#word count: 1792

[bekahdoesnerdshit]

Scrawled on the first blank page of a stolen spellbook:

Day 1: Already working on a way to get you back; some rich old lady knows a way to get the magic we’re gonna need. She reminds me of that shitty “migration and language” professor you had, so you can imagine how much fun dealing with her has been.Met a weirdo in a mask who you’re gonna hate, and a little illiterate wizard who’s gonna give you a heart attack. Also been dealing with the burgermeister’s swaggering little attack dog, and you know how I prefer to deal with guys like that. I’d say you’ll hate him too, but I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna have the chance to meet him. Shame.

Stupid how quick I forgot how to not miss you. I hated you for decades, and having you back for a week was enough to ruin all that hard work. Really appreciate that, Hugh.

Day 2: Almost died today. Figured you’d want to know, so you can yell at me about it later. In fairness, it was because I was trying to be a good person. I could have just taken Kai and left, but I didn’t.…thought about doing it, though. Didn’t fucking matter in the end, but I guess I wanted you to know that too. That I tried to do the right thing. Anyway. Ireena’s dead. Turns out vampires here only know one trick; pick a fight nobody wants, kill one person, and leave. Izek’s(1) dead too though at least, so let’s count our victories where we find them. And then. And fucking then. That rich old bitch who’s supposed to help me get you back? Decided that our deal is off, because she got Strahd to do her dirty work for her. And then she had the fucking audacity to lock me up in her stupid, ugly house. I’m writing this now to keep from going to town with my crowbar in here until something happens. You’ll have to excuse me if my handwriting is shit right now; I’m fucking furious.

…I can’t believe this smug, entitled dickhead is keeping me from spending the night with you.

…I’m gonna pry up a floorboard and take a shit down there.

(1)Sorry. Izek is the ‘swaggering little attack dog’ from before. Dropped his name with a lot of confidence there before remembering I’d given exactly zero context. Thank god I had so fucking long to sit and proofread this thing tonight!

Day 3 Got screwed over for having a shred of empathy for someone who just lost someone they cared about. Started to forget that I’m the only one here who gives a shit about saving you but don’t worry: I got a swift kick-in-the-dick reminder and now my head’s back on straight. Not making that mistake again.

Strahd showed up in Vallaki which, I cannot stress enough, is not my fault. Not for lack of trying! But I didn’t get to help kill the burgermeister or hand over the anti-vampire bones. This mess is deeply, entirely, not my fault. Anyway. He made it clear that he calls the shots there now, and you know what? Say what you will about the guy, but he knows how to make a fucking entrance and command a crowd. I bet his Lang201 students never fall asleep during his lectures.

At least one good thing came of today: got to see one of the consorts(2) beat to shit and left to die. Other than that we picked up another stray (this one had a huge book of Barovian history; you know I started tearing through it immediately), fought some fucked up werewolves, and… oh yeah! Got backed into a corner and forced to waste a day helping out this random family and their vineyard, instead of going to Krezek after dropping Uke off. Like we had planned. Like I said, kick-in-the-dick reminder.

I don’t care what anyone has to say about it; I’m going to Krezk. Alone, if it comes to it. I’m not chasing after some fucking- gem, or whatever. They can figure it out on their own.

(2)Not Antonio. The one who killed Ireena, who I would have loved for you to meet. God, that would have been great. …great for me, that is. You would have hated her. And I would have loved that.

Day 4 I won’t admit that it was a fun fight. You’re going to be the only person who ever reads these, but I still won’t give them that satisfaction. As far as they get to know, I was mad to be forced to go and grumpy the whole time I was there. And to be clear; I was. Mad about it, that is. But it’s…fine. Because I’m so fucking nice, I’ll be the bigger person and let it go. We’re heading to Krezk in the morning, so at least we’re back on track.

Oh by the way, I took Dylan to get a tattoo for her last birthday. She said she wasn’t gonna tell you until she moved out, but she told me I could tell you if we ever spent twenty minutes together without fighting. She was obviously joking, but here we are. We’re well past twenty minutes, I think. It’s a little rainbow beetle on her bicep. It’s pretty cute, I think she did the sketch herself. She handled the whole thing like a champ.

Day 5 Spent most of today traveling to Krezk. Spent the rest of the day in Krezk. Great stuff.

Going to see the Abbot tomorrow. Supposedly he's the guy that can fix you, and I’m gonna knock him around until he does. See you soon, hopefully. I’m getting bored of journaling.

Day 6 Fuck them. Fucking spineless, brainless, self-righteous cowards. Sanctimonious hypocrites. Bastards.

I don’t answer to them. If they think that I’m going to bow down and let them rip this chance away from me without fighting back, they got another fucking think coming.

I’m not leaving Krezk without you. And I’ll burn the bridges I have to to make it happen.

forget he exists when you look away stay focused

writing in notebook. about us? followed us

[The writing is jumbled, scattered and hard to read]

puts thoughts in your head

Forget he exists when you look away

[Crosswritten with the previous line, illegible]

trades in secrets? knowledge? have to assume he takes it. BAD IDEA

Day 7 I didn’t write that.

No. Obviously I did. I hacked through my t’s at that annoying angle I picked up from you, and looped the l’s together in that way I picked up to annoy you. No one else has breathed on this thing in the last week. Obviously, I wrote it.

But I don’t remember doing it.

Am I going

Alright, alright. No point freaking out about it; let’s take it one step at a time. Way I see it, there’s three explanations:

Someone took and wrote in your spellbook since the last time I opened it, which was earlier this afternoon (found your weird Elder Tongue transcription by the way. You’re gonna be so mad if I crack it without you)

I’m not I’m starting to My mind isn’t reliable. Unlikely.

I wrote it, I’m right, and there’s a creepy little pervert skulking around the shadows.

Number one’s impossible, the only time your spellbook isn’t in my holster is if I’m writing in it. Leaves two and three, and between one where I’m losing my mind and I’m not, well. If there’s one brain I trust, it’s mine.

Day 8 You’ll never guess who showed his stupid, ugly face again.

Mhm. That’s right.

Y’know, I’ve been thinking about it the last few days, what I’d do when we ran into him again. I thought I might try to play it cool, not give him the satisfaction of having got to me. Get in some quips about not having to pay alimony anymore, or about getting full custody of the kids. I don’t know. But when I saw him, I just- I saw red. I didn’t hear a word out of his mouth, I just. I just shot him. And hit him. Over and over and it felt

Did it feel good? We didn’t kill him. I don’t think we came close. He almost killed Zavisza. Would have too, if Strahd hadn’t shown up to monologue at us again. He wants one of our tagalongs (both of them, technically, I guess. We gotta stop taking in strays) and instead of just letting him have the guy he wants (So sorry to see you go! Best of luck! We’ll miss you! Etc.) our stupid, self-important paladin and his dumbass little savior complex—

I can’t even put how stupid it is into words. Thank fuck I’m lucky enough that you’re going to be unlucky enough to have to sit through it with me. You’ll see. You’ll be just as annoyed as I am.

But. Apparently, there’s a scroll of Raise Dead in the ruins of a swamp town south of Vallaki. This is it, Hugh. This is- It has to be. It has to be. We’re going to go to this stupid swamp, we’re going to find this woman and take her scroll, and I’m gonna fix you.

See you soon.

Day 9 Another travel day. You should be proud of how responsible I was, even with Flips trying his hardest to get us killed by goading us on into the swamp tonight. We’re camping out here on the edge, and we’ll head in fresh in the morning. If nothing else goes wrong (one can dream), I’ll get my hands on that scroll and have you back tomorrow.

And, well. When something does go wrong, let’s at least hope it’s a quick detour. Because otherwise, we’re going back to Plan D(3).

(3)The “D” is for “De-face”, of course. Look, it made me laugh. You can lecture me about that joke being in poor taste tomorrow.

Day 10 Berez is, uh. Was, I guess. Berez was It was a shitshow. Who cares.

Almost got myself hanged when we went back to I mean. Who fucking cares.

Hugh, I’m scared. Terrified. Everything has gone wrong every step of the way to get you back, and this is going to be the same. Borris was dead when we got here, the scroll was gone. Who’s to even say it’ll actually be in this stupid tower when we get there? What if someone else has used it? Burned it? What if it doesn’t work, if resurrection just doesn’t work here? What if it does work but you come back wrong? Hurt? Broken? A rat?? What if this was all for nothing?

If I keep saying “tomorrow”, eventually I’ll be right.

#when your wife is killed in front of you and you're handling it soooo so well. ahah #ransom kitwell #cos2 #mine #word count: 1792 #me tossing this bit out the window now that allie is back and i don't have her spellbook anymore: Good riddance!!!

[charles-leclerizz]

🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑The sweatshirt

🏁 Pairings : Charles Leclerc X fem! Reader

🏁 Warnings : none! just fluffy times

🏁 Word Count : 1.7k words (1792 words)

🏁 Author's note : First post! Hopefully you all like it. I am definetly thinking of new things to write so I pray that ya'll look forward to them! Make sure to lilke and reblog (anything is appreciated, but comments and reblogs fuel this sad little writer). Also, peep the word dividers (lana del ray coded) by @plum98! Note that all translations are avaible at the end, via radio comm! Thank you <3

🏁 Music player : The bones by Maren Morris & Hozier

“Mon amour, have you seen my sweatshirt?” Your fiancé’s voice rung throughout your shared apartment as you stacked the damp plates into the washing machine. The odd clunking of you organising dishes continued as he rushed out of the bedroom passing by the kitchen, where you worked, and towards his office.

“Which one?” You called back, drying your hands on the pale green washcloth that hung from the fitted hook above the sink, the new one! “No, I haven’t seen it, baby, you come back with new sweatshirts every week, just wear another one?” You offered helpfully, bending down towards the indented shelfs within the breakfast bar to grab new hand towels, wanting to replace the one’s that hung, used and abused in the bathrooms.

“But that one is important.” A worrying thud emitted from the home office, which was soon followed by a deep groan from Charles.

You hummed in support, stacking the fluffy white towels in your hands, “Why is it so important?” because! “Because what?” Leaning down to the scented fabric in your grasp, you take a large breath in, enjoying the strawberry scent that emitted from them.

“It just is,” He whined in reply, emerging from the room he had left in disarray whilst rubbing the back of his head, hissing as he pulled his fingers back to check for blood, “Why is my desk so low?”

“I don’t know my love, I warned you when you had bought it in the first place,” You scurry away from the kitchen, wanting to avoid his assessing gaze, lest he find out where his new sweatshirt really was, “Aren’t you just going to Max’s place? Why do you need it?”

“Because he wanted to see- hey...” He cuts himself off with a suspicious lilt in his voice, you try to speed up your efforts seeing the glinting metallic handle of the bathroom waiting for you to escape into, “Amour...” His voice is accusatory but amused, as if he appreciates your efforts to evade him.

“What? Charles I really need to get the chores done; I only have this weekend.” You turn around slowly and watch him approach you, his eyes crinkled with affection. Busted.

“Baby, why do you have my new sweatshirt?” He reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your cheek, caressing it with the pad of his thumb.

“’Cause,” You mumble, fiddling with the tag of one of the towels cradled on your chest, “It’s nice,” You shrug, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

Even after six years, you found in hard to admit such things to Charles, despite his kind eyes and cute dimples. Emotional affection was hard to extract from your dark, stony heart, so such pitiful attempts at it, such as stealing his sweatshirt and admitting why you did it, was completely out of the question.

“it’s nice?” He cocks his head, like a small puppy waiting for a treat, “I still need it baby, you can have any other one of mine,” He smiles kindly at you, eyebrow arching sympathetically when he feels you bite on the inside of your cheek.

“Of course, amour,” You clear your throat, pushing the stack of toiletries into his chest, before writhing out of the sweater and pulling it over your head, not caring if more odd chunks of your hair had fallen out of the claw clip you had carelessly attached to the strands, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mon ange,” He chuckles when you huff and swap out the items in his hands for the sweater, “I’ll be back in an hour or so, d'accord?” He slips on the article, pulling at the sleeves and adjusting the hood, then taking your face in his palms once again to pull you closer and press his lips against your forehead.

You hum, leaning into his touch, “À toute à l'heure,” You mutter, twisting your head so that you can peck the inside of his hand.

Truthfully, you wanted to jump on his back and order that he take you with him, not wanting to feel the absence of his sunny presence. But you were aware how much he valued his time with his friends, despite his many objections to your conclusion, so reluctantly you waited until you heard the muted click of the electronic lock of the front door before you continued to re-set your beloved home.

“Je suis à la maison mon amour!” Charles calls out, toeing off his shoes by the door before walking further into the apartment.

“I’m over here!” You call out from your own office, the door slightly ajar, you hear him hum before the tell-tale squeak of the hinges to the foyer bathroom screeches through the hallway, followed by the kitchen tap running. Soon enough, he stepped into the carpeted area of your office, setting down the tall glass of water and a singular pill.

“For your headache mon ange,” He came behind your chair, resting his chin on your shoulder whilst running his hand through your damp hair.

Though to most, it would seem that Charles was being your lovable drug dealer, always managing to drop the singular brightly coloured pill to the side of you whilst petting your head wistfully. When in fact, he knew that after an hour or two of working, your temples would begin to throb mercilessly and you required your prescription, that many were not aware of.

You relaxed in his embrace, your once pin straight spine became slack and your clenched jaw felt numb with his attention, “Thank you, baby.” You twisted your neck, pressing your lips against the scruff on his cheek.

“Are you wearing another one of my sweaters?” He asked, pulling away to rotate your spinning chair so that he could step back and asses your outfit, long black flare leggings with another one of his sweaters. This one, he had ordered from a fan’s etsy account, a large grey body with a small, illustrated version of this season’s current car along with his autograph and name, printed below it.

“You said that I could,” You mumbled inwardly, pulling at the long drawstring that lay on your chest, “I’m not taking it off,” You pouted, tucking your knees beneath fabric so that only your head and red painted toes were visible from beneath the hem.

“And you don’t have to,” He pinched your cheek adoringly, coming to his knees in front of you, so that you were looking down at him from your “dough-ball” position, “But I had bought you a matching one to this, wouldn’t it be easier to just, wear that one? Juste?”

You pushed your mouth into the collar of your sweatshirt, your answer muffled by the thick fabric.

“What was the ange?” Charlese brings his ear closer to your mouth, or what would be your mouth if you would bring it out of your clothes.

“Smells like you…” You admit, eyes wide and unblinking as you wait for Charles to pull away, most likely thinking that you’re weird.

“It does?” He moves his head lower, sniffing the hoodie, “I don’t think so?”

“Yeah, well obviously you don’t think so!” You exclaim, allowing your legs to fall out of the hoodie and popping your mouth out once again. He widens his eyes at your outburst, taking in your teary lashes and wobbling lip, “Baby...”

“I only wear your stuff because I know that you’re busy…” You admit, looking away from his annoyingly understanding expression, “I’m not your only priority and this way-“ you move your arms up, showing off the baggy attire, “I can be close to you even when you don’t necessarily want to be close to me.” You conclude, wrapping your oversized arms around your torso, “And for the record, you smell like caramel and copper.” You add haughtily, up turning your nose.

“Really?” He asks innocently. You nod, one choppy movement before you harrumph and look away from his entertained face.

“Baby. you’re right, you aren’t my only priority. But you’re my first priority. And who said I don’t want to be with you?” He pats your knee, signalling for you to stand so that he can wrap his hands around your waist, pulling you into his chest, “I love you, my baby, and I’m sorry that you had to resort to wearing my clothes instead of just asking me to stay with you.” He kisses the crown of your head, inhaling the pungent smell of your cranberry conditioner.

“I don’t want you to feel bad!” You pull away from him, scrunching your nose at his guilty expression, “I like your clothes, they’re comfortable and I can’t possibly ask you to stay with me 24/7?”

“You can!” He insists, squeezing you ardently, “You’re my fiancé, and about to be my wife, you’re meant to be able to ask me. Because I will always say yes. No matter what.”

“Charles...”

“Amour” He mimics your scolding tone.

“You’re so busy my love, I can’t do that.” You nuzzle your head into his chest, making him laugh at your antics.

“You can-“ He takes your cheeks in his hands, squeezing them together so that your lips pucker comically, he leans down to leave a wet kiss on your lips, “-and if I don’t get such demands from you, I will be very sad.” He pouts down at you.

You sigh, “hmkay.” You manage to speak through your forced pucker, furrowing your brows with concentration. You knew he was merely humouring you, cajoling you like a child so that you would do as he asked, but hey, it was a good enough reason to do exactly what you wanted.

“Mia dolce bambina, così adorabile, non vedo l'ora che tu diventi mia moglie, forse allora non ti sentirai in colpa per avermi dedicato il mio tempo.” He continues to press his lips against yours, making you giggle.

“charmles, too much ithalian,” You lisp through your cheeks whilst squeezing your eyes together, accepting his affection happily.

“Too much Italian? In quale altro modo potrei dirti quanto voglio che tu occupi tutto il mio tempo senza che tu ti allontani da me? Mia timida bambolina, continuerò a ricoprirti del mio amore finché non potrai accettarlo in abbondanza."He grins at you cheekily, watching as you translate it slowly in your mind.

“Babe...” You whine, managing to wriggle free from his grip on your cheeks to hide your face in the crook of his neck whilst wrapping your forearms around him.

“You can have all of my sweatshirts baby, and all of me” He whispers, raking his hands through your hair.

“I love you,” You breathe out in reply, kissing the skin on his neck.

“I love you too.”

📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion available...over

📻 Kchh...french....to english....over

Mon amour - My love

Amour - love

Mon Ange - my angel

d’accord - All right

À toute à l'heure - See you later

je suis à la maison, mon amour - I’m home, my love

Juste - Right

📻 Kchh...italian....to english....over

Mia dolce bambina, così adorabile, non vedo l'ora che tu diventi mia moglie, forse allora non ti sentirai in colpa per avermi dedicato il mio tempo. - My sweet little girl, so adorable, I can't wait for you to become my wife, maybe then you won't feel guilty for taking up my time.

In quale altro modo potrei dirti quanto voglio che tu occupi tutto il mio tempo senza che tu ti allontani da me? Mia timida bambolina, continuerò a ricoprirti del mio amore finché non potrai accettarlo in abbondanza.  - How else could I tell you how much I want you to take up all my time without you shying away from me? My shy little doll, I will continue to shower you with my love until you can accept it in abundance.

📻 Kchhhhh.loosing sign....al.....kcchh....over and out...

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x you #f1blr #Spotify #[darlingwrites]

[cabotwife]

Could you do a smut dom dynamics dom!johanna and sub!reader with something involving that elevator scene?

thank you for your request! i'm truly sorry if this is poorly written, it's my first time writing smut

Dress

Johanna Mason x Fem!Reader

warnings: smut, poorly written smut at that, pwp basically ig bc i cannot write

word count: 1792

a/n: forgive me.

--

as you ascend the final step to the seventh floor, a soft hum escaping your lips, you glance around at the familiar surroundings. the elevators were bustling with activity, so you chose the more solitary path of the numerous stairs. you've made this journey with one destination in mind: Johanna’s floor. you intend to spend some quality time with her, a quiet moment amidst the chaos of the day, of the entire idea of the upcoming games.

your attention is immediately drawn by the sound of her voice echoing down the hallway. a sense of excitement and anticipation wells up within you as you hurriedly pace towards the source. “Johanna?” you call out, your gaze settling on the tall figure standing in the hallway. to your surprise, she's completely naked.

she turns to look at you, a playful smirk playing on her lips. “hey, y/n, what brings you here?” she asks, her tone light and teasing. she begins strolling towards her room, and you fall into step behind her, struggling to keep your eyes averted from her exposed form.

“i...i just wanted to see you..” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper, your cheeks tingling with a blush.

“is that so?” she responds, her eyebrow arched in curiosity as she pivots on her heel, officially facing you while she steps backwards into her room.

your gaze inadvertently drops to the fullness of her breasts before you quickly force your eyes upwards, then away from the brunette entirely. your cheeks feel like they're on fire as you try your hardest not to stare.

“hey, look at me." Johanna reaches out to cup your jaw, gently turning your face towards hers. a confident grin appears on her lips as she takes in your flushed features. “you’re a little red, princess..” she teases, her thumb soothingly rubbing against your heated cheek.

ignoring the pounding in your chest, you manage to mumble out, “why are you naked?” your eyes are wide, innocence shining through.

her chuckle resonates in the quiet room, “why aren’t you?” she counters teasingly, a hand resting on your waist while the other traces the delicate strap of your silky green dress.

“god, Jo.." you whisper, a sharp intake of breath as she pulls you closer, your bodies now pressed against each other as you breathe in sync, your breaths mingling.

your eyes flicker down to her lips, but that fleeting glance is all it takes. the brunette takes this as an invitation, surging forward to push her lips onto yours.

you reciprocate without hesitation, your arms instinctively moving to loop around her neck, pulling her closer. the kiss is passionate, her lips soft and warm against yours. you part your lips slightly, allowing her to deepen the kiss.

you begin to pull away slowly, but she's not done with you yet. she chases after your lips, your bodies pressed together in a heated embrace. her hand begins to toy with the hem of your dress, tugging it higher with each passing moment. the taste of her breath is intoxicating, and you can feel the rhythmic thudding of your heartbeats merging into one.

“god." she breathes out, pulling back to look at you. “you’re so pretty, baby.” she mumbles, tugging your dress up further, revealing your white lace panties.

her hands glide over your waist, gripping it possessively before guiding you into a sitting position on her bed.

she drops down, positioning herself on her knees between the spread of your thighs, and in an almost teasing manner, prevents you from snapping them shut. her hands glide along the stretch of your skin, both gentle and firm, eliciting a soft, surprised exhale from you. your gaze is drawn downward, landing on the brunette girl averting her attention solely on you, comfortably kneeling between your oh-so-willingly open legs.

"so pretty.." she murmurs in a hushed whisper, her words barely audible. as if to punctuate her comment, she trails a series of kisses along the inside of your left thigh. each one is wet, hot, and tantalizingly close to where you yearn for her attention the most. “take your dress off, hm?” she maintains a steady, intense eye contact with you as she leans her cheek against your thigh, her warm breath lightly fanning against the fabric of your panties.

your cheeks flush a heated red as you heed her command, hastily pulling your dress up and over your head. she reaches out to take the discarded garment from your hands, tossing it carelessly away from the bed with a devilish smirk painted on her lips.

her eyes scan over your exposed body with a predatory gaze, her hands trailing up from your thighs, tracing the contours of your abdomen, before settling on your breasts. her hands hover over your full breasts, the anticipation causing an involuntary shiver to run down your spine, before she retracts them, returning her focus back to your thighs, pushing herself up slightly.

“Johanna..” your voice soft and pleading as she begins pressing sloppy, wet kisses to your lower abdomen.

“hm?” she hums in response, her voice muffled as she continues to mark your skin, making her way down to your panty line.

“please.” you whisper, your fingers finding their way into her neat, brown hair. she looks up at you, her eyes holding a glint of mischief as she sucks another hickey into the skin underneath the hem of your panties, her finger hooking into the waistband to begin to tug them down your thighs.

she arches an eyebrow in a silent question as your eyes meet, both blown wide in a shared lust and need for one another. “please what, sweet girl?” she asks in a low, teasing tone. by this point, your panties had been discarded, thrown to the same place she had tossed your dress.

“god- Johanna.. just, please.” you whimper, your hips arching upwards in a silent plea, your cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire.

the brunette tuts, pulling her face away from your body completely. you let out a near pitiful sound at the sudden loss of contact. “just tell me what you want, come on baby..” she grins up at you, her eyes never leaving yours.

“fuck me, please- i.. please fuck me, ‘anna,” you mumble, your hand tightening its grip in her hair in an attempt to guide her to where you needed hr, “need you..” you whisper, your eyes locked onto her smug smirk. and before you can even process your own words, she’s diving headfirst into your beyond soaked core.

you gasp, a jolt of pleasure causing your face to scrunch up.

Johanna’s lips suck harshly at your clit as she slowly prods a finger against your entrance. her mouth never leaves your sensitive bud as she pushes her digit in, quickly going from one finger to three.

you let out a deep, guttural moan, your body instinctively bucking your hips towards her face in a desperate search for more contact. she counteracts your movements, her strong hands pressing against your thighs to hold your squirming body in place. “feels so good,” you moan out, your fingers finding their way into her hair, tugging at it in a primal display of pleasure.

“yeah, baby?” she responds, her voice a low, sultry murmur against your clit, “god, you’re so wet for me.” her lips press a lingering kiss to your clit once more before beginning a slow, torturous journey up your body. she guides you to lay back on the bed, her body hovering over yours, a protective and dominating presence.

she takes her time as she reaches your breasts, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin before her mouth descends on your nipple. her fingers continue their relentless rhythm inside of you, her palm taking over the duty of her tongue on your clit.

your hips instinctively find a rhythm with her thrusts, her eyes, dark and filled with lust, never leaving your face as she watches your reactions. your head falls back, a silent testament to the pleasure she’s causing you.

she increases the pressure of her palm against your clit, grinding it against you, her moans vibrating against your nipple as one of your hands leaves her hair, instead opting to grip at her back, trying to pull her closer to you.

a sharp gasp escapes you as she nips at your nipple, your nails unintentionally digging into the soft skin of her back, marking her as yours.

Johanna can’t help the smug smirk that graces her face when she feels your pussy begin to tighten around her fingers. “gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” she pants against your nipple before continuing her journey up your body, her lips finally meeting yours.

she captures your lips in a passionate kiss, her thrusts increasing in speed. your lips part in surprise as she kisses you, your moan swallowed by her mouth. your hips buck near wildly and your nails drag down her back.

“Jo,” you whimper into her mouth, “please, god, please…” the passionate blush on your face deepens as she showers you with sloppy kisses, her lips journeying from your mouth to your ear. she pants heavily against it, the sound sending shivers down your spine.

a loud, unrestrained cry escapes you as your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing under her. your back arches off the bed, your face scrunching up in an expression of pure bliss.

Johanna does everything in her power to prolong your climax, wanting to make it as pleasurable as possible for you. eventually, she slips her fingers from your still spasming pussy as she sits up, sliding off of you. she grins down at her fingers, soaked in your juices, and slowly takes them in her mouth.

a soft gasp escapes your lips as you watch her moan around her own fingers.

Johanna hums contentedly as she finishes, flopping herself backwards on the bed and pulling you towards her. the both of you lay there in silence for a few moments, just trying to catch your breath.

“you did so good for me,” she whispers, her fingers lightly tracing patterns up and down your spine.

a soft chuckle escapes you as you nuzzle your face into her chest, her arms wrapping around you in a comforting hold. “you did good too,” you hum, emphasizing your next words, “really good.” you look up to meet her gaze, her eyes soft as they gaze down at you, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

she lets out a soft laugh, her hand moving to press a tender kiss to your sweaty hairline, “go to sleep, baby, we've got a big day tomorrow,” she mumbles.

#johanna mason x reader #johanna mason #the hunger games #thg x reader #katniss everdeen x reader #finnick odair x reader #peeta mellark x reader #smut

[delicatebarness]

i think he knows | chapter three

Summary: Reader and Bucky get caught. Twice.

Warnings: Probably just Bucky smoking. If you think there is any then please let me know so I can add it.

Word Count: 1792

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A/N: Three chapters in one day, who am I? Also, this one hasn't been proofread so there most likely will be typos and/or mistakes.

Tags: @bigtreefest | @caplanbuckybarnes | @angelbabyyy99 | @mega-kittyglitter-1

You jumped at the unexpected visitor, your heart began to race as you recognized Bucky now standing near your window, in your bedroom. Once again, his signature smirk found its way across his lips. You were momentarily speechless as his scent and aura filled the room.

“Bucky?” you asked, you tried to keep your voice steady and quiet, despite the rush of adrenaline running through you. “What are you doing here?” Rushing over to the window, you pushed Bucky to the side slightly so you could close it along with your curtain. You glanced over to Peter’s bedroom window while you pulled the curtains. You were met with dark brown eyes staring back at you. There was no way that he didn’t see the senior climbing in, or standing right there. 

Bucky never took his eyes off you, stepping closer the second you stopped messing with the curtains. “I couldn’t resist,” his voice was low and smooth. “I told you I’d see you around.” Your mind began to race, how do you respond to an unsuspected visit like this? You knew Steve would feel betrayed if he walked back in here. There was a part of you that was torn between the excitement of having Bucky so close and the choice you had made less than two minutes ago.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Bucky,” Taking a step back, you added a distance between you two. “ Steve doesn’t want me to see you.”

You sensed that you just added fuel to the fire Bucky had created as his smirk widened and closed the gap between the two of you. “As far as I can see, Sunshine, Stevie isn’t here. Is he?” Placing a finger under your chin, he tilted your head up to make eye contact with you. For the second time that day, you shook your head at him. “No, just you and me.”

Despite your judgment call merely moments ago, there was no way to deny the pull he had on you. With all the warnings ringing through your head, both in your voice and Steve’s, you still couldn't help but feel a magnetic pull towards him. 

“You should go,” you tried to sound firm but your voice wavered. “This isn’t right.” You jolted your head slightly so it was no longer being held by his finger. His expression softened, letting out a sigh while gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Maybe it’s not right,” Bucky admitted, his voice was barely a whisper. You lifted your head to try and get a read on his face. “But, it feels right, doesn’t it?”

You hesitated in your response, you could hear the rational voice of Steve in your head but Bucky’s touch was sending shivers down your spine. It was proving to be incredibly difficult to resist him. 

Just as you were about to respond, a knocking at your bedroom door ripped you both from your intense stare out. The knocks were closely followed by Steve’s voice calling your name. You started to panic as you turned to face the door, realizing that Steve could walk in at any second and find Bucky standing in your room. 

“This guy,” Muttering under his breath, you sensed a newfound panic coming from Bucky, his eyes had widened and they were scanning the room for suitable hiding spots. Without another thought you hurried Bucky toward the window and gestured for him to climb back down. He hesitated for a moment, looking back at you before whispering, “Goodnight Sunshine.” You replied with a quick, “Goodnight James.” as he started his climb. 

You took deep breaths to try and steady your pulse as Steve entered your room, he furrowed in confusion as he took in the sight of you at the window.

“Dinner’s ready, dad’s impatient,” He eyes you skeptically for a moment before, pointing towards the window. “I hope you’re closing that, Mom will go crazy if she smells that breeze.” You nodded in response to him, forcing a smile, you watched as he started to make his way down to the dinner table. Turning back to the window, you watched as Bucky walked his motorbike down the street, catching the moment he glanced back up at your window. 

So much for staying away.

~

The next afternoon, you sat in the school library buried beneath a stack of textbooks and sheets of class notes. It had been quiet for the most part, you were focused on your schoolwork, so focused you never sensed someone sitting down beside you. 

“Has anyone ever told you your concentration face is adorable?” You looked up to find Bucky sitting in the chair next to you, his face so close you’re almost bumping noses. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, you thought maybe the library would have been your safe space. No Steve telling you what, when, where, why, or how, and no Bucky filling you with both dread and excitement. Yet, here one of them was. 

“There’s never been anyone not scared of my brother enough to.” You confessed one of the few things that truly annoyed you about being the youngest Rogers. You watched as a glint appeared in his eyes as he shrugged.

“Your concentration face is adorable.” He spoke with confidence, proving to you that Steve does not instill any fear in him. You couldn’t help but notice his casual glance over your lips as you smiled at his comment. You’ve read enough books and watched enough shows to know what that look meant. Was he going to do it? Now? Here? 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched his head tilt slightly to the side, his hand coming up to hold your cheek just like at his locker. His gaze never left your lips as his smirk once again appeared. 

“It feels like we should,” You found yourself melting under his touch, every second that passed with his skin against yours, you felt yourself weakening. Just as you were about to give in to temptation, a throat being cleared broke you from your haze. 

Looking up you found Peter sitting back in the seat across from you, the look of suspicion was evident as he looked between you and Bucky with curiosity and confusion. “Pete!” You exclaimed, you tried to keep your voice calm and light but the panic that rose from your chest turned it into a high-pitched squeal. 

“Found the book we needed for Bio,” his reply was casual, despite being the only other person who knew about Bucky’s visit last night but not yet knowing why. “Didn’t expect this when I came back.” Using his pen, he gestured between you and Bucky. 

A sinking feeling started to settle in your stomach, you knew that you had to explain to Peter what he saw last night. You worried that his suspicions could make this whole thing more complicated than it already was, his loyalty to Steve was also a factor you had to take into account. It wasn’t looking good on your end. 

Bucky left shortly after Peter referred to his presence, he didn’t make up any excuses for why he was leaving. He knew he already was risking a lot just by letting Peter see what almost happened. Once he was out of the library, you explained everything to Peter. Told him truthfully about how you were feeling, what happened the night before, and what he had walked into. 

~

You decided that morning that you wanted to stay back late and use the library to study, Steve offered to wait back for you to drive you home but you declined. He had plans with Sharon that night and didn’t want to keep them waiting. The town was small enough for you to walk home and get there way before dark anyway. 

The hallways were empty now, your footsteps echoed as you found your way toward the exit. Just as you walked out of the front doors of the school, you were greeted by Bucky leaning against the wall of the steps with a cigarette hanging from his lips. For a split second, you found yourself thinking about how you’d like to be that cigarette. Your cheeks flushing at the thought. 

“What are you still doing here?” You asked, looking around the almost empty parking lot. You admired him as he walked down the steps and used the bins provided to put out and dispose of the cigarette. He motioned toward his bike with the helmet he carried in his left hand. 

“Noticed you didn’t go home with Steve, or, leave with that Wanda or Peter you hang around with, so,” Once again, he gestured toward the bike. “Guessed you were still at the library and in need of a ride home.” Surprised as was an understatement, you couldn’t grasp onto the idea that this person, waited almost two hours extra after the last bell to offer you a ride home. You still hesitated to accept, you had never rode on a motorbike before. Everyone was quick to explain to you the dangers of driving and riding them from a young age. Also, it would be Bucky driving and someone could see you. 

“I, I don’t know,” Your newfound stutter had made a return as Bucky stepped closer to you, handing the helmet to you while taking your textbooks. 

“Come on, Sunshine, it’s late,” He sighed as he started to walk through the parking lot. “I promise I’ll get you home safe.” 

In that moment of uncertainty, his words offered a sense of reassurance that allowed you to nod in agreement with him. You put the helmet on as you walked, clipping it into place, you realized that he only had one with him. He lifted the seat to reveal an area for your textbooks to hide, but still no helmet. 

“Woah, what are you doing?” He exclaimed, reaching out and placing a hand on top of the helmet, stopping you from taking it off further. “We’ve got to make sure that pretty head of yours is protected.” Moving his hand down to your chin, he clipped it back together.

“But, what about-” He gave you a stern look, placing a finger over your lips to cut you off. Once he knew you wouldn’t protest anymore, he helped you climb onto the bike. After he explained some basic safety rules to you, the engine began to roar. The unfamiliar vibrations startled you, wrapping your arms tighter around Bucky’s torso. 

As you clung onto Bucky, you pushed aside your doubts and let yourself enjoy the thrill of both riding a motorbike and being alone with Bucky.

---

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#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky fic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #high school au #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #bucky barnes x you #i think he knows #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x sister!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader

[lxdyred]

Among snakes I shall dance, ch.2: It felt like love.

Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Targaryen!Fem!Reader

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Summary: Rhaenyra's firstborn finds herself surrounded by the greens and, to her misfortune, betrothed to one of them. So she begins to plan how to take them down, one by one, from the inside.

Word count: 6.6k

Warning: Allusions to incestuous relationship, use of obscene language, mentions of sexual assault and graphic death. some characters might be a bit out of character.

A/N: Italics are flashbacks!

A/N: AYOOOOOO GUYS!!!! 1792 NOTES SO FAR IN THE FIRST PART???¿? +300 FOLLOWERS IN 5 DAYS???!¡¿ THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYSSS I’M LITERALLY CRYING FFR!! You just made my week, honestly!! I really hope you enjoy how this story is going! This is for you ❤️🫡

Feedback is always appreciated ❤️

She had to get the message to her mother, somehow. So she prayed that the time would come where he could escape to send a message by raven.

‘From the inside I will finish them off. Whatever happens, don't bend the knee. We will resist, mother.’

She read the message for the tenth time and snorted, putting her hands on her head and closing her beautiful eyes. "

Fuck..."

She cursed that she had missed the opportunity her mother had given her to come home with them. But of course, seeing that her grandmother was going to be alone in Driftmark, taking care of her grandfather, who was still on the verge of death from the ambush he suffered, her honor weighed more heavily in the balance. She did not want to turn her back on them at such a delicate time.

The sun had not yet risen when her prayers were answered.

"Ser Erryk." whispered as she saw the knight, opening the door to the room.

"Princess, we are leaving." The knight said, passing her a cloak to cover herself with. "I do not agree with anything that is happening, with this sick treachery. It is an atrocity, just like your betrothal."

"And my grandmother?" The young woman asked as she covered herself with the cloak.

"We will go to get her now. I will take you both to a ship that will take you back home." The knight, who was a twin to Ser Arryk, spoke before resting a hand on the princess's shoulder. "I promise I will do my best to get you both out of here."

Then she took the note from the table and clutched it in her own fist. She also took the ring her parents gave her with the emblems of House Targaryen and Velaryon, and the small pouch in which she always stuffed a few coins. After that they left the chambers and went for Princess Rhaenys, stealthily and swiftly. Whenever Ser Erryk saw guards, he told the princess to hide, so far they had had good luck.

"Lady Grandmother." Said the young woman taking her grandmother's hands, once they were reunited.

"My sweet girl." Rhaenys said, before kissing her granddaughter's cheek. "I heard what they wanted to do to you. Are you all right? They did not do anything to you, did they?"

"No, I am just fine, glad you are as well, really."

"Princesses, we must leave now." Spoke the kingsguard who was trying to help them escape from the Red Keep.

"And Meleys and Scarlex? We can not leave them behind."

"It is not safe to go to Dragonpit now, Princess. I am afraid we could not make it. Going by boat is the best, safest option." Ser Erryk explained before they reached the exit through which they would leave the Keep.

"Wait." The princess stopped before they could continue. "I need you to take this with you, Grandmother." She whispered handing the note she had written for her mother to her grandmother. "I need you to be the one to give it to my mother in case we get separated."

"That is not going to happen." Said the queen that never was, looking down at the small roll she now held in her hand.

"Better to be cautious, do not you think? That is something you made a sure of teaching me." Said the silver-haired girl looking at the note in her grandmother's hand.

"Sometimes you remind me of your father, my child." Spoke the older woman hiding the message.

Only if you knew.

"Aemond!" Called the Velaryon girl as she ran across the training yard. "Aemond!" The young girl ran with a huge smile on her face, as she looked for her uncle, who was currently alone training.

"Niece." Said the young boy, stopping shielding the sword, when he saw his niece and best friend come to where he was. "Has something happened?"

The young lady rested her hands on her knees and gestured for him to give her a moment, to catch her breath after all the running around the fortress, trying to find him. She looked up and gave the prince a huge smile. "It's a boy." The silver-haired girl said with difficulty, still struggling to normalise her breathing.

The young Targaryen arched an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?" The boy said, abandoning his sword and looking for a place where they could both sit and talk.

"My mother, the princess, has given birth to a boy. Another brother, Joffrey is his given name." Said the girl with tears of happiness. "He is a healthy boy. But very wrinkled and- he will not stop crying, gods." She told Aemond with a crystallized look in her eyes because of the joyful emotion she felt. After saying that, she took a seat next to the Targaryen Prince.

"Congratulations are in order, then." Aemond smiled at her and placed his hand on hers, who gladly took it and squeezed it before letting out a laugh. "Another nephew, hm? I was expecting for a girl this time.”

"Me too, if I am being honest." She admitted, looking up at him. As she watched her lifelong friend look at her intently, she felt herself blush, for some strange reason she didn't understand. "It is a hot day, it is not?." She commented in a whisper, lowering her gaze and looking down at the ground, as if it was something very interesting.

"You came running, that is why you must feel like that." Aemond stared at the girl, intently, for the first time in as long as he could remember he was staring at her like that. She was changing, and he had not noticed, not until now. His feelings of friendship, unable to help it, were doing so as well.

Realising that what he was feeling for her was something new and more mature, the boy pulled away from her and released her hand, causing the princess to look up and look at him with concern.

"Are you alright, Aemond?" His blue gaze met hers after hearing the question. "You are quite red." The young girl observed.

He was even redder now.

"Yes. I am just fine." Lied the young prince. "I forgot I have your nameday gift here. I wanted to give it to you when we were alone."

"Why would you have it here?" she asked curiously.

A smile formed on his face. "In case I found you later." Lied the Targaryen boy again.

He carried it with him all the time, but could never find the time to give it to his dearest friend and niece.

"Close your eyes, do not look, hm?"

"Never." She whispered.

The young prince stepped around her friend, and once behind her, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold necklace, simple and unobtrusive, with a medallion. It was a simple medallion with a three-headed dragon. The emblem of House Targaryen.

"A three-headed dragon, of House Targaryen." The young woman commented as she looked at the gift that her uncle and friend had given her. "It is beautiful, my prince. Thank you very much, but..."

"But?" the silver-haired boy asked, terrified that deep down she didn't like the gift.

"I am a… Velaryon. Not Targaryen, my mother is but-"

"But you could be one, officially, in the future, in some years, when you shall to be wed.”

"Grandmother, no! No! No! Grandmother!" shouted the young Velaryon as she was separated from her grandmother and Ser Erryk, due to the hordes of people being led towards Dragonpit, where the coronation was to take place. "Fuck!" She screamed out of desperation, as she tried to backtrack and turn back. A desperate attempt to get back to the only two people she trusted in the city.

She cast her gaze back and could see them slowly drifting further apart. Rheanys' face showed her desperation to be reunited with her, she tried to look for her granddaughter with her eyes, but at one point she lost her in the tide of people. She should have tried harder not to lose her grip, she thought.

Amidst pushing and shoving, the young princess managed to make herself climb up a small brick wall. Once she stood up on it, she tried to look around for the knight and the princess, but no luck. She only hoped that at least her grandmother could escape from the death trap, which was the fucking capital.

"Seven hells, what am I supposed to do now?" She mumbled, still looking from the top of the wall for an exit, where there were almost no people, let alone guards and soldiers.

"Girl. Get down from there now." Someone spoke to her, she looked out of the corner of her eye at the person who had addressed her, she tried to cover her face as much as possible with her cloak, so that she wouldn't be recognised. "If you do not come down on your own, I will take you down by force."

She really was very unlucky at that moment, when the man who had addressed her, was exactly Rickard Thorne, a fucking Kingsguard loyal to the green snakes. A fucking traitor.

"Apologies, Ser. I was just looking for my companions, with whom I was to attend the coronation." She said, trying to change her tone of voice and not looking at him. "No need to worry about me, I will get down." She tried to be as agile as possible to get down, so she could run as far away from the guard as possible.

The last thing she wanted was to be recognised.

As she was about to get down, she almost tripped, stepping on her own dress. The knight had very good reflexes and caught her before she could fall.

The young princess had a lot of bad luck at that moment.

"Be more careful, woman."

"Thank you." She whispered as she hurried away from the spot, clutched the cloak even tighter as she covered herself with it. That had been a close call.

At least she had already gotten rid of the guard, who was part of the Kingsguard, no less. Surely they had noticed her and her Lady Grandmother's escape by now.

"Hey, girl, you left this behind," said Rickard, looking at the bag of coins he had just picked up from the floor. "What are you doing with so much gold? Who did you steal from?"

Fuck.

"You can keep it, as compensation." She said as she tried to pick up her pace, she wanted to run but it was practically impossible.

"Get back here!" Thorne said as he headed towards her, pushing people out of his way.

Double fuck.

Now was when it was her turn to run, even if it was impossible.

As the young princess tried to flee the scene, she was pushing people out of the way and into the Kingsguard who was practically on her heels. She looked around desperately, she needed a way out.

She was so desperate.

Luckily, she could see a way out by her right, where there were not so many people. She started to run there, and saw a small, dark and smelly alley. She ran as if there was no tomorrow.

As she ran up the street, she was bumping into people going in the opposite direction, she could also hear Rickard shouting at her, telling her to stop or ordering the people near her to catch her. But no one seemed to be in the mood, thanks to the seven.

Until an elderly man tried to catch her. He grabbed her by the arms and took a small dagger he carried with him, placing it on the young woman's neck, who instinctively stomped on his foot with all her might, and then bit him on the wrist that held the dagger. The man dropped it, bringing his other hand to the bloody wound. She picked up the dagger, but not before kicking the man in the balls, who now lay on the ground doubled over in pain.

She kept running as fast as she could, Thorne much closer than before, because of the time she had lost facing the passer-by.

"You have no escape, thief." Said the Kingsguard, once he had the young woman at the end of the alley. "Surrender or the punishment will be worse."

Flight or fight.

"Bullshit, you traitor." She said as she stopped and turned around, pointing him with the dagger she had just seized of.

"Princess." He said in surprise when he saw the princess's face, but quickly a smirk of superiority formed on his face. "You don't know what a commotion it has caused in the Keep to see that neither you, nor Princess Rhaenys were in your chambers."

"A pity I didn't get to see the faces of the incompetents in that place."

"Come on, Princess, put the dagger down." The knight requested.

"Not without using it first."

"You think you can beat me? A knight of the Kingsguard?" the man in front of her laughed, one hand on the pommel of his sword. "Do you think a woman stands a chance against a knight?"

"No, of course I do not." The silver-haired girl feigned confusion. "But at least I can amuse myself for a while while I play with your patience."

"That's not very ladylike of you, princess."

"Did anyone say I care in the least about that?"

Ser Rickard clutched at the sword dagger, truly the young woman was playing with his patience like no woman had ever done before.

"Oh, come now, Ser Rickard. Will you not at least give me the pleasure of putting into practice everything my stepfather has taught me these past few years?"

"Believe me, Princess, I would gladly do so, but both the Kingsguard Commander and the Queen would prefer that you return to the Red Keep unharmed." Thorne explained as he took a step towards her.

"Oh, how sweet of you..." father.

“Put the dagger down, now."

"Or what? You'll kill me?" The princess made a false grimace of sadness, then smiled at the knight. "I just wanted to play swords with you, well daggers, rather." She dropped the dagger to the ground, only for the knight to take her arm firmly and set off on the way back.

"Are we going to the coronation?"

"No." No doubt the man was running out of patience, and it amused the young Velaryon, who even though she was being led back to the Keep had a triumphant smile on her face.

"Good, because if I would wanted to see a jesters’ show I would have stayed in the Red Keep.”

"You could have your tongues cut out for talking like that."

The young woman let out a loud laugh. "Not long ago someone told me exactly the same thing you did, Ser."

"You are leaving now, so I hear from father." Aemond spoke with a sad expression, then watched as his friend played with the necklace he had given her a couple of days ago.

The Velaryon girl nodded, then wiped away her tears with one hand. There was a knot forming in her stomach and throat, every time she tried to talk to her best friend the tears threatened to spill out. "Mhm." She nodded, avoiding the young prince with her eyes.

"And you are not going to say anything before you leave? Just 'mhm'?"

"It is just that- I know that... I- if I try to tell you anything I know I will cry even more, I will not be able to stop." The young princess's lower lip trembled.

"I would rather you do that and try to comfort you than leave without crossing any words." The young boy admitted.

"Thank you for being my friend, Aemond. I know we are family, but your friendship means a lot to me." Confessed the girl from the house Velaryon, then burst into tears and put her hands to her face, trying to hide her face from her friend.

"Thank you for being the only one who understands me, Princess." The young Targaryen whispered as he grabbed the young girl’s shoulders, then pulled her to him and gave her a hug. She hugged him back.

"For being the only person in the family besides you without a dragon?"

"And for everything else."

"I am going to miss you." She whispered, with immense sadness.

He hated the huge emptiness he felt in his chest at the thought of not seeing her every day.

"And I you." He said likewise, as he ran a hand through her hair, trying to memorise how it felt to his touch.

They stood for a few moments in silence, pondering whether or not to say more. Neither had the courage to tell the other how they felt, and in a way, they were too young to even be thinking about it, since those feelings only came when you were older, supposedly. Or maybe not?

"You should leave now. Your Lady Mother will be waiting for your return," Aemond spoke, regretfully.

"You are right." The girl murmured as she broke the embrace, then grabbed her friend's hands in an attempt to get his attention. "I will try to write to you as often as possible."

"I will try the same."

"Good."

"Good."

"I will see you soon, I hope."

"Y-Yes. Soon..." neither knew exactly what to say to say goodbye, let alone not knowing how long they wouldn't see each other for.

Then something happened that caught Aemond Targaryen by surprise. His friend and niece, the princess, with both hands cupped his face and placed a brief, nervous peck on his lips, leaving him breathless and wide-eyed.

"Goodbye, my prince." Said the silver-haired girl nervously before running out of the place in search of her family.

Aemond, still wide-eyed, and in apparent shock at what had just happened, slowly turned around and stared in the direction she had disappeared.

He held up a hand as if in farewell. "Goodbye, I suppose."

He spent the rest of the day without saying a word to anyone. He didn't know whether or not to believe what had happened in that little encounter with his friend. But when he went to sleep that night, he did so with a small smile on his face.

The rest of the day passed in a blur for her, after Ser Rickard Thorne had taken her back to the castle, to be met by none other than the Kingsguard commander himself, Ser Criston Cole, her beloved father - gods, the joy it gave her to see the torment in his eyes after discovering his paternity - who escorted her back to her chambers, where Alicent, now Queen Mother, awaited her.

"What you did today was stupid." Was the first thing Alicent said to her as she saw her enter her room and heard the door being closed by Ser Criston. "Something could have happened to you."

"Something worse than what is about to happen this very night, my queen?" the young woman asked as she approached the centre of the room.

"If you had met someone dangerous your life could have been in danger. Imagine if they had come to kidnap you or assaulted you, taking your virtue." Alicent spoke as she approached the young woman, who in the next few hours was to become his daughter-in-law.

The young woman laughed wryly at the last words of the mother of the new usurper king. "There is no need to pretend you care about me, your highness. There is no one here but us."

"You were lucky you did not suffer a worse fate today, princess. You could have gotten yourself killed."

"That would have been a more merciful fate than the one I am living right now, locked up here and surrounded by traitors!" Exploded the young woman, as she made her way to the small table on which she kept the wine. She picked up two glasses and poured the liquid into both of them. "Any fate is better than this. I would rather be dead right now, than here being used as a pawn in your evil plan." She offered a glass to Alicent, who took it and took a sip.

"I do not think being married to the king's brother, who in your childhood was your best friend, is a cruel fate."

Now it was the young Velaryon's turn to take a sip from her cup, this one being longer than the one the queen took. "Yes, when the love you once felt for him has turned to immeasurable hatred." She blurted out, accompanied by a small smile.

The next few hours were spent wandering around her room and drinking wine, occasionally standing by the window to watch the people pass by, nothing interesting. But once the time came, she was led to the throne room, where the ceremony would take place. Thank the gods it looked like it would be an intimate ceremony.

The ceremony began when Aegon, the great son of a bitch and usurper who now warmed the throne with his ass, walked her to the altar, where Aemond, with his head held high and no expression on his face, stood waiting for her. His fucking handsome face, made her sick.

She clicked her tongue as she realised the intrusive thought that had just crossed her mind. "Pathetic." She mumbled before she reached where her future husband was waiting for her.

Huge was the relief she felt as she slipped from Aegon's grasp. The disgust she felt for this man, sadly her uncle, was inhuman. How she wished she could cut off his head and give it to her dear mother. She thought as she gave him a look of disgust, after he had left her at the isle.

She looked up at Aemond, who was watching her from top to bottom. She raised her head defiantly, to which he let out an arrogant little chuckle, shaking his head. She looked at him again, in detail. She looked at his face, it seemed to show serenity and determination, there was still a small smile on his stupid face. It seemed that nothing that was about to happen caused any kind of reaction in him. She, on the other hand, felt a knot in the pit of her stomach and her breathing was agitated, no matter how well she hid it, her nerves were killing her.

Before she could even process anything, they were already deep into the ceremony. The Septon asked Aemond to place the cloak over the young Velaryon, to protect her from the eyes of the people and the gods.

"You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection." Then came the sermon. "We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever."

It was now that they both held hands. Her hands trembled, but not his. The Targaryen prince really wasn't the least bit shaken by what was happening. He took her hand firmly, and with his thumb, he drew circular patterns on the back of it. It made her look at him and let out a hitched breath. That gesture was something they both used to do when they were children, as a signal to focus… and trust.

Was he trying to help her calm down?

A ribbon was literally tied around their hands, symbolising their union. "Let it be known that these two people are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder."

So she, herself would be cursed if she tried?

The young man who wore the patch looked at the one who was to be his wife from now on, watched as tears formed in her eyes, and as her lower lip trembled briefly, only to be stopped by her biting it. He knew there was an inner conflict gnawing at her. He couldn't help but clench his jaw as he watched the scene.

"In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words." They both faced each other and a few seconds later, after a brief silence in which they stood looking at each other, they proceeded to say their vows.

Aemond took up the gesture he had made earlier, and began to make circular patterns on the back of her hand. The reaction it caused in her was new. It was like a fluttering inside her, as if she had an army of dragons inside her, flying all over her. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days," he recited.

At the same time she said hers. "Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger... I am his and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days."

Oh, seven gods. The moment had come.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love." The silver-haired man took her chin between his index finger and thumb, and with a gentleness she herself believed he lacked, he brought his face close to hers and placed a soft kiss upon her lips.

The act lasted only a few seconds, but she could not help but feel a certain familiarity in the kiss that had just sealed their fate. He felt it that way too.

"You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!" King Viserys shouted angrily, as he shot a glare at Ser Criston.

"It will heal, will it not, Maester?" Alicent asked in anguish to the Maester tending Aemond's wound, who had just lost an eye in a fight with his nephews not long ago.

"Flesh will heal, but the eye is lost, Your Grace." replied the Master to the boy's mother. That answer caused Rhaenyra's eldest daughter to look across the room at the young prince.

The young Velaryon was not present when her two younger brothers and her cousin Baela, got into a fight with Aemond, her best friend, who called her brothers bastards. While this was going on, she was suffering something cruel and disgusting that she wished on no one. Once she was able to extricate herself from her situation, that was the scene she saw, everyone full of wounds and cuts, along with a broken nose for her younger brother and a lost eye for her best friend. Or rather, the one who once was.

She sat against the wall of the Driftmark's great hall, deep in thought, saying nothing, until she heard Alicent say. "Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Targaryen." She stood up with a speed she had never seen in her before, which made her quickly dart into the crowd of people in the middle of the room, where the whole feud was taking place, and stood in front of her grandfather Corlys Velaryon, who was protecting Luke with his own body. Unarmed, she held out her arms, trying to prevent anyone or anything from harming her little brother. She would never allow it.

"You will not do such thing.” She heard her mother say in defence of her youngest son.

"I will bite you hard, Ser Criston." Threatened the long silver-haired girl, trying to sound intimidating.

And after that the discussion became more personal and intense between Rhaenyra and Alicent, once the King stopped Ser Criston from taking Luke's eye and made it clear that anyone who questioned the legitimacy of the princess's children would lose his tongue. Once silence reigned over the place, as the tussle between the two women ended with her mother getting a nasty, bloody cut on her arm, it was the firstborn heir to the throne who spoke first.

"You are all monsters." Were the words that echoed through the great hall, most of those present looked at her. She was resting her gaze on Aegon, and lastly Aemond, at whom she stared with a serious face but also with a frown. She was trying to tell him something. "Real and disgusting monsters." She repeated again but in a whisper, as she put a hand to her neck and tore off the medallion Aemond gave her, then threw it at his feet. He looked at the ground and then back at her.

The boy who, less than an hour ago, had been her best friend all her life, looked at her in the same way, but now his one eye reflected sadness. "Do not mourn me mother, it was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon." After saying those words dedicated to his mother, he looked at her again.

At that moment they both knew that their friendship was completely broken, that the damage was irreparable, and that this was how it was meant to be.

His quarters were clearly much more spacious than hers. It looked as if from now on this was where they were both going to live, to lead a marital life together. She surveyed her surroundings, since the last time she had been there things hadn't changed much. What was most striking now was some pitchers of different alcoholic beverages on a small table in one corner of the room. Also striking was the large number of swords, it was certainly curious that Aemond collected the swords of opponents he had beaten.

"I do not know what your drink of choice is, but here you go." Said her now husband, setting a wine glass down in front of her, who was seated in one of the chairs surrounding the round table. "Dornish wine."

She looked at the glass and took it silently, then took a sip. "I hope you have no expectations of tonight, husband."

He took a seat across from her. "Who said I did, dear wife?"

"You know, the bedding ceremony." She said dryly. "People will want to make sure you fuck your new wife, that our marriage is consummated. I'm sure your brother wants to be a witness and watch you brand me anyway."

He let out a small chuckle and then sighed. "There will be no bedding ceremony." Aemond rested his head on his hand, leaning fully against one of the chair's armrests. "It is not my style to degrade my partner in such a manner."

"What is your style then?"

"Private. Keep it between me and her, at least most of the time."

"Hm, good to know."

"And yours. What is your style?" The husband of the young Velaryon, now Targaryen, asked curiously. She looked at him silently in reply.

"You assume I have lost my virtue, by any chance?"

"Have you not?" the Targaryen prince was curious. "I think it's natural to want to explore when you're young, and lose your virtue."

"Yes. I have- I was- Aemond, yes, I have... done it before." She answered him truthfully.

"With someone I know?"

"Perhaps." With that the girl finished what was left of her drink.

"Ser Criston is out of the question, for starters." At those words she looked at him curiously, he drew a crooked smile on his face. "He is your father, apparently."

"I see you're into eavesdropping."

"Let's just say I prefer to keep up with everything that concerns my wife."

She gave a cynical laugh. "And how does it feel to know that your family has forced you to marry a bastard? Unbeknownst to them.” She asked, narrowing her eyes, expectant for his response.

"I don't care at all." He admitted with a shrug.

"Hm."

"I have a present for you." He said.

"Let me guess. It's a necklace with a medallion with the emblem of House Targaryen?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled that exact thing out of it. That necklace that he had once, six years ago, given to his friend.

"I know you do not trust me, and you never will, probably. But I want you to have this."

"Why would I accept it this time?"

"Because of what it symbolizes, clearly."

"House Targaryen?"

"No. The friendship we once had." The prince with the patched eye said as he rose from his seat. "That even if you do not trust me, I am willing to place my trust in you, and that even if you do not believe it, you will always have my protection."

"You seem to have feelings for me." She commented.

"Did I say I did not?" He admitted in the form of a question. "May I?" he asked for permission to put the necklace on his wife.

She looked at his outstretched hand, which had the necklace on it. She nodded slowly and brushed her long hair away from her neck. Her husband circled her, as he had done the first time he had put the same necklace on her, but now he noticed a slight difference.

A scar. A rather long one on the right side of her neck. It was as if someone had tried to slit her throat once.

Still staring at his wife's scar, Aemond finished placing the necklace around her neck. "I've never seen it on you before."

"I've never liked to show it." She whispered, reaching up to the decanter of wine to put more in the glass. "This is the reason for the name I was given. The Red Mermaid." She sighed as she said her nickname, and as she remembered the reason she was given it. "You would not know its story."

"I have always heard different versions. It is hard to know the real reason behind the name you were given."

"You want me to tell you what really happened, husband?"

"That is your decision to make."

"Make yourself comfortable, it is time for me to tell you a story." She said before taking a long sip of her drink, she was about to finish it and pour herself a third glass.

Aemond took note of this and took the decanter away from her. She had already had too much to drink throughout the day. "Enough for today. Please proceed to tell your tale."

"It all happened four years ago, when I was going through a very dark time." The young woman began to narrate. "I thought of taking my own life. So that night, after dinner, I escaped from my room and went to the beach, the one where most of the ships disembark. I thought, water extinguishes fire, there is no more poetic death for a dragon-blooded Velaryon than drowning. They say it is an agonising death, but in the end, when you stop fighting, a great peace comes over you."

The silver-haired young bastard fiddled with her glass, as she glanced at the fire she had lit in the room's chimney. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes, trying to find the strength to continue the story.

"I had already stopped fighting when someone pulled me out of the water, when someone decided to save me. I couldn't have been more wrong. The person who tried to save me had been watching the whole scene, without me noticing." The young woman gave a sad smile to her husband. "After pulling me out of the water and leaving me on the sand, that man tried to rape me. I do not remember where it came out of me to fight, I don't know when my animal instinct came out of me. One moment I was about to drown and the next I'm lying on the floor of the beach, under the stars of that night, fighting for that not to happen to me again".

"What? You've been assaulted like that before?" Aemond jumped to his feet at that statement from the woman. His knuckles turned white from how hard he clenched his fists.

She continued with her story, not answering his question. "I guess it was my animal instinct and fear of going through the same thing that ended up with me throwing myself at that man's neck. I bit him so hard on the neck, that when he struggled with me… he cut me with his knife on my neck... it wasn't a deep wound, in case you were wondering." She finished her drink again.

She had never told anyone what really happened that night. She didn't know why the first person she told was him, her husband. Her enemy. But honestly, it felt good to be able to share it for the first time with someone. She felt lighter now.

"Did he get to do to you what he tried to do?"

"No." She answered him, tears starting to form in her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away. "I dug my teeth even deeper into him, to the point where I practically tore his tissues away... and he bled to death right there next to me. I lost consciousness soon after, and it wasn't until the next morning that some guards found me lying on the sand next to that man's corpse, still wet and full of blood from both of us." She sighed, and inevitably a tear rolled down her cheek. She rested her head on her hands and let out a small sob.

Aemond approached her carefully and knelt down in front of her. He took her hands and met her gaze with his. "Honestly, I expected nothing less from you." He admitted, giving his niece-now-wife a small smile, trying to comfort her.

She closed her eyes again and let herself get caught up in the moment. She leaned her forehead against his, who was taken by surprise by this gesture, but did not pull away.

Was honesty the only thing needed to mend the friendship they once had?

"I need you to be honest with me. Has that really happened to you before? Have you ever been… raped before?" He asked looking at her.

She nodded, and with a frown of anger and helplessness at the memory of what had happened, she began to sob. Aemond, unsure of what to do, took a deep breath, and slowly pulled the girl to the floor so that she could sit next to him and then he could embrace her. He tried to comfort her in the same way that, in what seemed to have been a past life, he used to do.

"When? Who?" He asked still clinging to her, with one hand on her lower back and another resting on the nape of her neck.

"At the funeral of my aunt, Lady Laena." She murmured into his neck.

"Who? Please tell me who?" He asked. "Do I know him?"

"Yes." His young wife replied in the affirmative, as she turned her face away from the prince's neck and looked up at him with red, still tear-filled eyes. "Your brother."

"Aegon?" he asked in confusion.

She nodded. "He was the one who raped me. He was who ruined my life."

"You are all monsters. Real and disgusting monsters."

That's when it all made sense.

#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #alicent hightower x reader #criston cole x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #criston cole x rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen x daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon targeryan #criston cole #alicent hightower #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #got #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #lxdyred #angst #fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #tw #smut #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #among snakes i shall dance

[tatesdiary]

Ghosts & mommy issues

Summary Trying to find Tate ends differently when you see him crying in the basement.

word count 1792

Important note

It's probably not how anyone would react after what Tate did and if it's totally wrong I'll delete or rewrite it. But to fit the happy end this was the best way to write it :<

"Tate?" You ask into nothingness, knowing he's usually around somewhere - visible or not. Sighing when he doesn't answer you get up from your bed and walk towards the door, calling out for him while you walk towards the basement.

The closer you get, the louder some sort of… crying noises get. Confused and a little scared you open the door and walk down the stairs.

"Tate..?" You ask again, just in case he was here and just didn't hear you from upstairs (you're ignoring the fact he usually does).

When you round a few corners you find him sitting against one of the stone pillars, his head on his knees and his arms wrapped around them while crying.

Shocked, you quickly kneel next to him, taking his hands into yours, "Tate, what's up, love? What happened?" Your voice is soft and you're nearly whispering but he flinches a little anyway. He shakes his head instead of answering and keeps it buried between his knees.

"C'mon, tell me what happened. I won't judge or anything. We can go to my room if you want." It's just a suggestion but he starts whimpering, saying no multiple times.

"I'll hurt you. You can't- you can't be around me. Your dad was right," he sobs again and your heart breaks at what he said.

"Who told you that? You've never hurt me. You've only taken care of me, protected me. My dad was lying, Tate," you try looking into his eyes but his eyes are shut tight while tears are still running down his cheeks.

You let go of his hands with one of yours to cup his jaw and soothe your thumb over his cheek. "Don't cry. Whatever they told you isn't true." Making sure he's listening, you continue. "I love you. Although I know that some of the things you did weren't okay. But it didn't scare me away from you, did it? So tell me what happened. Let's talk about it."

You could gag at how much you sounded like your dad, but you focus on the boy in front of you instead. He starts getting himself back together and finally looks up. His eyes are red and teary and his hair is messier than usual.

"Oh, Tate…" once again you cup his face and keep your gaze on his. "Tell me what happened," you requested again. He exhales shakily and swallows, when he starts speaking his voice is scratchy from all the sobbing.

"You know the thing with your mom? The… rubber guy she's been talking about?" He asks and you nod, confused why he was talking about your mothers hallucinations now. "What's with him? He's not real." Tate laughs humorlessly and short at that. "That's the thing. He is. Sitting right in front of you actually." When he's done he retracts his hands and looks down again, shaking your grasp off his cheeks.

"I don't understand," you say and sit on your heels. "She wasn't imagining things. I did that to her." He swallows down a sob and tries again. "One of the ghosts, she… she lost her baby. The original owner, the Montgomery Lady. And when she found out about the new owners she asked me to get her a baby. And I-" he starts crying again and if you weren't so invested you'd make comforting him your highest priority.

"I thought it was the best thing to do! Believe me, (y/n)! I wasn't trying to hurt her!" He tries reaching out but when it's starting to register what he's talking about, you gasp and stumble back. "You… assaulted my mother?" You're hoping he's going to say no but he just stays quiet while sobbing again, "Please don't leave me, (y/n)... You're all I have, don't leave me," he whimpers.

"I- I think I need some time." You're dizzy when you get up, feeling like you're on autopilot when you walk out of the house and to the skate park you sometimes go to, knowing he wouldn't be able to follow you there.

When you're about to leave the lawn you hear him crying out for you and when you turn around he's leaning against the door frame unsteadily while crying again. "Don't leave… I'll never come again just please-" he begs but you just shake your head and leave.

-

You're still sitting in the same place, unmoving when your phone rings. "Yes?" You ask at seeing your dad's name as caller ID. "Where are you? It's late already, come home please." He sounds out of it, too, so you just hum and hang up.

When you exit the place the sky is already black and the stars are bright in the sky. You don't know what you're going to do about Tate yet, after all you still loved him, even though you kind of wished you didn't. After what he did to your family, you should despise him. Instead you're worried whether he's still crying or if he's fine now.

When you get home you enter hesitantly. You're not exactly scared of Tate now, you know he wouldn't do anything to you. But it feels different now. It feels different knowing you slept in one bed with the person who did… that to your mother.

You had taken your time when you found out about his past, but this was present and this affected you closely.

"You okay?" Your dad asks when he sees you, a cup of coffee in his hand. "Uh, yeah." You agree with a small nod. "I'm gonna-" you point upstairs and slowly walk up, knowing he was watching you with a concerned look.

When you're in your room you look around and notice something new on your chalkboard. The "I love you" was messily removed, the remains smeared around the corners. Instead a big "I'm sorry" was in the middle.

You didn't know what to feel; you were a total mess of anger, betrayal and hurt. Why would he do that? You understood he had some serious mommy issues and usually did everything the other ghosts told him to but he went too far this time.

You didn't want to try and justify what he did, but accepting it was hard. With an exhausted sigh you lay down on your bed. "Tate," you say, sure he was listening. You don't know what to say next, other than just speak your thoughts. "What you did… I don't think I can forgive you. I feel guilty for spending time with you when you put my mom in so much pain." You wipe away your tears aggressively after being sure you heard a sob from the corner of your room.

"Don't do anything stupid." You pretend you don't feel the bed dipping and a hand stroking over your leg once while you're curled up.

-

It takes you another two weeks to come to terms what happened and to talk with your mom. You'd gone and asked what she thinks about the "rubber guy" three days after. She just said she's indifferent, by now so much happened that was just a minor part in her going crazy (you'd assured her she wasn't).

You were hesitant when you asked whether she would forgive him if she ever met him but she just laughed. "What's with all the questions, honey? Well. I would just want to know why he did it. Nothing would excuse it but, you know. Makes you understand it, at least." You were curious what she's say if she knew the real reason, but you weren't about to explain the whole ghost thing to her.

So, you simplified the question. "What if he did it for someone else and just… didn't know how else to do it?" She shrugged and contemplated before answering, "I would just be mad he did it this way instead of thinking of something else. I don't know, though."

You told her she forgave people too easily and she chuckled and shrugged.

-

After that talk you go into your room and sit on your bed, nervously picking at a loose thread. "Come here," you say and wait a minute until the door opens and Tate comes in. He looks worse for wear, his eyes still red and his face paler than he already is.

You tell him to sit down on the foot of your bed and he hesitantly does. "She should hate me," he just states and you know he means your mother.

"Probably."

He hangs his head and stays quiet. "I love you. But I don't know if I can see you as I did before." He sniffles and you gulp - you hated nothing more than seeing him sad.

"Are you gonna leave with your mom?" He asks and you know he's indirectly asking if you'll break up with him. "Uh.. no. Don't like my aunt and don't wanna change schools again." He exhales in a relieved way and you smile a little, amused.

"I don't know what to say. I love you and-" he's holding back the resz and you realize he's scared to dump his feelings on you (when that's what you were aiming for). "Tell me. I won't be scared or anything." He still looks uncertain and you raise your right hand, telling him to do so as well. "Pinky promise. If I break it my Pinky's gonna fall off," you explain and hook his pinky with yours (trying to ignore the obvious size difference between both your hands).

He chuckles and relaxes, "You're all I have. I don't want to lose you because of some dumb mistake. So I want to get better. I'll even continue seeing your dad. Even if he's annoying and uptight sometimes." You both laugh at that, "Most times. Not just sometimes," you correct. "I'm glad though."

Then you pull him to sit against your headboard, sitting on his lap with his arms resting around your waist and your arms laying on his shoulders. "You're acting like I'm the most normal person, when I've fallen in love with a ghost who's, like, a total psycho." He grins and you can't refrain from leaning forward and kissing him.

When you part he looks into your eyes - something he rarely did out of nervousness -, "I really love you, so much." He whispers and you melt, kissing him again.

The night ends with him in your arms and the best sleep you got for weeks.

#evan peters x reader #tate langdon x reader #tate langdon #american horror story #evan peters

[eiddets]

ride

eddie munson x reader fic (nsfw)

summary: you get off on eddie's thigh.

word count: 1792

ratings: explicit

warnings: nsfw, smut, kissing, thigh riding, orgasm denial

pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader

__________

“You look so pretty like this” Eddie breathes, the words tumbling from his lips as he kisses your neck. You whimper, arching up into the touch as you pant, already overstimulated by his movements. He pins you against the wall, hand stroking your hip gently as he nips at the skin that lay there, a bruise sure to form. “Eddie” you gasp, hands finding their way to his hair as you pull, hard , and he groans, smiling against your neck. He pulls away, mischief glinting in his eyes as he leads you over to his bed, plopping you onto his thighs. You grin down at him, leaning in for a kiss when he stops you, smirking devilishly. You look at him quizzically when he grabs your hips, thumbing at the fabric of your pants. “Take these off” he murmurs and you flush, looking down at the bed. He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at the man, and you search his lust-ridden eyes for an answer. His pupils are fully blown, and you watch as his adam’s apple bobs slowly, swallowing thickly. “Now” he says softly, voice barely above a whisper.

You nod meekly, getting up and off his thighs, shimmying out of your pants. He pats his thighs and you sit, blushing. You feel exposed in nothing but your t-shirt and underwear, flushing a deep shade of pink underneath his gaze. “There we go” Eddie smirks, planting his hands on your waist. His hands drift up slightly and you shiver, his cold metal rings feeling like ice against your skin. “Want do you want me to do?” You murmur, gazing at the man and he smiles, baring his teeth. “I want you to…” Eddie trails off, running a hand up your inner thigh. Your eyes flutter shut, your heart beating dangerously fast in your chest as his hands move inward, barely touching the spot you need him the most.

“Get yourself off. On me” Eddie says, grinning darkly and you feel yourself growing redder, his words causing your stomach to flutter. “You what ?” you whisper and he pats his thigh, once more, signaling you to shift to it. You get the memo, spreading yourself over his thigh and stifle a moan, as your underwear makes contact with his jeans. He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your jaw, and whispers in your ear. “I want you to ride my thigh ”

Your jaw drops, gasping slightly at his words. But, you nod frantically, nonetheless, and he grins. Next thing you know, hands find their way to your hips as he slowly begins to guide you back and forth. Your hips stutter against his thigh at the contact, sending heat pooling to your stomach.

The rough fabric of his jeans sends shivers down your spine and you groan desperately, bucking against his thigh. Slowly but surely, you find a steady rhythm and Eddie makes a noise of approval. His hands fall from your waist and he plants them against the bed, leaning back, watching you with an intense gaze in his eyes. You feel small against his gaze and flush, slowing your movements. He lets out a sharp ‘tsk’ grabbing your chin once more, forcing you to look at him. “Did I say you could stop, hm?” he murmurs and you shiver at his languid words, heart thumping in your chest. You shake your head in reply and Eddie sighs, hand trailing down your body and down to your underwear. “Use your words, princess ” Eddie whispers, fiddling with the hem of your waistband. “N-no, Eddie” you gasp, voice barely above a whisper, and Eddie grins. He suddenly stretches the waistband, pulling it taut and snapping it back, causing you to yelp. “Such a good girl” Eddie murmurs, leaning back once more. “Continue” he orders, and with that, your hips begin to move.

You stifle a moan as your hips drag along his jeans, clenching your thighs at the sensation. Your mouth betrays you as a quiet Eddie tumbles from your lips, bucking your hips involuntary. Your clit presses heavily against his jeans, and you can feel every inch of his leg; the way Eddie shifts slightly, the way your underwear feels smooth against your skin. Countless praises arise from Eddie’s mouth as you move faster, growing wet at his words, leaving your underwear (and a patch of his jeans), partially soaked.

Heat pools in your stomach as your thrusts grow erratic, chasing that never-ending orgasm bound to come. “You’re doing so good for me” Eddie praises and you whine, leaning forward and clutching his shoulders. Eddie looks at you with fervor and snatches your hands, forcing them behind your back. Your hands clasp together automatically, a silent compliance in regards to his action. “Fuck” you gasp, hips moving more quickly as your clit brushes against his thigh over and over again. Eddie gazed at your frame, eyes lust-ridden and he wickedly grins, leaning forward and planting his foot on the ground. Before you can question his movement, his thigh abruptly bounces up, sending white-hot pleasure down your spine. You moan wantonly, eyes fluttering shut and your mouth falls open, blinded by the sensation. Stars bounce behind your eyes as you ride his thigh, too lust-drunk to care about the embarrassing noises that fall from your mouth. You feel yourself grow dangerously close, the tension swirling in your gut as you chase your orgasm, but Eddie suddenly reaches forward and grabs your hips, stopping your movements completely.

“What are you doing?” you breathe, looking at Eddie inquisitively. He grins, grinding his thigh up into your underwear, rendering you speechless. “Can’t let the fun end so soon, darling” he drawls, still teasing you with his thigh. “Eddie ” you whine in protest, the fire slowly dying in your stomach as you white-knuckle your hands behind your back. He moves his thigh at a tantalizing pace, bouncing you slightly and you gasp, moaning breathlessly. He moved your hips roughly, setting his own brutalizing slow pace and you murmur curses under your breath. You’ve starved off your orgasm this long and can’t take it any longer. You grind down onto his thigh, setting your own pace and he leans forward, stilling your movements. “Not until I say so” Eddie says darkly and you swallow thickly, a whimper escaping your mouth.

He continues to tease you at a slow pace, hand occasionally dipping between your thighs and applying pressure to your aching mound. You arch into his touch every single time, but it’s not enough. You need it, you need him , to allow the tension to dissipate in your gut as it grows larger and larger. “Please, Eddie” you gasp after a while, hips stuttering against his movements. “M’close” you plead, cheeks flushing red. Eddie sighs, removing his hands from your hips and stilling his movements. He reaches behind your back and un-clasps your shaking hands, bringing them forward. “Well since you asked so nicely my dear, you may continue” he breathes, and you swallow thickly, mesmerized by his words.

You move frantically now, hips sliding and grinding with fervor against his thigh, followed by a chorus of yes yes yes as you chase after the one thing that means the most to you right now. He adjusts your hips, grinding his thigh up and the new angle causes you to spiral, your clit throbbing at the sensation. “Shit ” you breathe, whining as you grow close. Eddie smirks between pants, his controlling demeanor faltering slightly at the sight of you, so needy and desperate for your release. Hands find their way to your hips once more and he helps you, praises tumbling from his lips like hail marys.

His praises send you over the edge; the tension snaps in your stomach and your hips stutter as you come, throwing your head back as you moan. Eddie doesn’t stop his movements, and the combination of his thigh bouncing and hands rocking you back and forth sends you spiraling. You see stars, black spots dancing at the edge of your vision as you let go - it’s electrifying and intoxicating, and you feel weightless.

Your cunt throbs as you fall limp against his chest spent from your orgasm. “You did so well for me, baby” Eddie murmurs, words resonating deep from within his chest. He rubs your back as you come down, breathing heavily. You lay there for a moment, catching your breath as he hums praises, stroking through your hair with his other hand. Eventually, you shift, legs wobbly as you get off him and onto the bed, laying there in utter bliss. Your eyes flutter shut and you feel Eddie get up, shifting around the room.

You wrinkle your nose in disgust as you feel your underwear grow cold. You begin to peel them off of you and toss them into the hamper. The bed dips moments later and he hands you a pair of fresh boxers and a t-shirt. You smile at him, thanking him, and shrug the remainder of your clothes off, throwing the band-tee on and his boxers quickly. He eyes your frame hungrily and you laugh at this, shaking your head. You lay down next to him and he wraps you in his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

You peer down at his jeans, a wince when you notice a dark patch on his thigh. You flush, now embarrassed, and he laughs, deep and long. “It’s okay darling, I don’t mind” he winks, languidly stroking your arm with his hand. You then notice the bulge in his pants, the outline of his dick ever so present in the clad jeans. You raise an eyebrow, hand slithering down and palming the front of his jeans. He jumps slightly, mouth falling open. “You want me to take care of that?” you say teasingly, hand fiddling with the buttons of his jeans.

He groans as you slip a hand inside his boxers, whimpering slightly. He’s already slick with precum, and as you flick your wrist, thumbing at the slit and he moans, panting slightly.

Eddie leans up and presses a soft kiss against your lips. “How can I refuse?” he grins, looking up at you through his lashes.

You grin back, twisting your hand in a way you know he loves. You are going to have so much fun with this.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things four #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you smut #stranger things smut #bisexual eddie munson #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader

[giuliettagaltieri]

Masterlist

 K. Bakugō • E. Jaeger • M. O’Hara • S. Gojō • N. Zen’in • C. Snow

Coriolanus Snow

♡ Hunt for Glory

Synopsis: After living under the shadow of legacy of your fathers, you and Coriolanus Snow decide it is time to climb to the top, to reclaim what was yours.  You are a convenient ally, a dangerous and sly woman, and to his luck, it seems your heart was tender for him, until it no longer was

Chapter Count: 6

♡ Quest for Happiness

Synopsis: You got what you wanted. Power over Panem is on your hands. But after fighting in a battle of schemes and ruse, Coriolanus and you face a much more complex adversity. Together, you are a force to reckon with but when the odds seem to not be so much in your favor, will you manage to remain together?

Chapter Count: 7

Gojō Satoru

♡ A River of Honey

Synopsis: Navigating through life with your husband and son who both seemed to have developed an appetite for something only you can provide.

Word Count: 1142

♡ Where the Blue Roses Grow

Series Synopsis: Snippets from the life of Gojō Satoru and yours.  Where the two of you journey on a path that was predetermined for you, with hearts bruised and unforeseen emotions blossoming.

Chapter Count: 9

Miguel O’Hara

♡ Project: Galatea

Synopsis: Allowing you sentience made things more complicated between you and Miguel.  But Peter Parker from Earth-199999 decides to take on an unfinished impossible project of his late mentor, and possibly bring you and Miguel back together.

Word Count: 6218 

♡ Project: Pandora

Synopsis: You are experiencing things for the first time and you can’t wait to explore what the multiverse has to offer, but for now, you’ll start with a messy college dorm room.

Word Count: 2174 

♡ Project: Eros

Synopsis: It does not feel the same without your wings and halo and you turn to science to help you gain them back.  But despite your angelic appearance, you find yourself allured by the weakness and carnality of the flesh.

Word Count: 5435

Eren Jaeger

♡ Sparkly Pink Skirt

Synopsis: When you are head over heels for Eren since high school, he finds it difficult to take in when you start to avoid him.

Word Count: 2586 

♡ Be Careful Not to Spill

Synopsis: Eren does not agree with the euthanasia plan and he will show them, with a little help from you.

Word Count: 2149

♡ Home is Where You Are

Synopsis: As Eren’s past comes to pay him a visit, you come to realize that love can come in all shapes.

Word Count: 1526

♡ Just Kiss Her Already

Synopsis: Craving for academic validation, you find an unexpected challenger who might have hurt your feelings, just a bit.

Word Count: 1724

♡ Kruger and Vixen

Synopsis: Having a love-hate relationship is fun until Eren messes it up, driving you away.

Word Count: 7077

♡ Number One Fan 

Synopsis: You have always been there to cheer him on, if only he would look at you the same way you look at him.  But whho are you compared to the all too perfect Mikasa?

Word Count: 5496

♡ Cherry Flavored Kisses

Synopsis: The life as Eren Jaeger’s girl fascinated you, but it was nothing compared to the fascination you feel for the man, himself.  He could be nice if he wanted.  But nothing is as bittersweet as a love unrequited.

Word Count: 5862

♡ Doctor’s Order

Synopsis: You could not make your crush on Dr. Eren Jaeger any more obvious.  And even though you can tolerate his usual cold demeanor, you also know when to draw the line.  1 of 3.

Word Count: 1792

♡ Progress Notes

Synopsis: You are having fun, trying new things and meeting other people while Eren disproves the saying, “Out of sight, out of mind.”  2 of 3.

Word Count: 1370

♡ Care Plan

Synopsis: You’re back from your trip and a certain surgeon finds it difficult to not be in the receiving end of your undivided attention.  3 of 3.

Word Count: 1269

♡ Road Rage & Malibu Barbie

Synopsis: You may look like a barbie doll who got lost on her way back to her dreamhouse but Eren never fails to break your front quite often than you like

Word Count: 2292

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ At Daybreak

Synopsis: Yesterday's rejection made an awkward morning more awkward.  Mix in a ghost and a cookie jar, this morning is bound to be interesting.  Who knew that the Bakugou Katsuki knows how to tease girls?

Word count: 1401

♡ Hero Too

Synopsis: Being a hero means so much more than just the career that Bakugou chose and you wanted to prove that to him and a series of unfortunate events might just let that happen, because dammit! You’re a hero too!

Word Count: 3,553

♡ Still Jealous

Synopsis: Bakugou tries his best to be a good boyfriend when you get hit with a jealousy quirk.  And when cuddles don't work, leave it to Bakugou to come up with other ways to help.

Words: 712

♡ You call Bakugou “pretty”

♡ Manga omake

Naoya Zen’in

Coming This Summer

#giuliagaltieri masterlist #masterlist #miguel o'hara x reader #gojo satoru x reader #eren jaeger x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #naoya zen'in x reader

[fairyhaos]

. ˚ in my arms

requested by @cinnamoroxie : seungkwan legit so good when you’re having a panic attack, he’ll sit down w you and rub your back, go thru breathing exercises, and also hes such a good listener 💔

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship

word count: 1792

warnings: descriptions of panic attack/ meltdown

notes: if someone knows where to find a seungkwan then pls hmu i need one asap actually

summary: seungkwan has always admired your ability to keep calm, but when the moment comes that you need someone to fall into, he'll always be ready to offer his arms.

You've been locked away in your room for several hours now, and Seungkwan is more than a little worried. 

It's early June, and exams are in full swing. In the weeks of revision leading up to this, he's seen you be relatively calm, perhaps a little more snappish and tense than usual, but still rather put together and composed. 

Your composure, your ability to not dissolve into an inconsolable ball of stress while preparing for exam weeks, is something that Seungkwan is still so in awe of.

However, that doesn’t mean you don’t have meltdowns of your own.

He’s seen them before—the aftermath of them, that is, after having come home to you surrounded by your friends on the couch, watching ‘Legally Blonde’ for the twentieth time with swollen eyes and a sniffly nose and a smile on your face. You never like to talk about it afterwards, but he knows. 

Seungkwan can recognise the post-breakdown signs. Sometimes he gets like that too.

But even so, he’s never been there to witness you going through it. As the minutes tick by, with you barely even having come out of your room once since this morning, it’s safe to say his worry has gone from just a little to rather extreme.

That’s why right now, he’s standing outside your door, a plate of biscuits in his hands. He’s been here for several minutes now, just staring at the door, wondering whether he should knock or go in.

He respects your unspoken want for some personal space today, but if that personal space manifests itself as self-quarantining and possibly driving you to your own insanity, then he’s not quite sure if he should respect that.

He’s still outside your door, just staring at the painted wooden structure—it’s a nice white, maybe a little yellowed with age, but still nice—when the door suddenly swings open, and he’s met with your surprised face.

“Kwan?”

Seungkwan blinks, and then softens, seeing the way your hair is all messed up and your shoulders are sagged with exhaustion, holding up the plate like a peace offering. “Hi baby. I come with hugs and cookies. Would you care for some?”

Your eyes immediately go to the plate and then to his face, and something in your eyes looks like it’s trembling. His own eyes immediately widen, concerned.

“Y/N? Y/N, love, are you okay?”

And then, abruptly, you burst into tears.

He’s stepping towards you instantly, one hand automatically coming up to cradle the back of your head as you hold a hand over your mouth, sinking to the floor. As you go down, he goes down with you, and he sets down the plate, not caring if the cookies fall and get crumbs all over the floor, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you to his chest.

You’re trying to muffle your sobs into your hand, and that just breaks his heart. Seungkwan rocks you from side to side, making soft hushing noises.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he says quietly. “I’m here. I’m here for you.”

He has one hand in your hair, the other wrapped around your back, soothingly rubbing up and down your side. He’s whispering in your ear, telling you he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere, that it’s okay to cry. 

And eventually, you make a soft wailing sound, and the hand comes away from your mouth and you cry into his shoulder.

It makes Seungkwan tear up, just a little, hearing the utterly devastating sounds you’re making. You grip him as if he’s your last lifeline, fists shaking through handfuls of his shirt, and he knows that he’d never leave you, even if he were able to.

Not when you were like this. Never like this.

Not ever.

You’re still crying, still wetting his shoulder with your stress, but now you’re making hiccupping noises, trying to talk, and he’s softly telling you that it’s okay, but you continue trying anyway.

“I’m just— I— Kwan, I’m going to fa—ail—” and then the rest of your sentence is incomprehensible, melting into more tears.

You sound so broken, like you’ve been standing on the edge of a cliff for far too long and have finally been pushed. He feels like he’s been pushed with you, his heart swooping worriedly in tandem with yours, and he just hugs you harder.

“No, no, baby, you’re not,” he says, but you just shake your head rapidly, crying. “Listen to me, you’re going to be okay. I promise.”

“N—No, I’m—I can’t do it, I c—can’t do it,” you sob, words fragmented and exhausted. “It’s too hard, I’m n—not good enou—gh.”

You’re breathing rapidly now, big breaths that sound shallow, shaking uncontrollably in his hold.

Seungkwan faintly registers that you’re both still kneeling in the doorway, and as you begin hyperventilating in his arms, he unwraps himself from around you, holding onto your hand and pulling you to your feet, guiding you into your room and onto your bed.

Your eyes are red with exhaustion and now with tears, and you look like a small child as you just let Seungkwan drag you onto the bed, cheeks wet and frame hunched and meek, trembling violently. It makes Seungkwan’s heart hurt, aching to make you feel better.

“Breathe for me,” Seungkwan says, sitting cross-legged opposite you. “Y/N, it's okay, darling, breathe for me.” He takes your hands, trying to get you to look at him. “You can do it, love, do this for me.”

You don’t look like you’re fully in the present, eyes unfocused, swaying even as you continue to sob uncontrollably, shaking. He cups your cheeks, his hands a little cool on your overheating face, and it makes you drag your gaze back to him, hiccupping and breathing erratically.

“Y/N, you’re with me, aren’t you?” he says, gently, smiling. The tears continue to pool in your eyes, but you're looking at him, at least. “Don’t worry, love. You’re doing okay.”

That makes the tears pool faster, the hiccups taking over again as you try to speak. “I’m n—not, I’m really not—”

“Yes, you are,” Seungkwan says firmly. “You are. Shh, it’s okay. Breathe for me, darling. I’ll do it with you. In…” He breathes in exaggeratedly, holding it for a few moments, and then breathing out. “And out. And again. In… and out.”

He breathes exaggeratedly slowly, puffing his chest and then deflating several times. It takes a while for you to join him, but eventually you do, and his hands are now on your jawline, fingers against your pulse, your hands around his wrists. 

“There we go,” he says gently, smiling, as your breath syncs with his. “You’re doing so well, Y/N. My wonderful, wonderful Y/N.”

He breathes in deeply a few more times, until you’re no longer looking in danger of hyperventilating, and then he relaxes, simply holding you. The tears still fall, sticky and aching and staining your face with worry, but at least your breathing is steadier, even if it’s still a little shaky.

Seungkwan leans forward until his forehead touches yours. “I’m here,” he says, softly, in the same way he’s been saying it constantly ever since you opened the door. “I’m here for you.”

“Kwan,” you whisper, small and trembling, “I’m going to fail, I’m really going to fail—”

“Nonsense,” he says instantly, before you can work yourself up into another meltdown. “You won’t. I promise you, you really won’t. Look how hard you’ve been working, my love. You won’t fail.”

Your fingers tighten over his wrist, just a little, and you fall into him, burying your face into his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, natural. Protective.

“You don’t know that.”

“But I know you,” Seungkwan returns. “I know my hardworking, intelligent Y/N. You try your best, at anything at all, and even if you might not let yourself rest sometimes, it’s because you’re working so hard to be the best you can be. At the end of the day, your best is all you’re able to do, and that’s completely fine.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, still buried into his shirt. “You sound like Minghao.”

That makes him chuckle a little, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Well, sometimes Minghao has a point. Even if he sometimes spouts gibberish, there are occasions where he says words of gold.”

“Like that time he told you to meditate because you might have ‘anger issues’?”

“The point is,” Seungkwan says, ignoring you, and it makes you snuffle a small laugh into his chest. “The point is, you’re doing well. You might not feel like it, but you are. I know hard work when I see it, and you’ve gone above and beyond.”

You just hum in response, and he can tell that you don’t believe him.

He smooths your hair back, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. “Maybe you don’t believe me, but it’s true. You’re my wonderful Y/N, and I’m going to cherish you in all the ways you deserve, and you deserve to know how wonderful you really are.”

You whine a little, embarrassed and pleased, and he chuckles. “Stop, you’re making me shy.”

“I’m always going to be here for you,” Seungkwan says after a moment. “Always. So there’s no need to push yourself until you’re falling over the edge, okay? I can bring you away from the cliff safely, with no one being pushed.”

Seungkwan doesn’t know where the weird metaphor comes from, and he expects you to laugh and comment on it. Instead, you just hum again, nuzzling further into him, and your next words are a little muffled, but he hears you all the same.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” Seungkwan returns, instantly, because he does, and you should know that. He hopes you know just how much he really, truly loves you.

There’s silence then, save for the sound of the birds twittering in the distance and the AC running practically everywhere in the house, but with you in his arms the rest of the world has ceased to exist, narrowing down to just you.

You lift your head after a moment, and he smiles down at you, devastatingly soft, gently dabbing some of the drying tears away from the corners of your eyes.

“You know you’ll always be able to find comfort here, right?” Seungkwan checks, speaking into the silence, and you tilt your head confusedly. Your eyes are still red, still tired, but there’s light in them now, light that was lit by his love for you.

“Where?”

He presses a kiss to the top of your forehead, drawing a little heart on your cheek with his fingertip. “Right here. In my arms.”

fics tags: @jeonghanis ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @minhui896 ,, @bunnyiix ,, @slytherinshua ,, @haowrld ,, @belladaises ,, @moonlitskiiies ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @butiluvu ,, @zozojella ,, @kawennote09 ,, @thedensworld ,, @a-wandering-stay ,, @abibliolife ,, @doublasting ,, @wonranghaeee ,, @icyminghao

#fairyhaos.works #k-labels #svt #seventeen #seungkwan #seventeen fic #seungkwan fic #svt fic #svt seungkwan #svt x reader #seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan #mingyu x you #seventeen x you #seungkwan x y/n #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen seungkwan #seventeen boo seungkwan #svt boo seungkwan #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan imagines #seventeen imagines #seungkwan au #svt au #seventeen fanfic

[scenteddelusion5]

A Daring Creature -Part 3

Zestial x fem angel reader

note: I hope you like it!!!

Word count: 1792

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Zestial started looking everywhere for her, even sending out some of his contracts to search for her.

Y/n had been walking around town with Angel Dus when she saw a familiar figure running her way, it was Edward. IT WAS EDWARD!!! WHAT TIME WAS IT?! OMG, she had completely lost time and worried Zestial and Edward.

"Y/N! Where have you been?!" The older man scolded her. "Zestial is sending everyone out to look for you!"

"Wait, like the Zestial?" Angel Dust asked. "Don't tell me you're in trouble with that old fucker, I doubt anyone could protect you if so."

"It's fine, we're friends. I probably worried him." She turned to Edward. "I'm sorry Ed."

"It's fine, just let's go now!"

The two quickly made it back to the manor, with Zestial arriving only five minutes later after he heard news of her being found.

"WHERE WERE THOU?!" He yelled at Y/n who was looking down at her feet. "Thee couldst hast been discovered! Or worse, hath been killed!"

"I know I shouldn't have sneaked out but you shouldn't have looked me in another stupid mansion when you promised to take me out!" She yelled back.

"Thou art so irritating." He mumbled while holding his hand on his forehead.

"If you had just upheld your end of the deal I wouldn't be so IrRiTaTiNg."

"Edward, please taketh her away."

"Yes, my lord." Edward stepped forward. "Come on Y/n, let's get you back to your room."

"Fine."

"I know I shouldn't have snuck out but he didn't need to yell at me for it!" Y/n complained. "I'm an adult and I can make my own decisions!"

Edward sighed, "I think we all know you are an adult but you don't know hell. Anything could have happened to you." He frowned. "Do you know how worried I was when I heard you were missing?"

"I'm sorry Ed." She opened the door to her bedroom and plopped down on her bed. "I didn't want to worry you but... Zestial is just so frustrating! He says he'll show me around and then locks me up again."

"Perhaps, he's just worried about you too."

"I doubt that. He just wants to use me for his own personal gain."

"You never know." Edward closed the door after he left.

Y/n was left alone in a room, again. Ugh! Why was Zestial such a stuck up, lying asshole. There is no way that man cared about her. He just wanted to use her without actually putting any effort into his side of the deal.

She slowly fell asleep with her, still in her normal clothes.

"I doth not understand her." Zestial complained to Edward. "Wherefore wouldst a blesseth being risketh her life for something as foolish as exploring hell? And Wherefore wilt she beest so stubborn about it?"

"If I'm allowed to give my opinion, sir?" Once he was sure Zestial didn't object to it, he continued. "Y/n is a very free-spirited soul. She takes risks, even when it endangers her do, and uplifts the people around her to be as happy and carefree as her. You won't be able to control her as you would like too."

"Then what doth thee suggesteth I doth with her?"

"The easiest is to just go along with her. It might be a bit risky but I trust that she can handle herself in an emergency and I'm sure you'll come to like her entics too of you give her a chance."

"I seeth."

The whole night, Zestial stayed awake mulling over Edward's advice. He could give it a chance and so long he is there, Y/n wouldn't be discovered as an angel too easily.

Y/n woke up with an awful feeling like she was being watched. She carefully opened her eyes to find Zestial sitting in the corner of her room working on some documents or something alike.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Putteth thy coat backeth on." He looked up into her eyes. "We art going out."

Y/n looked at the overlord confused. "We are?" She questioned.

"Yes, we art." Zestial stood up and made his way to the door. "Beest downstairs in twenty minutes."

The angel was left dumbfounded in her room. What just happened?

Waiting downstairs were Zestial and Edward, already ready to go out.

"Wait, you're actually taking me out and not dropping me off somewhere?" Y/n pulled up the hood of her coat.

"Yes", Zestial answered, "we shall beest getting breakfast and seeth where all goeth from there."

Edward opened the door. "After you my lord."

The three made their way down town into a more classy area. It was still very hellish but the shops were more refined and less damaged. They finally arrived at a restaurant called Hell's Kitchen, which sounded quite familiar to Y/n but she shook it off.

A waiter came up to them by the door and let them to their table. The restaurant had pristine white walls, tiles and tablecloths. As Y/n was looking around the waiter brought them their plates and an absurd amount of cutlery; three forks, three knifes and three spoons each. They were also handed the menu.

"What are some dishes that I can only get down here in hell?" Y/n asked looking at all the options.

"Anything really," Edward answered, "every ingredient down here in hell tastes starkly different than on earth."

"Then I think I'll take the... Screaming pancakes?" She looked over the menu again and realised they all had such weird names; wrath's toast, imp wrap, devilled eggs, no wait that one's actually normal.

Everyone had put in their order and Zestial and Edward got lost in a conversation Y/n didn't care enough about to pay attention to. Instead she took in the rest of the demon's that dined here. It was obvious this establishment was targeting the higher class.

At one table sat a blue birdman dressed in a fine suit with a younger girl, probably his daughter, dressed in a more emo-style attire.

At another table sat a girl in a pretty dress with blond hair and clown cheeks. Across from her sat a young man dressed in green. His hat has was decorated with yellow eyes and teeth.

At a table much closer to hers sat another two demons. One of which she could only see the back of; a woman with white hair and a beautiful, large hat. The man who she was dining with was completely dressed in red. On top of his head stood two antlers and a set of deer ears.

Y/n hadn't realised she had been staring until the demon looked right at her, she quickly looked away but the damage had already been done. She could hear footsteps coming her way. When she dared to look up, the man was hovering over her.

"Good morning Zestial," the man greeted him like an old friend, "it's not like you to eat breakfast out. What's the special occasion?" The demon had a strange voice, almost like she was listening to a radio and not a man speaking right next to her.

"It is nothing special, Alastor," Zestial answered calmly, "I am simply taking two of mine own servants out to consume a fine breakfast."

"I've never seen this one around before." Alastor pointed to Y/n. "Is she a new contract of yours?"

"Yes, the lady hast been untrusted under mine own care."

"Don't you think it's rude to wear a hood whilst inside?" Alastor asked.

"She is an exception." Zestial stayed calm, knowing it will only arise suspicion if he acted any differently.

"I see... Is she also the one you were thinking about when you were distracted yesterday?" Alastor knew he was pulling his leg with this one bit the hooded stranger could mean a possible weakness to exploit.

"No." Zestial's sounded slightly irritated. "I wast not restful yesterday, wherefore I wast not paying attention. It hadst nothing to doth with Y/n."

"You sound tense," the other overlord jested, "I'll leave you be. Enjoy your breakfast."

When Y/n was sure Alastor was out of earshot, she turned to Zestial and Edward. "Who was that?"

"He is the Radio Demon," Edward answered.

"One of the strongest human souls in hell," Zestial explained, "If it be true thee wouldst ever cometh across him on thy owneth, runneth the other way. He is one of the lastest demons thee wanteth to figure out thy secret."

"Undertood."

Through the whole breakfast, the Radio Demon had kept an eye on her. It creeped her out, so once they were finished, she was happy to get out of there.

"Where to!?" Y/n asked while skipping.

"Thee may hath chosen. We art here for thee after all."

"Hmm, do you have fun stuff here?" She asked, "like an arcade, a museum with hell's history and stuff or maybe a theatre!"

"I am afraid we doth not hasts museums, however, I couldst taketh thee to a theatre." Zestial led the way with Edward and Y/n following behind.

The day went by with a breeze. The theatre ended up being an actual theatre, not a movie theatre to Y/n's surprise. After bickering back and forth between Y/n and Zestial, they ended up going with her choice; Immoral, based on a popular pride ring franchise Sorcerer of Shizz. While it was not of Zestial's usual tastes, he enjoyed the amazed look in the angel's eyes.

After that they walked around in one of the few well maintained parks in hell. Y/n jumped from flowerbed to flowerbed, looking at the strange hellflowers. It put a smile on the overlords face.

"Look at this one!" She yelled. "It's beautiful!"

As Zestial made his way to her crouching down form, his eye caught the flower that had entranced the angel. The pride hydrangea was hell's version of the normal hydrangea but it's blue colour had a reddish hue to it when held in the light, bigger and...

"Its pollen art poisonous." Zestial reached his hand out and plucked one. "However having one or two around shouldst not beest much of a problem." He delicately held the flower between his fingers, slowly bringing it to Y/n's face and putting it behind her ear. "Taketh one."

"Thank you." She smiled brightly at the others kind jester.

As everyone got tired they made their way back home. Once there Zestial immediatly went to his office, Edward brought Y/n a very small vase for the flower and she dropped down on her bed.

Zestial had grabbed a book from his shelve and continued his notes in it, thinking back on the day the whole time. Edward wast right, the overlord thought, it wast easier to wend along with her antics. And perhaps he enjoyed her antics.

"Edward," Zestial called upon his contractee.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Cleareth out mine own schedule for this Wednesday," Zestial ordered, "and asketh Y/n where she wanteth to wend to."

Part 4

Masterlist/Request guidelines

ALSO!!!! If you have an idea where the two could go next tell me. IDK why but I actually had trouble with coming up with fun ideas! Put it in the comments, send me a message or put it in my inbox!

#hazbin hotel #reader insert #hazbin hotel requests #reader requests #zestial hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel zestial #zestial x reader #zestial #Zestial x you #Hazbin hotel zestial x reader

[thenerdykneazle]

Yule Ball

images of Garreth above from @dvinaamesca here and here

Summary: Sometimes our favourite gregarious Gryffindor can be a bit thick. Professor Black reinstates the Yule Ball in your seventh year, and you realise last-minute that your boyfriend isn't planning on taking you. Leander tries to help his best mate patch things up with you. Sometimes simple misunderstandings lead to hurt feelings, but talking it out (and makeup sex) is always worth it.

Garreth Weasley x Gryffindor F!MC

A/N: Did I write an almost 9k fic because I loved a screenshot so much? Yes. Yes, I did. At any rate, this blog was far overdue for some Garreth love.

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, aged-up characters, Garreth being oblivious, failure to communicate, caught indisposed, talks of hypothetically pregnant MC

Word count: 8621

Seventh year was going surprisingly well for you. The stress of exams was nothing compared to quashing a goblin rebellion, and poaching was at an all-time low in the Highlands. If you were honest, it was a bit dull. You had tried, back at the end of sixth year, to get Black to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament. You argued that it was the perfect time, exactly a century after the last one had been held. He had refused outright, arguing that it was “too dangerous.” You suspected his concern was less directed at whatever students would be competing and more due to the fact that the heads of the participating schools had been injured during the last one in 1792. Bloody coward.

You had started a whole campaign, hoping to pressure him into it, but he wouldn’t relent. Poppy managed to convince him to at least host a Yule Ball the following Christmas. The vain headmaster leapt at the chance to bring out his dress robes. It was settled.

At least you had quidditch to keep you from being bored to death. Games and practices playing chaser alongside your boyfriend were the highlight of each week. You had worried it might cause friction between the two of you when you and Garreth joined the team last year. Quite the contrary, you both worked together flawlessly. You practised so much that you had an almost telepathic connection on the pitch. You had been so close to winning the Quidditch Cup last year, and you had high hopes for this season.

Still, quidditch only provided so much of a distraction given the level of adventure to which you were accustomed, and you had looked forward to the Yule Ball all of autumn term. Poppy – and, to your surprise, Imelda – led the planning effort. You were confident it was going to be spectacular. You had already gone shopping with Natty, and Mr. Hill insisted on making custom gowns for both of you. He had always been appreciative of you two saving his shop from the troll back in fifth year.

As you were studying in the library for end-of-term exams, Poppy updated you on the planning. The ball was to be an all-night, Regency-style affair complete with dancing, a late supper, and more dancing. You couldn’t wait for Christmas to arrive.

Over lunch, Garreth expressed a similar sentiment. “I cannot wait for exams to be over. I swear my aunt is lurking around every corner to make sure I’m revising properly,” he groused. “It’s like she has no faith in me.”

“She just wants you to do well,” you assured him, rubbing a soothing hand between his shoulder blades.

“At least we have the holidays to look forward to,” he said. “Your parents are letting you stay here in the castle, right?”

“Yes!” you replied eagerly. “It’s going to be splendid, isn’t it? Have you gotten dress robes?”

Garreth’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What for?”

You gaped at him. “For the Yule Ball.”

He looked caught off guard. “I wasn’t planning on attending,” he admitted.

“What? You–You’re not going?” you asked, taken aback. “Are you serious?”

Your conversation caught Leander’s attention, and he looked nervously between you two. His eyes widened with intent as he stared at Garreth.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” Garreth explained. “What’s the point?”

Leander hid his face in his hand, clearly embarrassed at his best mate’s lack of tact.

The bench scraped harshly on the stone floor as you got to your feet. “What’s the point?” you repeated, furious.

Garreth shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like I’m telling you that you can’t go,” he said.

“Garreth Weasley, you inconsiderate – you oblivious – you – Ugh!” you spluttered. You grabbed your bag off the ground before storming off, leaving Garreth sat stunned on the bench.

“What is her problem?” he asked Leander.

“Mate…” the tall redhead said in a pitying tone. He just shook his head at the boy.

You spent the rest of exams avoiding Garreth. Fortunately, there were no quidditch practices to force you to interact with him. You studied in the Undercroft instead of the library. When you weren’t studying, you holed up in your dorm room where he couldn’t reach you. He tried to get Natty or Cressida to convince you to talk to him, but you were still too mad. You had spent months looking forward to the Yule Ball. You’d gushed to him about your excitement for the event dozens of times. It had never crossed your mind that your boyfriend wouldn’t escort you.

He managed to corner you once, on your way out of the potions exam. You suspected he had finished well before you and lingered for the express purpose of trying to talk to you. He chased you out, pulling you into an alcove in the corridor. “MC, I’m sorry,” he said, looking devestated. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You scowled, but you were listening.

“I just…I didn’t realise you cared so much about a silly little ball,” he continued, inserting his foot directly into his mouth.

You scoffed, shoving past him and starting down the corridor.

“Wait, that came out wrong,” Garreth said, rushing after you.

“Did it, now?” you replied, unconvinced.

You stopped abruptly, spinning back to face him as you crossed your arms over your chest. Garreth almost walked straight into you, but he caught himself just in time.

You arched an accusing brow at him. “Was this supposed apology going to involve you asking me to said ‘silly little ball’?”

“I…Well…” he stammered, his nervous eyes looking anywhere but at you.

You huffed as you whipped back around. Garreth called after you as you stormed away, but you didn’t stop that time.

Your anger continued to simmer through the end of exams on the 23rd. Normally, the Hogwarts Express would’ve been packed that evening as students headed home for the Christmas holidays. However, it was nearly empty that night. It seemed everyone else was as excited for the ball as you were – everyone except your boyfriend, that is.

You spent hours practising spells in the Undercroft that evening. Ominis found you down there. The smell of smouldering crates filled his nose immediately.

“Still upset with Garreth, I take it?” Ominis asked as he strode into the room.

“Yep,” you replied curtly.

“Are you going to stop talking to him forever over a dance?” he asked seriously, folding his arms as he leaned back against a blank stretch of stone wall.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not the dance. It’s that he knew how excited I was for it and still had no plans to attend it with me. It’s like he doesn’t care about what’s important to me.”

Ominis cocked his head to the side as he considered your words. “Have you explained that to him?”

Your jaw tensed. “I shouldn’t have to.”

Ominis pursed his lips, shaking his head slightly. “That’s a healthy way to handle it,” he said sarcastically.

“I don’t want to hear it, Mr. My Relationship is Soooo Perfect,” you groused. “You and Poppy both love dancing. It’s not fair.”

You crossed your arms in a huff.

Ominis smirked at the mention of his girlfriend. “Well, we are fortunate in that,” he said. “I’ll save a dance for you, tough, shall I?”

“That’d be lovely. It’ll be the only one I get,” you replied – admittedly, being a bit melodramatic.

Ominis snorted. “Right. Because people can only dance at a ball if they already have a partner.”

“Will you just let me sulk?” you snapped.

Ominis rolled his eyes. “You’ve been sulking all week, MC,” he pointed out. “I won’t let you ruin the ball for yourself.”

You sighed. He had a point. Just because Garreth was being an arse didn’t mean you shouldn’t try to enjoy the event you’d been looking forward to since the end of spring term.

The door to the seventh-year boys’ dormitory shut with a soft click. Leander stared at his best mate, lying face-down in bed on top of his sheets.

“I take it the grovelling didn’t go well?” he asked as he crossed the room to sit on the edge of his own bed.

Garreth mumbled incoherently into his pillow.

“Come again?” Leander said.

Garreth turned his head to the side, still lying boneless otherwise. “There was no grovelling,” he said. “She still won’t speak to me. Or listen. Or do anything but bolt the other direction when I spot her in the halls.”

Leander hummed sympathetically. “Did you try having Natty pass along your apology?”

“She refused,” Garreth said dismally. “Said I should apologise to her myself, even though that’s literally impossible seeing as MC won’t be in the same wing of the castle as me for more than five seconds. I don’t know what to do, Lee.”

Leander clicked his tongue. “That is a tough spot,” he said. “I suppose you do know one place you can definitely find her.”

“She hasn’t used the Room of Requirement all week. I checked with Deek,” Garreth argued.

“I was talking about the Yule Ball,” Leander said, rolling his eyes at his hopelessly thick friend.

Garreth pushed himself up on his arms so he could turn to look at Leander. “And how is embarrassing myself at a ball going to help anything?” he demanded.

Leander let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s really not that complicated, mate. She’s mad at you because you wouldn’t take her to the ball. So, go there and dance with her. After the grovelling. That bit’s still essential, trust me.”

“But I can’t dance,” Garreth argued.

Leander shrugged. “I’ll teach you.”

Garreth chewed his lip as he considered the option. “Okay…But what if she bolts the second she sees me? Or, worse, takes someone else to the dance?”

Leander pursed his lips. He had to admit that they were both quite plausible outcomes. “I’ll handle it.”

“How?” Garreth inquired.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You just focus on using the next 48 hours to make sure you won’t crush her toes when you finally dance with her.”

Garreth, still looking anxious, just nodded.

“Brilliant! Now, on your feet. I’m going to teach you to waltz,” Leander said.

Saturday morning, Leander caught you leaving your dorm for breakfast. “MC! Just the girl I wanted to see!” he said brightly as you descended the stairs into the Gryffindor common room.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever Garreth wants to tell me, I don’t want to hear it,” you groused, brushing past him.

“Actually,” Leander said as he caught your hand to make you stop, “I wanted to ask a favour.”

Your brow furrowed. You crossed your arms sceptically, but you made no move to dart away. “A favour?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

Leander gulped down his nerves as he nodded his head. “Well, I was…I was wondering if you’d go to the Yule Ball with me.”

You blinked rapidly as you processed his words. “Oh,” you said in surprise. “I would’ve thought you’d be going with Sebastian. You two have been dancing around each other for ages, after all.”

Leander sucked his teeth. “Yes, well, Violet beat me to asking him, evidently,” he explained with a rather sour expression. “So, I thought we might go together, since Garreth’s being a numpty. As friends, of course, but…also to make our boys a bit jealous, maybe.”

“You want to help me make Garreth jealous?” you asked in disbelief.

“Well, Garreth and Sebastian,” he replied. “Besides, I think he deserves it. He was a bit of a knob about the ball.”

You tilted your head, eyeing him for a long moment that had him starting to squirm. “Yeah, all right,” you agreed.

Leander beamed at you. “Brilliant! I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow night,” he said.

“See you then,” you replied.

Your Christmas morning was spent in the Gryffindor common room after Natty assured you that Garreth wasn’t down there. Almost the entire rest of your house was, though. There was a weight in your chest at not getting to celebrate with the man you loved – even if he was being a git. You also felt sorry for him that he was missing out on the festivities.

You didn’t see him the rest of the day, either. That night, you and Natty spent hours getting ready in your room. The mirror had nothing but compliments for the pair of you, and you were feeling quite good about yourself despite the recent tiff with Garreth. As such, you lingered in the common room early, hoping he’d catch a glimpse of you all dolled up. There might’ve been a part of you that wanted him to regret not spending that night with you.

He wasn’t there, though, and you began to wonder if he’d gone home for the rest of the holiday.

Your worrying was cut short when Leander emerged into the room. He smiled when he saw you. “You look beautiful, MC,” he said sweetly.

“Thank you. You look quite dashing yourself,” you replied.

He straightened the lapel of his dress robes proudly. They were black with deep green paisley accents.

“We’re quite a festive pair,” you said, looking down at your ruby red gown.

He laughed. “Yes, well, I had been planning on taking a Slytherin,” he said lightly.

“True,” you replied.

Leander held his arm out to you. “Shall we?”

You nodded and took hold of it, winding your own arm delicately around his.

The Great Hall had been totally transformed. It was almost unrecognisable. Instead of the usual floating candles, bright orbs of light hung in the air like shining stars. The edges of the room were lined with pine trees, full of twinkling lights and glittering ornaments. Each tree was decorated for one of the four houses. The dais was almost entirely taken over by a massive tree decorated in glass ornaments of all four houses’ mascots, crests, and other staples – like a glass rendition of the portrait of the fat lady and the mermaids from the fountain in the Slytherin common room.

The ceiling was enchanted to have snow falling softly, though it vanished before reaching any of you. It was truly magnificent. Your only regret was that Garreth wasn’t there to experience it with you. Before you could properly mope on the subject, Leander whisked you onto the dance floor. It was almost impossible to stay wistful when you were sweeping around the Great Hall in a two step to lively music. Leander led gracefully, his hold on you firm and his movements fluid and sure. You glided through the other couples, almost constantly spinning. It was a wonder you weren’t dizzy.

“You seem to have something on your mind,” Leander observed.

“I can’t help but wish Garreth were here,” you admitted.

“I see,” he replied.

“Sorry,” you said sincerely. “I don’t mean to insult you. You’re a wonderful dance partner.”

“Just not the one you planned on having,” he said knowingly.

You gave him an apologetic smile.

“I can hardly fault you for that,” he said.

As the song faded to its end, he released your back to spin you around once more, turning you rather quickly before suddenly releasing your hand, as well. You stumbled to get your footing until two strong hands steadied you at your hips, holding you still.

Your head spun a bit from the sudden stop, lashes fluttering as you looked up to find your boyfriend was the one who had caught you.

“Garreth,” you breathed, momentarily forgetting to be angry. You were too surprised. Too relieved. Too caught up in the sight of him with his softly styled curls and perfectly tailored dress robes. He wore a crisp black shirt under a white satin waistcoat and matching bowtie. A deep red robe topped the look. His satin lapels were embroidered with vines matching the ones on his waistcoat. The colour of the robe was exactly the same shade as your dress.

Your arms hung uselessly at your sides as you gaped at him. He gave you a meek smile as he gazed longingly into your eyes.

“You look stunning, darling,” he said. “I’m not as light-footed as Lee, but I’d be honoured to dance with you.”

You realised that, while time had seemed to stop, it had in fact pressed on, and the band was now playing a waltz. Garreth lifted one hand off your hips and held it out to you. You just looked down at it, still processing how you had gotten in this situation. You glanced around in search of Leander, but he had vanished.

“What are you doing here?” you asked dimly.

Garreth’s smile grew nervous. “Making up with my girlfriend, I hope.”

He shifted anxiously as his hand still hung empty in the air between you. You stepped back, his other hand slipping off your hip.

“You said you didn’t want to dance with me,” you said accusingly, finally remembering that you were cross with him.

“I know. I’m sorry, but you’re so good at it. And I…I have two left feet. I thought it’d be worse to have you realise how dreadful I am than for you to just go by yourself,” he said, his hands retreating into his pockets. “I…didn’t want to embarrass you.”

He chewed his lip, as he often did when anxious. Your own lips parted as you stared at him in shock.

Evidently, you took too long to reply, because he started speaking again. “I know Leander and I can be a bit ridiculous sometimes. And I’ve had more than a few mishaps with potions in class – and it’s the thing I’m best at. I just…didn’t want to give you another reason to be ashamed of me.”

His gaze dropped to his feet as his hands fidgeted in his pockets.

“I’d never be ashamed of you,” you assured him, a bit offended that he’d think you would be.

“Really?” he asked, seeming genuinely surprised by the idea as he looked up at you in shock.

“Garreth, I love you. Every bit of you,” you stated. “Why on earth would I be ashamed of you?”

His cheeks flushed. “I mean, my family is,” he admitted, seeming to shrink into himself as his eyes darted away again. “And the professors seem perpetually disappointed in me. It’s twice as bad with Aunt Matilda.”

He forced out a laugh, but you could tell he was quite hurt by the situation.

You brought a hand up to his jaw, gently tilting his head up so he’d look at you. “Well, I think you’re brilliant,” you said. “And they have every reason to be as proud of you as I am, Garreth. You’ve invented half a dozen potions just since I’ve known you – and improved even more. You’re incredibly kind, even when others are mean to you. And you constantly make me laugh, especially when you and Leander are ‘being ridiculous.’”

He gave you a shy, appreciative smile before pulling you into a hug. “I love you, MC. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”

You linked your arms around his back. “I’m sorry I didn’t just talk to you.”

He pressed a kiss into your pinned-up hair. “Me, too.”

You breathed out a laugh. “It was a pretty stupid fight when I think about it.”

“All our fights are stupid,” Garreth replied in an exasperated tone.

You pulled back to glare up at him. “Are you trying to start another one?” you asked in a low, warning voice.

Garreth smirked at you. “Maybe I like when you’re riled up,” he said cheekily. “You can’t wear a dress like this and expect me not to want to take it off of you, you know.”

“Garreth!” you hissed, smacking his chest as you glanced around to make sure no one had overheard him.

He pulled you back tight to him. “You really are especially gorgeous tonight,” he said in a low voice as his gaze roamed over you.

You could feel your cheeks heat under the fire in his eyes. “I…I think we should d-dance now,” you said, needing a distraction from the starved look in his eyes as they devoured you.

“Oh, um…” he said, suddenly nervous again. “I really only practised the waltz, so…maybe we could wait until they play another of those? I could get us some punch in the meantime.”

He had the most adorable hopeful smile on his face.

“Punch would be perfect,” you said sweetly.

“Done,” he said eagerly before darting off to fetch the drinks.

A blur of robes whirled over to you soon after. Leander had danced Sebastian over to where you stood. The latter’s black robes were a suspiciously similar style to the former’s – except his accents were red. Your fellow Gryffindor was looking exceptionally smug.

“Are my favourite lovebirds back in love?” Leander asked, waggling his eyebrows at you.

Your eyes narrowed into slits. “For a Gryffindor, you’re a snake, Leander Prewett.”

“I’m so proud,” Sebastian said, placing his hand on Leander’s cheek and gazing at him fondly. Then, he turned to look at you. “When he asked if he could pretend to take you to the ball, I said yes at once, of course.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “And what if we hadn’t made up?” you asked them severely. “What would you have done, then?”

Leander’s eyes widened as his smirk fell. He clearly hadn’t considered the idea.

“You two are too hopelessly besotted with each other for that,” Sebastian said easily, waving you off.

Garreth reappeared at your side then. “Here you go, love,” he said, handing you a glass before kissing your cheek.

“Thank you,” you murmured, a fresh blush dusting your cheeks.

“My work here is clearly done,” Leander said haughtily.

“I think you’re right, darling,” Sebastian agreed.

“Care to dance the night away?” Leander asked him, holding out his hand.

Sebastian beamed at him as he took it. “That sounds lovely,” he replied before they sauntered back to the dance floor.

Garreth leaned in to whisper in your ear. “See, that’s how you’re supposed to respond when a man asks you to dance,” he said teasingly.

“Oh, shut up,” you groused, but the words lacked any real bite.

“Never,” he retorted, a mischievous glint in his eye as you turned your head to glare at him.

He laced his fingers with the hand unoccupied by your drink.

“I have something for you,” he said.

You turned to face him. He dropped your hand and pulled a long, narrow box out from his pocket. It was too broad to be a wand but about the right length, and it had a gold ribbon tied carefully around it.

“Merry Christmas, MC,” he said softly.

Garreth traded the box for your drink. He was fidgeting as you examined it in your hands, clearly excited for you to open it. You carefully slipped the ribbon off before taking off the lid. Inside was a vibrant pink feather with a metal pointed tip.

Garreth started speaking before you could even thank him. “It took me a while to get the charms right. I just finished it up this morning, actually. It’s self-inking, so you don’t have to worry about an open inkpot spilling on your assignments. It’s spell-checking, too. That was the tricky part. But I got it sorted out, eventually. Promise.”

He laughed nervously. You were speechless for a moment as you looked up at him, warmth spreading through your chest as your heart squeezed with affection. Garreth bounced on the balls of his feet, the movement threatening to spill the glasses of punch in his hands. His bottom lip was grasped between his teeth, and a few stray curls were falling into his eyes.

You looked back down at the fwooper feather quill. “Garreth, this is so sweet,” you gushed, wondering how you’d managed to be upset with such a sweet man only a few hours ago.

His eyes lit up. “You like it?” he asked hopefully.

“I love it!” you assured him. “I have a gift for you, too, I just…I don’t have it with me.”

You left off adding that it was because you hadn’t expected him to be there. You didn’t want him to think you were still cross.

“All I wanted tonight is your forgiveness, MC,” he said with such earnestness that you worried you might melt right to the floor.

You brushed his hair out of his face. “You have it,” you replied, not wanting him to doubt it for a second. “Do you…do you forgive me, too?”

He ditched his punch on a tray floating nearby. He cupped his newly free hand over your cheek as he leaned in towards you, pressing his lips to yours gently in reassurance. He pulled back far too soon for your liking, though. “Always,” he vowed.

Your heart felt swollen to bursting. “I want to go get your present,” you said more intensely than the words merited as you reverently replaced the lid on the box.

“You don’t have to leave the dance. I know how much you were looking forward to it,” he said with such sweet consideration. You almost winced as you recalled calling him “inconsiderate” the other day. “You can give it to me tomorrow.”

“It should be now, I think,” you stated.

“It’s really not–” he started.

“It’s in the Room of Requirement,” you added, cutting him off. His brows drew together. He could tell you were trying to communicate something, but he couldn’t tell what it was. Bless him, you thought. “You should come.”

A beat later his eyebrows shot up to his curls as realisation struck. You almost laughed when he just replied with a rather serious “yes” before quickly abandoning the other nearly-full punch glass on the tray.

He followed you out of the Great Hall. Once alone in the corridors, you clutched the box to your heart with one hand and laced the other with his. He lagged behind you as you tugged him along.

“Getting cold feet?” you joked, hoping to speed him up a bit.

“Just admiring the view,” he replied cheekily.

You glanced over your shoulder to find him staring down at your bum. He smirked at you when he saw that you’d caught him.

“You’ll have a much better one once you get this dress off me like you promised,” you said in a sultry tone.

In the flickering candlelight of the hallway, you could see Garreth’s eyes darken as he held your gaze. Then, he took off sprinting and called back impatiently, “Come on!”

You giggled as you chased after him. He slowed to a jog to let you catch up. You only paused briefly to take off your heels. When you reached the seventh floor of the Astronomy Tower, he was on you before the entrance had even fully materialised. He held your face in both hands as he kissed you hungrily, backing you into the forming door.

A needy ache started low in your stomach as he nipped at your bottom lip. You’d been without him for too long, stupidly holding a grudge over a simple misunderstanding about…something, surely. You couldn’t remember what now.

Garreth held you to him with a hand behind your back as his other felt blindly for the handle. His hold on you kept you upright as the door gave way behind you. Your heels slipped from your fingers and clattered to the floor as he backed you inside, and you tangled your now free hand in the base of his curls as you devoured his lips.

Your back smacked into the wall, and Garreth pressed himself against you. Your legs parted to allow him in closer, and you could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against your centre. Your body tried to gasp and moan at the same time as he shifted his attention to your neck whilst his hips ground into yours. It was one of the most needy, pathetic sounds you’d ever made, but it seemed to spur him on even more.

“Fuck, MC,” he groaned into your neck before biting down on the skin where it met your shoulder.

Your legs almost gave out from the delicious sting of it. It hurt, but it brought a wave of pleasure, as well. You loved when Garreth was almost animalistic in his need for you.

Your head lolled to the side, opening up your neck to him further as you used your purchase in his hair to hold him close. You spotted the supply cabinet next to you, and you slipped the box containing your quill onto it before you lost yourself and dropped it.

You then slipped your hand between the two of you to palm the tent straining Garreth’s neatly pressed trousers. He shuddered at your touch and let out a breathy moan in your ear. You stroked your hand up and down the length of him until he suddenly grabbed your wrist and pinned it back against the wall.

“You’re going to ruin me early, you minx,” he growled.

You felt a jolt of excitement at the idea that just touching him over his trousers could have him so worked up. Before you could even contemplate how to get your hand free and back on him, he dropped your wrist in favour of grabbing a handful of your arse. At the same time, his lips rejoined yours in a dizzying kiss. You were pliant in his arms as he slid his tongue into your mouth.

Without breaking your kiss, Garreth rucked up your dress so his hand could slide under the fabric, skating up the outside of your bare thigh. He groaned as he hiked your leg up around him, pulling you even closer. His hips pressed forward into yours, seeking friction, and you gasped against his lips as his shaft pressed firmly at your centre. It put a delightful but maddening pressure on the bundle of nerves there.

“Garreth,” you moaned out. “Please.”

“Please what, love?” he replied breathily. His verdant eyes nearly burnt into you as he looked down at you with such love and earnest. “I’ll give you anything. Just name it.”

You groaned with need as your hips shifted against his, continuing to rub his shaft against your core in a way that sent sparks of pleasure through you. It wasn’t enough, though. “Please,” you repeated, feeling almost drunk with desire. “I need you.”

“Fuck,” Garreth muttered. The desperation in your voice was wearing away whatever self-control he had left – it was never much when it came to you anyway. “As you wish, love.”

His fingers danced over your skin and traced the edge of your knickers at the crease of your thigh. He dipped into them, stroking his long fingers between your folds and making you keen.

“Merlin,” he breathed out. “You’re drenched for me, darling.”

You moaned as the pads of his fingers came up and circled over your clit. Your head fell back against the wall with a dull thud, and you had to grip his shoulders for support as your legs began to tremble.

“You look really good in these dress robes,” you quipped, already panting from his ministrations. He knew your body well, and it never took long for him to work you into a right state.

Garreth smirked at you. “I’ll look even better in you, love.”

As he said the words, his finger slipped inside of you. He quickly found a spot that had a tension coiling low in your abdomen.

“Fuck, Garreth,” you keened. “Oh, gods! That f-feels so good!”

He took a handful of your skirts, pinning them against your stomach to leave your knickers exposed. Garreth dropped to his knees in front of you. You scrambled for new supports as you could no longer reach his shoulders. One hand scraped along the wall behind you while the other tangled into his curls.

“Evanesco,” Garreth said, his breath ghosting over your core. He watched his finger disappearing into you without the obstruction of your knickers. “So gorgeous.”

You could feel your face flushing at the praise. Garreth was quite keen on your intimate parts, and he always made sure you knew it.

He leaned forward and licked at your centre as his finger kept pumping into you. Garreth groaned even louder than you did. “Gods, you taste divine, darling,” he said before licking you again.

He kissed and sucked on your little nub, and you prayed your legs wouldn’t give out altogether. If they did, though, you were confident Garreth would catch you in time.

His tongue flicked over you eagerly, and the coil that had wound in your abdomen threatened to snap.

“Gar, I…I’m….” you tried, but then you couldn’t breathe let alone speak when your muscles tensed as you succumbed to utter euphoria.

You called out his name as waves of pleasure rocked through you, each sensation heightened as Garreth kept licking ravenously at you. You were practically convulsing from the intensity of your high. You might’ve felt embarrassed by your reaction if Garreth hadn’t looked so utterly enamoured with watching you fall apart so unreservedly.

About the same time, a loud crack rang out through the dimly lit room.

Garreth dropped your skirts and his head whipped around, his finger sliding out of you as he turned. You looked up blearily toward the noise, and your pleasure was immediately replaced with a shock of horror.

“Oh, dear!” Deek said, gaping at the two of you in such a compromising position.

Garreth blinked at the elf, whose eyes were wide and cheeks were reddening as he looked at the young wizard’s glistening face. You were too stunned and embarrassed to speak.

With a quick swish of his wand, Garreth calmed the erection that had been straining his outfit. He’d learned the spell early in your relationship, as you had a habit of riling him up at any number of inconvenient times – in class, during meals, before you left on some adventure. Essentially, any time he was around you, he was at risk, and the spell was easier than always donning oversized robes whose sleeves would dip into his cauldron when he tried to brew.

“Professor Weasley asked Deek to check on the students after they disappeared from the ball,” the elf said. He decided it was better to look at his feet than the pair of you. “She also asked Deek to remind Mr. Weasley that a child has not been born out of wedlock to your family in over a century and Mr. Weasley will not be changing that.”

Garreth, who has been furiously wiping off his mouth and chin, flushed crimson at that. “Right,” he said in a stilted tone, shifting nervously on his feet. “Is she expecting a…a report back?”

“Deek will not tell the professor what he, uh…stumbled in on,” the elf assured them. “But the students should return to the ball promptly. Deek does not want to have to come back.”

Another loud crack rang through the room as Deek left.

“Well, that was mortifying,” Garreth said as he rubbed at his temples.

“And you weren’t the one with your bits out,” you quipped as you fought the urge to bury your face in your hands. “At least Deek’s not going to tell your aunt.”

“Merlin, I half expect she’ll know anyway, to be honest,” he replied. He pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known we wouldn’t get away with slinking out of the ball like that.”

You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around him, as well. “I was the one who lured you up here,” you pointed out.

“I came quite willingly,” he argued.

You brought your hand down to palm him through his trousers again. “You didn’t come at all, unfortunately.”

Garreth moaned, dropping his forehead onto yours as you stroked him, rapidly undoing the work of his spell.

You bit your bottom lip as you locked eyes with him. “I don’t think we have time for you to make good on your promise to get me out of this dress, but…” You spun in his arms, pressing your arse back against him as you braced your hands against the wall. “I think we could still make it work.”

Garreth groaned. He grabbed your hips, pulling you tight against him. He smoothed one hand over your arse appreciatively before sliding it down to grip low on your skirts. He pulled the fabric up around your waist, so your lower half was completely bare to him. He immediately bent to place a lovebite on the curve of your cheek, while his hands kneaded into both of them. You moaned as his teeth grazed your skin.

“You ready for me, love?” he asked, his lips brushing the mark he’d just left.

“Gods, yes!” you replied eagerly, shifting your hips back a bit further in an attempt to entice him to get on with it already.

Garreth stood up straight again as he undid his trousers. He pulled himself free from the garments and wasted no time in dragging the head of his cock through your soaked slit. He anchored a hand on your hip as he slid into you.

He let out a ragged breath as he bottomed out. “You feel amazing!” he groaned. His other hand gripped your hips, as well, and he began thrusting in and out of you. “You’ve no idea how much I missed you, love!”

You wanted to argue – tell him you were sure you knew exactly how much, because you’d missed him, too – but you could only keen as he rocked you forward with each of his thrusts, filling you completely on every push inside. There was really nothing like it. He felt tailor-made for you.

You were so enraptured that you almost didn’t notice when a mirror appeared on the wall in front of you. You gasped in surprise as you looked up, catching sight of Garreth’s reflection. He winked at you.

“Fuck, I was right,” he panted, causing you to draw your brows together in confusion. “I do look even better inside you.”

You let out a laugh. He was utterly ridiculous, and it only made you love him that much more.

“Don’t worry, love,” he said with a cheeky smile, still pumping into you and also still holding your gaze through the mirror. “You look even better. I mean, gods, look at you! All done up.” He wrapped a hand gently around your throat, letting his thumb stroke up your jaw and across your painted lips. You parted them and sucked his thumb into your mouth, pressing your tongue flat against the pad of it like you would the underside of his cock. Garreth’s eyelids fluttered as he let out a low moan. “And in this dress…” He withdrew his thumb and fisted the same hand into the fabric pooled up near your ribs. “Your arse…” He gave it a squeeze, the tips of his nails just barely digging into your skin. “I fucking love your bloody gorgeous arse!”

His thrusts grew firmer, his hips slapping louder against your cheeks and thighs. You moaned as the force sent shocks of pleasure through you.

“Faster,” you begged, half because you knew it’d take a quicker pace to get him off and half (maybe more) because you wanted him to pound into you until your body held the memory of his cock inside you forever.

Garreth was keen to oblige. His grip on your hips was bruising as he slammed into you at a pace that had you barely able to keep your breath let alone even think about trying to keep up with his movements. All you could do was brace yourself on the wall as he took you.

“Ah, fuck!” Garreth groaned as you clenched hard around him. In the mirror, you could see that his head was thrown back in ecstasy. “So bloody perfect!”

His eyes snapped open, immediately locking with yours as his movements stuttered. He let out a strangled moan as he came, his cock pulsing deep inside you. You could feel the warmth dripping down as his semen started to leak out of you. Rather than pull out, Garreth leaned down over top of you to capture your lips. One arm wrapped around your stomach while the other hand tilted your chin toward him. You were both panting, unable to go without oxygen for long, but the brief kiss expressed the depth of your affections all the same.

“You’re never allowed to be cross with me again,” Garreth joked. “I can’t stand being apart from you for so long.”

You were inclined to vow he never would be as you stared into his bright green eyes, crinkling at the corners as he beamed at you.

“I can’t bear it, either,” you said.

Garreth pressed another chaste kiss to your lips. “I love you, MC. So much.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I love you, too. Even more.”

He glared at you playfully. “Those are fighting words, witch.”

Your smile turned into a smirk. “Then I’m lucky I’m a much better duellist.”

Garreth rolled his eyes but couldn’t deny it. Finally, he moved to right himself, sliding out of you before he helped you upright, as well. You both made quick work of making yourselves presentable – smoothing out your clothes, fixing your hair, and ensuring neither of you retained the sweat or musk of your recent activities. Garreth pouted a bit when you conjured new knickers for yourself, as he rather liked the idea of having easy access should you get the opportunity to sneak off again.

Once you were both put together, Garreth started for the door.

“Wait! I haven’t given you your present!” you said, quickly moving to rummage in your cabinet.

He chuckled. “I assumed you were the present.”

You glanced back at him with a raised eyebrow. “That’d be rather selfish of me, wouldn’t it?”

Garreth grinned broadly. “Actually, I considered it quite generous.”

You rolled your eyes, but you did find it rather sweet. “Consider this a stocking stuffer, then,” you said as you handed him a small box.

Garreth opened it to reveal a stack of cardstock. His mouth fell open as he picked up one of the small, rectangular cards to get a closer look.

“I saw the logo in your notes, and I thought it was really good,” you explained. “I figured you’ll need these once we graduate.”

Garreth looked from the card to you and back down again. In golden, embossed lettering were the words Exquisite Elixirs in a large, curly font curved underneath a rendering of a cauldron whose whirls of steam were spiralling upwards off the paper. On the other side, there was a little portrait of Garreth and a description of his company.

He still hadn’t spoken, so you continued, “If you tap it with a wand, it turns into an order form. I know you plan on being able to fill orders by owl.”

He looked up at you again, and his eyes were misty now. He pulled you into a tight hug. “Thank you! These are perfect!”

Ever since he started the process to register the brand, his parents had seemed doubtful. They kept lecturing him on what a “serious business” it was to run a company. His older brother had a friend of his lecture him on the myriad permits and regulations involved in the brewing industry – all things Garreth had already learnt in his research and discussions with Mr. Pippin. His aunt had tried to convince him to take a year or two to apprentice at J. Pippin’s, but Garreth knew he didn’t need it. He’d spent ages at the shop picking the potioneer’s brain. He’d also hounded Sharp with his questions during his office hours – almost no one else went to them, anyway.

The business cards, aside from showing how closely you paid attention, indicated that you actually believed in him. That meant the world to Garreth, especially because he knew you weren’t scared to let him know when you thought an idea of his was foolish. You wouldn’t just go along with things to make him feel good. You truly thought that he could run a successful shop.

He slipped one of the cards into his pocket before tucking the box safely with the rest of his brewing supplies.

The two of you took the floo down to the Great Hall to save time. You slipped back into the ball and immediately noticed Professor Weasley’s scrutinising gaze on you. You resisted the urge to smooth your hair, as it would only incriminate you. Instead, you gave her a polite wave.

She waved back, but you didn’t like the knowing look her smile had. You flushed as you quickly pulled Garreth toward the drink table. You were practically dying of thirst. You ran into Natty and Poppy as Garreth poured you both drinks. They both looked stunning in their gowns. Poppy’s was yellow with cap sleeves and full skirts. Natty’s was a brilliant white with her sleeves to her elbows and a corset nipping in her waist before the flair of her bustle.

“I was glad to hear you and Garreth finally made up,” Natty said, smiling at you as you approached.

“Did Leander already tell you?” you asked.

“Ominis did,” Poppy said.

You raised an eyebrow. “How did Ominis know?”

“I know everything that happens in this castle,” the Slytherin said as he stepped up to Poppy’s side. He handed her a drink before wrapping his arm around her waist.

“So, Leander told you and you told them?” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I didn’t need to be told anything,” Ominis said arrogantly.

Garreth returned with your drink, and you gave him an appreciative smile.

“I’m quite observant on my own,” Ominis continued. “Which is how I know you two have been up to no good. Couldn’t wait for dinner to find something to eat, Garreth?”

The redhead choked on his punch. “W-what?” he spluttered, wiping his mouth with a serviette a house-elf had promptly provided.

Poppy and Natty went wide-eyed as they caught Ominis’s meaning. Your face was burning. How could he know? Had Deek told?

“Don’t be coy now,” Ominis teased. “It’s quite obvious. I could – ahem – smell her on you when we were getting drinks. I wouldn’t hug your aunt without cleaning up if you don’t want detentions until you graduate.”

Poppy clapped a hang over her mouth to keep from giggling. Natty looked horrified. You and Garreth both gaped at Ominis. You had checked before you left the Room of Requirement. You swore you couldn’t smell anything that would suggest what the two of you had been up to in there. But, then, Ominis often heard things you couldn’t. Maybe it was the same with his sense of smell? At any rate, you were never going to live this down.

“I think they’re playing a waltz,” Garreth said, turning to you. “How about that dance?”

You downed your drink and took hold of his outstretched hand. “That sounds like a great idea,” you replied.

“Leave room for the nargles!” Ominis called after you before snickering with Poppy.

You made it onto the dance floor and were quickly lost in the crowd of swirling couples. You hid your face in Garreth’s chest, but you couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, gods, I think this is officially the most mortifying night of my life,” you said light-heartedly once you’d composed yourself.

Garreth started to spin you as you danced now that you weren’t burying your face in his robes.

“I think we’d best get our own place once we’re out of this castle full of nosy gits,” he said resolutely.

You let out another laugh. “Yeah, living together unwed wouldn’t have people talking at all,” you said sarcastically.

Garreth lifted his hand, and you turned under it before stepping back into his arms. “It would, wouldn’t it?” he said, giving you a knowing smile.

You gave him a questioning look in return.

“I’m not about to propose on – as you put it – ‘the most mortifying night of your life’ if that’s what you’re thinking,” Garreth said severely as he continued to lead you around the dance floor. “But if I were to…?”

“Were to what?” you replied, playing thick, as he dipped you.

“Were to propose, obviously,” Garreth said, exasperated, before pulling you back up. “What would you think of it?”

As you did another turn, you suppressed a smile that threatened to break onto your lips. “Are you, then?” you asked before clarifying, “Proposing?”

“Not yet,” he replied with an easy smile as he stepped forward to take you back in his arms.

“Then I’m not telling,” you stated, a hint of a sly smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Garreth rolled his eyes at you. “You vex me, witch,” he said drily.

“I just know you like surprises,” you replied innocently.

“Good ones,” he clarified.

 “Exactly,” you said, winking at him.

A broad grin spread on his face, and he seemed lost in thought as he stared over your shoulder as the two of you spun slowly around the room.

You snapped him out of it when you said seriously, “This isn’t about that message from your aunt, is it? You haven’t been skipping your potions?”

“No, of course not. I take them every week,” he said. “You?”

“Every month,” you assured him.

“That’s so not fair,” he groused. “Why are the contraceptives for blokes four times as often?”

“We’ll see what’s ‘not fair’ when I’m the one carrying our babies for nine months each,” you retorted.

Garreth smirked at you. He looked insufferably smug.

“What?” you bit out, not seeing the humour in all the hardships that were sure to come with your future pregnancies.

“You said ‘when,’” he pointed out.

“Huh?” you replied, befuddled.

“You said, ‘when I’m the one carrying our babies,’” he said, doing a poor – and rather screechy – imitation of your voice.

You smacked him on the chest. “I do not sound like that,” you groused.

Garreth’s grin grew even wider. He looked utterly chuffed. “But you did say it. ‘When’ and ‘our.’ You want to have my babies.”

“Shut up,” you said tetchily, trying to pull out of his arms so you could go dig a hole to crawl into.

Garreth just held you tighter, laughing at your attempts to wriggle free. “You want to marry me and have my babies, and I’m happy to oblige, love. You just tell me when.”

You froze as you gaped at him. “Did you just–?”

“Officially? No. I’m still not letting you tell our children I proposed on the most mortifying night of your life,” he said seriously.

“There is very little about this night fit to tell any children, let alone our own,” you quipped.

Garreth gave you a lopsided smile. “Yeah,” he said wistfully. “It’s been a good one.”

You shook your head at him. “You’re incorrigible,” you said disapprovingly.

He stared at you like you were as luminous as one of the twinkling lights floating above you. “You’re incredible,” he said fondly before dipping his head to kiss you.

You melted in his arms as Garreth held you tight to his chest.

“Oi! Get a room, you degenerates!” Leander said, bumping Garreth’s shoulder as he twirled by with a sniggering Sebastian.

“That’s not as effective as you might think!” Garreth called back, making you laugh.

#garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #garreth weasley fanfic #garreth weasley fanfiction #garreth weasley being a sweet insecure little bean #ominis gaunt #leander prewett #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x leander prewett #because i must always include enemies to lovers somehow lol #but I actually love their dynamic #i lowkey ship it #yule ball

[padfootagain]

Where We Kept Our Magic (IV)

How We Parted

Hello lovelies! Here is a new part for my Muggle!Reader AU!! I hope you like this new scene, tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x Muggle!Reader

Warnings: it’s a little sad :(

Summary: You and Sirius meet when you’re still young, and yet you fall head over heels for each other. But everything gets complicated when you learn that Sirius is a Wizard! Now, your whole world has to be reimagined. -This series is made of many independent snippets taken from Sirius and Muggle!Reader’s lovestory –

Word Count : 1792

The weather isn’t so warm anymore. September is upon you and with it, a cool breeze has settled over London. The trees remain green and lush for now, but you know they will soon colour themselves in warmer tones, before letting their leaves fall.

Sirius is lying in the grass, by the Serpentine. His head on your laps, he lets you run your fingers through his hair, heaves a content sigh at the soothing feeling. It’s a quiet afternoon, or perhaps it’s only getting late, and families are home already. But Sirius has no intention to move. After all, you’re here, with your fingers in his hair, why would he want to leave?

Besides, tomorrow morning, he’ll go King’s Cross station, run through a wall and board the Hogwarts Express. And then he’ll be off, just like that. Just like that…

He doesn’t see how this can work. How can he even write to you? He can’t use an owl… Euphemia and Fleamont have offered to go the post office, but Sirius is reluctant. He doesn’t want to bother them…

Still, he doesn’t want this to end. He likes you. An awful lot. Actually, he’s starting to truly fall for you, all the way down towards love, but he can’t bring himself to say it out loud or to even think of the word. It’s too hard for him. After living with his family, love is too close to hatred for him to look at you and think of that word. After all, there isn’t an ounce of hatred in his heart targeted towards you.

Anyway, this is not the point. The point is that he’s about to leave for Scotland, and you won’t. The point is that he has no clue how to contact your properly. He’s given you a fake address that will lead to the Potters’ house so you can write to him, but again, he doesn’t want to bother them. He bothers them enough already…

“What’s going in this busy head of yours, honey?”

Honey. You’ve started calling him that about three weeks ago, and he adores it. It sounds so sweet, so much like you in your yellow sundress. So unlike him, in his dark t-shirt and heavy boots. So unlike him, with his name tainted with night…

Sirius merely hums in response, closing his eyes again, the leaves of the oak tree you’re leaning against disappearing beyond his eyelids. You don’t let him get away with it so easily though, he’s almost endeared by it. He would have been, any other day, if the wait of separation wasn’t so heavy on his heart today.

“Sirius? You’re alright?”

He shrugs. He knows he’ll give up in a few seconds, your fingers are too gentle as they get lost in his hair, your warmth too soothing.

He looks up at you again. He’s put his leather jacket on your shoulders about half an hour ago, before he lied down, because he noticed you were shivering. You look adorable. You look beautiful. He never wants this to end. He wants to keep his jacket on your shoulders forever…

“Just… a little sad that I’m leaving,” he admits. “Which is weird, cause I’ve always been eager to go to Hogwarts before.”

You nod, a small smile on your lips.

“Is it because of me?”

“Who else could it be? Certainly not because of Jackie, she’s insufferable.”

“You like her. And she likes you too.”

He can’t refrain a smile at that. He’s surprised when one of your hands leaves his hair to reach for his fingers instead.

“I don’t want us to break up,” you admitted, earnest and suddenly vulnerable, perhaps more so than what you intended.

“Me neither.”

“I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for you to come back. It’s only a few months before Christmas. Besides, I’ll write to you, daily if you miss me too much.”

Your tone is teasing, but Sirius winces, and your heart shudders at the sight, a crack runs through the porcelain of it, ready to break altogether.

“You don’t want me to write to you?”

You see Sirius hesitate, and you hate it. And he knows you hate it. It hurts him too.

“I want you to write to me,” he finally answers, after a rather long pause, choosing his words carefully. “But you can’t write directly to my school, it won’t work. And I don’t want to bother the Potters too much…”

Slowly, you nod.

“I see. I understand. Perhaps… not too often?”

Slowly, he nods. He looks worried now, sad even. And he is.

You run your thumb across his knuckles, the tip of your fingers grazing his silver rings, the metal cold against his warm skin.

“They’ve already taken me in after I ran away last summer… I don’t want to be a burden.”

Slowly, you nod. You don’t ask anything, even if Sirius guesses that questions are burning on the tip of your tongue. But you don’t ask. About his family, about why he ran away… you never do. And he’s grateful for it, but sometimes he wonders why you don’t.

Are you afraid? Or simply kind?

He sits up without warning, and his back is almost to you now. He heaves a sigh, putting even more distance between the two of you, and you hate it.

Still, you don’t ask.

His eyes drift towards the river, towards the dirty, muddy water filled with lost feathers. A group of swans swims away, without taking a single look back.

“Sirius?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re okay?”

“Of course.”

A pregnant pause. An expectation. You take him aback with your statement.

“I don’t want you to leave. I’ll miss you.”

The ghost of a smile grazes his lips, he reaches for your hand, but doesn’t turn to you for now.

“I’ll miss you too.”

His hold is a little too tight, you know he’s holding back. You’ve grown used to it. Gently, you splay a hand across his spine, the fabric of his t-shirt soft under your palm despite the dust and the dry grass that have clung to the material here and there.

“Please, don’t hold back,” you ask so gently, Sirius’s eyes fill with tears. “It’s our last afternoon together before Christmas. Don’t hold back. What’s bothering you?”

He clears his throat, the tears gone, replaced by a tightly set jaw.

“You never ask.”

“What do you mean?”

“You never ask about my family.”

You shrug.

“I know that it’s difficult for you to talk about it. I reckon… that you’ll tell me more about it when you’re ready. I don’t want to push you, if you’re not ready.”

At long last, he turns to look at you again, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say, anyway…

He hesitates before speaking again. Because it sounds silly. He reckons you won’t understand. And it would hurt a lot more than he can admit. But there’s a weight on his heart, and he wants to lift it, even if it can’t last for long.

“I’m going to see my brother at Hogwarts.”

“Regulus?”

He nods.

“I don’t know how I feel about it,” he confesses. “I miss him. But… I also hate him.”

“Do you hate him? Are you simply angry?”

He considers the question. It’s a little too accurate, and he smiles.

“Yeah… I think I’m angry. I’m angry he chose to stay. I’m angry I can’t protect him anymore. I’m angry he doesn’t have the guts to break free. I’m angry he’s uncertain about my parents beliefs.”

“But you still miss him.”

“Yeah… yeah, I miss him.”

He sets his gaze on the river again, lets go of your hand to wrap his arms around his knees.

“The first time I took the train, my mother was so proud. And I both loved it and hated it. And I think… I’m angry because it didn’t really change. I don’t believe in any of the conservative bullshit my parents are so adamant to defend, and I’ll never forgive them for how much they hurt me and my brother. And yet I… every time I get on that train I see my mother’s face beaming at me and looking at me as if I was the most extraordinary thing in the world, and I long for this feeling again.”

He heaves a sigh.

“I want you to write to me. But the Potters… they didn’t have to take me in, and they did. I don’t want them to regret doing that.”

“I’ll write to you once a month. Would that be alright? That’s not too often.”

Slowly, Sirius nods.

“Okay, I’ll wait for your letter, and I’ll reply.”

“Okay.”

He’s surprised when you wrap your arms around him from behind, when you rest your cheek against his shoulder blade. He loves it though. He feels soothed all over again, his busy mind quietened again. The face of Walburga disappears, and the muddy water is back instead, with its white swans almost disappearing now, in the distance.

“Why do I miss them, when I hate them?”

You tighten your hold on him before you answer.

“They raised you. They loved you, even if it hurt. They taught you how it is to be loved first. You have to rewrite that definition, with better people, better examples. But they’re still your family, even if they hurt you. Your mother still looked at you with pride that day, even if she hurt you only a few hours before. It’s not black and white, like everything else in life. I reckon… it was so familiar a feeling, such a mingling of pain and love, you can’t really tell them apart anymore. Am I wrong?”

Sirius shook his head, stunned.

“I don’t dare asking you questions about your family, because I know it hurts,” you go on, your tone infinitely kind. “But I still care. Do you understand? I care about you, about who you are… I just… don’t want to hurt you. But you can tell me about it whenever you feel ready, okay? I’m… it’s not disinterest, it’s just… caution.”

Slowly, he nods.

“Thank you.”

He holds your hands in his, twisting his neck to press his temple against your hair, closing his eyes.

And his gratefulness tastes like love, but he’s not ready to admit it. You’re right, he needs to redefine the word, before speaking it again, and aim it at you.

When he kisses you, a few minutes later, it tastes like goodbye, but it’s not as sad as you expected it to be. And when he tells you he’ll wait for you, that he’ll wait for Christmas, that you can count on him, it’s easy to believe him…

#sirius black #sirius orion black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black series #series #hp fanfiction #hp #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

[tashacee]

did i just spend the last half hour counting how many words are in 'Aspects of Two Idiots' so i could properly add it to my ao3 year-in-review instead of asking for the word count like a normal person? yes i did! (i counted 1792 btw!!)

worth it tho, i love the Hero's Aspect AU so much, it's incredible

oh FRIEND! Oh no! You could have pasted it into a word doc! You could have asked me! Oh no! I am so sorry you spent so long on this!

Also year in review???? OOOOOOH! Excite!

And thank you so so much, i'm glad you enjoy it!

#it me #replies #hero’s aspect au #hero's aspect

[tatesdiary]

masterlist

started 11 Oct.

Tate Langdon

Intruders word count 1414

When the group that wants to reenact the murder scene of the two girls catches you and your mom Vivien, you don't expect a certain blonde haired boy to save you.

No more word count 675

Tate comes up to see you after your dad told him he couldn't be his psychiatrist anymore.

Ghosts & mommy issues word count 1792

Trying to find Tate ends differently when you see him crying in the basement.

Stay home today? word count 521

You knew from Moira that Tate and his mother had fought, but you didn't expect for him to cling onto you all day. Did it matter when he was so cute, though?

Jimmy Darling

Nightmares word count 658

Elsa's group welcomes you after you manage to escape the clown's grasp, but nightmares still follow you every night. Jimmy helps with that.

Knives on a wheel word count 1506

After Elsa's meltdown when she's searching for someone to be out on the wheel, you feel it's best so volunteer. You knew very well Jimmy would do it if you hadn't said anything. And you'd seen her practice, it was sure you wouldn't be injured. Or at least not badly.

Kit Walker

Escape word count 2484

After being admitted unfairly yourself you knew how it looks and feels like to be blamed for something you didn't do. Seeing Kit Walker you believed him the second he said he didn't do it. Sticking together was the deal but instead you fell for him.

Taking the blame word count 969

When one of the new patients starts acting up with you Kit is quick to come to your defence. He earns himself a scolding from you when the next time you meet is in the infirmary with him in bandages.

Nightmare word count 365

Kit often has nightmares of his life before you; his life in the asylum filled with mistreatment. Good that he has you now, isn't it?

James Patrick March

After dark word count 433

He was a cruel, cruel man to everyone but you.

#tate langdon x reader #tate langdon #evan peters x reader #american horror story #evan peters #jimmy darling x reader #jimmy darling #ahs freakshow #ahs murder house #masterlist

[stardustandash]

Falling Like a Memory - Jedi Survivor

Summary: “This was not his first time in an escape pod after the Purge, nor would it be the last, unless he was either very lucky or extremely unlucky. But this was the first time since then he’d been in one that was so similar.” A little scene expansion for the escape pod sequence after completing the Lucrehulk.

Word Count: 1792

Tags: PTSD, angst, Cal being unaware of his own mental state

If you prefer reading on ao3 this is the link. (Note that it is locked to registered users only)

Escape pods. It just had to be escape pods. While Bode was right, it was the fastest way out of the Lucrehulk, it didn’t make it any easier. Cal’s hands deftly inputted the launch sequence. It was something he’d gone over in his head again and again after the Purge when his hands were too small and shaky to get the input right. Never again would he slip up launching an escape pod in a life or death situation. However, he did not think getting off the Lucrehulk after knowing Dagan wasn’t sitting around on it any more was a life-or-death situation. It seemed more of a confident, if not victorious, then alive and not in imminent danger kind of thing.

They could climb back down. It’s not like they hadn’t cleared out most of the Bedlam Raiders on the way up and set up convenient shortcuts through the ship. Or Bode could jetpack them down. Maybe Cal could hold onto Zee, and Bode could hold onto him, and let the jetpack resist gravity just enough to bring them down without breaking any bones or servos.

Yet he was reluctant to voice those thoughts. There was something about Bode that made Cal want to prove himself. Maybe it was that he was so much more capable, so much more at ease with his place and role in the galaxy as both a father and a mercenary. Not for the first time Cal thought that Bode would have made an excellent Jedi. It would be embarrassing to admit to someone like that he didn’t want to get into an escape pod because the thought of it made him want to throw up with nerves.

At least they would take different pods, even if all three of them, four counting BD-1, would have comfortably fit into one. The doors to the pods opened with a quiet hiss and Cal turned to Bode with what he hoped was a confident grin. Zee gave him one of her awkward, jerky waves behind Bode’s back before confidently strutting in her slow way into the escape pod.

“See you at the outpost,” said Bode as he followed Zee.

“Yup,” said Cal, still staring at the entrance to his own. “I’m coming.”

He forced himself to take one step, and then another. This was not his first time in an escape pod after the Purge, nor would it be the last, unless he was either very lucky or extremely unlucky. But this was the first time since then he’d been in one that was so similar. The Lucrehulk’s pods were nearly the exact same as the ones equipped on the Venators, probably much to the luck and wit of some rich arms dealer. The familiarity sent shivers down his spine, but it would look odd to Bode if he backed out of the launch now.

Hesitantly, Cal buckled himself into one of the jump seats and took a deep breath. This was worse than launching himself into the ocean on Nur to get the holocron back. The Mantis’ escape pods were narrow and tight and different enough that Cal could keep his mind where it was supposed to be. Punching the launch button on this escape pod felt like he was being shot straight into an echo. The escape pod rattled around him. Gravity settled in his stomach with a weightless swoop and with it Cal fell into the memory he’d been trying so hard to push away.

He was thirteen again, crying on the floor of the pod as it hurtled towards the cloud covered surface of Bracca. In his grip Master Tapal’s body was cooling, his empty, half-lidded eyes still staring up at the ceiling of the pod. What could Cal do but scream. His confusion, rage, and grief clawed its way out of his chest through his throat, tearing at his vocal cords and bouncing off the metal walls. He curled into himself, bracing for the impact he knew was coming. The pod lurched, bouncing against the wet ground before sliding to a halt with a bang and a jerk. For several moments Cal sat curled in his seat. He could smell the rain, the underlying copper tang of rusting metal that permeated Bracca and everything unfortunate enough to be on it. Cal didn’t want to open his eyes. He knew what he would see. The same image that haunted his nightmares on sleepless nights; Master Tapal’s disappointed expression frozen in death, the blaster holes in his chest still smoking lightly. No, Cal would rather stay in the ignorant darkness forever than see that again.

BD-1 beeped a question. But BD-1 wasn’t on Bracca. Cal blinked open his eyes to the dim light of the swamp filtering through the muck and grime covering the viewport. At the same time he took a deep breath, feeling the cool air scrape down the rawness in his throat. He was strapped into the jump seat, not on the floor, but he was still curled around himself as much as he could be while strapped in.

He was very glad that he hadn’t ridden in the same pod as Bode and Zee. As he came back to himself Cal felt a surge of shame well up inside his chest. It had been ten years. He’d grown up, become a knight, faced down the dark terror of the Empire and lived. And yet he couldn’t handle a simple, in-atmo ride in an escape pod.

There was a little tap on his knee, and Cal lowered his arms to look into BD’s photoreceptors. How a little droid could convey so much concern without a face was astounding, but BD had always been the most expressive droid he’d ever met. As soon as there was enough room for him BD hopped up onto his lap and nudged his boxy head against his chest. Cal reached out with a shaky hand and gently patted him, careful of his antennae.

“I’m okay, buddy,” said Cal quietly, his voice rough from screaming.

BD-1 called bantha shit with a low trill. Still he snuggled against Cal until he shooed him off to undo the seat’s restraints. When Cal got to his feet, he was unsteady in a way that had nothing to do with the escape pod shifting in the thick swampy muck. By his ankles BD beeped worriedly before using the recently vacated seat as a springboard up to Cal’s shoulders. The familiar weight was comfortable, grounding. It was as if BD was providing a counterbalance to the odd, off-kilter feeling that had settled in his limbs, as if Cal’s brain and body had become two separate entities.

Cal made his way out of the pod and out into the bog. Somehow, he had ended up right back where he started. The little island in the pool of muck. At least the pod hadn’t landed right in the middle of the swamp and been swallowed before he could get out of it. Instead it rested just a few feet from the shoreline. He was about to get dirty, but at least he wouldn’t have to comm Greez to try and airlift him out with the Mantis. He hoped that Bode and Zee had landed somewhere safe, hopefully outside of the reach of the bog or any of Koboh’s more ravenous inhabitants.

The climb up from the edge of the bog to the small hut that rested safely above the muddy waterline was not long, or particularly hard, yet Cal was both covered in mud and exhausted as he pulled himself over the dark rock. He struggled to get his feet under himself, feeling BD hop around his back to try and help him balance.

“Thanks BD,” said Cal once he finally got his bearings.

There was a concerned trill in his ear.

“Just a little tired from that last fight. It’s been a while since I was really fighting for my life against another Force user.”

Five years, to be exact. The same day as his last trip in an escape pod. Cal shuddered at the memory, but kept moving. It didn’t take all that long to reach the little hut, and when he peered inside Zygg and her new friend Wini were still there. The two of them were standing rather close together and through the Force Cal could feel the rather warm emotions from the two of them. Embarrassment almost had him turning on his heel and marching back out, but Zygg spotted him over Wini’s shoulder and gave him a wave.

“You’re back,” said Zygg.

“Yeah,” said Cal.

Behind Zygg, Wini had a slightly put-out look on her face, but she recovered remarkably quickly and followed her over to Cal.

“Did you manage to find Zee?” asked Zygg.

“We did. Bode’s taking her back to the outpost.”

Zygg smiled. “That’s good to hear.”

Her smile slowly faded as she took in Cal’s appearance. Her eyebrows drew close together in concern, but it was Wini who spoke up.

“You look terrible, and the state of your clothes… Well, you will be heading back to the Outpost to freshen up?”

Cal blinked at her, somewhat taken aback.

“Yeah, uh, eventually?” said Cal.

He would eventually go back and meet up with Bode at Rambler’s Reach. Maybe jump in the river first to get the worst of the gunk off himself.

Wini shook her head. “Are all men in the outer rim like this?”

Zygg shook her head at Wini. “What I think she’s trying to say is that whatever you did to get Zee back, it looks like it hit you like a gorocco. Want a ride back? I got a speeder that’ll keep us out of the bog and get back to town in no time.”

Cal looked down at his battle-and-bog-stained clothes and felt the exhaustion that had buried itself in his bones settling in like a weight. BD shifted on his shoulders and beeped into his ear to say that it was a good offer.

“Yeah, a ride might be nice.”

“No worries, I’ll have you back to the outpost in no time.”

“It’s true. I saw her driving here, and I have never seen a pilot so daring.”

BD-1 trilled excitement at the thought, and Cal felt like he should probably be worried. Yet as he stood in the little hut with Zygg and Wini he could feel the shakiness start to fade, replaced instead by exhaustion and an odd sort of emptiness. Maybe he was hungry. Greez could help him out with that. With that thought in mind he followed Zygg and Wini out of the hut to a battered old speeder and they set off back to Rambler’s Reach.

#jedi survivor #jedi survivor fic #jedi survivor fanfiction #oneshot #this one fought me the whole way and I'm not 100% on it #but i don't want to keep staring at it anymore #cal kestis #bode akuna #cal kestis has ptsd #thats it thats the fic #also let the rambler's reach outpost friends take care of cal as much as he takes care of them

[giuliettagaltieri]

Doctor's Order

Pairing: Surgeon!Eren x Nurse!Reader

Synopsis: You could not make your crush on Dr. Eren Jaeger any more obvious. And even though you can tolerate his usual cold demeanor, you also know when to draw the line.

Warning: Unrequited love, cursing, angst, operation procedure, mentions of blood.

Word Count: 1792

1 of 3

The operating room department of Paradis Medical Centre is never boring with you around.

Your sweet wit and jolly personality just about brighten anyone's day, except for Dr. Eren Jaeger who seems to be eternally tortured by a cause unknown to you.  He is immune to your charms, which makes you like him even more.

“I need the chart of patient Bozado.”  A deep voice speaks behind the nurses’ station.  Your back immediately straightens up and a blinding smile makes its way to your lips.

“Good morning, Doc!”  You scan through the charts until you find the one that he needs, you hand the metallic clipboard to Eren with another one of your smiles.

Your coworkers no longer bat an eye when you skip around the counter to sit next to him on a table nearby.  The man, still not acknowledging you as he scans through the patient’s chart.  Ulou Bozado, this is his third time having his tongue stitched after a severe tongue laceration, they would need to find better interventions for that man.

“Are you busy this afternoon?”  You ask sweetly, your face resting on your palms as you stare at him with your wide, expecting eyes.

“Yes.”  He says without much hesitation.

“A new café just opened in the lobby.  We should totally go.”

 Eren’s tired eyes land on you and he sighs.  “I have a conference.”

You giggle.  “The one with Doctor Smith?  It’s not until seven in the evening.”

His eyes narrowed at you, suspicious as to how you found out.

“So later then?  After our shift?”  You beam.

“What did I just tell you?”  He asks while scanning the chart again.

“Oh, come on.  Ren-”

He clicks his tongue.  “That’s Doctor Jaeger to you.”

Some of the other nurses and doctors in the station glance at you, waiting and watching how you’ll react to this.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise at his tone but a sly smile makes its way to your lips.  “As your possible wife in the near future, shouldn’t I have the right to call you by your name?”

He releases a long exasperated breath, he’s done dealing with your bullshit for today.  Eren signs an order he just wrote in the chart and slams it close, he shoves it to you and gets up to leave without sparing you a reply.

The other staff in the room go about their previous tasks as if nothing happened.  Well, this is an everyday occurrence, of course they got used to it.

“So, later then?”  You laugh while watching him retreat to the Doctors’ lounge.

“Call me when the patient’s being rolled in.  Until then, I’d like nothing but silence from you.”  And he slams the door close, making you shake your head while laughing.  He’s so fun to tease.

“You sure are playing with fire, Y/N.”  Historia comments with a slight shiver. 

You swat the air as if to dismiss her fear.  “He’s just pretending to be an apathetic asshole but he’s actually really nice.”  You put the chart back while Historia follows you around fiddling with her scrubs that are identical to yours.  “Last week, he did an operation free of charge.”

Her eyes widened.  “For that kid that was in a vehicular accident?”

Nodding, you grab your phone.  “Was just avoiding an old man who crossed the road.  Poor kid.”  You sighed.  “Anyway, what would you like me to get for you?”

She squealed.  “I forgot!  You’ll be leaving for your trip tomorrow.”

You press your fingers to her lips to silence her.  “Historia!”

“Oh.”  She stifled her giggles.  “Sorry.”

“I don’t wanna jinx this into a toxic shift.”

 She rolls her eyes playfully.  “But how bad could it be?  Two-week vacation?  Are you kidding me?” 

You laugh as you open your note app.  “Now, tell me what you want.”

As it turns out, you did jinx yourself.

The operation with patient Bozado went swiftly but then ER made a call two hours before your shift ends.  They’re bringing in a patient who was in a vehicular accident and her seatbelt just about crushed her spleen.

You almost bump into Eren on your way to the operating theater.  And he sends a sharp glare at you.

You listen to the endorsement of the ER nurse as you scrub in and drop instruments into the sterile field.  The circulating nurse is busy trying to make a call outside the theater.  They’re trying to reach the on-call surgeons but nobody’s picking up.

They have Eren here.  A highly qualified general surgeon.  Why would they contact other people?

The anesthesiologist comes in to sedate the patient as you finish preparing the instruments in a manner that Eren preferred. 

When he comes in, you notice a strained expression on his face.

“Where’s the assistant surgeon?  The interns?”  He asks.

“It’s just you today, Doc.”  The anesthesiologist says.

You hand him a towel and he dries his hands thoroughly and flings the towel to the side with much force that makes you glance at him.

“The fuck are you staring around for?”  He snaps loudly, gaining the room’s attention to you. 

You serve him the gown, apologizing profusely.  Your hands quiver when you open the gloves for him and in haste to serve it to him, your hands slip and the sterile glove drops to the floor.

“If you mess up in my theater one more time-”

“I won’t, I-I’m sorry.”  You say with your eyes turning glassy.

The circulating nurse drops a new pair of gloves in the field and you carefully offer it to Eren.  He adjusts it on his hands and he watches the patient carefully as they prep her abdomen.

“Begin initial count.”  Eren tells you.  The circulating nurse stands a few feet away from you with a clipboard and you start counting off the number of sponges, instruments, and needles.

“Excuse me, Doctor Jaeger, Doctor Pyxis, and the rest of the surgical team.  The initial counting of sponges, instruments, and needles is complete.”  You say.

“Vitals?”  He asks the anesthesiologist, Dr. Dot Pyxis.

“Stable.”  The anes responds while glancing at you and you give him a reassuring smile.  “You can start now, Doctor Jaeger.”

You quickly pull the mayo table and you stand next to Eren.

“Scalpel.”  He says without looking at you.

The blade holder clatters softly against the kidney basin and you hand it to him.  You watch him crack his neck after taking a deep breath through the mask and he presses the tip of the blade against the patient’s skin.  You quickly grab a surgical sponge.

“Sponge.” 

You put it on Eren’s waiting hand and he wipes at the blood that seeps out.

“Cautery.” 

You give it to him.

The operation continues and you watch Eren trying to locate the ruptured part of the spleen.  You glance at him when he clicks his tongue, just as a small spray of blood stains your gown. 

“Hemo-” 

But you were already passing him the hemostat.  Eren quickly clamps the vessel.

“Irrigation.”  You push the plunger of the syringe to squirt out fluid in the abdominal cavity and you carefully refill the syringe with the same sterile solution.

“Am I supposed to work blindly here?”  Eren’s voice booms as he glares at you.

You freeze and your wide eyes, now full of fear, stare back at him.

“Suction!”  He says loudly and you immediately hand him the suction tip.

He yanks it from you and you bow your head in shame.  You bite your lips hard enough that you taste tangy copper but you blink the tears away.  You refuse to cry in front of him.

The operation ends after a few more outbursts from Eren.

After the patient is rolled to the post anesthesia care unit, you linger around in the theater to clean up, and so you’ll have an excuse not to come to the station where Eren is definitely writing the report in the patient’s chart.

“What an asshole, amiright?”  the anesthesiologist drawls to you as he bounces a leg while sitting on a chair in the corner.

You only smile at him politely, refusing to confirm his words.

“He definitely shouldn’t have done that to you.”  He says more seriously now.  “Even if she was his friend.”

Your hands pause and you look at him.

“Patient Ackerman is his friend?”

He nods.  “Back in med school, or even before that.”  He stands to stretch.  “Well, I’ll be off now.  You better bring me souvenirs from that trip of yours.”

You stare off into the swinging doors, the silence of the empty theater rings on your ears.

That explains his behaviour. 

The law says that he was not supposed to operate on immediate family and friends. 

Or was it about something else.

You clean up the sterile instruments along with the orderly.  He keeps glancing at you, but you deliberately chose not to meet his eyes as you know exactly what he wanted to ask, and you refuse to be the subject of their pity.

On your way back to the nurses’ station, you take a glance inside the post anesthesia care unit or PACU as you call it.

And a single glance inside has you ashamed of your actions.

It seems like Dr. Jaeger and apparently Dr. Ackerman, not just patient Ackerman, share something deeper than friendship.

You pursued a man who is in a relationship.

Eren was slumped on the chair next to her.  His hair is disheveled and his face rests on his hands.  He looks equally distraught as he is exhausted.

The cardiac monitor beeps and he stands abruptly to see what went wrong.

He lets out a breath of relief when she stabilizes once more.

Your eyes sting with tears.  You do not understand why you are so upset with yourself.  Was it for letting him lash out on you, or was it for pining for him when he is already head over heels for someone.

You choke back your tears and head to the station.  Historia is already waiting for you.  Her eyes looked angry but she was so gentle in handing you your stuff. 

You thanked her when she gave you the procedure sheet which needed your signature. 

You sniffled and quickly cleared your throat.

“I’ll see you in two weeks.”  You smile at her.

“That’s it!”  She says loudly just before grabbing hold of your hands over the counter.  “You go enjoy that trip, you hear me?  You have to enjoy it so hard that you’ll forget that he even existed!”

The other nurses cheer and some of the other surgeons nod at you.

You glance in the direction of the PACU.

Damn right you’re gonna enjoy this trip.

Doctor's Order • Progress Notes • Care Plan

#eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #attack on titan #eren x you #doctor au eren jaeger #hospital au