in the eye. he can’t help the tingle of excitement that runs down his spine—you’re adorable when you’re upset, “i did, didn’t i?” toji nods as his callused hand runs up and down your side.

he feels guilty every single night. he’s going to quit his job for your sake, though first, he has to save up some money that would last you a couple months. toji hates seeing you in distress about him and thus always tries to distract you.

by pleasuring you until you’re unable to think about nothing but him.

“i’ll make it up to ya,” toji grunts the moment he has your legs up in the air, your body nearly folded in half underneath his bigger one. he loves this position solely because he can see every change in your facial expressions. “c’mon, wife,” the dark-haired man mumbles, his eyes glued to your bouncy breasts and pouty lips, “told ya not to worry too much ‘bout me, yeah?”

you nod, knowing you should trust your husband. he’s never once broken his promises of coming back home to you. so, you simply let go and moan his name repeatedly as his tip kisses the deepest parts of your insides. “i—i trust you,” your tongue rolls out due to how well toji’s pounding you into the mattress.

toji grins at the sight. just a couple thrusts and you’re gone—completely cockdrunk without a worry in sight. he lets out a moan at the way you’re holding onto him so desperately, like you don’t want him to go. “fuck, keep that up ‘n i’m gonna knock you up, ma,” toji hisses. he can’t keep himself from cumming right inside of your cunt if it keeps on squeezing him.

you can’t even respond due to his thrusts knocking the wind out of your lungs. you can only babble about how deep he is and how you’d love to carry his kid. toji’s on cloud nine as he hears you confess your desires to get impregnated by none other than him;

“mmh, don’tcha worry, ‘m g’nna make you a momma soon enough. that way y’ won’t be lonely no more when i’m gone. gonna give you a kid so that you’ll always have a piece of me around—heh.”

𝐒. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍; heian era. degradation. cunnilingus. reader gets called ‘woman, brat,’

all you can do when sukuna isn’t around, is bore yourself to death. you hang out with your lady-in-waiting or with the cats walking around the estate. sometimes you go visit markets or other beautiful places right outside of the area, but that’s all there is to it.

though, when sukuna returns from his duties, you’re always happily welcoming him back. you’re the first one to greet him and lead him to a place of relaxation. that place being your shared bedroom. sukuna’s hungry eyes that are focusing on the way your clothes fit around your curves tell you more than enough.

“where ‘s my dinner, woman?” the king of curses’ deep baritone nearly makes you shake. you watch as he sits back against the headboard of the bed, his expression stoic yet amused. you know he doesn’t mean real food—he means you.

you’re his dinner.

you take the hint and slowly undress yourself, a strip tease to make sukuna excited about what’s to come. however there are more consequences to teasing him, as he isn’t a person known for his patience.

“stop wriggling,” sukuna scoffs against your wet cunt not a minute later. your clothes are ripped off your body and your legs are wrapped around his head. you can’t stay still when sukuna’s tongue is quite literally devouring you.

you moan out his name loudly, just the way he likes it. sukuna grins against your wet folds, letting the tip of his tongue roll up and down your slit while his thick finger lazily stimulates your clitoris. “got a fuckin’ brat as a wife,” sukuna delivers a harsh slap against your sensitive cunt after cupping it with one big hand, “stay still, i said.”

you squeal at the rough contact. you attempt to listen to your husband, but your body doesn’t allow it. your sticky thighs keep shaking and your hips keep jerking upwards against his mouth. his wet tongue slobbering all over your pussy is a clear sign of just how much sukuna looks forward to coming home—to watch you beg for mercy when he goes too far.

“delicious,” sukuna pants as he dives deeper into your folds, burying his entire face against your cunt. he sniffs your scent and simultaneously enjoys the taste of your wet juices. you’re all he needs after a frustrating day of taking care of duties back to back.

one of his hands brushes against your lower abdomen to keep you pinned to the bed. you grab the wrist of that hand and hold onto it for support. sukuna groans at the sight of you trying so hard to not cum on spot from his actions.

he speeds up the movements of his tongue and his big hand squeezes your tummy a little in the meantime;

“i think i’ll go for a second round of dessert after this one, ey? what’d ya think? wanna let everyone know that you, your cunt and your whole body is all mine—so i’ll probably fuck ye so good y’re gonna be heard all ‘round the estate.”

#sttoru writes. #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #toji smut #sukuna smut #gojo x reader #toji x reader #sukuna x reader #geto x reader

[balletfilmss]

COULD YOU MAKE IT ANY MORE OBVIOUS?

✸ pairing: rockstar!percy jackson x ballerina! reader

✸ synopsis: you and percy jackson are absolutely, totally, by no means dating … as far as the public knows

✸ warnings: none!

✸ notes: THIS WAS THE CUTEST IDEA EVER, I LOVE IT SM!!! i’m down to do more parts if anyone wants… 👀 requested! also, pls understand the reference in the title 🙏

exhausting was the only word for it, your life. and as of lately, there was so much going on that you could barely see straight.

your ballet company had always had long hours, but now that the performance that you were not only in, but the star of, was quickly approaching, it was chaos in sparkles and pointe shoes.

wake up, rehearse, workout, rehearse, meetings, rehearse, costume fittings, rehearse, sleep, repeat.

you had just finished up with your final rehearsal for the night when your manager called you into an impromptu meeting and shoved a screen in your face.

eyes blurry from lack of sleep, it had taken a moment for you to see the image clearly, but when you did, your heart dropped all the way down to your sore feet.

a screenshot from a news article in some random pop culture tabloid with your name plastered across the caption along with another you knew: percy jackson.

international rockstar and lead singer of the sensational boy band, greek symphony, percy jackson was all the talk in gossip magazines and blogs, a modern-day heartthrobs for girls to go crazy over.

he was a troublemaker at best, holding the worst record yet best reputation among his band mates. he was dangerous, mischievous, and so undeniably hot. and therefore, so totally off limits.

in the world of shoebiz, the two of you fell on opposite sides of the spectrum. you were a peaceful black swan, whereas he was the thunderous wave that disturbed your peaceful gliding across the water’s surface, sending your world into a frenzy by a mere touch.

but as off limits and unlikely of an idea as he was, he also happened to be confined to the same home city as you in new york. could they really blame you if you said things just … happened?

“what is this?” you asked, looking dead at a photo that you knew was definitely you.

apparently, you and your clandestine lover hadn’t been as careful as you usually were and a photo had been captured by a rouge paparazzi.

luckily, it was dark and showed none of your face and about half of his side profile, and therefore, easy to play off as a mistake.

“according to the article, it’s you scurrying about with the rockstar percy jackson,” your manager told you, a sour look on her face.

“percy jackson? are you kidding me?” you gasped, lips twisted in a disgusted frown. “i’ve never even met that guy, much less been scurrying around the city with him!”

two lies in one sentence, you were on a roll.

“well, according to just about every celebrity news outlet right now, you’re his latest victim,” said the head of your pr team, piper. “and this picture is their proof.”

“that’s not me!” you argued. it was you.

you could pinpoint exactly when and where that photo was taken, actually. it had been last week, when you and percy had to sneak out the back of his apartment to avoid his bandmate, leo valdez, seeing you all piled up in percy’s arms while watching pride and prejudice.

apparently, paparazzis liked lurking around the backend of apartment complexes.

“yn.” said piper, giving you a pointed look. “are you sure?”

“i think i know what i look like, pipes,” you scoffed. “he may be running around with some girl, but it’s not me. please, make sure everybody knows that.”

at your words, your team got started on damage control, while you snatched up your things and headed home to your apartment, right where the very boy you’d just convinced everyone that you had never met was waiting for you.

you dropped your dance bag to the floor the second the door to your home closed, exhaling a deep breath as the anxieties and physical abuse of the day hit you all at once.

as you leaned against the closed door and blew a tuft of hair from your eyes, the familiar face of your boyfriend rounded the corner.

“there she is!” he grinned, wielding a spatula as he threw his arms out dramatically. “dinner’s almost ready. how’s my favorite girl?”

“exhausted,” you sighed with a smile. “sorry for being so late, something came up.”

“ah, don’t worry about it,” he told you. “i put the spare key back, by the way.”

you already knew that, of course. he put it back where it belonged every time he used it, but never failed to let you know.

six months you’d been doing this— sneaking around behind the backs of your friends and the media, falling further in love with someone you weren’t even supposed to be acquainted with inside the private four walls of each of your apartments and secret meeting spots.

you followed him into your little quaint kitchen, where he went to flipping a final pancake on the stovetop.

“looks good, honey,” you smiled tiredly. “but—“

“oh no, no buts,” he whined.

“but,” you insisted. “we have an issue. someone snagged a picture of us last week and today it was published. my team’s already working on getting it down, but it’s done some damage.”

you pulled out your phone and showed him a picture of the article as he turned the heat off on the stove. he took a moment to squint and it and evaluate before saying,

“okay, that’s not as bad as i expected. jase called about an hour ago and told me all about it, but he said he denied that it was me to mr. d.”

thank the heavens above for jason grace (the bassist in percy’s band and member who had a better head on his shoulders than the other three of them combined).

“i dunno perce, it’s a pretty good shot of you,” you told him.

“i think all shots of me are pretty good ones, if i do say so myself.” he smirked, closing the already small gap between the two of you as he leaned a hand against the counter on either side of you, trapping you in.

“i bet you do, rockstar,” you replied, looking up at him through tired lids and half-smudged mascara. “I remember it being a pretty good view, personally. except for leo screaming his head off inside.”

percy chuckled, his breath fanning across your cheek. “the price we pay for privacy.”

“apparently not private enough,” you sighed, the headline of the article seared into your mind. gosh, you could already see yourself getting dragged on twitter. “oh, what’re we gonna do if people do find us out?”

percy could see the creases between your brows and the doubt swimming through your irises, a light, almost unnoticeable path of lilac underneath your eyes. you were worried and tired, and he couldn’t be having any of that.

“i don’t think it’d be so bad,” he shrugged, his hands closing in to rest on your hips. “i mean, i know both our bosses would be out for blood, but it’d be worth it for people to know i have you.”

“you want people to know you have me?” you asked, a small, trace of a smile creeping up on the corners of your lips.

“do i want people to know i have a beautiful, smart, sweetheart ballerina for a girlfriend? hell yeah, i do.” he answered. “eventually, y’know.”

your smile appeared now, reaching up to your eyes and hiding away the tiredness in them. percy loved that smile.

“how soon do you think eventually is?” you asked, draping your arms over his shoulders as his face leaned closer to yours.

“as soon as you want it to be, pretty girl,” he answered. he then leaned all the way in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss that melted away all the tension in your muscles as he pulled you in close.

when he leaned away, you chased his lips and landed another peck to the corner of his mouth and then another to his nose, just for good measure.

“now,” he smiled. “let’s forget about the stupid public for a little while and eat, yeah?”

#୨୧ love letters #୨୧ sealed with a kiss! #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson oneshot #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x fem!reader #pjo x you #pjo x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom

[yoonivy]

gold rush; part 1.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, eventual smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?

warnings. aegon + viserys + ramsay being besties. oc is a bit cringe but at least she is free :’) !!

word count. 8k+

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

---

The days are growing chillier. The leaves on the trees are still a brilliant array of reds, oranges, and yellows; but they are starting to fall on the ground, baring the branches for the upcoming winter season. 

This means that the weekly outdoor picnic at the University’s quad that you and your friends always make time for is probably going to end soon, so Sansa Stark insists for one more before the inevitable happens. 

“Winter is Coming,” Sansa states with a heavy sigh and a shiver after you all helped her lay out the pastel gingham blanket on the ground that you are all sitting on now. 

Meera Reed makes a face at her, snorting in disbelief. “Did you just quote your family’s motto at us? Really Sansa?”

Sansa glares her way while she starts to take the lunch she had prepared out of her favorite wicker picnic basket. She huffs before insisting, “Well it is. Winter is coming .”

“Oh, it already is coming,” Margaery Tyrell smirks, already pouring out the pre-made mimosas into four mugs. “It came plenty last night…”

“Marg!” 

“What?” Margaery pouts at Sansa’s outcry of her name, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying… Stark men have quite a set of heavy b—“

“No, no,” Meera is the one to cut her off now, her palm held up to stop Margaery from finishing. “I need my appetite to eat these delicious katsu sandwiches!”

Meanwhile, Sansa is ruffling up Margaery’s perfect blowout, ordering the brunette to stop saying disgusting things about her brother, Robb, in front of her.

As you watch them, you laugh with your mouth around the rim of your mug, the taste of alcoholic, bubbly orange juice sweet on your tongue. Your friends are all ridiculous, but you love them. And perhaps, you are just as ridiculous as them. “Sansa… Is your Uncle Benjen visiting any time soon?”

“I don’t know…” Sansa eyes you suspiciously. “Why…? ”

“Cause…” There’s already a stupid smirk lifting your lips that Sansa takes a deep inhale to prepare herself. “I wanna test out Marg’s theory about Stark men and their heavy—“

You are tackled onto your back by the fiery redhead; and luckily for the both of you, you had already drunk all the mimosa in your mug before she did so. You are laughing and shrieking as Sansa shakes you by the  shoulders playfully, with Meera hollering in the back and Margaery exclaiming, “Yes! That’s my girl! Daddy Benjen is so fit!”

It must have been a strange sight to see. Four women in their early twenties having a picnic in the middle of autumn, all screaming and all toppled on top of each other on the quad of the Seven Kingdom’s most prestigious post-secondary school, Vale University. 

No one would dare approach that mess — unless they are brave. 

Or stupid. 

When a dark shadow casts over you and your friends, and someone clears their throat noisily, that is when you all pause mid-laughter to glance up at the newcomer. 

Your eyes widen comically when you are faced with gorgeously long platinum silver hair; the tiniest waist made with an expensive belted black cotton trench coat; a striking violet eye; and the most disgruntled expression you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Of course all that was none other than Aemond Targaryen. 

So in conclusion — brave and stupid. 

All four of you quickly straightened up in embarrassment but his eye was solely on you. 

“Can I talk to you?” Aemond asks, head cocking to a tree nearby. 

Dumbfounded, you nod slowly and stand up just as slow. But while you are in the process of doing so, he is already walking away. Shrugging at the confused looks of your friends, you jog after him. 

In all honesty, you have no freaking idea why he is pulling you aside either.

When the two of you make it beside the willow tree, he turns towards you. The sourness in his face doesn’t change, and you wonder why he is even talking to you because he clearly doesn’t want to be. 

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total .

So why now?

That is when the panic start to rise in your chest, because there is only one reason he would even sought you out —

“Aemond, is your fath—“

“Are you going to the party—“

You both stop abruptly after speaking over the other. 

Now you are thoroughly confused. 

With your head tilting to the side, you repeat the little you heard him say, “The party?”

At the dumb look on your face, the tips of his ears start burning red. Aemond grimaces, then glares to the side as he answers, “Yeah, the Tyrell party tomorrow night. Are you invited?”

Your brows draw even closer together, staring at Aemond like he grew another head. “I mean, yeah… Margaery is one of my best friends…” Aemond then grunts in remembrance at the girl he just saw you with not even 5 seconds ago. He is still not even looking at you, so you pull at your sweater paws from the feeling of discomfort. “I’m not going though.”

Finally, his eye is on you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “I’m not really in a partying mood… Besides, all my friends have people they’re interested in that are going so I’m probably going to be the weird seventh wheel…”

What in the Seven Hells?!

You make a face at your own oversharing. Why did you just confess your loser status to Aemond Targaryen of all people? Why would he even care—

“Then come with me.”

Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh?!?!

When you realize you exclaimed that out loud and not just in your head, you slap a hand over your mouth. 

His scowl makes you explain yourself in a hurry, “Sorry! It’s just we’ve never really hung out before or, like, even had a conversation until this one, so I’m a bit… confused?”

Aemond presses his pink pout together, inhaling sharply. Then he stares at you in a way that pins you to the spot, your breath catching. “You’re right…” he frowns as he trails off. “We’ve known each other for so long and yet we’ve never made an effort to become friends—“

You’ve never made an effort, I’ve at least tried, you wanted to say, but you bite your tongue and let him keep going. 

“So I’d like to take you to the party to change that. Ramsay’s band is playing so it should be a… fun night.”

He says all that in the aloof yet cocksure air of his but you’re convinced that he is not even convinced himself. 

Because why would being in any 10-feet vicinity close to Ramsay Bolton be any fun? Also he said he’d “like” to take you to the party and yet he looks like he is being held at gunpoint to talk to you. 

Someone is definitely putting him up to this. 

To put Aemond out of his misery (and to satisfy the sniper surely aiming at his head) you say, “I’ll, um… think about it then?”

Aemond hums as an answer; sounding not quite satisfied but letting it be. 

And you thought that would be it. Like he’ll be like well, I tried! — shrugs shoulders and flippantly throws his hands up — oh well! but just as you say your soft goodbye and begin to walk away, Aemond calls your name. 

Wait a second — he knows your name???

You balk, once again staring at him wide-eyed. This time he ignores the look, or at least doesn’t react to it outwardly, and says, “You have my number, right?”

I literally didn’t even know you even knew my name, you almost answer, but instead you went with a simple, “No.”

He lets out a discontented hmm… like somehow that was your fault. He then fishes his phone out of his pocket and then hands it to you. On the screen is the new contact section. 

He didn’t even need to say anything, his domineering stare was enough for you to promptly type in your information on his phone. 

When you hand it back, his thumb swiftly moves on the screen. A second later, you felt the familiar vibration of a new text in the back pocket of your jeans. 

“Text me if you’re coming, I’ll pick you up,” is all Aemond says before he is already walking away and up the hill of the quad to the path leading to one of the university’s libraries. 

You watch his retreating back for a minute before finally heading back to your friends. 

“What was that?!” Margaery is the first of your friends to ask, but you can tell they are all piqued with interest and confusion. They know that you and Aemond go way back yet don’t have a semblance of a proper history, and that he has never sought you out like that before. 

So as you stare at the text that Aemond sent you:

I hope you’ll come to the party. It’ll be nice if you do. 

All you can tell your friends is:

“I honestly don’t even know.”

--

As soon as your last class for the day was let out at 6 PM, you book it to the nearest bus stop and luckily make it just as soon as the bus pulls up.

You would think for a busy and populated university campus, the public transportation schedule would be better. But alas, most of the students that attend Vale U are trust fund babies and have the most expensive cars and/or drivers that take them anywhere they want to go. 

Not you though. You pretty much live paycheque to paycheque. Although you are lucky enough to have only one job that could sustain your living expenses. 

That is where you are heading now, your part-time job at one of the homes in the #3 Wealthiest Neighborhoods of all of Westeros according to Baelish Times. 

The gated neighborhood of Eyrie Heights sits on the tallest cliff in the region of the Vale. Of course since it is the home of many famous celebrities and important political figures, the nearest bus stop to the front gates of the community is a 45 minutes walk away — you make that trek back and forth at least four days every week. 

You’re used to it so it’s not so bad, and the security guards at the gates are super friendly and would always drive you to your final destination in their golf cart. Today was no different, and you are dropped off at one of the many mansions in the neighborhood belonging to the governing family of the Vale, the Arryn’s. 

“Thanks Grenn!” You call out after hopping off the cart and waving goodbye to your ride. 

“No problem!” He waves back with a wide grin. “Say hey to Mr. T for me!”

You give him a thumbs up before turning your heels to walk up the stone pathway leading to the ivory mansion fit for a king.

It definitely is one of the most gorgeously built homes you’ve ever seen. It is an older mansion but properly maintained with the prettiest front garden and perfect shrubbery. The white bricked walls are paired with dark navy blue shingle roofing, which looks lovely during the hotter months but gorgeous when everything is blanketed with white snow. What does it for you though is the huge oval arched windows and the balconies on the second and third floors with the pillars — it was what caught your wide eyes when you first saw it eight years ago when your mother held your hand and dragged you up the same pathway you are currently walking on. Although it is an Arryn family mansion, the man living there now is the widower of an Arryn woman and he is the one you are caring for.

After you climb up the three tiers of stoned steps with the dragon statue water fountain in the center, you pick up the packages and letters at the front door that he received the past two days you haven’t checked up on him before unlocking the door with your set of keys and stepping inside.

“Viserys?” You shout out, locking the door behind you. From somewhere still on the ground floor, you hear the one you are calling for respond back, In here!

With the packages and a hefty bag you’ve pulled out from a closet near the front door, you head to where you assume ‘in here’ is. 

You end up at one of the rooms in the back of the mansion. It does not even surprise you that this is where you find your patient/friend in the huge home — it is the room he is often in if he is not in his master bedroom or kitchen. The conservatory is as beautiful as every part of the house, but anyone can tell it’s the most loved. With its high windowed ceiling and the windowed walls, the brilliant sun can be clearly seen setting on purple and pink skies. But you knew that and luxurious furnishing wasn’t the reason why Viserys Targaryen favored that room so much — for every other room has the same luxury feel to it — but it is because this room is where him and his first wife would always spend time together during the first few years of their marriage before they moved back to Viserys’ ancestral home in King’s Landing. 

“This room is also the only one we were allowed to spend time in while I was courting her,” you remember Viserys recalling to you and your mother one time with a hearty chuckle. He then pointed outside, where the pool is. “Her father would grill out there, pretending it’s for lunch or dinner. But he was really just keeping a close eye on me to not do anything unsavory. Aemma was always so embarrassed because she said her father didn’t even like barbecue ribs that much. ”

With a smile at that memory of his memory, looking towards the many picture frames in the room that hold weathered photos of the ethereal looking woman who still held the heart of a man even 25 years after her death. 

You turn to watch that man now, hunched over beside a big and long table in the middle of the room occupied fully by miniature statues and structures to resemble the once glorious city of the now ruined Old Valyria. 

Viserys is so consumed with whittling away at a block of soapstone that he did not even notice that you were already in the room. 

While putting down his packages and letters on a side table near the door, you call his name again. He turns to you with a bit of a jolt, before his lips spread into a soft smile. “Sorry, my dear… I’ve just been so focused because my hands are being very agreeable today.”

You laugh, nodding in understanding while walking to where he is sitting. 

“How was the commute here?” Viserys asks while you pull out what you needed in the heavy bag you put down on the ground. 

You shrug nonchalantly as you wrap the blood pressure band around his arm. “Awful like always, but I’ll live.”

The balding platinum haired man frowns at that. “I really wished you’d let me hire a chauffeur for you.”

You chuckle, writing down his numbers on your phone’s notes app and moving on to test his blood sugar level. “And I told you, I spend way too much on my monthly bus pass for you to do that. Besides, I like taking public transportation—“ Viserys gives you a look. “… Sometimes.”

Once you have all of Viserys’ numbers for the day and nothing concerning pops up, you text everything to his primary nurse who visits him once a week, Samwell Tarly. 

As you get a text back from Sam -– “Thank you, ____! 😀” — Visery slowly sits up and asks, “A little game of Cyvasse for old time sakes?”

You groan and frown deeply in a way that definitely shows your age of twenty-two, but you follow him anyway to the table in one of the corners of the room with the Cyvasse game on top. 

Not even ten minutes later, Viserys sighs heavily as he watches you make another wrong move. Honestly, you’ve tried plenty of times to understand this board game but it is just lost on you. At this point, you are just moving pieces you think are the ugliest so they can be taken off the board quicker.

“When is your family visiting?” Visersy asks while taking out another one of your pawns, only four of your pieces left on the board versus his fifteen. “Your father is the only one that gives me a challenge in this game and I miss that — well, your father and my younger brother.”

You shrug, moving a piece that he just knocks over a second later. Honestly, he can be playing the game just as bad as you and you would be none the wiser. “Probably not anytime soon. Autumn is the busiest season at Ironrath with the ironwood and all.”

Viserys hums, winning the game. Then he looks straight at you. “You know, your mother called yesterday–”

“Ugh…” your head falls dramatically, already knowing what he is probably going to say next.

“She said you haven’t been picking up her calls and barely answering her messages.”

Yup, there it is.

You stand up, walking over to the table where you dropped off the packages and pick it up to bring to him. 

“It’s not that I’ve been avoiding her. I’ve just been so busy – with classes, extracurriculars, this job…” you tell him as you hand him a package decorated with silver star stickers from his daughter Helaena at King’s Landing, a postcard from Dorne from his grandsons’ Jace and Luke who are vacationing there at the moment, and a letter from Otto Hightower — his father-in-law from his second marriage. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to call her tonight.”

“Is this job too much on top of all of your studies?” Viserys asks, full of concern. “Because—“

“No, it’s not this job,” you reassure him. “I’m just shit at time management. Sansa’s helping me out with that though.”

“Well I hope you are at least taking time for yourself. Your youth should be spent having fun and not being stressed about the future.”

Easier said than done, you think but you let him know instead, “My friends and I had a picnic today. That was fun! And—” Hold on, you just remembered something, “ I … actually got invited to a party tomorrow night… by Aemond.”

At the mention of his son, Viserys’ head tilts in confusion. “Aemond…? I didn’t know you two were friends.”

You scoff out a chuckle. “We’re not… That’s what’s weird about it.”

Viserys hums in thought for a while then smiles at you. “I think you should go to the party with him!”

You make a face and he chuckles, encouraging further, “I’m being serious! My son needs a good influence like you in his life… and under that cold exterior, I know my boy is as sweet as can be. Just give him a chance!” 

Sweet is the last word you would use to describe Aemond Targaryen. Maybe agreeable would have been more suitable. But you know how much Viserys loves his family – as distant as they all may be from him – so you just let it go with a sigh.

And like you told his son earlier, you tell him the same with a tight smile, “… I’ll think about it…”

--

Turns out, you didn’t even need to think about it. 

No. No thinking was involved. 

Not when you are basically kidnapped out of your apartment. As soon as you get home from the library, you are being grabbed around the waist hauled up and out of your modest and tiny living space. 

“How dare you ! You are supposed to be on my team! Team Always Stay At Home Like Gremlins!” You seethe furiously at your best friend and roommate, Jon Snow, who has a hold of your feet to stop you from kicking the man who has you on his shoulder. 

“I know ! I’m sorry, but… Margaery told me to…” Jon says with a weary and apologetic smile. “And plus… Sansa’s going to the party.”

“She’s your cousin, you weirdo !” You bite back at him, and from over your shoulder you can see he is just blushing profusely, unperturbed by the accusation you threw at him. Under you, Theon Greyjoy is laughing so hard in that annoying way of his, so you warn him, “Don’t even get me started with you, buddy.”

He shuts his mouth rather quickly after that.

You are hauled into the car waiting at the front of the apartment, and when you settle in as comfortably as you could after getting tossed into the backseat by Theon, you are faced with Robb and Meera peering back at you from the front seats. 

“Where’s Sansa and Marg?” You ask once the car pulls away, sandwiched between Jon and Theon. 

“Oh, you know… taking a million hours to get ready,” Robb says as he turns right on a street that the robotic lady navigating him tells him to turn at — heading to Loras Tyrell’s penthouse. 

You gesture down at your own outfit — a cream oversized Vale U hoodie and loose blue jeans. “And I didn’t get the same courtesy because…?”

You are not even going to mention your unstyled hair and lack of makeup. 

Meera playfully rolls her eyes. “You look great… like always.”

You stick your tongue out at her while grabbing your phone out of your pocket. 

To Aemond — Heeeeey! I’m coming to the party! You don’t need to pick me up, I have a ride and I’m already on my way there! — see you soon 😃 !

Then before you have a chance to put it away, you notice the little message typing bubble pop up and you wait for a few seconds, and then…

Your mouth gapes open in offense. 

The asshole leaves you on read. 

--

“Maybe he got distracted with something,” of course it’s Jon trying to reason and be practical about the whole situation, always trying to give people the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes it just sounds like he is playing devil’s advocate — like this time, since it involves Aemond “The Ice Prince” Targaryen. “Didn’t you say he was typing something before he didn’t respond at all?”

“I think he is just a right royal prick,” Robb states, which makes the girl he has his arms around giggle.

All your friends are stuffed into an elevator now heading up to the party at Margaery’s brother’s place. And instead of being excited for the night since Loras usually throws the best parties, you’re just pissed off, staring at the read receipt you’ve gotten more than 20 minutes ago. 

“Thank you, Robb!” You appreciate that you at least have someone on your side on this. 

“Watch though, as soon as we step inside, he’ll be a blubbering mess and he’ll tell you he couldn’t respond because the ____ ____ actually messaged him back,” Margaery predicts, somewhat jokingly. 

“Now that I can’t ever see happening in a million years!” Theon snickers. “Do you see what she’s wearing?”

Gasping, you slap his arm. “You said I looked fine, you dick!”

“Meera said you looked fine, I didn’t say nor agree with anything!”

With your friends laughing at yours and Theon’s shenanigans and just when you were about to hit him again, the door of the elevator opens to the sound of smooth R&B. 

“Is that…?” You trail off, listening closely when you step out the elevator. Once you recognize the artist singing live for the party guests, you hit Theon’s arm multiple times out of excitement. “GREY WORM?!”

You ignore Theon’s whining and pouting about how you are hurting him (you weren’t, he’s just being dramatic) to squeal with Sansa – who also loves the up and coming vocalist just as much as you do. 

Sansa links her arm around yours and the two of you set off to the huge living area to join the crowd dancing and singing along with Grey Worm. 

Margaery and Robb find the two of you later in the middle of the dancefloor, still dancing and singing your lungs out. They bring with them four little cups, and after toasting with your friends, you knock back your first shot for the night — and definitely not the last.

After Grey Worm plays his last encore song for the night, you boo lightheartedly with the crowd making the handsome Astapori laugh, promising he’ll be back in the Vale soon for a proper concert. When he steps off the “stage” (which was just a 6 inch platform) he kisses the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen and you almost want to boo seriously because how are you supposed to compete with that?!

You pout with Sansa, both your dreams dashed in an instant. As the DJ returns to her booth, the room is shaken with the loud bass of HEATED by Beyoncé – the most popular artist in all six continents of the world – you turn to Margaery to ask, “Why was Grey Worm the opening act and Ramsay’s dark-sided heavy metal band the main one for the night?”

Margaery sighs and rolls her eyes, “Well, Renly just signed Ramsay’s band to his label so my brother wanted to be the ever supportive boyfriend… I told him to switch it around but when he asked Ramsay, the manchild threw a fit…”

“Of course he did,” Sansa says, shaking her head in mild disbelief. 

“Let’s stop talking about the prick and have some fun before he inevitably goes on that stage, yeah?” Robb suggests, and you all agree with him, deciding not to let Ramsay ruin your night. Maybe later, when he does start his set, you can all just head to the outdoor balcony with the pool and mini bar.  

You stay dancing with your friends until the song ends before you part with them to grab yourself another drink. You were also incredibly hot, so once you were out of the crowd, you pull off your hoodie, now only wearing a white tank top – very Olivia Rodrigo chic. You toss the hoodie onto one of the couches, knowing no one here will ever steal Vale U merch (and if someone does, it’s whatever) and then you head to the bar. You take another shot while you order a peach bellini and as you wait for your drink to be made, your eyes scan the room. The party is in full swing now and there has to be more than fifty people in this room alone, so there must be plenty more in other areas of the penthouse. Just as you get your drink, you notice someone from the corner of your eyes standing against the wall by a loveseat pretty close to you. 

The guy who left you on read, Aemond Targaryen. 

You suppose you weren’t pissed off anymore (and perhaps Jon was right that he got distracted by something) so you decide you should at least say hi. With your drink in hand, you walk to him and you have to admit… He is looking pretty good tonight. The black silk button up shirt he has on fits so nicely against his body and it is tucked into an equally as tight leather pants that left no room to the imagination. You might have drooled a little, you’re not even going to lie. 

As you approach him, his eye lands on you, taking in you in a way that makes you feel like he is devouring you whole. His mouth parts slightly while his thumb starts to skim across the rim of the glass cup of whiskey on ice he is holding. Maybe it’s the shots you’ve taken, or maybe Meera was right — maybe you do look good.

You were so distracted by how handsome he looks that you didn’t even notice the company he is with until it was too late. 

“Well, well… Isn’t this a nice surprise, angel eyes?” Is what you hear when you are about to say hello to Aemond. As you grimace at the sound of his voice, Aemond looks between you and the man sitting on the couch he is beside. 

Ramsay takes away the arm he has around the girl who is sitting with him to put both his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together, leaning forward to regard you closer. 

“Finally ready to make nice again, sweetheart?” Ramsay asks you, that infuriating smirk on his lips. 

“You two know each other?!” Aegon Targaryen — Aemond’s older brother by three years — questions like he cannot believe it to be true. You wish it wasn’t true. But sadly, it is. You went on five dates with the scumbag just last year. 

“No,” you tut out at the same time Ramsay replies, “She’s my ex.”

“Ex?!” you scoff out with a laugh. “We went on, like, five dates, my dude.”

Ramsay gasps mockingly, grabbing onto his chest. “Oh sweetheart, how you wound my fragile heart. I thought what we had was special!”

You roll your eyes, but decide not to give him the satisfaction of another reply from you. So you turn to Aemond instead, throwing him a very expectant smile but you are met with a carefully neutral expression. You falter slightly under his stare, licking your lips and then pressing it together before you tell him, “Hey, uh, sorry I didn’t come here with you. I got pretty much held hostage by my friends as soon as I got home from school.”

Aemond nods slowly with a throaty hum. “It’s fine.”

Feeling several eyes on you, you mirror the bob of his head as you wait for him to say something — anything — else. 

“Are you… having fun?” You ask, breaking first.

Eye still on you, Aemond shrugs nonchalantly. But after a couple of seconds, he turns his head away, looking to the side as he takes a sip of his drink, then keeps his stare at the dancing crowd as if you weren’t even standing in front of him.

You let out a humorless chuckle, trying not to feel rejected. 

“Okay, then… Great talk,” you murmur, then you promptly walk away before you humiliate yourself any further. 

What is his deal ?

First he invites you to this stupid party, then he leaves you on read, and now he makes you a fool in front of all his friends…

Honestly… It’s on you for expecting anything different.

--

Once you turn to leave, Aemond is quick to watch you walk away with an indecipherable look on his face. Never once taking his eye off you until you eventually blend into the crowd. 

“Was that her?” Vis asks — a distant cousin of Aemond’s, with the same name as his dad (a Targaryen thing; after the 10th generation they just became less and less creative and started reusing the same 10 names). “Is that the girl?” 

“Yesss , it issss!” Aegon answers in a sing-song, slurring his words from the many shots and bottles of beer he has downed already. 

“The girl?” Ramsay questions, frowning in confusion. Meanwhile, Vis grimaces in disgust, muttering something rude about your outfit.

“The girl Aemond needs to trick into falling in love with him,” Aegon supplies, walking over to his younger brother to wrap his arm around the taller man. With his hand grasping tight on Aemond, Aegon shakes him and sharply hisses in his ear, “And you’re already fucking it up, little brother.”

With a scowl, Aemond jerks aggressively, successful with getting his brother off of him with a shrug of his shoulder and an elbow into Aegon’s stomach.

“Ooooh , ___ is the girl?” Ramsay exclaims, blue eyes lighting up with excitement at the remembrance of what they had all talked about about a week ago. “You should have told me earlier, and I wouldn’t have said all that… Now, I just reminded her of all the good times we had together–” Winking at Aemond, he finishes with, “It’s going to be tougher for you now, little Aemond.”

Aemond scoffs, eyes rolling off to the side. 

Vis’ younger sister, Dany, turns to Ramsay, her thick and pretty brows drawing together in confusion. “Isn’t that the girl that blocked you on all her social media accounts?”

“Yeah,” Ramsay’s head rolls slowly from one side to the other as if saying ‘what of it?’. “Because she was so madly in love with me and was so distraught to find out she wasn’t the only girl I was dating at the time…”

At that, Aemond decides it’s time to tune Ramsay’s annoying ass out. He huffs out, finishing his drink to leave his group of… people he hangs out with, to get another at the bar. 

He feels someone following behind him, but they don’t make themselves known until they are both standing by the bar.

“You’re acting like a bigger asshole than you usually are tonight,” Alys Rivers tells Aemond without any prompting after they order their drinks. Just as he was about to roll his eye for the hundredth time that evening, Alys shakes her head and holds a finger up, “ Don’t roll your eye at me… You know I’m right.”

Aemond sighs and says nothing because she is right, and so he sips on his drink instead as soon as it is slid towards him. 

Alys turns her whole body towards him, direct and headstrong like always when she tells him,  “How do you expect her to fall in love with you even just a little bit if you treat her like that?”

Aemond holds her gaze for only a few seconds before it drops down to the clinking of melting ice in the cup he had placed on the bar table. “This is the stupidest plan I’ve ever agreed to be a part of.”

The only person that he actually likes in his so-called friend group lets out a short chuckle, reminding him, “I’m pretty sure I told you that when Aegon first mentioned it.” 

Aemond lets out a dissatisfied hum, bringing his glass up to his mouth to take another swallow. 

“You know you can just… not do it. Leave the poor girl alone.”

Aemond frowns. “I’m already in it.”

Alys snorts at that. “Barely.”

Then Aemond goes quiet, deep in thought. Because once again, Alys is right. He can just back out, let Aegon do this stupid plan. Why should he waste his time on this? Waste his time with you? 

But then again… He doesn’t trust his brother to do anything right. So in the end, it has to be him.

“I have to do it,” he says in a way that leaves no room for doubt. “You know what’s at stake, Alys.”

At that, Alys sighs heavily and nods in relent. “Right. Of course…” Then she offers him an encouraging smile. “At least we now know it won’t be that hard for her to fall for you… She did date Ramsay after all…”

Aemond lets out a combination of a snort and a chuckle, tipping his glass towards Alys. “You’re right.”

Her small smile spreads into a bigger one, eyes rolling teasingly. “I’m always right, Aemond. You should know that by now,” then as she clinks her glass against his, she adds, “And I have one more prediction with this idiotic plan of yours.”

Leaning on the elbow he has rested on the table, Aemond tips his head to the side and decides to humor her with a question, “And what’s that?”

With a secretive smirk, Alys brings her wine glass up to her dark red lips and says before taking a sip, “You’re going to accidentally fall for her first.”

And for the first time in forever, Aemond actually lets out an uncharacteristically loud laugh, gazing incredulously at his friend like she has gone crazy.

Because that will never, ever happen. Not in a million years.

--

Much to your surprise, it is Gendry Baratheon who pulls you out of your sour mood with his silly jokes and cute flirty comments.

When he asks you to dance, you glance discreetly to Sansa for permission but she is too busy canoodling with her cousin , so you look towards the next best option — Robb. The oldest Stark sibling gives you a thumbs up. Their younger sister, Arya, dated the hot architecture major but dumped him before she dropped out of uni just the previous year to travel the world and learn from experience instead of books. 

You’re glad for his approval, because as you grind your hips against Gendry’s with his hands tight on your waist, you realize how much you are a sucker for pretty boys with dark hair and light eyes. That’s probably the only reason you swiped right on Ramsay.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while…” Gendry simmers, the pupils in his bright blue eyes blown with desire, pressing himself even firmer against you. Very firm indeed. 

“Yeah?” You smirk with an adorable tilt of your head, threading your fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck, bringing his face down closer to yours. “And why didn’t you?”

His long dark lashes flatter, eyes roaming your face as he murmurs somewhat absentmindedly, “You really don’t know how intimidatingly gorgeous you are, do you…?”

After a gleeful giggle, you let out a soft sigh as you lean in at the same time, wanting to close the distance between your lips. But just when your mouth is about to touch Gendry’s chapped yet alluring lips, you are being yanked away from him rather harshly with a hand that had just clasped around your elbow. At the rather disorienting motion of the pull, you end up smacking face first into the chest of the person who is the culprit of the rude interruption. 

The guy smells so goddamn good that you almost melt into him, until you remember why your nose is pressed onto him in the first place —

“What the heck?!” You cry out, prying yourself away from the person to glare at them. What you find is Aemond staring down at you before he glances over at the man behind you. 

“It’s a bit of a bastard move to try and stick your tongue down the throat of someone else’s date, don’t you think, Baratheon?” 

Both yours and Gendry’s mouth drop at Aemond’s accusatory statement. 

DATE?! WHAT IS THIS SCUMBAG ON ABOUT?!

“Sorry, man… I honestly didn’t know you two were a thing…” Gendry apologizes to Aemond, then looks at you longingly before he walks away, muttering under his breath, “Seven Hells, I need another drink.”

“Wait, Gen …” you trail off when he glances at you in a way that makes you falter, shaking his head with a heavy sigh of disappointment – which you think might not be because he thinks you’re taken but because he expected better of you to not cheat on your boyfriend . You want to stop him and tell him it wasn’t true because it’s not!

“No… come back…” You cry out pathetically, reaching out dramatically but he is already too far gone. You deflate, wallowing in your sadness for a couple more seconds until your ire strikes and you glower at the reason you did not end the night with making out with one of the hottest guys at the party. 

In the middle of the dancefloor, Aemond stands stiff rod straight with his hands clasped together behind his back, a shit-eating grin lifting his lips. 

Bitch, you declare in your mind. 

Your arms are wildly moving when you ask him incredulously, “What the hell was that?” Then quieter, you harshly whisper, “Why did you tell him I was your date?!”

“I invited you to this party, didn’t I?” Aemond questions, head cocking.

“Yeah…?”

“And you texted me you’re coming…” “You mean the text you ig–”

“So then that means you’re my date,” Aemond declares as if it’s that simple, cutting you off rudely. Then his hand clutches over his heart, pouting mockingly. “and you’ve hurt my feelings terribly by dancing with another guy.”

You might not be as sober as you thought because instead of remaining pissed off, you are actually kinda… impressed . This is the most personality you have ever seen Aemond have. A bit vindictive, sure, but at least he is not all emo sad sulking boy like you previously thought he was just. 

Though… unlucky for him… you can be quite a menace yourself. And you still haven’t forgiven him for leaving you on read, making you look dumb in front of his friends, and now cockblocking you from getting a hot piece of ass— Oh boy… You are heated all over again. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Aemond,” you say with poutiest of pouts (the one you use whenever you want something to go your way. And it usually works, just ask Jon and all the times he went out to the 24 hours convenience store a few streets down at two in the morning to grab whatever you wanted) then you mirror him, grabbing at your heart. 

Aemond’s eye flicker down from your begrudgingly cute face to where your hand lands, taking a sharp inhale as you squeeze your boob, before meeting your eyes again with his own wide, looking so confused at your sudden 180 — and also, why are you fondling yourself?! 

“How will I ever make it up to you?”

But you give him no chance to answer because you all of the sudden perk up, clapping your hands together as you exclaim, “I know! Since you wanted to dance with me so badly—“ you titter out a quite evil-sounding giggle, “— then we’re gonna dance, baby !”

Aemond frowns, shaking his head minutely, “I didn’t—“

But you’re already dancing — and quite horribly as well. Where was the rhythm you had when you were grinding with the Baratheon bastard? Aemond wonders while watching your every uncoordinated move with an unimpressed hmm. 

Little does he know, you’re dancing this bad on purpose. You can dance — maybe not as well as Meera but you can keep a rhythm. For Aemond though — your sweet, sweet date who is always so prim, proper and collected — oh how embarrassed he will be to be seen with someone who is not as perfect as him. Someone who can’t help but make a fool of herself and in turn, him , for being tied to her. 

With your fists pressing against your chest and your elbows out, you start to shake your arms back and forth. You’re actually surprised Aemond is able to hold eye contact with you… Maybe you’re not doing enough? So you suppose you need to turn it up a notch. 

And as if the DJ is your partner in crime, the next song she plays is absolutely perfect. 

I can lick it, I can ride it while you slippin’ and slidin’..

You start with something easy, dipping your hips side to side, enough to be sensual and then— 

I can do all them little tricks…

BAM!

The sprinkler! You even make the sound effect, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth to sound out the tcktcktcktck as you wave your arm above your head in a jerking motion. 

And keep the dick up inside it…

You jump, landing on your feet wide apart with bent and spread knees, smacking the top of your thighs loudly. Aemond’s face remains completely unfazed even though there is an audience starting to surround the two of you now. But your gaze only on each other. 

You can smack it, you can grip it…

You straighten up, turning around swiftly, slapping your butt next as you look over your shoulder at Aemond with a wink. You hear people hoot and holler — sounding a lot like Theon and Margaery. 

You can go down and kiss it…

Grinning at your friend’s encouragement, you drop down— 

All the way to the floor, laying on your front on the ground to wave your whole body, doing the worm so impressively and backwards instead of forward that the whole crowd cheers so loudly. 

You hop up just as fast onto your feet, looking down at yourself and find you were lucky enough to not have a drip of gross wetness on you from all the drinks sloshed onto the floor throughout the night. Now that’s a miracle. 

And every time he leave me ‘lone, he always tell me he miss it…

After shrugging to yourself, you make eye contact with Aemond again, stepping towards him with a sultry smirk, your fingers trailing on his body as you make your way around him, stopping behind him to breathily sing into his ear the next part…

He want a F-F-R-EEeeEee-A-K…

You suppress the giggle when you feel him shiver. Probably out of disgust and mortification — and you couldn’t be more proud of yourself. 

You move again, to complete your circling around him, finally almost in front of him again—

F-F-R-Eee—-

“—EEP!” 

That was you, bleeting louder than the music, all because you were suddenly grabbed by the waist and dipped down low by none other than Aemond Targaryen. 

The crowd goes wild, thinking that what is happening in front of them is a risqué kiss between the Ice Prince and the weird dancing girl. But it is not that all, because what Aemond’s pretty long hair has hidden from view of prying eyes is not a stolen kiss, but it’s his burning gaze on you as he growls a little too ferally, “You think you’re real cute, don’t you, love?”

As he impressively keeps the two of you in that position, his arm solidly around your waist and his other hand cupping the back of your head so gently, you can’t help but really look at him for the first time in your life. It’s hard to deny it, but he really is so easy on the eye. The slope of his nose is enviously perfect, his violet eye the brightest and most vibrant out of all his family, and…

Though he did not move one inch during your dance for him, Aemond is breathing quite as heavily as you are. The puff of his hot breath on your mouth has you looking down, and his eye follows where you look.

Aemond’s lips… They look so soft and the shape of them so sharp at the edges… You kind of want a feel of them against yours. Just to see…

His tongue peeks out, wetting his mouth, and you blink slow in rapt attention. Once he is done, you flutter your lashes, glancing back up to meet his gaze from beneath them. 

He is too undeniably pretty, it’s unfair!

If Aemond is moving closer towards you, you don’t notice. Your nerves are getting the better of you, all thoughts have gone out the window. 

And that is why you so suddenly blurt out with a crooked smile, “So… ya like jazz?”

Aemond’s features twist into one of confusion before he starts to laugh as he pulls the both of you up to stand. The crowd has disappeared, onto the next big thing — a fight that broke out in the kitchen. But you and Aemond stay, with also a few stragglers still dancing. 

You burn with embarrassment. This is Jon’s fault! He’s the one who suggested to watch The Bee Movie last night. And you know what’s also his fault? The reason you were born in the first place! If his mom — your god mother Lyanna, and also your mom’s best friend — hadn’t gotten knocked up by her summer fling, your mother wouldn’t have begged your dad to start a family so quickly because they’ve always wanted to have their kids grow up together. 

While you make threats at Jon Snow in your head — promising he will rue the day he was born — Aemond is still laughing, telling you, “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

You take a chance to glance sideways at him….

The smile that lights up Aemond’s face is so gorgeous and glorious that your mouth parts in awe and your heartbeat starts to race. 

As you continue to openly stare now, it dawns on you that this is the first you’ve seen Aemond with such a genuine smile. The others were either snarky smirks or put on to appease whoever he was speaking to. 

You can’t believe he has been hiding this from the world. 

“Wow… You should smile more often,” you murmur without really thinking about it. “It looks nice on you.”

His face flattens as soon as the words leave you, pink blushing his cheeks and his ears as he swiftly turns on his heels to walk away. You don’t allow him to get far, grabbing onto his hand to pull him back towards you, whining out with laughter, “Noooo … don’t be embarrassed! I’ll shut up!”

After heaving the most exhausted sigh you’ve ever heard, Aemond turns back around to face you. You flutter your lashes at him to seem innocent, an overly optimistic smile rounding your cheeks adorably. 

“Do you want to dance?” You ask him. “Like, for real this time?”

While he eyes you warily, Aemond finds himself nodding slowly. At his acceptance, you let out a goblin like giggle of heh heh heh while you take his other hand, both of his in both of yours.

You start to move, encouraging him to do so too with the bobbing of your head in time with the beat of the music. Clearing his throat, Aemond begins to move as well… And you don’t know how but… He makes the simplest move of swaying side to side look so… painful.

“Oh, okay, wow…” You mutter, head tilting while looking down at his feet. “… Not the best footwork…”

“I thought you said you’ll shut up?” Aemond snaps with a fierce glare your way. You manage to suppress another laugh, tightly pressing your lips together to motion a pretend zipper closing across the seam of it with your fingers before lacing your hand with his again. 

You spend the next half hour teaching him how to dance. It wasn’t particularly successful, but at least you had fun!

You think Aemond did too.

He smiled and laughed more times than you can count with both your hands.

And like you told him earlier, it looks nice on him.

--

Aemond drives you home before Ramsay’s band starts their set. Not because you didn’t want to watch them (which you didn’t, but that’s besides the point) but because the worm you did actually hurt your back a little, the pain didn’t start until later. 

So as you lay in your bed, you make a note to yourself: never do the worm again. 

Scratch that. 

Never do the worm again drunk. 

Come on! You can’t completely forego a classic!

Growing more tired, you check your phone one last time. Shooting your friends messages to get home safe and also to Jon — please pick me up some pain killers 🥺. 

Then for some reason the last message conversation you open up is the one with the newest contact on your phone. 

It’s barely a conversation , you think to yourself as you stare at the glaring read receipt. And yet that doesn’t stop you from double texting. 

To Aemond — I had fun with you tonight ☺️

You turn to your side just as the all too familiar ‘…’ bubble from his side of the conversation pops up. You frown at your phone; waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and…

Your eyes light up, grinning wide with an overjoyed giggle. 

Because Aemond didn’t leave you hanging this time. Not at all. 

From Aemond — I had fun with you as well.  — Have a good night.  — Rest well and take a Poppyvil for your back.  — If it gets worse tomorrow, let me know. 

You send him back an ‘I will 🤠’ before you begin to drift off to sleep, your phone pressed to your chest and a smile on your face put on there by the last person you would ever expect to — Aemond Targaryen.

untitled playlist 🎵 nothing else i could do · ella jane

--

author’s note: i hope you guys enjoy the first part of this story :)!! i’m so so excited for the rest!! the song that will be at the end of every chapter (or maybe scattered throughout the fic, i’m not sure yet lol) is a song that the oc puts in a playlist that she unknowingly makes with aemond in mind hehe.

let me know what you think!! feedback keeps us writers motivated :)!!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond targaryen #hotd

[valiantroeagleangel]

Nosferatu I.

Vampire Ruffilo x female reader

Nosferatu! Ruffilo, Nicholas is not necessarily very mentally stable, a bit obsessive too, and a perv, masturbation, voyeurism.

I PUT MY SOUL IN THAT THING. I'm pretty sure I'm about to pass out. Seriously it took me days to proofread it because I'm weak and lazy and I thought I could just write gothic stuff like it was the XIXth century as if I was a native English speaker. Spoiler alert: turns out I cannot.

Anyway, there will be a second part but that second part is long as fuck and I didn't want to put everything in there because I'm not writing 10k words long chapters. So I'll have you waiting for the rest of the story. But here, take my fucked up stuff. It sucks, it's short, but it's here.

Where Noah is a young and arrogant vampire, Nicholas is more mature and full of remorse (and a total psycho).

Mama’s tag list:  @philomenie @gipsonnikki @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy  @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner  @loeytuan98  @sthnog  @cookiesupplier  @cncohshit  @lma1986  @skulliecadaver-blog @talialovesmiw @to-be-written @4rtificialfolio @arkiliastuff

He used to be so gorgeous, him who used to profane the bed of many people of the fair sex. The type of man any woman's mind would go blank just by the sight of it. He used to be so gorgeous, tall, and talented. But now all that was left of him was a name.

Nosferatu. What a pathetic sobriquet.

What was the worth of his life now? What deserved a soul like his, doomed to damnation? Nothing. He deserved nothing, only the pity he could experience for himself. Those crooked fingers didn't merit to be seen, nor this monstrous face.

He used to be so gorgeous but now, now all he was reduced to was awful looks and a stupid nickname. He had lost all his greatness, all his presence for the sake of an immortality he no longer even wanted. He had dreamt of eternity, a forever life that would grant him power, money, love.

Love.

No love was left for him. No one stayed by his side after all these centuries. His body was perishing like a bird hiding to die. He was ageing in the worst kind of way. In an inhuman kind of way.

Sometimes he tried to remember what he used to look like but even then he couldn't see it anymore. All he could see in the mirror was the time that had passed and the lack of blood that destroyed him without ever letting him die. Sometimes he also told himself that he deserved it, that it was his sentence for being so greedy during his young years, thinking that he would pass eternity in the arms of simple women, women who would have been ready to give him their life. Oh, he could kill to live that again, he would die to live that again, just one last time. To feel the heat and the adoration from another someone.

And when he thought about that, he thought about her.

The first time he saw her, he wondered for a second if it was people like her who inhabited the Garden of Eden. People like her deserved to live in the heavens and were cursed to live in that hell of human life. He wondered that for a second, to not regret his appearance. To not regret the fact that he couldn't dare to approach her even if he wanted to. He would kill for her, die for her, even live for her. Live that miserable life if it meant spending eternity by her side.

Nicholas was consumed by her presence, his mind haunted by her image incessantly, day and night. Other women held no allure for him now; his thoughts were fixated solely on her. Yet, how could he dare approach her, she who was so pure, so holy, while he remained steeped in sin? She was beyond his reach, an angelic figure in a realm far removed from his own. Accustomed to the company of prostitutes, he could only hope that one day, amidst her divine radiance and devout Christian devotion, she might cast her eyes upon him.

As time passed, his longing intensified, driving him ever closer to her. The first time he spoke to her, she seemed unaffected by his gaze, as though she perceived him differently from others, as though she saw the man he was beneath his sinful exterior. If such were the case, he thanked the heavens for this unexpected mercy.

It seemed a miracle from above, an answer to his relentless prayers. How could it be possible? He feared her seeing him, hearing him, uncovering the darkness within his soul. But in her presence, surrounded by her saintly aura, perhaps he was not as rotten as he believed. Just as animals flee from their predators and dragonflies shun the shadows, he felt compelled to flee from her, lest his darkness tarnish her innocence.

"Pray for me, pray for the salvation of our souls, and I shall pray for you."

Perhaps he was not irredeemable, after all. Perhaps his perception of himself was skewed by his past sins, by the atrocities he had committed. He saw himself through his own tainted lens, blind to the possibility that she saw him differently, saw the goodness that still lingered within him.

In her presence, he began to see himself anew, to crave her with a fervour that surpassed all else. He longed for her touch, her gaze, her salvation. With any other, he would have succumbed to his basest instincts, sating his desires without remorse. But with her, he found himself captivated, entranced by her naïveté, her chastity.

She became his guiding light, his salvation in a world corrupted with darkness. Though their encounters remained chaste, devoid of lust or romance, he found himself drawn to her with an intensity that bordered on obsession. He cherished every moment spent in her presence, every fleeting glance, every whispered word.

However, she was too kind, too pure for him to pollute. He dared not cross the line, to stain her innocence with his immorality.

Until one fateful night, as he wandered through the rectory garden, drawn once more to her window. It was a simple gesture, a fleeting glance to ensure her safety, but it would change everything. As he peered into her room, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, he perceived her, naked.

In that moment, he realized that she was unlike any other, her beauty transcending the physical realm. He already knew she was so much more but his desire for her, once suppressed, now burned with an insatiable fire. He longed to feel her skin beneath his fingertips, to taste her essence upon his lips.

In the shadowed embrace of the night, she stood, an ethereal vision of delicate beauty, unaware of the storm brewing within the depths of Nicholas's soul. His vow echoed in the caverns of his mind like a cursed refrain, a promise forged in the crucible of his darkest desires. He had sworn that he would never defile her virtue with the stain of his lust. But, as she moved unknowingly, marked by purity, madness clawed at the fragile confines of his sanity.

Nicholas had known many a depravity in his timeless existence. Nicholas had sinned so much before. Sins that festered like an eyesore upon his immortal soul, but sins he bore with the weight of indifference. What use was there for remorse in the heart of one condemned to an eternity of solitude?

But now, as he stood in the cloak of night, his gaze fixed upon her, he felt a stirring of something long dormant within him. A flicker of care, of forbidden longing burning like a phantom flame. It was a torment he had not known before, a torment born of the realization that he cared, cared too much, and yet not enough to resist the call of his baser instincts.

In the hush of that nocturnal sanctuary, she moved to put her nightgown on, unaware of the predator lurking in the shadows. And as she dressed herself, Nicholas succumbed to the darkness of his fantasy.

With trembling hands, he unfastened is belt, allowing it to fall to the ground like a silent plea for absolution. A hand slipped beneath the fabric of his attire, a profane offering to the insatiable hunger gnawing at the last strands of his sanity. The moment hung suspended in time, a symphony of temptation and remorse warring for dominance within his fractured soul.

And then, as if in defiance of the heavens themselves, he bit down his lower lip, a desperate attempt to stifle the sinful moan of ecstasy threatening to spill forth from his lips.

With haste, his fingers passed through the band of his underwear as he only caressed his tip before stroking himself a little. There was nothing in the world that this Nicholas treasured more than sex, except for blood maybe. But god that woman was all he desired and the fact that she was far from his touch was killing him.

Yet, even if he tried to struggle against his sinful urges, groanings escaped him the moment he pressed his palm against his member. He observed her with a hunger that defied reason, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of her form as she tended to her hair with tender care. It was a simple gesture, devoid of any overt carnality, but it was enough to kindle a fire within him.

Nicholas found himself trapped in her gaze, a glance that pierced through the room. It was as if she possessed an otherworldly awareness, a subtle acknowledgement of his presence that sent shivers down his spine. His breath caught in his throat, a stifled gasp escaping his lips as he struggled to maintain composure.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, suspended in the fragile balance between desire and restraint. His hand continued its desperate rhythm, betraying the turmoil raging within him. Even as his body yearned for her, Nicholas wanted to look at her, to observe her like he never did, in the vulnerability of the night.

She remained oblivious to his presence, lost in the mundane tasks of dressing herself, unaware of the tempest brewing just beyond her window. But for Nicholas, her every movement was a symphony of temptation, a call beckoning him ever closer to the edge of reason.

With each passing second, the boundaries of propriety blurred, giving way to a primal hunger that consumed him whole. He was a man possessed, shackled by the chains of his own desire, unable to resist the pull of her allure.

And as he stood there, bathed in the pale glow of the moon, Nicholas knew that he had ventured too far into the darkness, surrendering himself to a passion that could only lead to ruin. But, even in the depths of his despair, he found solace in the knowledge that for one brief moment, he had allowed himself to want her as he damned the consequences.

The more he touched himself the more he frowned his brows, slowing the movements of his fingers. He tried to calm his tempestuous breathing, tried not to come in his garment like a young one but it was an undying torture.

In the hushed sanctuary of her chamber, she moved with a delicate grace, her form, a silhouette against the flickering candlelight. Her slender arms swayed gently as she reached out, fingertips brushing against the handle of the candleholder, guiding it to its rightful place on the nightstand. The candle, cradled within her grasp, cast dancing shadows across the room. There was nothing more than innocence within her every movement.

But as she performed this simple act, Nicholas found himself trapped in a web of his thoughts. Though her actions spoke only of purity and grace, his mind betrayed him, wandering down forbidden pathways fraught with desire and longing.

His hand pressed on himself, he groaned again, his forehead covered in sweat betraying him. He couldn't handle anything anymore. He touched himself like she touched the light. And he whispered her name as he finished between his fingers.

She continued her ethereal motions through the room. Each step echoed softly against the ancient floorboards, a melancholic melody that stirred the very air around her. With a gentle sigh, she departed, leaving behind the confines of her sanctuary.

As she vanished into the shadows beyond, the weight of her absence hung heavy in the air, leaving Nicholas to wrestle with his unruly desires amidst the solitude of the rectory garden. Alone with his sins, he was left to confront the horrors of longing that raged within his heart. He was left to face the monstrosity he just committed.

#bad omens #nicholas ruffilo #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #vampire! ruffilo #smut #vampire! nicholas ruffilo

[kittwix]

What are the Joestars like in a Relationship?

Jonathan Joestar, Joseph Joestar, Jotaro Kujo, Josuke Higashikata, Giorno Giovanna, Jolyne Cujoh, Johnny Joestar, Josuke Higashikata (Gappy), Jodio Joestar x Neu! Reader

word count:

tags: mostly fluff, there might be some sugestive content for joseph and jolyne specifically but you have to squint to really catch it,

Jonathan Joestar

Perhaps this might be a bit predictable, but he's a total sweetheart and would treat you with the most care in the world. Honestly, it can be a bit overwhelming how affectionate he can be.

To start things off, he's very much the type to always ask you for minor things. To walk you home, to hold your hand, to go out on a date, etc. It was how he was raised, he'd put your feelings first as the gentleman that he is.

He isn't one to initiate a lot of things, he isn't used to romance that often honestly. You had to initiate the first kiss and he allowed you to. However, once he gets the silent approval from your end, that lets him know that he needs to be bolder in order to at least impress you.

Will always defend you, no matter how right or how wrong you are, he will be at your side and believing everything that you have to say.

He isn't the best cook, it wouldn't be too wise to ask him for some help around the kitchen. He may be a gentleman but he is still a very clumsy man. But he would gladly be a taste tester.

He will refer to you with loving, old-fashion petnames (ex. darling, dearest and sweetheart are his favorites)

Very solid relationship, 10/10 he treats you the best out of all the joestars in my personal opinion.

Joseph Joestar

It's never gonna be boring with him, that's for sure. He makes sure you have the time of your life whenever you're around him, even if it means risking your lives.

Seriously, at times you hate to be the party pooper but he takes things a little too far. Though, the last thing he'd ever want is to put you in danger for his own foolishness. A good talk or two would really put him down and keep him in his lane.

He very much does initiate a lot of the activities you do together, as well as the affections that he shows you. And that also means being extra touchy with you too. Seriously, he can't keep his hands to himself.

The kind of guy to go out of his way to really impress you in a way that it feels like a competition. Who is he competiting with? Well any other man that looks your way, of course! He'll always have your heart and you'd have to tell him that since he goes above and beyond in getting you gifts.

Some of the petnames he has for you is very classic (ex. baby, babe and sugar are his favorites).

Pretty strong relationship, however he is prone to have an affair, so take that what you will. 7/10 just because he's hot.

Jotaro Kujo

He's a tough cookie, alright. Honestly, it was a bit of a shock for anyone to see Jotaro act so... soft around somebody.

Part 3 Jotaro would take his time to really warm up to you, as long as you're patient with him and know that he can rely on you, then he'd slowly lower his guard and the most you'll get from him is a little kiss on the cheek. Everybody would be surprised and wonder about how you manage to break this man.

Part 4 Jotaro is a way more mature, with some experience up his sleeve and a career that he could only dream of, he isn't necessarily shy to show his appreciation for you. He'll hug you and his words run a lot deeper than what he would've said if he was in highschool.

Part 6 Jotaro has no shame in calling you his, of course he isn't openly affectionate but behind closed doors he can be a little clingy. But because his job requires him to move a lot, he can be a bit neglectful.

Petnames that I could see him use are a lot more classic and sweet names (like honey or darling).

He still has some hiccups here and there but it could be worse. 6/10. He's trying.

Josuke Higashikata

In his own words, he's a very romantic type of lover and likes doing things the old-fashion way. He doesn't take you for granted, that's for certain.

Because of this, it means that he preferes a much more slow burn of a relationship with you. Expect to see him by your door with a bouquet of flowers just for you. Or how he always stays by your side, walking you home or accompanying you to the store. Sometimes it takes Okuyasu and Koichi to pull him away from being around you so much. Now he's the real loverboy.

He wears his heart on his sleeve and he's a pretty emotionally sensitive guy. He takes good care of himself and he likes to always look good for you, even when you tell him he's perfect no matter what. On date nights, he takes a lot longer to get ready than you, mostly for doing his hair to which he might even ask you to help.

Initiation goes both ways honestly, sometimes he's a little shy to ask for a kiss or to hold hands; Other times he's carrying you bridal style with Crazy Diamond behind him spewing all kinds of lovey dovey crap to defend in your honor.

Petnames he likes to use for you are really classy and unique (such as babe or lovebug).

Pretty good relationship status, I'd say he's second best because he cares and wants was best for you as well as wanting to just have fun. 9/10.

Giorno Giovanna

He's pretty reserved, it can take a bit for him to open up about himself and especially with you since you are his partner. I like to think Giorno has little experience, sure he has a lot of charisma and it's easy for him to use that charm to get what he wants but when has he ever actually been on a date before? Be in a relationship, for that matter? Probably nothing as as serious as the relationship he's with you now.

Which leaves room for him to learn more personal and intimate affections that casual flings won't happen, like discussing the future and actually expressing how much you love each other.

He's gentle with you and surprisingly obedient. He has a heart of gold, yet mischief lies behind those eyes of his that leaves you a giggling mess. His sense of rebellion keeps you up on your toes and yet he was always so gentle with you.

He can be surprisingly pretty protective and almost terretorial for you, always having you behind him of all cause and his hands always seem to gravitate towards your hips just to keep you close.

Once he's mob, leader of them all, Giorno then he'll make sure to spoil you with everything and anything you want.

Petnames that he likes to use for you are sweet and sincere italian nicknames (like caro/cara or bello/bella).

He really cares and he shows that he cares, despite setting his priorities over you at times, you'll always matter to him. 8/10.

Jolyne Cujoh

She definitely warms up to you quicker once you've gained her trust, using any excuse to wrap herself around your arm and is at your side at all times. She can be pretty clingy, being away from you for so long is straight up torture for her.

No literally, everything about her softens whenever she's near you just from how soft her voice gets or how gentle she is with her touches.

Initiation goes both way, though she catches you off guard and at times she gets a little too bold; Not like you're one to complain.

She's an experimental lover, she isn't one to really turn down the adventures you have planned. And I mean that in more ways that one.

She knows that she can be a bit complicated and all she wants is someone who is willing to fight at her side and someone to rely on, much like her dad.

Of course, don't take yourself too seriously, she still likes to have fun and mess around.

Petnames she likes to use are things like babe, baby, and cutie.

Overall, 9/10 relationship! It isn't perfect but she's a lovergirl and if she trusts you enough, she'll swoon over you.

Johnny Joestar

Definitely likes teasing and making a mockery out of you but it's all for love, it's really nothing personal.

Is also the type to be a little clingy, though he likes to deny it from time to time and uses an excuse that he was just worried for you. Honestly, he just wants to be understood and you're one of the few that listens to him.

At first he may seem a bit closed off, but he really likes the attention you give him and honestly he'd be upset if you weren't as affectionate. Thats why he prefers it whenever you take the initiation, he likes being caught off guard and pampered with kisses. But don't worry, he has some tricks up his sleeves as well and he'll return the favor.

I'd like to think that he was still raised to be at least a bit respectful, though that certaintly backfired since he can be a bit of a jerk. Though, not towards you, he has a soft spot for you and doesn't see you as some rich person who he sleeps with when he was at his prime.

Some petnames I could see him use is along the names like Sweetheart, Honey and Dear if he's feeling extra affectionate.

8/10 , he likes to put an image that he's tough but with you around he acts soft.

Josuke Higashikata (Gappy)

You are his everything and he loves you so much, he just likes to express it a little differently. His main priority is to retrieve his memory back and trying to figure out who he is, but in the process of that he turns to you because you are one of the few people that truly understands him.

He doesn't know what he wants or how he is, he was drawn towards you because you're nice to him and is willing to help him out of his situation.

You had to do most of the initiation, he's a little clueless and oblivious to your advances unless you're really direct with it and let him know what you want or what you're gonna do. If you're gonna kiss him, tell him that and he'll close his eyes and pucker his lips just for you to take the intiative to lean in and lock lips.

He loves hugs, being embraced by you calms him down and puts him at ease. Sometimes he thinks a little too much or thinks of nothing at all, only to be reminded that you're still with him and he appreciates you for it. He cries just a little and you poke fun of him for that, just for him to say that he wasn't crying at all (he is).

As for petnames, I can only really see him just call your name.

7/10 , He doesn't know what the hell is going on but he knows for sure that he likes you and we'll do everything in his power to keep you from harm.

Jodio Joestar

A somewhat stereotypical, awkward, highschool relationship where you both have no idea what you're doing but holding hands for some reason is such a big deal.

He's kinda a loser, perhaps you don't say it out loud but because of his inexperience to talking with anyone or being in a relationship in general, he lacks the ability to muster up the courage to do anything further than just hand holding and hugging. So when you surprise him with a kiss, he kinda just stands there with a blush before resorting to just expressing how cool he is (he's freaking out).

The money that he gets from selling drugs and getting himself into trouble, he'd use some of that up to buy something nice for you or at least something that reminde him of you.

Sometime's he's a little mean, a bit of a jerk at times but you learn to bring him back and help him keep his cool. He just likes to run his mouth and at times it can get the both of you in trouble. A little kiss or squeeze of his hand will instantly shut him up.

Petnames he likes to use are a bit obnoxious just to make everyone around him annoyed. So something like babe, honey and baby.

7/10 , you're both young and dumb and its not perfect and yes theres ups and downs but at the end of the day.

#jjba #jjba fluff #jojo bizarre adventure #fluff #gappy higashikata #giorno giovanna #jodio joestar #johnny joestar #jonathan joestar #joseph joestar #jotaro kujo #jolyne cujoh #josuke higashikata #gappy x reader #giorno x reader #jodio x reader #jolyne x reader #josuke x reader #joseph joestar x reader #jonathan joestar x reader #jotaro x reader #kittwix reactions #kittwix drabbles #kittwix sfw #kittwix-jjba-reactions #kittwix-jjba-drabbles

[macherie-cola]

The best part about me crushing on Aphelios is that I can obsess over him like I used to do with kpop idols without having to worry about them making me heartbroken in two very different ways but still heartbroken nonetheless because hes not real and hes always happy and perfect in my eyes

though then i get sad over the fact that he isnt real

#totally not naming any names with the last part #*cough cough* #oneus… #man remember when i was fangirling over them what an era that was #aphelios #heartsteel #i can be delulu about them without the consequences of them being real people i am being delulu about #(and then cry over the fact that they arent real people lol) #and uhh..astro with moonbin #seriously rest in peace #astro are the forst kpop group i ever stanned and they are very special to me

[ratgingi]

oh yea behold coras living room via my incredible image making skills

#realistically i couldve absolutely made this better but like. im not putting any more effort into it than i already did #funfact that one poster on the far right is just the image for a movie i found while uhhhhh doing totally legal things #its 'i scream when i knew what you did in friday the 13th of last summer part 2: i saw the hour of the return of the revenge in halloween' #its name was so fucking funny to me when i found it that i really wanted to include it here #dialogue #jack dlc

[k1rishiki]

ok fr last one but there's actually a bootleg of my school's anastasia and i'm linking it bc you all NEED to understand that my infatuation with this one girl's voice which started when i was in the 6th grade and still hasn't really worn off isn't based on nothing

#brielle's the one in the n95 mask (the video is too grainy to actually make out any of the ensemble's faces but she stands out) #and i'm the in my 'teenage tboy's diy first short haircut' era in every scene she's in #apart from everything abt the girl who plays anya. the tea on everyone else is that our director liked the boy who played gleb's voice so #much that she actually lowered some if not all of his parts to be in his range. the guy who played vlad was a total diva and uhm. the phras #'peaked in high school' has been tossed around at him a lot. and the fact that he came back to sub the year after he graduated isn't helpin #his case. also he pressured the girl who played anya's grandmother into wearing old age makeup + spray her hair grey bc he decided he was #going to wear it and since she's supposed to be older than him she had to too and used to waltz into the girls' changing room whenever he #wanted. everyone was like super shocked during auditions though bc we all thought he was a shoe-in for dimitry esp since seniors get #priority casting bc it's their last chance. but at callbacks (we had singing auditions via video and dance auditions in person and callback #were tacked on to the dance auditions) he kinda flubbed his song and then this freshman. who was with us via google meet bc he literally ha #covid at the time absolutely blew him out of the water and i remember walking away w brielle like 'holy shit [first name] [last name] just #lost a part to a freshman' (he's the kind of person you just have to full name otherwise it sounds wrong). that said i do think he made a #much better vlad then he would've made a dimitry and while he is. a lot. he's always been nice to me and i did briefly idolize him and his #stage presence way i did anya's singing voice but that faded when i got into hs and started actually observing his prima donna ways #(the one production we were in together before in middle school we didn't have any scenes together). the girl who played the grandma #actually shouted me out in cast circle and that's the only time that's ever happened to me. also i'm p sure her dad is/was dating someone m #dad and by extension myself work with so that's. Oh My God. like she (the one who works for my dad) brought him w her to a comedy show as i #think her bf but i'm not 100% sure and when he found out what school i went to he mentioned his daughter went there and despite the fact #that i basically have a script for when people ask me that question bc i do NOT pay attention to most of my fellow students and don't know #anyone i was like 'holy shit' bc i actually did. hm what else. the guy who played the tsar and i used to shittalk bad period dramas #backstage during the first part of act 2. also during the press conference scene i need you to picture all the bolshevik soldiers and #romanov royals doing the macarena behind the curtain bc that was absolutely what we were doing back there. speaking of the press conference #the really high singing w/o a clear source was actually anya standing behind the curtain on the other side of the stage bc she's the only #one who physically could sing the part. also in regards to the bolshevik soldiers. we were originally supposed to have wooden rifles but fo #some reason our director took them out so we had to just walk menacingly towards the romanovs. you can't rlly see me that well in that scen #but that jacket would NOT stay closed and for 2/3 performances i had to awkwardly hold it closed the entire time. luckily the one that was #filmed was the one where i was smart enough to bring safety pins and also saved like all of the ballerinas bc their costumes all started #falling apart at once backstage. #romeo.txt #theatreposting

[01tsubomi]

i. guess the reason i watched so much trashy anime in high school was bc i watched so much anime in the first place. and if you wanna watch shows about high schoolers then eventually you’re gonna have to watch the trashy stuff (not to mention i like girls sooooo so so much). but i wanted to watch something romance-y and rompy so i’m watching rent-a-girlfriend bc i’ve heard good things abt it being fun and an interesting look at relationships and pretending and satisfaction etc and i’ll give it and my high school self credit in that this is super fun. unfortunately though so far any interesting commentary it could be giving through all the different times of girls in its cast is super overshadowed by how badly it wants you to hate every single girl except the main one

#i also just read jessica jung's second book the other day and the first one was questionable but this one was literally just the story #of how she got booted out of girls generation with like changed names #literally 10000% undeniably just her telling her story in a really one-sided way where you're supposed to hate everyone but her #and i hate to brush it off like that bc i'm sure some of the stuff she puts her self insert through happened and that does suck #management turning their back on her and everything #but the girls who are so obviously supposed to be the rest of snsd in the book are not given any forgiveness or any grace or agency #literally they're just flat and mean and jealous of how the protag can't do anything but win #so you come out of it feeling like you know what jessica the only person you're making me resent here is you #bc there's no way a situation could be that black and white and there's no way that 8 real people could be that flat and cruel with no #motivation at all #anyway i'm thinking abt that bc this show is also like really dead-set on making every other girl horrible so you'll like the main one #and the worst part is i love the main one! she's so male gaze-y but she's so likable and nice and she like has feelings and boundaries #only so much agency in a story like this but she does get at least some #the rest of the girls have to be like totally fake and cruel-hearted or obnoxiously unable to take a hint #and it's like dude we get it you don't actually like women. you could show it a little less #and then the story would be so much more interesting because you'd actually be talking about like people and emotions #instead of weird cardboard cutouts that are getting in the way of our main couple #i'm exaggerating a little bc i did watch bunny girl senpai as it aired and then rewatched it last year #and that's also pretty trashy but it definitely cares about its girls more #so a step up from this. this one is fun though #personal

[yeoldenews]

A Guide to Historically Accurate Regency-Era Names

I recently received a message from a historical romance writer asking if I knew any good resources for finding historically accurate Regency-era names for their characters.

Not knowing any off the top of my head, I dug around online a bit and found there really isn’t much out there. The vast majority of search results were Buzzfeed-style listicles which range from accurate-adjacent to really, really, really bad.

I did find a few blog posts with fairly decent name lists, but noticed that even these have very little indication as to each name’s relative popularity as those statistical breakdowns really don't exist.

I began writing up a response with this information, but then I (being a research addict who was currently snowed in after a blizzard) thought hey - if there aren’t any good resources out there why not make one myself?

As I lacked any compiled data to work from, I had to do my own data wrangling on this project. Due to this fact, I limited the scope to what I thought would be the most useful for writers who focus on this era, namely - people of a marriageable age living in the wealthiest areas of London.

So with this in mind - I went through period records and compiled the names of 25,000 couples who were married in the City of Westminster (which includes Mayfair, St. James and Hyde Park) between 1804 to 1821.

So let’s see what all that data tells us…

To begin - I think it’s hard for us in the modern world with our wide and varied abundance of first names to conceive of just how POPULAR popular names of the past were.

If you were to take a modern sample of 25-year-old (born in 1998) American women, the most common name would be Emily with 1.35% of the total population. If you were to add the next four most popular names (Hannah, Samantha, Sarah and Ashley) these top five names would bring you to 5.5% of the total population. (source: Social Security Administration)

If you were to do the same survey in Regency London - the most common name would be Mary with 19.2% of the population. Add the next four most popular names (Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah and Jane) and with just 5 names you would have covered 62% of all women.

To hit 62% of the population in the modern survey it would take the top 400 names.

The top five Regency men’s names (John, William, Thomas, James and George) have nearly identical statistics as the women’s names.

I struggled for the better part of a week with how to present my findings, as a big list in alphabetical order really fails to get across the popularity factor and also isn’t the most tumblr-compatible format. And then my YouTube homepage recommended a random video of someone ranking all the books they’d read last year - and so I present…

The Regency Name Popularity Tier List

The Tiers

S+ - 10% of the population or greater. There is no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. 52% of the population had one of these 7 names.

S - 2-10%. There is still no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. Names in this percentage range in the past have included Mary and William in the 1880s and Jennifer in the late 1970s (topped out at 4%).

A - 1-2%. The top five modern names usually fall in this range. Kids with these names would probably include their last initial in class to avoid confusion. (1998 examples: Emily, Sarah, Ashley, Michael, Christopher, Brandon.)

B - .3-1%. Very common names. Would fall in the top 50 modern names. You would most likely know at least 1 person with these names. (1998 examples: Jessica, Megan, Allison, Justin, Ryan, Eric)

C - .17-.3%. Common names. Would fall in the modern top 100. You would probably know someone with these names, or at least know of them. (1998 examples: Chloe, Grace, Vanessa, Sean, Spencer, Seth)

D - .06-.17%. Less common names. In the modern top 250. You may not personally know someone with these names, but you’re aware of them. (1998 examples: Faith, Cassidy, Summer, Griffin, Dustin, Colby)

E - .02-.06%. Uncommon names. You’re aware these are names, but they are not common. Unusual enough they may be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Calista, Skye, Precious, Fabian, Justice, Lorenzo)

F - .01-.02%. Rare names. You may have heard of these names, but you probably don’t know anyone with one. Extremely unusual, and would likely be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Emerald, Lourdes, Serenity, Dario, Tavian, Adonis)

G - Very rare names. There are only a handful of people with these names in the entire country. You’ve never met anyone with this name.

H - Virtually non-existent. Names that theoretically could have existed in the Regency period (their original source pre-dates the early 19th century) but I found fewer than five (and often no) period examples of them being used in Regency England. (Example names taken from romance novels and online Regency name lists.)

Just to once again reinforce how POPULAR popular names were before we get to the tier lists - statistically, in a ballroom of 100 people in Regency London: 80 would have names from tiers S+/S. An additional 15 people would have names from tiers A/B and C. 4 of the remaining 5 would have names from D/E. Only one would have a name from below tier E.

Women's Names

S+ Mary, Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah      

S - Jane, Mary Ann+, Hannah, Susannah, Margaret, Catherine, Martha, Charlotte, Maria

A - Frances, Harriet, Sophia, Eleanor, Rebecca

B - Alice, Amelia, Bridget~, Caroline, Eliza, Esther, Isabella, Louisa, Lucy, Lydia, Phoebe, Rachel, Susan

C - Ellen, Fanny*, Grace, Henrietta, Hester, Jemima, Matilda, Priscilla

D - Abigail, Agnes, Amy, Augusta, Barbara, Betsy*, Betty*, Cecilia, Christiana, Clarissa, Deborah, Diana, Dinah, Dorothy, Emily, Emma, Georgiana, Helen, Janet^, Joanna, Johanna, Judith, Julia, Kezia, Kitty*, Letitia, Nancy*, Ruth, Winifred>

E - Arabella, Celia, Charity, Clara, Cordelia, Dorcas, Eve, Georgina, Honor, Honora, Jennet^, Jessie*^, Joan, Joyce, Juliana, Juliet, Lavinia, Leah, Margery, Marian, Marianne, Marie, Mercy, Miriam, Naomi, Patience, Penelope, Philadelphia, Phillis, Prudence, Rhoda, Rosanna, Rose, Rosetta, Rosina, Sabina, Selina, Sylvia, Theodosia, Theresa

F - (selected) Alicia, Bethia, Euphemia, Frederica, Helena, Leonora, Mariana, Millicent, Mirah, Olivia, Philippa, Rosamund, Sybella, Tabitha, Temperance, Theophila, Thomasin, Tryphena, Ursula, Virtue, Wilhelmina

G - (selected) Adelaide, Alethia, Angelina, Cassandra, Cherry, Constance, Delilah, Dorinda, Drusilla, Eva, Happy, Jessica, Josephine, Laura, Minerva, Octavia, Parthenia, Theodora, Violet, Zipporah

H - Alberta, Alexandra, Amber, Ashley, Calliope, Calpurnia, Chloe, Cressida, Cynthia, Daisy, Daphne, Elaine, Eloise, Estella, Lilian, Lilias, Francesca, Gabriella, Genevieve, Gwendoline, Hermione, Hyacinth, Inez, Iris, Kathleen, Madeline, Maude, Melody, Portia, Seabright, Seraphina, Sienna, Verity

Men's Names

S+ John, William, Thomas

S - James, George, Joseph, Richard, Robert, Charles, Henry, Edward, Samuel

A - Benjamin, (Mother’s/Grandmother’s maiden name used as first name)#

B - Alexander^, Andrew, Daniel, David>, Edmund, Francis, Frederick, Isaac, Matthew, Michael, Patrick~, Peter, Philip, Stephen, Timothy

C - Abraham, Anthony, Christopher, Hugh>, Jeremiah, Jonathan, Nathaniel, Walter

D - Adam, Arthur, Bartholomew, Cornelius, Dennis, Evan>, Jacob, Job, Josiah, Joshua, Lawrence, Lewis, Luke, Mark, Martin, Moses, Nicholas, Owen>, Paul, Ralph, Simon

E - Aaron, Alfred, Allen, Ambrose, Amos, Archibald, Augustin, Augustus, Barnard, Barney, Bernard, Bryan, Caleb, Christian, Clement, Colin, Duncan^, Ebenezer, Edwin, Emanuel, Felix, Gabriel, Gerard, Gilbert, Giles, Griffith, Harry*, Herbert, Humphrey, Israel, Jabez, Jesse, Joel, Jonas, Lancelot, Matthias, Maurice, Miles, Oliver, Rees, Reuben, Roger, Rowland, Solomon, Theophilus, Valentine, Zachariah

F - (selected) Abel, Barnabus, Benedict, Connor, Elijah, Ernest, Gideon, Godfrey, Gregory, Hector, Horace, Horatio, Isaiah, Jasper, Levi, Marmaduke, Noah, Percival, Shadrach, Vincent

G - (selected) Albion, Darius, Christmas, Cleophas, Enoch, Ethelbert, Gavin, Griffin, Hercules, Hugo, Innocent, Justin, Maximilian, Methuselah, Peregrine, Phineas, Roland, Sebastian, Sylvester, Theodore, Titus, Zephaniah

H - Albinus, Americus, Cassian, Dominic, Eric, Milo, Rollo, Trevor, Tristan, Waldo, Xavier

# Men were sometimes given a family surname (most often their mother's or grandmother's maiden name) as their first name - the most famous example of this being Fitzwilliam Darcy. If you were to combine all surname-based first names as a single 'name' this is where the practice would rank.

*Rank as a given name, not a nickname

+If you count Mary Ann as a separate name from Mary - Mary would remain in S+ even without the Mary Anns included

~Primarily used by people of Irish descent

^Primarily used by people of Scottish descent

>Primarily used by people of Welsh descent

I was going to continue on and write about why Regency-era first names were so uniform, discuss historically accurate surnames, nicknames, and include a little guide to finding 'unique' names that are still historically accurate - but this post is already very, very long, so that will have to wait for a later date.

If anyone has any questions/comments/clarifications in the meantime feel free to message me.

Methodology notes: All data is from marriage records covering six parishes in the City of Westminster between 1804 and 1821. The total sample size was 50,950 individuals.

I chose marriage records rather than births/baptisms as I wanted to focus on individuals who were adults during the Regency era rather than newborns. I think many people make the mistake when researching historical names by using baby name data for the year their story takes place rather than 20 to 30 years prior, and I wanted to avoid that. If you are writing a story that takes place in 1930 you don’t want to research the top names for 1930, you need to be looking at 1910 or earlier if you are naming adult characters.

I combined (for my own sanity) names that are pronounced identically but have minor spelling differences: i.e. the data for Catherine also includes Catharines and Katherines, Susannah includes Susannas, Phoebe includes Phebes, etc.

The compound 'Mother's/Grandmother's maiden name used as first name' designation is an educated guesstimate based on what I recognized as known surnames, as I do not hate myself enough to go through 25,000+ individuals and confirm their mother's maiden names. So if the tally includes any individuals who just happened to be named Fitzroy/Hastings/Townsend/etc. because their parents liked the sound of it and not due to any familial relations - my bad.

I did a small comparative survey of 5,000 individuals in several rural communities in Rutland and Staffordshire (chosen because they had the cleanest data I could find and I was lazy) to see if there were any significant differences between urban and rural naming practices and found the results to be very similar. The most noticeable difference I observed was that the S+ tier names were even MORE popular in rural areas than in London. In Rutland between 1810 and 1820 Elizabeths comprised 21.4% of all brides vs. 15.3% in the London survey. All other S+ names also saw increases of between 1% and 6%. I also observed that the rural communities I surveyed saw a small, but noticeable and fairly consistent, increase in the use of names with Biblical origins.

Sources of the records I used for my survey: 

Ancestry.com. England & Wales Marriages, 1538-1988 [database on-line].

Ancestry.com. Westminster, London, England, Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1935 [database on-line].

#history #regency #1800s #1810s #names #london #writing resources #regency romance #jane austen #bridgerton #bridgerton would be an exponentially better show if daphne's name was dorcas #behold - the reason i haven't posted in three weeks

[fazcinatingblog]

My resignation letter will contain a list of all the times stuff was done for clients and i "forgot" to include an invoice

#with a total at the bottom #my one weakness #actually I'm sure my boss could find twenty more reasons to hate me when i go #also just a disclaimer I'm not resigning and I'm not planning it but you gotta think ahead to these things #parting letters and gifts are important #just a little note left on her pillow 'I'm out' #The last straw was hiring two bookkeepers and starting them on the same day #i can't even train one person let alone two more!!!!!!!!! #what if these new guys are just clones of the current new guy????? #WHAT IF I HATE ALL THREE OF THEM #also what do i call the current new guy when he's not the newest guy any more????? do i have to learn his name?????? #i can't learn names #i learnt 27 names of all the ones who have left and my brain is fried #that's too many names #One of them had the same name as my boss #it's too much

[ravens-two]

PAC: Your First Time With Your Person 18+

This reading includes:

how your first time will be like w/ your person

where and how it might happen

The extended reading includes:

what you will think about it

what your person will think about it

Disclaimer: this is just for entertainment purposes, and as a pick-a-card reading it may not resonate for everyone. Also, this content is 18+ only!

TIPS | BOOK A READING WITH ME | PATREON | LINKTREE | SUGGEST A PAC TOPIC

Pile 1

Emperor rx, Two of Pentacles rx, Tower, Chariot | Sun god

"Come all, come now; expand into the skies and into the shadows below."

Hi pile 1, the energy here is very very masculine and dominant. I feel like most of you will be the more submissive energy so I'm going to focus on that for the reading, but please switch it around if you feel like it applies better to you that way. Anyhow, there isn't any switching or "equality" here, this is straight up power exchange energy. You are giving in to your person, letting them do whatever they want with you, complete surrender. This isn't scary for you though, you are doing this because you trust them completely and know they will take care of you. Honestly, despite this whole power play thing (I'm even seeing some manhandling) the sex will be super loving. I truly don't see it being rough or your person calling you names or anything like that. It's like they want to make love to you, they want to make sure that every single one of your needs is taken care of, but they don't want you to lift a finger. Just lay there and let them make you feel good, basically. Ooof, your person isn't shy about what they want, pile 1.

I think that this might happen either during the day or you will go all night long until sunrise (I think that for most of you it's the later). I also get the feeling that this will happen during spring/summer, or on a nice weather day. For most of you this is also happening in a bedroom. The energy I'm getting is that you and your person will want complete privacy and knowing that you have the time to do whatever you two want. For a smaller part of you this might begin in the car and then you move to the bedroom. The energy here is very explosive, it's like at first you're not really sure if you want to do this now, but then all of a sudden you can't think about anything else. I think that you'll be trying to convince yourself not do it at first for whatever reason.

I can't stop hearing the song "You Shook Me All Night Long" by AC/DC, so this is some more confirmation that the sex is going to last awhile. Honestly, you should check out this song's lyrics if you aren't familiar, because I feel like it's totally the vibe of your first time with your person. They are crazy about you, pile 1, like crazy crazy. They have wanted to do this for a long time.

Also, let me warn you to make sure you're protected if you can get pregnant! Like, pregnancy is the energy here so be careful if that's a possibility for you. Not to be too explicit, but I'm also seeing a lot of fluids and playing with them, so make of that what you will. Also, if your person is a man he is BIG.

I think that some of you have like a daddy kink or authority figure kink and it's something that it will come into play as well. I think that they'll enjoy it very much as well. There's multiple orgasms here, and I think that you'll be coming very fast and very hard. It will be earth-shattering. For some of you I'm also seeing that the man might finish first - for some it might be a bit disappointing, but your person will make it up to you; for others though I think that it's because you're starting with oral first. Also, if you have breasts they love playing with your breasts, or maybe it's playing with nipples in general. But, yeah this will start with a lot of foreplay and then you guys will have multiple rounds.

Pile 2

Eight of Wands, Ace of Wands, Nine of Pentacles, Fool | Maiden

"Demand what is yours and take back what was taken. Reclaim until you've gathered all of you."

Pile 2, hi! The first thing I'm getting from this pile is that this will be your first time having sex. If this doesn't apply to you, it might be your first time having sex after a long pause or the first time having sex with someone of a certain gender, but if neither applies it might be that this pile isn't for you. I think that for most people this is about losing their virginity, though. No matter the case, I think that this will be really lovely. Your person will make you feel like a god/dess. There's a lot of passion here.

Just like pile 1, I think that this will happen in a "safe" setting, most likely in your bedroom or your person's bedroom. I think that this place has a feeling of luxury to it, even if it isn't exactly luxurious if that makes sense. Basically, it's very tidy, well organized, beautifully decorated, you feel welcome and relaxed in this place. I'm actually seeing a fur rug and throw blankets on a bed, so really comfy. I think that for most of you this isn't planned. I think that it just kind of happens that you have your person over or that you are at their place and then they do something that just makes you think "that's it, I need them". I get this feeling that you just suddenly realize how much you love and trust in this person so you try to initiate. I see you being a bit awkward at first, but you'll find your footing quickly. Before anything happens though I see you making out with your person and feeling each other up for a long time, then your person will ask you if you're really sure about that and then all hell breaks lose.

I think that you have a lot of pent up energy and desire and you want to get it out as quickly as possible, but your person will take over a little bit and slow you down. For one, they know that it might be a big mistake to rush you, but also they want to be thorough with it. This person wants to get to know every single inch of you, they want to know what you like, what you love, what you don't care for. They want to explore your body and consume you. It's like body worship really. It's like they don't want you to think about anything else, but their body on yours. (I also get the vibe that some of you are very anxious or over thinkers and your person really wants to make sure that you're grounded for once). I also get this vibe that your person thinks that you're a bit of a brat, in the best way possible though. I see them laughing as they say that.

Just like pile 1, please make sure to use protection if there's any possibility of a pregnancy. I think that there will be a lot of foreplay and you'll be having at least one or two orgasms before penetration (also if your person is a man I think that they're bigger than average). Your person really wants you to feel good. I don't see you having multiple rounds because I think that you're going to be exhausted pile 2. Maybe the next day, though. Afterwards you're just going to cuddle with your person and have some aftercare. And, also let me tell you that you person is amazing with aftercare they're just so loving and gentle, not wanting you to move a finger and making sure that you're completely taken care of. They may bring you some food and drinks and then tell you to take a nap.

I think that you'll be a bit transformed by this first time. It might be a bit different for everyone and that's why I can't really see how. But it will change the way you view yourself, your sexuality and even your person. I think that it will help you to bond even more with your person.

Pile 3

Lovers, Ten of Pentacles, Temperance, Queen of Pentacles | Self-worship

"My hands fold as I speak to the stars, watching as the sky holds its breath. It's in stillness that I find all that I am and all of divinity within me."

Pile 3, this is probably the most romantic pile here and honestly that's saying something because they've all been super sweet. But this is 100% old-fashioned romance. I can actually see it very clearly that you're going out with your person, maybe out to dinner at a fancy or fancier place and then going either to a hotel or to one of your places to continue the night. This is the only pile that I see going to a hotel actually. But, your person will give you flowers, I think that it will be red roses for most of you (a classic of course), but for others it will be a bit more personalized, like let's say that you love tulips then that's what your person will get you. I actually just heard that your person wants to wine you and dine you and in more than one way lmao. They're funny.

For this pile I think that you have been dating this person for a while, but you're taking things slow. I just get the feeling that you two really love each other - deeply - and you know each other well. This doesn't feel like something that would happen after two or three dates. You might actually know this person before you start dating too. Anyway, as I was saying this is old-fashioned romance. I see candles and rose petals on the bed. Some of you might actually start by taking a bath together or giving a massage to one another. I just see it being very sensual, but calm. You're not rushing here, you both clearly want this, but you know that you have time and it feels so much better to draw it out like this. You're like the third pile where I have to say this, but use protection if you can pregnant! Y'all are very fertile.

I think that you're going to start with oral, and for some of you there's even 69ing here. I'm also seeing lots of fluids here. Like, even your bodies are wet with sweat or from your bath or massage. But this feels very wet, let's put it like that. With the Lovers and Temperance here this is such more than sex for you guys. It's truly like two people becoming one, body and soul. I don't see you two talking much, it's like you don't need to, the connection between you two is so powerful and so deep it's almost magical. There's lots of hand-holding, gazing into each others eyes, holding each other close. It's so, so sweet. I think that you might tear up from emotion, from how much you love them. When it comes to positions I see you guys sitting, cowgirl and missionary. But, basically, it will be whatever can give you as much closeness as possible. I also see you person holding your face, like cradling your head and running their hands through your hair.

Honestly, this will be transcendental for you guys, you might even get like an out of body experience when you orgasm. It will be very very intense. I see some of you describing it as almost being a religious experience. I see that some of you will be squirting for the first time, so that might also be intense. This is just for a few of you I think, but you might have sex in front of a mirror or they might start it by touching you in front of a mirror. Almost being like "do you see how beautiful you are?", etc, that sort of thing. The aftercare will also be very sweet, and I see you being so in love with each other afterwards. Just talking and holding each other until you fall asleep.

Pile 4

Two of Swords, Knight of Pentacles, Four of Wands rx, Three of Wands | The lovers

"Love lulls all sorrow and bewitches flesh, mind and breath, reminding me that I am unafraid of the unfurling winds of my eternity."

Pile 4, this is the most negative pile out of them all. I'm really sorry for that. I would much prefer that they were all amazing and without any problems. I don't think that it's anything serious, but it will vary from person to person. Most of all, what I feel in this pile is anxiety and almost not feeling comfortable in your body. I think that some people here have sexual trauma, relationship trauma, or even body trauma. There might even have some eating disorders in this pile. No matter what it is and no matter the seriousness of the situation, it has left you uncomfortable with your body and with sex. So, I feel like most of you are going into this with a lot of anxiety. It's almost like you want this but you don't at the same time. I'm getting a very specific message that it's only meant for a couple of you: you might have sex with a stranger or hook-up with someone (basically something you wouldn't normally do) just to prove to yourself that you can. It's almost like you're trying to do exposure therapy to yourself. Now, I'm not saying if it's right or wrong, it's not my place to judge really, but just be careful.

For most of you though, this is happening with a partner. I think that you're going to be a bit unsure at the beginning, you want to want it, but you're not really there yet. Your partner is going to be incredible here, because they're going to move really slowly to get you as comfortable as possible and stopping to see if you're alright. I see them showering you with affection and basically praising you to the heavens. They're going to be super careful with touching you, up to a point where it almost annoys you and then you start to become more active let's say. I think that you're going to take charge of the situation at a certain point and guide your partner on how you need it. And honestly I think that they're very much into it.

Throughout the whole thing you're a bit self-conscious. I think that you might be suffering from low self-esteem and you're not entirely comfortable with your body and how you look. This might mean that you have sex basically in the dark, with very little light to make you comfortable. I don't think that this is happening in your house, so that adds a little bit to your anxiety, because you're in an unfamiliar place. I can't get much more information about it, it's almost like your person is trying to protect you and your privacy which is really sweet.

However, I see that you will be left very satisfied at the end lol. Not only that though, you will be feeling much more confident in yourself and your sexuality. I'm seeing you feeling so sexy at the end. It's probably because of your partner too. They'll be like "do you see what you did to me?" and completely disheveled, and you'll be like "oh shit". This will be a turning point for you. I'm really happy for you, pile 4! When it comes to your relationship it will also be taking it to the next level, not just intimacy-wise, but also in the trust that you have in each other.

#pick a card #pac reading #tarot reading #tarot #pac #pick a pile #fs pick a pile #18+ pac

[tyunni]

┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)

enhypen masterlist | library

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+

a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭

☆ — LEE HEESEUNG

who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.

your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.

so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.

it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.

(rest of the members under the cut!!)

☆ — PARK JONGSEONG

jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.

"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."

ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.

"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.

"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"

but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.

☆ — SIM JAEYUN

oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.

you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.

"jake, i'm drunk!"

and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.

sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.

you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:

"fuck, i love her, don't i?"

☆ — PARK SUNGHOON

sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.

"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"

to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.

"you look beautiful, y/n."

"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"

sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.

"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"

☆ — KIM SUNOO

sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.

it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.

sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.

you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.

so you avoid him.

but he somehow still finds his way back to you.

"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.

"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.

one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"

sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"

sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"

"... is it?"

you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.

☆ — YANG JUNGWON

jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?

"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.

you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.

"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.

your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"

his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.

"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."

it's over. he's a goner.

the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.

"sure, i'd love to!"

it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.

☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI

riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...

"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!

his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.

"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.

you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.

"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"

he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.

"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.

"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.

"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.

riki never knew he could like ducks this much.

©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!

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#klabels #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #heeseung x reader #jay x reader #jay park x reader #jake x reader #jaeyun x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #ni-ki x reader #riki x reader #niki x reader #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha headcanons #enha reactions #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enhypen soft hours #enha

[yanaromanov]

my sweet assistant

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: you take a position in assisting professor romanoff after classes to make up for a missed assignment. your flustered state only continues as you’re forced to spend one-on-one time with her, even more so when her wife is introduced into the equation…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, minor death, funeral etc. minors dni

authors note: this took me a bit longer to write and release than i would have liked thanks to my broken arm and writers block so apologies for that. but even tho i kinda hate it, it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy! :)

part two of the inescapable love series

inescapable love series

･ ｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

11.5K words

People say life comes with its ups and downs, something you had come to learn was rather true, but why did it always seem the downs came at the worst of times? A call from your mother was never really a good sign to begin with, usually her nagging being the only thing waiting on the other end of the line, but this time when you picked up and heard what she had to say, not good turned to terribly bad. It wasn’t the extent of the problem as such that worried you, more so the timing. Your Russian class had an assignment coming up, due in less than a week, and thinking you had enough time to get round to it, you still hadn’t started. Something that would have been totally fine if not for your mom’s name popping up on your phone last night and sharing news that would throw your entire schedule off.

The way your mom had picked up the phone had immediately informed you something was wrong, but a death announcement was certainly the last thing you had been expecting to hear on a Sunday night. It was your grandmother, on your dad’s side. She’d passed away over the weekend, finally giving up on the hospice care she’d been dependent on for months. The news itself hadn’t been too much of a shock, the old woman’s health deteriorating for years, and it didn’t much upset you either. You’d never really been close to your grandmother, your brother being the one favoured from your family, keeping you distanced whenever you visited her house. Your teenage self had already mourned for the relationship you had never had and that felt more painful than the actual loss in front of you now.

The main thing concerning your mind now was how you were going to complete your assignment. On the phone, your mom had told you she’d already booked the flights for you coming home, prepared for the funeral just that week, a quick turn around due the arrangements been made in advance from the anticipation of her death. It would see you in England the entirety of the week, leaving tomorrow afternoon and not returning until late Friday evening. Even with the extra days you had at home, the funeral tea and family gatherings would no doubt leave you no time at all to complete your assignment.

You knew what you had to do now, had done it many times before for other classes, but something about this time felt more intimidating. As you sat in the lecture theatre, watching your professor teach at the front of the class, your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of asking for the extension. More time alone would have to be spent with your Russian professor, the last time still lingering unwanted in your mind. The thought of speaking to her one on one once more was enough to send your anxious mind into a frenzy.

Desperately, you tried to cling on to the reality of things as your lesson continued. It was the day of the week where your class would practice your Russian speaking, conversing with one another whilst Professor Romanoff would walk around, listening in and correcting any mispronunciations. In the end, it would build up to the speaking exam the end of semester held, a private conversation that each student would have with your professor which was then graded alongside your written tests.

The girl sat beside you had claimed the spot as your partner when the first speaking lesson had started up, thankfully not the same girl who’d passed you dirty looks after your perfectly scored paper. The two of you worked through the worksheet in front of you, sounding out the words and building them up into a conversation. Your partner seemed slower than you to grasp the concepts, but you found you didn’t quite mind, allowing your thoughts the moments in between to plan exactly how you’d make your request to Professor Romanoff.

When the class had finally drawn to a close, everyone began packing up their things, worksheets handed back down towards the front. Professor Romanoff stood against her desk, collecting papers as she shouted out across the clamouring hall. “Remember your assignment is due on Friday everyone. Do not use google translate. I can tell!”

It seemed your class wasn’t paying her announcement much notice, instead focused on making it out of the double doors and out into the corridor. Like you had done before, you packed away your things slowly, lingering in the row of seats until almost everyone had left the room. Only when the last few stragglers were close to the door, did you begin your descent towards the central desk. Professor Romanoff stood wiping clean the board once again, back facing you. This time, however, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. The woman’s face was slightly bewildered as she turned, melting away immediately as she spied you standing across the way, a smile appearing on her lips instead. “Miss Y/L/N,” she said, wiping the chalk dust away from her hands and turning back to close the distance between you. “Is everything alright?”

"Uhm, yes," you said nervously, watching as the woman came to stand in front of you. "Well...no, but-" You shook your head, attempting to dispel the anxious thoughts that clouded your brain. Fingers began to fidget as you looked back up at your professor with a nervous smile. "I was wondering if I could possibly get an extension for the assignment?" The redhead in front of you raised a single brow, looking inquisitive to your scenario and hence, drawing more of and explanation from your chest. "It's just my grandma passed away and I have to fly back to England for her funeral this week. I'm not going to be back till Friday night and with all the travelling and family stuff and jet lag, I probably won't have enough time to do it." Your hands gestured about, trying to find anything else to do rather than anxiously pick at your nail beds. "I don't need a long extension, maybe just till Monday? I can get it done over the weekend when I'm back."

The spill of words finally fell short in the silent room, your blurting echoing ever so slightly in the emptiness of the hall. Professor Romanoff stood in front of you, today wearing a matching black skirt and blazer, a white shirt neatly tucked in. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother." Your gaze raised up to the pair of green eyes as she spoke, a soft expression held between her features. "Are you doing alright?"

The question had came unexpectedly. You shook your head as you answered. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. "We were never close."

"Well," Professor Romanoff replied, gaze softening further. "I'm still sorry to hear about her." She passed you a gentle smile as she stepped towards her desk, leaning against the front of it like it seemed she had a habit of doing. When she looked back up at you, her expression had changed. "As for an extension..." Her emerald stare met yours, always seemingly able to make you shy away. "You're a good student Y/N, so I'd really like to say yes, but unfortunately I have a policy against extensions."

Your memory fleeted back to the first day of class, suddenly recalling the rules your professor had set out. Extensions would only be given to those with medical absence, provided they had a document signed by a health professional. Only remembering that now, you felt entirely stupid for asking for the extension in the first place. "That's right," you blurted. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot. Listen, forget I even said anything." You adjusted the straps of your backpack as you made to turn your body towards the door. "I'll try get it done on the plane or something. Thank you anyway."

You made it about three steps away before you heard your name being called out from behind you. Slowly, you turned your shoulders, looking back at the woman who still sat against her desk. "Yes, Miss Romanoff?" you called in response. A single manicured nail raised up, the finger curling to beckon you back in the direction you'd came. Biting down on the skin of your cheek, you turned fully, slowly closing the gap that had formed between you and your professor. When you stood in front of her again, you began to rub one of your arms nervously.

Professor Romanoff inclined her head towards you, a faint smile on her painted lips. "I can't give you an extension but I can offer you an alternative. Some extra credit that will cover the assignment, worth the same percentage of your grade. And I'll even give you the full marks."

Your head angled in both curiosity and uncertainty. The prospect of the extra credit sounded like just what you needed, but you couldn't quite grasp the notion that your professor was suggesting. "Full marks?" you asked. "As in, a hundred percent on the assignment?"

A painted smirk pulled at the corner of your professor's mouth, her body leaning ever so slightly closer to yours. "Don't act like it's such a miracle, sweetie. We both know what you're capable of, hm?"

As her words hit you, you could immediately feel the warmth they brought to your cheeks. Face feeling flushed, you tried to distract your brain, unfocusing on the perfect pair of lips still smirking in your direction. "What would I have to do for the extra credit?"

Professor Romanoff sighed, adjusting herself on the desk. You diverted your eyes as her arms crossed her body, once again pushing her slightly-revealed cleavage up against her chest. "Well, my assistant for this year pulled out on me last minute, which has left me just drowned in work." Green eyes met yours as a wide smile spread across the redhead's lips. "So, just give me a helping hand after class for a few weeks and the credit is all yours."

This proposal seemed almost too good to be true. Simply helping out your professor in turn for a perfect grade? It almost didn't seem fair. As you thought over her offer, the idea couldn't help but make you feel a little flustered. After all it would entail spending time alone with the red haired woman, something that seemed to leave you an oddly ruffled mess. But the entire thing sounded far too good to pass up, an opportunity practically laid out on a silver platter. Sounding easy enough to follow through with, you nodded your head with a smile. "Yeah, I can do that."

The smile on Professor Romanoff's face widened at your agreement. "Perfect," she said, green eyes glinting. "Can I see you back here next Monday? Say...three pm?"

You nodded once more. "Yeah. That works for me."

"Alright then," the redhead replied. She stood up from her desk, smiling down on you from the height accentuated by her heeled boots. "Don't you worry your pretty head about the assignment and I'll just see you here next week."

The words seemed to wash over you with a flush, something igniting inside that you couldn't quite put a finger on. Nervously, you looked to the floor, picking at the ends of your jumper while Professor Romanoff moved to stand behind her desk, seemingly unaware of your heightened nervousness. Before you could properly formulate a response, the other woman was already speaking once more. "Go on then. Don't want to be late for your next class do you?"

Her words seemed to shake you back to the present, that nervous little smile appearing on your face again. "Right," you said, adjusting your backpack. "Thank you, professor."

She smiled back at you. "It's no problem, honey. Now run along."

You found yourself nodding as you turned to leave, urged on by her commands. A few steps away she called out to you. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

You looked back over your shoulder, flashing a small smile. "I will Miss Romanoff. Thank you." And with that, you were walking out the door, headed towards your next class with you mind focused on what exactly your assistant duties with Professor Romanoff may entail.

———

"When are you back again?"

"Friday night. About nine-ish?"

You passed the raven-haired girl a quick glance over your shoulder as you continued to fold the items of clothing in your hand. A loud sigh filled the space as you heard Kate roll over in her bed, rustling the top of her sheets. "That's four whole days of you leaving me completely alone."

As you placed the last of your clothes into the open suitcase, you swiveled around to look at Kate. Your brow furrowed as you noticed your best friend sprawled dramatically across the covers. "Kate, you do realised we have other friends?" you replied with a soft sigh.

But it seemed the girl took no notice, throwing her hand up to cover her eyes as another noise of discomfort slipped from her lips. "I'm gonna look like such a loser at breakfast." The truth was that the pair of you did have more friends at university, with whom Kate could definitely speak to while you were away, despite how the majority of the time it was always just the two of you. This could be down to the fact you were the only ones still sharing a dorm on campus, most of your friends having moved out to apartments around the city. You and Kate had looked into that option but your loan wasn't enough to cover the rent, so you'd both settled to remain in the on-campus accommodation, still sharing your meals in the wide dining hall.

You sighed again. "I'm sorry my grandma dying is such an inconvenience to you." At that, Kate shot up in bed, immediately looking less irritated and instead concerned. The way you smiled playfully back at her, however, made her brows drop ever so slightly, the fear of her actions hurting you slipping away. You'd already told her you weren't all that bothered by the passing, more so annoyed by the bother of it all, but it seemed despite how dramatic she could be, Kate was still worried about your feelings. "Relax Bishop," you said, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "You know I'm kidding. I hate the fact I'm going just as much as you do." With all the hustle of trying to get through your work that day, you hadn't had much time to think about the reality of going home. Now packing your things, the dread of it all was beginning to settle on your shoulders. Still, you forced a smile on your lips as you walked across to Kate's bed, sitting yourself down next to her. "I'm sorry I'm leaving but I'll make it up to you, yeah?"

Just then, a spark seemed to light up in Kate's eyes. She turned to you, a wide smirk plastered on her lips. "Will you come to a party with me?" The proposal was one Kate often brought up, and one that was just as often shut down. Whenever Kate was getting ready to go out for a night, you were always cooped up in your textbooks, ignoring her complaints of how you studied too much and focusing instead on memorising every piece of material on the paper. For three years, your best friend has had to drag you to every party you'd ever been to, sometimes even snatching the book from your hands and then pleading you with puppy dog eyes. Those same eyes looked at you now, silently begging.

"Fine," you said finally, causing Kate to throw her hands up in the air. You raised your hand before her excitement could get out of hand. "But only one and not until after midterms."

The girl looked slightly disheartened but her smile still remained wide. "Fine," she replied, looking to already be planning the event she'd drag to you in a few weeks time. As Kate settled herself back in her bed, you stood to cross the room, returning to your almost-packed suitcase. You placed the last item in one side - a long black coat Kate had let you borrow to wear to the funeral - then zipped up the first half. All the other half was missing was your toiletries bag, of which would have to wait until the morning to be packed. As you were closing things up, you threw a comment to Kate over your shoulder. "I spoke to my Russian professor today about that extension for the assignment, remember?"

You heard Kate's head turn towards you, becoming distracted from her party planning. "Oh yeah, what'd she say?"

As the final zip on your suitcase closed, you turned back around to your best friend. "She doesn't really do extensions so she said I can help out after class instead to make up my grade."

Kate's brow furrowed. "What, like an assistant?"

"Yeah, exactly. Hers apparently dropped out so I'm filling in for a few weeks." You bent down to push your suitcase under your bed, ready to go tomorrow morning, then stood again, shrugging your shoulders. "She said she'll give me the equivalent of full marks for the assignment."

"Wait, what?" Kate shot up in bed, her jaw hanging slack. "You just help her plan a couple lessons and get a free ride to a perfect score?"

You breathed out a laugh, not only at Kate's theatric tone but also at the improbable truth of the scenario. It hadn't really hit you until now how easy you had it, an exceptional gateway to an easy 'A'. "Yeah," you giggled out, taking a seat on your bed. "I mean, she said I'm a good student so she expected me to do well anyway." You tried to ignore the strange tingle in your head as you recounted your professor's words, instead focusing on Kate who flung herself up in her bed.

"Dude," she said, looking at you incredulously. Her eyes shifted, looking down to the floor. "Maybe I should have taken Russian this year."

Another laugh spilled from your lips as you stood, closing the gap between you and your best friend. "I think you should focus on the classes you're already taking." Your hand reached out for Kate's pulling her up from her bed before she could get a chance to reply. "Now, let's go get dinner. I'm starving."

———

The setting sun streamed in through the wide windows of Natasha's office. The entire room was painted in a soft orange glow, guiding the redhead as she finally began to pack up for the night. Today had been a long day for her, her daily schedule packed and evening full of essay marking that needed to be completed by tomorrow. Finally, Natasha had managed to get finished up, closing her laptop and packing away her notes for the night. She tucked them away into her bag to bring to work the next day before shutting off the lamp inside the room and retiring from her office for the night.

Her feet padded across the wooden floors as she made her way out of the home office. The sun's glow followed her, let in by the expansive windows her and Wanda's house contained. When she reached the living room, Natasha spied her wife curled up on the corner of their sofa, a blanket draped over her legs and an open book sat in her hands. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way over to the other redhead. Though she imagined her wife had still felt her approach, as she didn't flinch when Nat's hands came down for a hug from behind. Natasha's arms wrapped around her wife, a small hum escaping her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse point of her neck. "Baby," Natasha whispered, her voice low. Wanda simply hummed in response, her eyes still focused on her novel, her attention only slightly skewed when Natasha leaned in closer, pressing more kisses down the skin of her neck.

"I need to speak to you about something." Natasha's voice remained low, her words fanning out on to her wife's collar bones. She'd been waiting for this moment now for a while, anticipating just the right time to bring up her scenario to her wife. The thoughts had been circling her head for a small while now, perhaps longer than she liked to admit, but she found she couldn't wait any longer to share.

"What is it, moya lyubov?" Wanda's eyes finally raised from her book, head turning over her shoulder to look up at her wife. Though, this position didn't last long, as Natasha lifted her legs and swung herself over the back of the couch, landing in a position beside her wife. This was a habit Wanda hated, forever telling Natasha to 'use her legs like an adult', but this time she didn't have time to pester the redhead as she'd already began to speak. "Do you remember that student we spoke about? The one that got the perfect score."

The slight look of annoyance from Nat's behavior was quickly replaced by an inquisitive expression as Wanda furrowed her brow. The redhead finally closed her book on her lap, sliding a bookmark into place. "Yeah, I do. What was her name again?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Wanda hummed, a small smiling appearing on her lips. "That's it. Cute name. What about her?"

Natasha inhaled, her mind passing over the already scripted conversation she'd created. "I spoke with her again today. Came in asking for an extension for an assignment." The redhead smiled, remembering the interaction from that morning. She took another deep breath before she uttered the next words from her mouth. "I think I've maybe taking a liking to her."

"Oh?" Wanda's eyebrows raised, her expression changing to one of surprise. It wasn't new that the couple were searching for someone else in their relationship, the openness of the topic having been in circulation almost since the two had first got together. But the surprise came from the fact Nat had perhaps found someone she believed could slot into their duo, her and Wanda's standards usually far too rigid to find anyone to spend more than a night with. If Natasha was bringing up a girl like this, she must have seriously considered the possibility of a longer association, and that thoroughly intrigued Wanda.

"Now," Natasha continued. "Of course I don't want to do anything we don't both agree on, but..." She paused for just a moment, smiling a little up at her wife. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't already been playing around with her. Just a little bit." Natasha held up her fingers, signaling the small amount of teasing she'd subjected her prized student to. "You know, I didn't want to come asking your permission for a girl who turned out to be a bore."

The more Natasha continued to talk, the more Wanda became interested and invested by the conversation at hand. She slowly slipped her book to the couch beside her, leaning in closer towards her wife. "And is she?"

A wide smirk appeared on Natasha's lips as she relished in her wife's question. "Not in the slightest." Her expression only deepened as she recalled the little moments of you she'd been observing in class. "She's so fucking cute," she said, stating the obvious right off the bat. "She's always early for class and always paying so much attention. She shows up in the sweetest little outfits, like she doesn't even know how good she looks." The redhead smiled as she remembered the sight of you in your small summer dresses or slightly oversized sweaters. "Oh," she said, reminded of her favourite bit of all. "And she has this adorable little English accent."

With the last of her wife's words, a similar looking smirk began to appear on Wanda's own face. "Well now I'm intrigued.”

Natasha smiled back at her words as she shrugged a shoulder. "As I said, I played around a little bit and Wands..." The redhead had to suppress a sigh as she reached for her wife's hand. "I just know how much fun she'd be," she continued, her voice almost a whine. "I mean, she gets flustered so easily. One little pet name and she's already hiding away her flushed face."

Wanda's smirk deepened as Natasha continued to talk, stirred further by the slight desperation she could hear in the redhead's voice. She had to wonder just how long she'd been wondering about this one student and just how much fun she was getting to have without her... "Go ahead, malysh," Wanda replied finally, squeezing her wife's hand gently. "I trust your instincts. You'll just have to introduce me sometime soon."

Natasha's brows shot up. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Wanda chuckled back slightly, amused by the excitement underlying Nat's voice. When she spoke again, her lips had formed a devilish smirk. "It'll be fun. It's been a while since we had somebody to play with."

———

The funeral was awful. Of course, one never expects such an event to be the epitome of joy, but this particular funeral was like your own personally curated hell. Your entire family was gathered in one place, meaning not only were your parents’ critiques breathed down your neck the entire time, but they were also joined by those more distant. Grandparents and judgmental aunts seemed to team up on you, all obsessing over your university career and what your future plans were. Many pestered the question of your singularity, claiming that ‘a pretty young thing like you should have been swept up by a man a long time ago’. Unfortunately, the almost-compliment that could be found in their talk, was quickly diminished by the discussion of how it must be something wrong with your personality rather than your face, comments all whispered from where they thought you couldn’t hear.

There was no escape from the constant berating, your schedule full of family meals and teas, and far too lengthy conversations around the fireplace, of which you could not be excused due to your mother’s abhorrence of anyone ever thinking of her children as rude. To make matters worse, you were exhausted from jet lag and the flight, something certainly not helped by the endless hours of socializing and pressing on a smile for your family.

Still, you pushed through like the perfect daughter you always tried to be. You sat politely at the funeral, wearing an old black dress and Kate’s coat, the perfume of your best friend aiding a little to your torturous discomfort. Though your family cried, your eyes remained dry, silently staring at your feet and trying not to draw any attention to yourself. At the funeral tea, you shook hands and smiled softly at family members, answering any questions they asked with the grace your mother had forced upon your shoulders at a young age. Of course, she found her usual pride in parading you and your brother around like a pair of trophies she’d spent hours shining. The entirety of every event was exhausting.

Even at the will reading, there was no break to be given. Your late grandmother had graciously scattered her belongings to her loved ones, though seemingly biased to those who she deemed more palatable. Your brother received a chunk of her money alongside her old ring, something the family gushed over due to the prospect of his long-term girlfriend who he could now finally pop the big question to. Your rolled your eyes as they pandered over him, all blatantly dismissive of the old bible you’d been left, with your grandmother’s handwriting inside with a note of how she wished for it to be read out of at your wedding when you finally found yourself a suitable husband. You had simply rolled your eyes and shoved it to the bottom of your bag.

All that being said, it was a huge relief to you when you finally made your way back to the airport. Though you’d had to spend the journey constantly criticized by your mother about your uni work, as soon as you stepped on to the plane, relief was flooding over your shoulders. As the sky came to fill the widow, clouds passing by, you were more than grateful to be heading back to the true place you thought of as home.

Kate came to pick you up from the airport, hugging you immediately and beginning to rant about the idiots she’d encountered in the car park as she pulled your case towards the exit. The pair of you went straight to a mcdonald’s drive thru, your hunger unquenched from the bad aeroplane food you’d been offered. Fries and hamburgers were shared in the front seat of the car as you relayed back your awful week to Kate, telling her everything that you hadn’t even had the chance to text her due to your family’s never-ending nagging.

That weekend was very stressful. Due to the packed schedule you had followed back in England, you’d had next to no time to complete any of your work from that week. So, from morning until night, you cooped yourself up at your desk and ground it all out. At times, Kate had to drag you down to the hall for some food or persistently remind you to even go to bathroom. In the end however, you managed to get it all finished. By eleven o’clock Sunday night, you were finally all caught up from your missed classes and had completed all your deadlines. The light in the room were low, only your small desk lamp lighting up the space. Kate slept in her bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. You were quiet as you cleaned your space, eyeing the untouched plate of food Kate had brought up for you after you’d refused to go down for dinner. It was long cold now and you felt a little guilty throwing it out, but you were far too tired now to think about eating. Instead, you simply turned off the light and slid yourself into your bed, finally letting your mind rest and prepare itself to return to your regularly scheduled classes the next morning.

———

"Alright everyone, that's all for today's lesson. Are there any questions?"

Like always, the bustle began began your professor could even finish his sentence. Everyone was already packing away their things, drowning out the teacher's voice with their own hustle to leave. It happened almost every class, and almost every time you felt bad, one of the only people who remained still until they had officially dismissed you. But today, you found yourself following the crowd more than you usually would have. See, your professor had droned on a bit too long that afternoon, moving into the passing period you had between classes. Most times that wouldn't have been a big deal seeing as it was your last class of the day, but today was the day you were supposed to meet Professor Romanoff and thanks to your English professor's extensive elaborations, you were left with only a few minutes until you'd be late. So today you put your cares aside and as the class packed up, so did you, stuffing everything into your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder before joining the crowd exiting the lecture hall.

Your English building was on the exact opposite side of campus as your destination, so your feet held a quick pace as you flitted between the crowds of students on your way. Pathways were held up by casually conversing people, all relaxed now their days were over. They all annoyed you severely as they slowed down your journey, obviously uncaring that you still had places to be. By the time you had reached the building in which your Russian class was held, the clock was already a few minutes passed the scheduled time. You almost burst in through the doors of the hall, ever so slightly out of breath from your fast paced journey across campus. As soon as you entered the room, you spied the redheaded professor sat at her desk, head buried into her laptop. She looked up to you as you walked across the floor, nervously adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. "Hi," you breathed out, trying your best to seem casual despite your racing lungs. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. My last lecture ran over a little."

A pair of perfectly white teeth smiled back in your direction, Professor Romanoff looking you over. "Y/N," she said, her gentle voice falling upon your ears. Something about it in that moment made you realize you had almost missed it over your break, but the rational part of your brain soon took over and told you you were being ridiculous. "Don't worry about being late, you're barely two minutes over." She smiled again as you closed the final distance between you, moving to stand by the edge of her desk. She stood as you did, displaying today a pair of grey slacks and a soft black jumper, all adorned with delicate gold jewelry. Her smiling face looked down at you, that forgotten odd feeling of warmth spreading through your gut. "It's good to see you again. How are you? How was your trip?"

You ignored the sensation in your stomach as you smiled back at her. "I'm good. The trip was fine. A little boring but fine." There were many worse words to describe your trip than ‘boring' but you decide to settle for that, not wanting to bother your professor with the complicated details of your family and more so, simply wanting to leave the entire week in the past and not think of it again.

“That’s good,” Professor Romanoff replied with that same easy smile. “I’m glad to hear you’re alright.” Her hands lifted from the pockets they hid in, reaching out to open a drawer of her desk. You wondered for a moment what she might be looking for before she pulled out a small stack of papers, extending them out towards you. “These are some extra notes from last week’s lectures.”

You smiled, slightly surprised. “Oh, thank you.” Most of your university work could be found online for both absence and revision purposes, but it never was quite the same as attending the classes themselves. Usually you hated using just the online notes to catch up, never grasping the material as well as you’d like, but this weekend you’d had to make do. That was, of course, until Professor Romanoff handed you the extra notes. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Well,” your professor replied. “I wouldn’t want my best student falling behind, would I?”

Her words worked to form that warm sensation across your cheeks, the given title heating up your insides with flustering pride. You were grateful the woman had started to busy herself at her desk with something else as you tried to brush off her compliments as smoothly as possible, attempting to hide the flush of your skin.

“You can grab a chair from the side. Bring it over.”

You nodded, almost snapping back to reality once more with Professor Romanoff’s words. You placed your backpack down beside her desk, quickly slotting the extra notes into the large pocket before moving to grab a spare chair from the edge of the room. When you returned, your professor had seemingly found what she was searching for, a large stack of papers now sat in the centre of the desk.

“Sit,” Romanoff beckons with a smile, gesturing her hand towards the front of her desk. You pull up your chair, positioning yourself across from her own seated position. “These are tests I need marked. They’re all multiple choice and there’s a marking scheme.” The redhead lifted a single piece of paper, handing it over your way. “So you’ll just have to see if the letters match up on both papers. That sound okay?”

You nodded once more, her instructions seeming simple enough. “Yeah, sounds fine.”

“Great.” With a smile, Professor Romanoff slid the pile of unmarked papers across the desk towards you. She explained that if you needed any help, just to ask, and that she’d just be busying herself on her laptop. You nodded again, reaching into your backpack quickly for a pen before you began to work away.

It was an easy job really, simply matching the circled letters on the quiz papers to that of the marking scheme. In truth, it was almost relaxing to have something to do that didn’t require much brain power. Professor Romanoff sat across from you, typing away on her laptop. Occasionally, you’d look up to take a glance at her, catching moments of concentration or boredom on her face, but your eyes would never linger long, too scared of getting caught looking her way. She’d turned on the radio to fill a bit of the silence, music humming softly from a black stereo on the edge of the desk. All in all, the endeavour was a blessing in disguise - much simpler and easier than the effort the equivalent assignment would have took.

“You getting on alright, milaya?”

The voice brought you from the almost trance you’d put yourself in as you marked the set of papers. Your head rose from them, more than half the stack already complete as you smiled back at your professor. “Yeah, all good.”

She nodded, smiling at you with her perpetually perfect red lips. Under her gaze, you felt your eyes drop back to the papers, for some reason feeling entirely too see every time she looked your way. She went to turn back towards her laptop, your hand reaching out to continue marking, but a lingering question had been vibrating in your head. You had been too afraid to ask before, to be the one to break the soft silence of the room, but now was your opportunity. “Are these law papers?”

Professor Romanoff looked back at you, her expression soft. “Yes,” she said, simply. “I also teach a beginners law class alongside my usual Russian.”

You felt your eyebrows raise, unexpecting of her answer but also rather impressed. Now it made sense why the papers you were marking were not at all taking about Russian vocabulary but instead legal terminology.

“I studied a law major at college,” the red haired woman continued. “It was going to be my career until I decided to teach instead.”

“Huh,” you hummed, interested by the new information you were discovering about your teacher. “Why’d you decide to switch?”

Romanoff shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I love teaching.” A small smirk then appeared on her lips as she leaned in closer across the table. “Besides, my wife is a lawyer and just between me and you, I’m not sure I’d like her as my boss. She can be a little scary sometimes.”

There was a playfulness to her tone that you easily pick up on, the entire interaction meant as a jest, but somehow it left you with a strange feeling in your chest. You listened to your professor’s words, but your mind seemed to stick on one. Wife. In that moment, you suddenly realised you hadn’t pictured her being married - not that you had pictured her at all, your mind chided in defence. Now you quickly realised that she was indeed with another person, and not just that, but with a woman. Suddenly you had to push your mother’s berating thoughts from your head.

“So what about you?”

“Sorry?” you replied, mind crashing back to the present moment. Professor Romanoff looked back at you with an almost playful looking smirk. It only added to that strange feeling inside your chest.

“What’s your major?” the redhead elaborated.

“Oh.” You sat up straighter, trying to adjust your jumper in an effort to conceal the fact you’d gotten lost in your thoughts once more. “I’m an English major.” Romanoff raised a brow, the smirk on her face widening to almost a smile. You sighed softly, throwing your head to the side. “You can make the joke if you want, everyone does.”

An English girl studying English. You’d heard almost every variation of the joke, mostly from drunk boys at frat parties that thought they were the pinnacle of humour. Shouldn’t you already be an expert at that? Wait, they don’t teach you English in England?

You were expecting some similar turn of phrase to escape your professors lips, following in the footsteps of everyone you’d had this conversation with before. But to your surprise, she simply shook her head, frowning ever so slightly. “I think I’ll refrain,” she said, frown turning into the same wide smirk. “I hate being unoriginal.”

A laugh bubbled up in your throat, pushing out through a smile and into the air. Your professor followed, chuckling with you. After a moment, she stilled, looking back at you curiously. “So, tell me,” she said, leaning in closer to the desk. “What does bring you all the way to America to study?”

Because I can’t stand being at home with my parents. “Experience, I guess,” you said with a shrug, hiding away the truth behind a smile. “And I got a full scholarship when I applied so…” Your words died down, not quite sure how to finish your explanation.

Thankfully, your professor seemed to pick up the conversation easily. “A very smart girl, hm?” Her lips met as she hummed and it seemed you could feel the vibrations running down your spine. Your eyes fell back to your lap, trying to hide the awkward smile her praise had brought. You were unsure of what exactly you should do, contemplating if her question was rhetoric or not, and praying the former due to your inability to think of a response. Blessedly, Professor Romanoff cut through your mind’s distress with another question. “You’re in fourth year, right?”

Your eyes picked back up, meeting hers. “Yeah.”

She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared back at you intently. “And what exactly lead a fourth year English student to my beginner’s Russian class?”

You were getting a little bit of deja vu of the conversation you’d had with Kate multiple times. This time, you settled on the short answer. “I thought it sounded interesting,” you said simply, smiling as you shrugged your shoulders.

Professor Romanoff seemed amused by your answer. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

You felt yourself smiling back in response. So am I, your brain mused, but your consciousness refused to let anything move past your lips. Instead, Romanoff was picking up the conversation once again. “What’s your plans for after?”

Your eyebrows raised, suddenly surprised by her question. “Sorry?”

The redhead chuckled. “Once you graduate, sweetheart,” she said, voice sounding slightly amused. “What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”

“Oh right,” you fumbled. You felt a little stupid for thinking she ever meant anything other than that. “My, uh…my mum wants me to go to law school actually…”

A red brow raised in your direction. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, reminiscent of your previous chatter with your professor. A funny little coincidence that you two may be following a similar path. Although in that moment, you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. She had eventually fallen away from law, moving to a career she was truly passionate for. You were unsure if you’d ever get that opportunity. It had taken months just to convince your mother to let you major in English, claiming it was good for getting into law school after college. And after three years, you still hadn’t been able to convince her away from that same dream of hers, now unsure if you ever would.

“And what to do you want to do?”

“What?” Your professor’s words took you by surprise. When you looked up, it felt as if her eyes had seen straight through you, like she’d been able to hear your every thought.

“Your mother wants you to go to law school,” Professor Romanoff reiterated. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

Your voice was unsteady in your response. “Go to law school?”

Professor Romanoff raised a brow as she angled her head. “Are you asking me?” All you could muster was a shrug, feeling suddenly very small in the large hall. You didn’t much like talking about what you wanted to do in your life, haven forgone the gesture years ago due to your mother’s constant coercion. But then your professor leaned in slightly, a small smile crossing her lips. “You can tell me the truth, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

The endearment fell on your already blushed cheeks. Most times you wouldn’t have said anything at all, hidden behind the lies your mother had constructed about your person, but something about the redhead’s smile almost drew the words directly from your mouth. “I guess if I could do anything, I’d be a writer,” you said, playing at the sleeves of your sweater.

“A writer?” Romanoff repeated, raising a pair of curious brows.

You felt yourself nodding as a small smile crept on to your lips. “Yeah. I love books and writing, and I guess it’s what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a little girl.”

“Why don’t you do it then?”

Her words came as a shock, your system unsure of how exactly to respond. You shrank back under the redhead’s gaze, reminded of the words you’d been told so many times they were engraved into your mind. “It’ll be good for me to go to law school. My mum says I’ll get a better job.”

“Maybe…” Professor Romanoff hummed. Then her expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand as she leaned in closer, her emerald eyes trained on your face. “But do you know what my birth mother used to say about me? She used to tell me I was useless little piece of shit that wouldn’t get anywhere in life.” Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock as you heard her words, especially on the fact she’d cursed so easily and how oddly good it sounded coming from her lips. Then her expression shifted again, an almost smugness taking over that drew your attention away from your own thoughts. “Thirty years later I’m a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in America. I’m married to a very successful lawyer, and living quite frankly an amazing life with a pair of adoptive parents who love me very much.”

Professor Romanoff finished with a small smirk, seemingly unaware of how her words settled on your shoulders. The entire statement was so weighted, so much shared about her as a person in so few words. Something in you felt slightly honoured that she could be that vulnerable around you, or perhaps her story wasn’t one she kept bundled up in her chest like you did, like a weighted lock on your heart. Still, you felt a sense of solace in learning more about your professor, a sense of trust being built in up inside. Her smiling eyes met yours as she leaned in even further on the desk. “Don’t let people who don’t know the real you keep you from what you want. We only get one life, Y/N. Don’t waste it trying to be someone you’re not.”

Her words settled in your stomach with an odd sensation. Her reassurance felt like another brick added to that wall of trust, perhaps her intention to try and learn more of your story. But maybe that trust wasn’t quite strong enough yet.

You shied away, unwilling to share more of your story despite how open Romanoff had seemed, years of criticisms sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Maybe,” you said lowly, picking up your pen once again. But you knew you’d never truly be able to follow through with what she was proposing you should, knew your future fate was already sealed by the woman who’d brought you into this world. She’d have a perfect daughter with her perfect career and wouldn’t settle for less, no matter how it made you feel. For now, all Professor Romanoff’s words could provide was a little fuel to that already dying fire of a dream inside your heart.

The pair of you quickly fell back into the steady silence of your work after your conversation, you pen dotting over papers as your professor turned back to her laptop. The radio played quietly in the background as you tried to push whatever words lingered in your head, both from your mother and the redhead in front of you, too many feeling provoked from the subject to allow you to focus properly. Dispelling them from your mind, you trained your eyes on the marking schemes in front of you, though having some of the answers memorised by now, and continued to work away at the stack of tests on the desk.

Time passed quickly once more, your speed increasing as the papers became more familiar in your hands, easily noticing the same mistakes made over and over. Occasionally you heard Romanoff begin to hum along to a song on the radio, focusing momentarily on her soft voice before refocusing on your work. In your mind, you became determined to finish them as quickly as you could, absentmindedly hoping to impress the woman they were for.

You were almost finished your task, down to the very last paper when a shrill sound cut through the soft atmosphere of the room. Both you and your professor’s heads shot up from your work, eyes turning to your backpack from where the loud ringtone emanated. Shit, you thought, obviously accidentally turning on the ringer that you always kept silenced.

“I’m sorry,” you said, glancing over at your professor in slight fear of her reprimand. But in return, you were only met with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, milaya,” Romanoff replied gently. “This isn’t class time. You can answer your phone.”

Relieved by her answer, you let out a soft sigh. Reaching over, you began to dig through your bag to find your mobile, the nonsensical tune still ringing out. With no suprise, when you found it, Kate’s name and profile picture covered your screen. Quietly, you apologised again before accepting the call, slightly turning away in your chair as you held your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Kate’s voice replied back from the other end of the device. She sounded slightly off but you couldn’t quite tell why.

“Are you okay? What’s up?”

A small sigh sounded in your ear. “Okay, please don’t get mad at me again but-“

You were replying with a sigh of your own before Kate could even finish her sentence. “You forgot your key again, didn’t you?”

“I’m so sorry,” the girl on the end of the other phone pleaded.

You sighed again, shaking your head. “Kate, how many times-“

“I know! I know,” she cut off. “I’m the worst person ever. But I slept in this morning and just forgot to put it in my bag. I’m sorry.”

Your sigh turned less frustrated. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” At your core you weren’t a confrontational person. You could never stay mad at anyone for long, especially Kate.

“Well, I came back to the room and you’re not here,” your best friend continued through the phone. “I thought you were finished english at three?”

“I am,” you replied. “But I’m helping out Professor Romanoff, remember? I’m in her class right now.”

You could hear Kate’s realisation through the call. “Shit. I am so sorry.” There was a pause. You could picture Kate dancing on the heels of her feet, the same way she did every time she needed to ask you a favour. “Uhm, could I possibly swing by and pick up your key then? Please Y/N, I really need to finish my computing assignment. It’s due at five.”

If there was anyone who would leave their work until one hour before the deadline, it was Kate. Another soft sigh escaped your lips. “Fine.”

Kate’s smile could practically be heard through the phone. “Thank you! What room are you in?”

“Language building, room ML4.”

“Okay,” Kate replied. “I’ll be right there. You’re the best, I love you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little as you responded. “Love you too.”

With that, Kate hung up the call. You pulled your phone away from your ear, switching it off and throwing it in your pocket as you turned back in your chair. “I’m so sorry,” you began, facing back to your professor. “It’s my roommate, Kate. She’s locked herself out again.”

Romanoff raised a curious glance. “Again?”

“Bad habit.” You smiled back sheepishly, shrugging your shoulder. “She’s just going to stop by and pick up my key, if that’s alright?”

The redhead smiled back at you. “Of course. That’s perfectly fine.” A small sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the encounter wouldn’t be a problem. “But I think we’re actually almost done here,” Romanoff continued. “How are you getting on with those papers.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, pulling yourself back towards the desk and the stack of papers sat atop of it. “I’m actually just on the last one.”

“Well if you just finish that up, you can run along with your friend when she gets here.”

“You’re sure?” you replied, looking up. You didn’t want Kate’s endeavour to disrupt any of the help your professor needed. But the redhead simply nodded in response.

“I’m sure, Y/N.”

“Okay then,” you responded, nodding your head softly. A small smile was passed between the two of you before you were grabbing your pen once more, reaching out to finish marking the final test in the stack. Your hand moved quickly as you corrected any of the mistakes, flicking through the sheets of paper at an impressive rate. It was just as you were marking the last question that the noise of the hall doors opening drew your attention.

Clamouring in, Kate appeared inside the hall, her backpack momentarily getting caught on the handle before she was able to free herself. She stood sheepishly inside the room, looking across the way and spying you and your professor sat at the desk. “Uhm, hello,” the girl announced. You could tell she was trying to play it cool but she had that same almost awkward look she got whenever a girl she liked try to talk to her. “I’m, uh, Kate Bishop. Y/N’s roommate.” Her finger pointed to you, as if trying to prove she hadn’t barged in for no apparent reason.

Professor Romanoff had stood from her desk as Kate had entered, her hands finding a place resting inside her pockets. Now, she smiled across at her. “Yeah, she mentioned.”

Kate gave that awkward little laugh of hers and you had to refrain from not giggling at her yourself. “Sorry to just barge in on you guys. Are you still…” Her hands gestured towards you and the desk, trying to gage where you were with the work.

But Romanoff simply shook her head in response with a short smile. “No worries, Miss Bishop. We were just finishing up.”

Kate’s eyebrows raised. “Great,” she replied, sticking one of her thumbs up.

You had to stifle your laughs at her awkwardness. Was this how she interacted with all of her professors, or just the ones she didn’t know? As you hid your smile, you tidied up the stack of papers on the desk, piling them up neatly before rising to your feet. “Okay, Miss Romanoff,” you said, slightly pushing them in her direction. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”

The woman turned back to you with her gentle smile, her voice soft. “That’ll be all for today, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you replied, adjusting your jumper as you reached down for your backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. “Well, thank you again for this.”

Romanoff smiled. “No, thank you. I’d be drowning in work without your helpful hands.” A smirk seemed to form on her lips as she sent an emerald wink your way.

The action left you suddenly stuttering for the right words, embarrassingly affected by such a simple action. “Right,” you finally managed, voice jumbled. “I’ll uh- see you on Wednesday?”

Thankfully Professor Romanoff didn’t seem too bothered by your flustering state, if anything you might have said she even looked amused. “I’ll see you in class, Y/N,” she said, smiling down at you.

You returned the gesture as you turned away, walking to close the distance between where you and Kate stood. As you met the raven-haired girl’s side, a voice called out to the both of you. “Have a nice night, ladies.”

You turned briefly to Romanoff, smiling as you and Kate hummed a thanks in unison. As you passed through the doors to the hall and exited into the corridor, you felt your shoulders loosen ever so slightly, that perfect emerald stare still lingering in your mind. You couldn’t quite understand why you left that class always feeling so worked up.

This time, however, there was little space for you to think about it, as merely a few steps down the hallway, Kate was grabbing hold of your upper arm. “Holy shit, that’s your Russian professor?”

You turned quickly to your best friend, both startled and shocked by her sudden comment. “What? Yeah?”

Kate breathed out a laugh. “Y/N, you never told me she was hot as shit.”

“What?” you stuttered, taken about by Kate’s choice of words. “She’s not- I mean -I-I never noticed.”

The girls hand shook your arm slightly as the pair of you continued to walk. “Never noticed? Y/N, you must be blind because that was one of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen.”

The words come as a bit of shock, not expecting Kate to think so highly of the woman you’d been spending the last weeks of lessons with. The raven-haired girl began to mumble on about how she should have taken Russian and how it was unfair how she always got the old, ugly professors. But in all honeslty you weren’t paying her much mind, instead focusing on the words that had spilled from Kate’s mouth previously. Sure, Professor Romanoff was a nice-looking woman, you’d noticed that the first time she’d walked into the room, but that didn’t mean you should be attracted to her. That was wrong, she was your teacher, she was married for god’s sake. You shouldn’t be thinking about her in that way. You weren’t thinking about her in that way. Sure, she made you blush every time she spoke to you, and her stare made a strange warmth pool in your stomach, but that didn’t mean you found her attractive. Right?

———

Term continued on with its usual snowballing effect. The next couple of weeks began to fill up with more and more work as you progressed further into the year. You and Kate spent many of your time outside of lessons bundled up in the library, spending hours revising for your upcoming midterms. The pair of you were also beginning to write your final dissertations, the main project that would lead to your graduation at the end of the year. You'd had your topic picked for months and had already started your research over the Summer, which left you room to help Kate find something she could write about, having struggled finding a topic she didn't find extremely boring.

Your usual meal time chatter turned away from mindless gossip and instead to lesson content, both of you complaining about how many assignments you had due. The carefree start of term was officially gone and the usual endless list of deadlines had crept back up on you just like it always did. Luckily for you, you'd managed to maintain the rigidness towards studying you'd possessed since doing your exams in secondary school. You could maintain focus for hours, staring at your laptop or notes until everything was photocopied into your mind. Sure, it sometimes meant you'd miss a meal or a few hours of sleep, but it was all worth it for the perfect grade you were determined to achieve in the end.

Your sessions with Professor Romanoff continued on over the next couple of weeks too, still just an hour after your final class on a Monday. You'd offered her more help if she'd needed it but the redhead had politely refused, claiming she didn't want you wasting your time when you had exams to study for. In fact, she told you that she'd only require your help for a few more weeks, just up until the midterm, then you were free to go with that easy 'A' tucked into your pocket. Surprisingly, when you heard the news, you found yourself feeling slightly saddened. Over the time you'd spent with Professor Romanoff, you'd rather enjoyed yourself. It wasn't that the work was particularly exhilarating or you two ever did much other than look at papers, but the small moments you'd been able to find in between had been rather pleasant. Whether it was the soft lull of the radio music that you both would hum along to, or the small conversations she'd have with you about your home or your studies, the time you spent with the redhead somehow always left you with a warmth in the pit of your stomach.

One particular rainy Monday afternoon, the pair of you were comfortably sat at her desk in your usual positions, your chair across the way from hers. As she often did, Romanoff typed away on her laptop, while you sat stapling together test papers for her advanced Russian class, having previously just photocopied the stack. The paper was still warm against your skin as you organised them into the correct order, the feeling almost soothing you into a trance-like state. You hadn't even noticed it at all until it was suddenly shattered by a soft sound echoing through the room.

Your head picked up, readjusting itself to the real world before turning to the right where the sound emanated from. The sight that befell upon you caused your brows to raise ever so slightly in surprise. As the door to the lecture hall swung closed, a tall, unfamiliar, but smartly-dressed woman entered through them. Her heels clicked confidently across the floor, eyes trained on your professor who sat at the desk. You watched as the redhead stood when the woman reached her, smiling softly. "Detka, hi." Romanoff placed a small kiss on the woman's cheek as they hugged briefly.

"I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail," the other woman replied. She stood a few inches taller than Professor Romanoff, her hair a lighter shade of red straightened almost perfectly down her back. She wore a deep copper suit with a crisp white shirt, a designer handbag thrown over one shoulder. In all honesty, you couldn't tell if she'd came straight from work or a catwalk. When her body turned to stand side by side with your professor, you noticed her eyes shimmered down at you with a soft olive green. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you would still have company."

At that, you noticed Professor Romanoff turn towards you, as if she had just remembered you were there. She smiled as she gestured to the taller woman. "Y/N, this is my wife, Wanda."

Right, wife. The idea she'd slipped a few weeks ago had almost left your mind entirely. Now that said woman was standing directly in front of you, looking down with an expression you couldn't quite read. "So you're the star pupil my wife has been telling me about, hm?"

Her voice was playful when she spoke, but at the same time low and almost sultry. Everything about it, including her words, left you stuttering over what to say. Had Professor Romanoff really been speaking about you to her wife?

"This is she," the redhead replied, covering for your inability to form a full sentence. She looked back at you with that same easy-going smile that seemed to make you shift in your seat.

Wanda passed you a similar expression as she inclined her head towards you, smirking just slightly. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Thankfully, in that moment, your ability to speak seemed to return. "It's nice to meet you too, miss."

A small chuckle escaped the older woman's lips as you spoke. She glanced at Natasha, the pair sharing a look you couldn't interpret, before her sparkling eyes were back on you. "Oh please, honey. You can just call me Wanda." Just then you realised it wasn't only your professor's use of nicknames that seemed to send a shiver down your spine, Wanda's words setting your nerves on edge as you felt the heat flush to your cheeks. You looked down to your lap in an attempt to hide it, not wanting either woman to see your embarrassed state. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw Wanda wasn't going to let you hide that easily. She sat herself on the edge of the desk, leaning in closer to you and the stack of papers close by. "Working hard, are we?"

You looked back up to meet her eye, the action seemingly stripping away your speech once more. Thankfully, your professor stood up to answer for you. "Just getting some papers organised for my lesson tomorrow," she said, sitting herself down at her chair once more. Her eyes met her wife's. "Sorry, I didn't realise we'd run so late." Just then, you assumed why Wanda had shown up so unnanounced. Professor Romanoff had mentioned in passing that her wife would sometimes meet her after work, meaning that your sessions couldn't run any later even if she did need the extra help you offered.

"No, need to apologise," Wanda replied with an easy smile. "I don't mind sticking around while you guys finish up. Especially when your little assistant is so cute." Her eyes turned to you, a smirk playing on her lips. The entire action seemed to freeze you in place, entirely unsure of what to say or do.

"Cat gets her tongue sometimes."

Your eyes flicked to your professor as she spoke, a very similar smirk appearing on her face to match her wife sitting next to her. The taller redhead hummed lowly at her comment, her gaze tracing over you. Sat in that chair, you felt entirely too seen. Your eyes darted around, unsure of where exactly to look while the pair of older women watched you. If there was something you were supposed to say, you mind could not conjure it. In that moment all you could do was sit awkwardly as two pairs of green eyes traced your every movement.

But then, a familiar tune rang out to your rescue. When before you'd cursed your forgetfulness to turn off your ringer, now you silently thanked yourself. Your eyes rushed to your backpack, then quickly back to your professor and her wife. "I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "Could I?"

"Go on, milaya."

You tried your best to ignore your professor's comment as you reached into your backpack for your phone, quickly holding it up to your ear. To no surprise, it was a familiar voice singing a familiar tune. Still, you found the situation grateful for its diversion from the stalemate conversation you'd been stuck in beforehand. As you hung up the call a minute later, you turned back to the desk with a sheepish smile. "It's Kate, she's locked herself out again."

Professor Romanoff raised a perfect brow. "That really is a bad habit of hers, hm?"

You fought back a small chuckle at her words, surprised she even remembered you'd said that. "Yeah," you smiled back, then dropped it into a small frown. "I am so sorry-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the redhead was holding up her hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it, milaya. You can run along. I'll catch you in class on Wednesday."

Your eyebrows raised, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her yet again. "You're sure? I can easily-"

"I said it's fine, Y/N," Romanoff reiterated, her voice coming out more stern. It wasn't quite angry, just firm, but it was enough to shut your mouth right up. You looked back, eyes wide, afraid that you'd annoyed her by leaving early twice due to your roommates negligence. But at your response, the redhead simply smiled down softly at you angling her head towards the door. "Go on. I can handle the rest."

You found your head nodding almost on its own accord, directed by not only your professor's watchful eye but now that of her wife's too. Your words came out little and few, a mumbled thank you and another apology spilling from your lips as you packed up your bag and threw it over your shoulders. One last reassurance and smile sent you walking out the door, headed back to your dorm where Kate would be waiting for you. As you went, you were hyper aware of the two sets of eyes trained on your back, picturing the two redheaded woman still sitting at the desk watching you walk away. What you weren't exactly aware of was how their gaze dropped even lower, both staring at the short black skirt you'd decided to wear that day, watching how the material grazed lightly against the back of your tight-covered thighs. When you exited out the door, you couldn't see the way the taller redhead turned back to her wife, looking down at her from where she still sat on the desk, a wide smirk appearing on her face as she bit into a perfectly painted lip. You couldn't see the way the pair looked at each other, leaning closer in, nor hear the words Wanda uttered back to her wife before their lips met in a kiss.

"You're right, she is cute. Let's keep her."

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #lawyer wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #platonic kate bishop x reader

[yanderambling]

omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 4.6k

you can read the previous part here!

CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds

Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.

It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.

Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.

As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"

You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).

Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.

(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)

Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).

You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.

The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.

As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!

He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.

He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)

Yeah, fat chance.

When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.

...The fuck.

You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.

You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.

Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.

Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.

Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).

The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.

"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."

Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.

You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).

He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.

Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...

You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.

It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.

“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”

You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.

"We?"

Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.

He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"

You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"

Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...

"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."

As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!

You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"

Adrian can't answer fast enough.

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"

But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.

He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.

Apparently, you’ve trained him well.

You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).

"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."

Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.

You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...

Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.

It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.

Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.

"I'm hungry."

Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.

He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.

"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"

He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)

The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.

You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.

“Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”

You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.

Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.

“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”

Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,

“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”

You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”

“N-no!”

The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”

Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.

Bingo.

You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”

“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”

You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.

He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...

All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.

He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.

You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.

"Open it."

"N-no-"

You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"

"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."

That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-

But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.

Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.

Yeah, good enough.

Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.

Then you're lifting the lid.

"No!"

He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.

Fuck.

It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)

"What. The. Fuck."

"I-I can explain- It's not-!"

"I literally do not believe that you can."

Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"

You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.

But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.

They’re all you.

Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.

It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.

(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)

"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.

Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"

While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.

It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.

But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...

This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?

And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.

The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.

"Alright, shut it, stalker."

Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.

"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."

Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.

Jesus, he's shameless.

This is gonna be fun.

But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).

"Alright. Sit."

Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.

You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.

He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.

"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."

Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.

You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.

You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...

He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.

What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...

"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"

Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.

You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.

You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."

You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.

Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.

A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.

"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"

If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.

He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.

“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”

Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.

“Use your words, mutt.”

He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-

“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”

He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-

“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“

He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.

"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.

He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.

Oh god yes please-

Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.

"Use your words, puppy."

Puppy.

Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.

It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,

"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"

A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.

"There, that's a good boy."

Adrian's vision whites out.

He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.

He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.

His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.

He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.

Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.

Hot.

"Pathetic."

You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.

"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."

Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"

You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...

"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."

You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.

Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.

He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.

“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.

“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.

“See ya tomorrow!”

Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.

He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.

He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.

The phone drops from his fingers like lead.

How?

His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).

It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?

Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.

[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]

A shaky giggle escapes him.

Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.

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[aidaronan]

"First movie you ever saw in theaters?" Steve lounged opposite of Robin on the couch in his living room, the stereo on low, spitting out Madonna on the local radio station.

"Oh, that's easy." Robin bit off part of a licorice. "Freaky Friday. I remember because I was terrified for weeks that I'd end up switching places with my mom and have to, like, balance a checkbook or something."

Steve laughed, separating m&ms in his hand. "You still don't know how to balance a checkbook, do you?"

"Like you do." Robin playfully glared at him. "Okay, here's a good one. First kiss."

Steve ate the sole blue m&m first, a grin spreading across his face because he usually lied about his first kiss, but he didn't have to. Not with Robin. "Camp Stronghold when I was nine. We met up in the boathouse after lights out to trade contraband."

"Contraband, huh?" Robin raised her brows.

"Candy. I swear my parents loaded me up like I was going to prison. 'This is as good as cash in there, Steven.' I think my dad wanted me to network or something. Because, you know, I was totally gonna start a small business with a group of eight-year-olds."

Robin snickered. "And the kiss?"

"Ah. I didn't actually want candy. I just wanted this kid to like me so bad, and I didn't know why until we were there in the dark tripping into each other because we couldn't see. I had all these butterflies, and we were standing close enough that I could feel the heat off his sunburn in the air." Steve could still picture it. The way he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face. "Then he kissed me, just this quick peck on the lips before he turned tail and ran. I left the boathouse with a Snickers and one massive first crush."

"Did anything else happen?" Robin asked.

"No. It was the last week of camp and I think he freaked himself out over it. I don't know. He didn't even really say bye to me after we climbed off the bus to meet our parents. Never saw him again. I honestly never even thought to get his name."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. I just hope he's doing okay, you know? That he's got people in his life that make him feel like he's allowed."

Robin looked at him softly, reaching out to give his ankle a squeeze. "Hey, you never know. You might run into him again someday. Maybe he's your soulmate or something."

"Please. I think you're pretty obviously my soulmate." Steve nudged Robin with his foot. "But I guess he could settle for 2nd place."

"Oh, there's a toast for sure." Snacks tumbling off her lap, Robin reached for her can of Coke on the coffee table and raised it as high as she could reach. "To both of us finding our 2nd places."

"Cheers to that." Steve thrust his own Coke into the air.

____

It felt like a big cosmic joke that Steve would be in a boathouse when he realized who Eddie Munson had been all that time. Eddie had looked so different when he'd transferred into Hawkins that Steve had never even given him a second look, not during their shared classes, not during any of those cafeteria tirades. Not during the numerous occasions where he gave the kids rides to D&D.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"

It was the eyes that finally pulled back the curtain and cut away all those in-between years. Steve had never been close enough to clock them, but he couldn't deny them now. Not at such close range, Eddie holding a broken bottle against his neck, trembling with so much fear that Steve worried he might actually use it.

Dropping the oar from his own shaking hands, Steve said the only thing he could think to say.

"Well, this brings back memories."

Eddie didn't respond, the fear in the air drawing out every second, making it feel infinite. Behind them and in another universe, Dustin said a bunch of stuff Steve barely heard for the pounding in his ears. He watched beads of sweat roll down Eddie's forehead and waited for something to give.

Like clouds fat with rain, Eddie finally broke open, tension draining out of him, arm and weapon dropping to his side. He exhaled a shaky breath, maintaining eye contact, his expression too complicated for Steve to fully read.

Steve was about to say something else when Eddie finally spoke, cocking his head to the side and leveling Steve with a look.

"And here I spent all these years thinking you forgot."

#steddie #ficlet #mine #long post #first kisses