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neptuneiris · 4 months

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could you pretend to be in love? (02/10)

The Contract

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: there is no turning back now and now you and Aemond set the rules and conditions to start the whole farce.

word count: 4.6k

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!🥳

I thought this would be a very nice way to wish happy new year to all of you beautiful people who support me and like what I write, you don't know how much that means to me🥺

thank you for so much support and for so much love, I have loved being here and I definitely plan to stay for longer, seeing how that love evolves and my place here as a writer🥰 so enjoy a lot this new chapter that I really hope you like it a lot❤

many blessings to all of you, my best wishes for your lives in this 2024, I love you all so much!😊❤

enjoy!

It's the first thing you see after turning off the alarm and you curiously enter to read the recent messages from an unknown number, not having the slightest idea of who it might be.

But you let out a long sigh of frustration when you read them and see that it's Aemond, who you don't understand how the fuck he got your number. Of course, it shouldn't have been hard for him, just a few questions and anyone can tell him what he wants to know.

And knowing that you have a long day ahead of you today, you already feel the pressure all over your body when you haven't even left your bed, where you also feel the frustration and all this uncertainty that you thought you had already overcome, but no.

You barely accepted yesterday and suddenly putting the plan into action from one day to the next, it's too much. But without really having a choice, you reluctantly force yourself to get up and start getting ready.

After an hour, you leave your house with the nagging feeling of carrying a weight on your shoulders to school. And all the way there, not even the music in your ears can make your mind calm down for a moment.

Knowing very soon that your whole social life will be a mess and you will no longer be invisible, since after all Aemond was right in that respect, causes you even more uneasiness and also nervousness because you are going to pretend to be the girlfriend of the most popular guy in school.

And once the bus makes its stop, you soon enter the halls of the bustling school. And knowing that a certain silver-haired guy is waiting for you right now, every heavy step you take towards the schoolyard echoes loudly in your ears, increasing your nervousness and anxiety.

You're even tempted to back up and tell him to forget it, but you resist and keep moving forward.

As you walk through the huge doors of the backyard, it's only a matter of time before you make out the figure of Aemond sitting at the same table as yesterday in the distance. Your heart skips a beat and you feel more nervous, but gathering your courage and taking a long breath, you advance towards him, ready but with uncertain steps.

Every step seems heavy, as if you are walking into the unknown and you try to hide the nerves in your gaze, especially when Aemond notices your presence. He watches you and slowly turns to you, a subtle smile on his lips.

Again there is that feeling of telling him to forget it, to find someone else, that you can't do this. But... your mind stops you and screams at you not to be silly, that at the end of it all there will be a reward, a very good reward that getting it by faking a relationship with him, is nothing.

And it's definitely worth it.

So resigned, you reach out to him.

"Hey," he says to you without wiping off his little smile, as you take a seat in front of him and he waits for you to finish settling in, "So you've come."

"Don't bother me," you tell him without humor, definitely contrasting his mood to yours.

"Now what did I do?"

"That," you point to his face, "You're enjoying this, seeing that I haven't backed out."

"Oh, please, I actually thought you wouldn't come and tell me to fuck off after you thought better of it," he justifies himself.

"Yeah? Well, nothing a free admission to your dream college won't do," you say with a slightly sarcastic tone, though implicitly admitting your reasons, "And it's actually not like I like skipping classes, so could we get this started?"

Aemond exhales long, averting his gaze from yours for a moment before returning to watching you.

"You know you'll have to be charming and act like you're completely in love with me in public, right?" he poses, expectantly.

"Yes, I know... in public," you point out to him, "Just now no one knows we're 'dating' genius," you add, underlining the falsity of the situation.

He places a small, amused, smirk on his lips.

"Yet."

He adds with a slightly defiant tone and you roll your eyes.

"Don't get too excited either."

"Are you not?"

"Oh yeah, I can't handle the excitement," you feign in a high-pitched, ironic voice, making exaggerated hand gestures.

Aemond lets out a short but genuine laugh at your gesture. He leans back slightly, his eye revealing a mischievous glint as he watches you.

"Glad to see you're keeping your sense of humor in this," he says with his tone changing slightly to a more relaxed one.

"I don't have much choice, do I?" you reply, accepting his change of mood, but still maintaining a certain emotional distance.

You figure it's just a matter of the two of you getting more into trust, and if you're going to do this with him, you're definitely going to do your part. But for now, this is still a little awkward and unexpected. And the sooner you do this, the better it will be for you.

So you shift your focus and lean forward slightly with a more serious expression on your face.

"So let's get started?"

"Well, making a contract will take up a lot of our time, so I thought it would be easier to just say and agree between us-

"It will be easier this way, to write down and establish the rules and the conditions we want to do during all this, just to have everything clear and not miss anything, Aemond," you interrupt him, taking out a notebook and a pen to start writing.

"Okay, fine," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"So?" you watch him expectantly with the blank sheet of paper in front of you and your pen in hand, "What do you suggest first?"

"Well... first we need to know when this will all end," he begins to say, adopting a relaxed but firm stance, "And I would say that it may end when it is no longer necessary for both of you to continue pretending. But I think it's a better idea for us to last until graduation."

He proposes, looking at you intently, waiting for your reaction and you can't help but be a little surprised to hear that.

"Until graduation?" you repeat and he nods, "But you really want to do this for almost five months?"

"I know it's a long time, but that time can be beneficial for both of us," he explains, "That's enough time to give our relationship credibility and authenticity and it's also enough time to handle any problems that arise."

He says and you nod cautiously, evaluating his words.

"But if you disagree, tell me," he hurries to say.

His calm tone and your reasons contrast with the uncertainty and indecision you feel. And the two of you have barely started.

Five months is such a compromising situation and it generates some concern, because you know you will face so many things you still have no idea about and every day it could become more complicated to maintain the farce.

"I guess it's okay," you cautiously admit, trying to see the big picture, "But I feel like it's still a long time. But also reducing that time might not be enough," you agree.

"Yes but I'm sure we can handle it. And don't worry, if at some point we feel it's too much or we don't have enough reason to keep pretending anymore, we can talk iand end it."

You remain pondering, considering his words and after a few seconds you nod in agreement, and write it down as the first point on the sheet. But this alone is the first piece of a much more complicated puzzle.

1. Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

And Aemond also brings up the next point of the contract, expressing his ideas with quiet but evident assurance.

"Now, second..." he begins, "As for behavior in public, we should genuinely show affection in the hallways, cafeteria, and at any school activity and event. In a relationship people don't take their hands off each other, so we should smile at each other, hug each other, make subtle gestures, hold hands-

"Don't say kissing, please," you interrupt him, pleading, taking him by surprise.

"Of course, Y/N," he tells you instantly, incredulous, "Obviously we'll have to kiss."

As if having to act completely in love with him and be every moment touching him isn't enough. But the idea of kissing seems a bit much to you.

"I agree about showing affection and all that, but that kissing thing might be awkward and... weird," you say, trying to be sincere but not seeming completely closed off to the idea.

Aemond looks at you incredulously.

"So you don't want us to kiss?"

"I don't think it's necessary, honestly."

"Are you crazy? How are we supposed to pretend if we're not going to kiss? No one's going to believe us if we don't kiss and that's what will literally make the whole relationship believable," he insists, visibly concerned.

"Yeah, I get that it might seem necessary, but...at least I don't want to be having to kiss you every single time."

"You don't want to kiss me?" he asks you, visibly surprised, confused and... maybe a little hurt?

You watch him silently for a moment not understanding his reaction and then watch him with a small amused smile.

"I'm not one of your fans, Targaryen."

"Oh come on, everyone wants to kiss me," he says confused and incredulous, proving his point.

"Even the guys?"

"Well... yeah, I don't know, maybe some of them," he says with a shrug.

"Seven Hells," you mutter, averting your gaze for a moment, "I-I really don't want to do that," you say, speaking seriously and then you let out a sigh, "But you're right that no one's going to believe us-

"Obviously. I always have," he is quick to say.

"So my proposal is this... we'll kiss, yes, but only when it's extremely necessary, and when I say extremely necessary I mean extremely necessary."

You watch him intently, keeping yourself willing with your proposal, waiting for his opinion, which judging by his face, he doesn't quite agree with.

"And what would those extremely necessary moments be exactly?" he inquires, attentive and interested, also still looking slightly worried.

"In the cafeteria or in the hallways when everyone is obviously looking at us and we're attracting attention. Just don't abuse it."

Aemond lets out a long breath.

"Well, let's limit them to extremely necessary moments," he finally says resignedly and you quickly note the second point.

2. Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

"But then that second point is also going to apply to the parties you'll be going to with me and my lacrosse games you'll be going to."

You quickly raise your gaze to him.

"What?"

"Yes," he nods, "Going to the parties together will also lend credibility to the relationship and obviously we have to be very close to each other. And it's the same in my games, you must go to support and encourage me, like any girlfriend in love with her boyfriend would."

Aemond's words provoke an instant reaction in you, that confusing you and taking you by surprise.

"But I don't go to parties."

"Now you will," he says with a calm expression, reaching out his hand and taking the pen and your notebook.

"But-

He is already writing in a section further down the sheet which he lists as; 'additional conditions'.

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

"Aemond, I'm not a big fan of parties, really," you insist, "You'll have a bad time if you take me with you and I'll probably ruin everything."

"Don't worry, I'll teach you the trick to having a good time and change that mentality you have. Besides I won't take you to every party, just a few," he assures you, "All while keeping up appearances," he hands you back your notebook and pen, "With me you'll never get bored, I promise," he says with a small smile on his lips.

You let out a sigh, placing the notebook back in front of you, still undecided.

"Yes? Well, we'll see about that. I warned you though."

He lets out a soft little laugh.

"Come on Y/N, you can't be that bad."

"I assure you I can be."

"And so what do you do for fun?" he asks you, keeping his smile, curiosity evident in his gaze.

And there it is, the question that totally describes your personality and that in fact you don't like to answer to just anyone, because then they call you boring. But you can't lie to Aemond, he is astute enough and would notice.

So you decide to be honest.

"I like to read," you reply, lowering your gaze and feeling slightly embarrassed, "And I love going to the movies or watching movies and shows at home, either one is totally fine with me. Oh... and... hm... I also like ice skating, although I don't do that as often but... it's something I like too."

And even though it's only a bit of the world of things you like, Aemond listens to you attentively with a soft expression, saying nothing afterwards, as if he's processing every word you've said, while you only feel more embarrassed by the silence.

You know there's nothing wrong with it but it always made you insecure to share your hobbies, mostly because you know that many girls your age enjoy their teenage years going out with friends to parties and getting drunk.

That didn't and doesn't appeal to you now. You have long been more comfortable with the idea of staying home or going out somewhere else instead of going to parties.

It's not as if you don't attend or avoid every social event, yes you can attend and have a good time depending on who you are with and where, but not as often as every weekend.

However, you understand and recognize the logic behind Aemond's suggestion and that is that attending parties, is essential. And just as he is about to finally speak, you do so first.

"I know they are simple things and are not very exciting for most people. I also know they can be very boring but for me... that's what I like," you shyly confess.

"Hm," he says, taking a small moment, watching you softly, only causing you even more embarrassment, "Well, that's not what I was going to say," he says, catching your attention, "Sometimes it is the simple things that mean the most to everyone and, being honest... I find them interesting," he adds, trying to evaporate any awkwardness and embarrassment you might feel.

You raise your gaze, meeting his bright blue eye watching you softly and with his gaze full of genuine understanding, along with that hint of curiosity. And that gets your attention too.

He's not judging you. And even though it's not something he would do or at least hasn't tried to do yet, he's not judging you for it and you see that genuine interest in his gaze.

"Tell you what, for every party you go to with me, I'll read one of your favorite books or a movie or shows you want me to watch," he says, picking up the notebook and pen again.

"What?" you look at him confused, unable to help but smile in bewilderment, "Are you serious?"

"You must set your own conditions too," he states as he writes, "I already dragged you into my world, so now you're dragging me into yours," he looks up at you, "What do you think? Is it a fair exchange or not?"

His proposal takes you by surprise and also confuses you a little, however, the small smile remains on your face.

The genuine expression of openness on his face and the determination with which he wrote definitely makes you feel more comfortable. His willingness to immerse himself in your interests was not something you had agreed upon from the beginning, nor is it something extremely necessary to fake a relationship.

But it's for the simple reason that you both feel comfortable if you're going to pretend for almost five months and it seems like a nice gesture from him to include it, something you honestly didn't expect from him.

And when he gives you back your notebook, you see the new rule under 'additional conditions'.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

"Yes," you nod, "Sounds like a fair deal to me."

Aemond smiles, pleased with your answer and also seeing the expression on your face.

"Great. We'll see if I discover something new I like. And you too..." he points at you with his index finger, "You won't regret it after you have a great time at my parties," he says enthusiastically, with a sort of complicity in his tone.

"Well, we'll see if you manage to impress me."

And right there, the two of you exchange complicit glances, Aemond having that little smile on his lips while you don't understand this strange new alliance the two of you are building.

But even though you didn't expect it, it's definitely to your liking.

"Now, third..." you point to the notebook with your pen, "Reinforcing the second rule, public appearance," you say, observing him, "We must act as a committed and attentive couple to each other at school and to these parties you want us to go to."

Aemond nods determinedly, thoughtfully.

"Yes, commitment at all times," he states seriously.

"So, that also means that neither of us can be with other people for the duration of all this, not even secretly," you add, making the point clear.

"And you want to write that as a rule too? It's obvious that neither of us should-

"I'll write it as the fourth rule, just to be clear about everything as I told you."

"Oh, fine."

3. Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

4. No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

"Oh and also..." says Aemond, reminding, "Since we're at that point, on additional conditions write that we should both upload photos and videos together on our social media. It's another way to lend credibility to our relationship."

"Photos and videos together on our social media," you repeat, looking at the notebook.

And this catches Aemond's attention.

"Don't tell me you don't use your social media," he says beginning to sound alert and concerned.

"No, no, I-I mean, yes," you hasten to say, "It's just... I don't know, I most likely don't use them as often as you do, besided I have very few followers."

"Don't worry, whatever followers you have are fine. Besides, I'm sure they'll increase when I upload my first photo with you."

You roll your eyes with an amused smile.

"Okay, Mr. Popularity."

"And speaking of that, hand me your Instagram and all your networks," he says instantly, grabbing his cell phone from his front pocket, "We better have that all figured out now."

Obviously Aemond's accounts had to be public while you maintain your privacy, with barely thirteen hundred followers while he has almost the entire school following him and probably from other schools as well.

In fact, your numbers compared to his are embarrassing. But you never really had the interest of having more followers on Instagram or more friends on Facebook, Snapchat is the same and apparently that doesn't matter to Aemond.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

"And well, I also think another very important thing is to maintain privacy," you suggest, lifting your gaze to watch him and Aemond gives you a confused look.

"Do you really want to write that down too? It's obvious we can't tell anyone-

"Let me enjoy this, Aemond. It's actually fun and I want to write it all down. So act serious," you ask.

He lets out a choked laugh.

"Well, yes, we must be discreet, no one must know that all this is false, only we know the truth and we must keep it that way," he says and you excitedly write it down.

"We mustn't involve our families in this either," you add, watching him intently, "But that will be difficult because your siblings are here," you grimace.

"We can keep up the farse with them for a while too, I'll convince them not to say anything to my mother or the rest of my family. And once everyone here at school is convinced enough, I'll tell the truth only to them," he say sure and confident, solving the problem.

"And you're sure you'll manage to keep them that way?"

"Yeah," he says with a shrug, "They're my siblings. I know how it works with each one."

5. Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot..." Aemond says as he points to what is already written, "You must also go on each year's trip to Dragonstone with me. That's another additional condition of mine."

"What?" you inquire again, surprised and confused.

"Yes, the trip to Dragonstone," he affirms.

Oh God, the trip to Dragonstone.

Dragonstone is an island not far from King's Landing, where there is an ancient castle with a lot of history but has been modernized with the same name and is open to every visitor.

The school makes an annual trip for educational purposes as the castle has relics and structuring from thousands of years ago. You have seen pictures and videos where everything looks really beautiful, ancestral and almost royalty.

In addition the castle offers other activities, such as rides on its huge luxury yachts, surfing, diving and swimming lessons.

You always had the spirit to go but have always known that the trip is anything but educational. You've heard stories that happen with the students, such as getting drunk, partying on the yachts, hot tubs and obviously you've heard stories of who slept with whom.

Even the most reserved get to have fun and it's not something you're interested in. You know you don't fit in that environment, especially since everyone has to share a room and you're sure that if you go, you'll have to share a room with girls with different tastes and perspectives than yours. They probably won't even let you sleep.

"Come on Y/N, you've never been to Dragonstone?" asks Aemond incredulously, noting the grimace on your face for wanting you to go there with him.

"Well, yeah I've wanted to go but... I-I, I don't know, I've heard that instead of learning about the place, everyone goes to having fun, they party, they get drunk and I-I don't...

"And what do you expect us to do in a modern castle on the shore of the beach with yachts and hot tubs?" he inquires again, expectantly, "The trip is planned for the middle of the last month of these five months and you can't let me go alone with the things that go on in that place."

You make your grimace more visible, revealing your clear indecision. And even though you and Aemond have been at odds lately over the matter of tastes, he still places a soft smile in your direction, understanding that you are not like him and prefer to do other things.

"Look, you don't have to go to the parties and drink if you don't want to," he starts to tell you, "But we can at least go to one of the parties on the yachts and then do the activities they offer on site, swimming, diving and all that," he proposes, "We'll take pictures, tour the castle and we'll both be equally satisfied."

You ponder for a moment, considering his proposal. You know you only have to get your father's signature on the permit to be able to go to the island and it's not like you've gone before so... you can do it now.

"Well, I guess that's fine," you nod, "But really promise you won't leave me alone and we'll take the time to do other activities that aren't related to partying on yachts and hot tubs."

"Please, we'll go as a couple, so of course I won't leave you alone. You'll be stuck with me," he assures you, "And I also promise you that we'll do other activities, not just the parties."

"And..." you start to say, in a serious, warning tone, "Also promise you'll pick me up every morning to bring me to school. That's another one of my additional conditions. The bus isn't very comfortable anymore."

He nods, shrugging, completely unconcerned.

"Sure, it's no problem. Besides it will make the relationship more credible," he says softly.

Despite your doubts, you feel a sense of relief at seeing and acknowledging his commitment. And you also feel more confident knowing that you have his support in all of this, even in your conditions. So you write down the two new additional conditions.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

At the end you both sign the sheet, looking honestly ridiculous but being funny, then both seal the whole contract by shaking hands.

"So when do we start all this?" you ask him, putting away your notebook and pen.

"I say tomorrow," he gives you a look of understanding, "But we need to talk now during classes in the hallways or in the cafeteria, so that when they see us together tomorrow, it won't be so surprising and will seem more believable."

You give him an unsure look.

"I think it will still be very surprising, Aemond."

"It doesn't matter, we just have to start showing together today, just talking. But tomorrow is when we really start."

And just as he says those words, with that determination, you feel again those nerves in your lower abdomen and that insecurity. But at least you still have all day today to mentally prepare yourself, and you're grateful for that.

"And before I forget this too..." he says again, "I need you to send me all your academic information to work on your college application now," he tells you seriously and you watch him completely attentively, "The five months will go by fast and during that time college applications will start. So it's best to get it all in now."

At this, you feel your heart start to beat fast and you don't know why, you guess because it's a very important issue for you. And more than anything else it's the reason you agreed to do this with him.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," you say softly, "I-I'll email it all to you."

He smiles softly in your direction.

"Very well," he nods at you, "I'll text you my email."

Despite your slight doubts about whatever is going to happen next, the idea of starting a fake relationship leaving you with a knot in your stomach and feeling your emotions mixed, you know this will all be worth a try.

So you pick up your phone and you start to write in an email all your personal and academic information. While at the same time all is said and done and the fake relationship contract is over.

THE CONTRACT

Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

ADDITIONAL CONDITIONS

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

general taglist

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff

#aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x y/n #modern aemond #modern hotd

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wndaswife · 1 year

Text

centre of attention | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Ex-wife of a church preacher and a member of a popular parent-teacher group, Wanda Maximoff is one of the town’s most infamous figures, but you soon learn that she is much more than she seems.

Word count: 13 783

Tags: smut, fluff, age gap, jealousy, allusions to slut-shaming, mentions of a gangbang, brief cunnilingus, strap-ons, fingering, brief masturbation, hair-pulling, spanking, degradation, mommy kink, power bottom!wanda maximoff. MINORS DNI.

gif credit to vanessacarlylse

Pitchy hums of singing cicadas greeted you the moment you drove into the small northern Californian town you were to spend the next few months in.

None of it was really ideal for you’d wanted to land a placement as a teacher’s assistant at least somewhere in southern California as you’d lived in Los Angeles your whole life. But the moment you drove further into the town and saw groups of families walking hand-in-hand down the surprisingly-lively streets and children retiring towards their bus stops after their days at school, you knew your stay wouldn’t be as dull as you imagined.

The only thing that gave you pause was passing by the town’s local and only church that was as bustling with people as the schoolyard was.

What you could already tell was that the townspeople were certainly close-knit, valued their communities, and were a rather religious group of people.

In worrying about your interactions with the town’s church, you hadn’t meant to be crass, but rather sincerely concerned for the possibility that you might truly have found yourself stuck in a strictly old-fashioned and highly religious town hours away from Los Angeles for the next several months.

When you met with your assigned teacher and principal of the schoolhouse to go over some extra paperwork upon your arrival the next day, you met Agatha Harkness, a woman you immediately pinned as the town gossip. She was the vice-principal of the elementary school and she was quick and very kind to go over what you needed to know about the town you now resided in — which ended up being everything she knew from secret divorces to scandalous affairs.

Honestly, you were grateful for her warm welcome, even if the way you secretly mused at all of Agatha’s gossip would certainly be interpreted as rather unseemly for such a new resident of the town.

On Saturdays, the church held breakfasts after early-morning mass for there was also a specially-run youth program that was managed by the church every week on the same day. Eager to introduce you to some of the town’s families, some of whom were involved in the school’s particularly active parent-teacher group at school, Agatha took you to the breakfast.

As you expected, the spacious church basement where the breakfast was taking place was bustling. Families that crowded the buffet tables were dressed in their formal church attire, mothers with their hair done and husbands well-coiffed, and children in clothing that looked proper for the occasion though they were most definitely forced into them.

“Oh, there’s Monica,” Agatha told you before calling the bright-faced woman over.

She greeted the vice-principal then turned to you and stuck out her hand with a large grin. “Hey there,” she beamed.

“Hi,” you answered with a nervous smile, slightly intimidated by the crowd and in stunned admiration of the charming woman in front of you. You shook her hand.

“Monica is likely the greatest science teacher one could ever have the pleasure of meeting in all of northern California,” Agatha said with confident sincerity.

The cheery brunette waved her hand at her dismissively. “Oh, please, Agatha,” she uttered bashfully. Then she turned to you with a smile. “Are you new to the church?”

“I just started my placement as a teacher’s assistant here for my teaching degree in LA,” you said.

With raised eyebrows and an intrigued nod, Monica replied and crossed her arms as if impressed, “Is that so? It’s been a good while since we’ve had visitors come up here, especially from the Valley.”

You’d been living in Los Angeles for so long that you hadn’t ever really considered how renowned it was in the more rural areas of California; even Agatha had been surprised when you’d told her where you were coming in from.

“I don’t mean to hold you up,” Monica told you. “Help yourself to any of the food.” She exchanged a few words with Agatha before you were led further into the large room, and for the next forty minutes you stood by Agatha’s side eating and being introduced to the local families.

To your dismay, Agatha excused herself for a moment to greet what looked like a family who’d just entered the dining hall. You were forced to stand alone by one of the tables, busying yourself by looking around and playing with the hem of your shirt in a desperate attempt not to look awkward or out of place.

When two young boys and their father approached the table you were leaning against, you quickly straightened and stepped back to allow them to pull out the chairs.

You saw Agatha reapproaching when you turned around, but she was walking back with a woman you hadn’t yet met. She looked a few years younger than Agatha, but still older than you. Her hair was wrapped in a neat French twist, blonde strands that’d become loose from the hairstyle curling lightly around her face.

With her perfect done-up hair, the dark brown lip colour, a pair of black flats, and a dark green blouse tucked into black high-waisted straight-legged pants, she was a bit hard to take your eyes away from.

Thankfully, she didn’t seem to notice what an obsessive idiot you must’ve looked like for she was busy balancing a few platefuls of food as she approached the table behind you with Agatha. She set the plates down for the young boys and the man you saw earlier, and you then realised that they were a family.

“This is Y/N — who I was telling you about just a moment ago,” Agatha brought you into the conversation then stepped to your side, wrapping a supportive arm around your shoulders.

The other woman she was with carefully placed the plates of food in front of who you supposed was her husband and children then straightened to look at you. She brushed the strands of her hair out of her face and smiled at you after taking a breath.

“Wanda,” she introduced herself then extended her hand to you with a warm smile.

“Hi,” you replied then shook her hand. “Y/N.” You kicked yourself internally for bringing your name up again when you recalled that Agatha had just mentioned it.

Wanda nodded then ran her palms down her hips. “So I’ve heard,” she said, a tinge of gaiety in her tone as her smile widened. “Are you starting your assistant position at the school on Monday?”

You nodded and attempted to return her smile though you were a little overwhelmed by the crowds of families you were currently standing in the middle of. Wanda caught onto the bashfulness of your tiny awkward smile and thought it was endearing.

“Well, don’t you worry. I think you’ll fit right in,” she reassured, the unbroken eye contact making you take a deep breath that you hoped wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

Before you could answer, one of Wanda’s young sons tugged at his mother’s blouse and asked in an adorably mousy voice, “Momma, can I please get a ginger ale?”

“Of course, moya zvezda. But just a little,” she answered, reaching down to stroke her son’s chin with her fingers. Then she looked back up at you with a warm smile. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N.”

You straightened and hoped you were only imagining the way you felt yourself blushing at her undivided attention. “L-Likewise, Mrs Maximoff,” you managed to say.

It was just over a week until you saw Wanda Maximoff again, much to your disappointment.

During the first week of your placement, you learned a whole lot of things. Firstly, dull heaps of information that you hadn’t said was anything but wholly interesting when the baker by your new place dumped years and years worth of the small town’s history on you when you were purchasing a loaf of rye bread, then more gossip shared with you from the teachers’ staff, suggestions for where the best hiking trails were around town which you happily utilised, and most importantly that there was a parent-teacher association that volunteered twice a week at the school.

At first that last bit seemed unimportant until you were given a sheet of the association’s members so you could familiarise yourself with them as you’d be seeing much of them throughout your time there, one of which was a familiar ‘Wanda Maximoff.’

Out of all the gossip Agatha had told you since you arrived, the resident she talked the least about was the one you were the most interested in. You supposed it was because they were close friends, and it would make sense that certain things about someone’s life — including their friends — were naturally private, even if not consciously.

But you didn’t think Agatha would mind if you asked about her, so you subtly brought her up while you were helping her clean up some of her things after school, a habit you picked up after the first time when you planned to go out for coffee together after work.

With the sheet of the members’ names in your hand, you asked Agatha as discreetly as you could, “Is, um, this the same Wanda I met on Saturday? At the breakfast?”

“Only one Wanda in this town, bumblebee,” Agatha replied and hung her purse from her shoulder. It was obvious she held her to a high regard, and that the two women were good friends. “Why do you ask?”

Continuing on with your goal to know more about Wanda, you answered, “I was just curious. I don’t know a lot about her compared to everyone else.”

“You’d like to know more?” she asked then led you out of her office, locking the door behind her. As the two of you walked out of school, she offered, “What would you like to know about her?”

The opportunity made you feel a little giddy as you recalled the image of Wanda when you met her earlier that week and thought of all the things you had been curious about since then. But you didn’t want to come off as obsessive or like you’d been thinking about her as much as you had, so instead you simply asked, “Were those her kids? The two young boys?”

Agatha nodded. “Tommy and Billy. They’re the sweetest four-year-old angels.”

The two of you approached her car and slid into your respective sides — Agatha in front of the wheel and you in the passenger’s seat.

“And that was her… husband with them?” you asked, buckling yourself in then tucking your hands under your knees.

“Her ex-husband,” Agatha corrected and started the car. “I don’t know if you’ve been to any of the masses, but Vision’s the church’s favourite preacher, so you’d see a lot of him if you attended regularly.”

So she wasn’t married.

You recalled calling her ‘Mrs Maximoff’ the last time you saw her and you shrunk a little in your seat in embarrassment.

While you tried to imagine Wanda marrying and divorcing a church preacher, not that you knew much about her to begin with to have anything to imagine, Agatha added, “The divorce was, you know, as scandalous as you’d expect in a small town like this, especially given how important the church is here and that both Wanda and Vision are such well-known residents.”

That was the first time anyone had mentioned any sort of distaste for how traditional the town seemed to be and it felt like your first breath of relief, for you’d felt so different from the crowd here since you arrived.

The weight from your shoulders was lessened exponentially when she also said, “But this town is full of younger families of a different generation, and there were more who offered their support than not.

“Although age isn’t entirely indicative of beliefs, so there are still a few younger parents both in the congregation and the parent-teacher association who harbour some distaste towards Wanda and her personal life.”

Up until now, you hadn’t said very much besides uttering a few hums of affirmation and acknowledgement.

“You alright over there, sweetie?” Agatha asked after not hearing your voice for a while. She looked over to you.

You nodded. “I’m okay. Just listening,” you told her with a reassuring smile.

She looked back to the road. “If you want to know more about her, I could give you her number and you could send her a message.”

A fervent blush formed on your face and you looked through the window to avert your face from Agatha. Something about being given Wanda’s number from someone else because they’d known you wanted to talk more with her made you feel awkward. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I’m sure I’ll… probably see her again.”

God, you felt like an idiot.

No matter what you said, it felt like it was only becoming more glaringly obvious how much Wanda was on your mind. And with the two women being close friends, you could only imagine the things Agatha would tell her about how you were acting like a giddy little schoolgirl thinking about her.

That was sort of what you felt like, anyways.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell her we talked about her,” Agatha reassured and winked at you. “I know you’re a shy one.”

You were grateful for that, but still pretty embarrassed.

Dottie was the first PTA member you had a real conversation with. It was on a Tuesday, and you were walking your class of twenty fourth-graders to the church alongside their teacher — you were assigned to assist Bruce Banner, an awkward but brilliant science teacher you came to enjoy the comfortable company of. A few times a month, students attended mass with enough time for the service before school ended, after which their parents would pick them up in front of the church.

You ended up sitting beside a blonde woman who immediately started a conversation with you when she recognised your face from the breakfast last week. After introducing yourself and mentioning a few of the people you’d met so far, Dottie seemed to perk up at the sound of Wanda’s name.

“Oh, that woman is trouble, Y/N,” she warned, her voice low as the two of you were still surrounded by churchgoers patiently waiting for the mass to start.

Though you were well-aware of the things Agatha told you about Wanda and how she’d been interpreted by some people in town, you were curious to know pretty much anything about her.

So you asked, “Why?”

Dottie turned her head to you so her chin was brushing her shoulder as she kept herself quiet when she said, “What kind of woman divorces a church preacher of her ex-husband’s regard?” She said it with a kind of humour and a small disbelieving scoff. “It just isn’t proper, especially not for a woman with children.”

Suddenly you felt pretty regretful for being so desperate to know things about Wanda, because now you were feeling rather offended and uncomfortable hearing the things Dottie was telling you, even if what she was saying wasn’t at all about you.

As if it couldn’t get worse, Dottie ducked her head and looked at you, uttering, “Have you caught word of her little… expeditions once she got her divorce finalised?”

You bit down along the side of your tongue with your molars and looked up at the altar, silently hoping that the mass would soon start, but the church chatter between students only continued as the congregation waited for the priest to step onto the podium.

“It was all rather hush-hush because of her…” Dottie trailed off with a disapproving shake of her head, seemingly feeling some contempt simply speaking of any form of esteem for Wanda. But she continued after readjusting herself on the pew, “Because of her standing in town.”

She quickly regained her confidence when she picked up her badmouthing of Wanda again. “Allegedly,” she said with a sly grin and a demeaning chuckle, “Wanda broke out into some sort of midlife crisis and had an affair with four younger men. Four men, one of her, one measly hotel room. I mean, we’re both adults here — you do the math.”

You stuttered out an awkward hum and turned your body subtly, making sure no one around was paying attention to your conversation. No one was. It seemed to you that Dottie’s words were a lot louder than they were due to their subject matter.

“Well… Wasn’t she divorced by then?” you asked.

Dottie laughed and waved her hand. “That’s as good as an affair, honey. Marriage is for life.”

Then she placed a supportive hand on your knee that sent shivers up your arms before advising, “Besides, it’s good you know early which people to befriend and which to avoid, and Wanda Maximoff is nothing but trouble, junebug.”

Though the general consensus was that everyone liked her if not admired her, there were rumours of similar concerns about Wanda as she seemed to be much less of a conservative woman compared to the rest of the town. It wasn’t necessarily that every resident was a traditionalist, but that even those second to Wanda’s independence from the constricting life of an upper middle-class suburban housewife simply lacked the confidence only she seemed to have in choosing to live a life by her own freedoms and little else.

The rumour Dottie had told you was entirely true aside from the missing detail that her expedition — as she had put it — with the younger men could be accurately construed as a gangbang instead of an orgy or any form of tame sex. But Wanda was so cherished by her community that one would become instantly disliked if their suspicions of her scandalous life reflected in the way they came about interacting with her.

Some were shocked and almost insulted that anyone could take such accusations about the most warm and charismatic woman in town so seriously, and others lacking in the confidence to outright say there was nothing wrong with a sexually-adventurous woman but nontraditionalists nonetheless would come to her defence albeit in slightly ambiguous ways.

Moreover, the men she’d fucked were so proud of their performances and achievements in sleeping with her that the most they did to indicate what had happened between them was walk with their chests out and chins tipped up in public, feeling proud of the accomplished little secrets they had with her. Sharing dirty secrets with a woman like Wanda, and keeping them secret, amounted to a lot more pride received than repeating what had happened in the shared hotel room that afternoon.

The mass was painfully dull and all you’d been able to think of the last few days was Wanda, and that afternoon was no exception. Your thoughts of her only intensified after your conversation with Dottie and to make matters worse, at one point when you looked around at the pews, you spotted that very woman on your mind sitting between her two sons at one of the seats lined up horizontally in front of one of the side staircases leading up to the altar.

With Dottie’s words still echoing in your mind, your thoughts then wandered to Wanda being fucked by a group of younger men, cum adorining whatever gorgeous body you knew she had under all her conservative clothing, fingers wrapped around erect cocks while she took another one down her throat and another fucking her ass, fingers pumping in and out of her wet pussy.

You felt terrible for having your mind travel there, so you looked away from her and readjusted yourself in your seat. But from the corner of your eye you noticed her tuck her hair behind her ear and fix the collar on one of her sons’ blouses. She caught your attention again.

By then it was hard to stop thinking about her, especially when you watched her whisper an inaudible forewarning to her other son that was getting particularly squirmy in his seat. You watched the parting and movement of her lips and you couldn’t help the way you imagined how she’d look with her lips wrapped around a strap fucking its way into her throat, your fingers buried in her soft hair.

Then you imagined unbuttoning her jeans and revealing her smooth legs, pulling her shirt off and uncovering perfect tits that made you shift uncomfortably when you envisioned burying your face in them and kissing up the soft swells, making Wanda moan and grip at your shoulders while your other hand groped one of her breasts.

When you began imagining the view of her sore red ass while you fucked her from behind — her head thrown back as she cried out in long groans and whimpers, her cunt constricting around your thick cock — you forced your thoughts to come to a full stop.

You felt like an awful person thinking such things anyways, for it somehow felt like you were taking advantage of her. Trying to pretend like Wanda wasn’t on your mind was practically impossible, so you just decided to focus on something else.

Wanda was wearing a cozy-looking brown knit pullover. From the angle of your spot on the pews, you could see she was wearing a pair of jeans and butterscotch ankle boots. She had her hair combed neatly and tucked behind her ears and with it let down this time, you could see that its length reached just above her shoulders.

For the most part, she paid attention to the sermons with a still expression unless she was tending to her sons’ squirming and playful whispers, a testament to the impatience of young children.

When another man stepped up to the microphone after the priest stepped down and took a seat, Dottie leaned to the side and whispered, “Wanda’s ex-husband.”

Your attention was suddenly piqued and you looked up at the man. He was slender and tall and had blonde brushed-back wavy hair that swooped around his clean-shaven face. He had a pair of aviator glasses perched on his straight and jutted nose, and he was dressed in a beige blazer, navy blue slacks, a knit vest that was a few shades darker, and underneath, a grey blouse with an orange tie.

By all accounts, he was a pretty decent-looking guy.

His smooth and animated tone of voice that emanated through the church as he read a parable from a small leather-bound notebook made it clear that he was passionate about the church and his position there, and with his appearance that made him seem friendly and introspective, it was no wonder why Agatha had told you he was the church’s most popular preacher.

Wanda’s expression was ever-still and indifferent with no indication that she harboured any remaining emotional sentiments towards seeing her ex-husband in public nor any hint of being bitter towards him.

The service finally came to an end and it was then time to help the class line up by the church parking lot to have their parents pick them up.

When you stood up, you looked for Wanda but lost sight of her in the crowds of people filing out of the church. So you said your goodbyes to Dottie and led the class out of the building and towards the parking lot with their teacher.

It was about thirty minutes later waiting by the church’s front doors when only three students remained to be picked up. One of the students’ mothers were engaged in conversation with Bruce, the remaining children were talking amongst themselves, and you were standing by the side, just waiting for the rest of them to get picked up so you could walk back to school with Banner.

“Fancy seeing you here, stranger,” a voice spoke behind you. You turned to see Wanda smiling widely at you as she approached. She stopped in front of you and leaned her shoulder against the brick wall of the church.

You smiled, feeling happy to see her. She really was charming, and so warm. “Hi,” you said. “Were you here for the service?”

Bruce glanced at you from the corner of his eye as he continued to talk with one of the students’ parents. He was glad you were getting along with people in town so well, and felt a little impressed that you seemed to be so friendly with Wanda so early into your stay. He was a shy and rather soft-spoken man, and the most he’d ever outwardly expressed his thoughts about Wanda was in the privacy of his wife's company. He had friendly feelings towards the renowned preacher’s ex-wife, and if the town had to be divided into groups, he’d certainly be categorised as a nontraditionalist.

Wanda replied, “Tommy and Billy’s father had a scripture reading today and he has them for the rest of the week, so I picked them up early after lunch to spend some time with them. I just said goodbye to them a few minutes ago.”

“About that…” you said and curled a lock of your hair between your fingers nervously. “I didn’t know you weren’t married last time we talked, and I shouldn’t have assumed…”

She ran her hand down your forearm, the one that was lifted so you could play with your hair. Her hand was so close to your face, and you caught a whiff of her perfume. “Oh, don’t worry about it, honey,” she reassured. “I completely understand, and you didn’t offend me.”

Wanda squeezed your forearm gently before her hand returned to her side. She straightened away from the wall and tucked her hair behind both ears. “Anyway, I saw you a bit ago and wanted to come up earlier, but I caught up chatting. I’m glad I could catch you.”

You fiddled with your fingers and perked up a little. “R… Really?”

Wanda hummed in what was either confirmation or amusement from your nervous response. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over for coffee,” she offered. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot since we met on Saturday, and I’d love to get to know you more.”

“Today? Now?” you asked.

“If that works for you.”

“It does,” you told her cheerily.

She nodded with a wide smile. “Alright then, great. I can wait until you’re done here.”

Bruce, as if partially-listening into the whole conversation, turned and told you, “You can leave early if you want, Y/N. Just waiting on two more students here, so it’s no big deal.”

You asked, “Are you sure?”

He reassured you it would be fine, and you soon found yourself walking through the church parking lot to Wanda’s car.

Since Agatha picked you up from home that morning, Wanda only had to stop at school so you could get your things from the classroom before the both of you were on your way back to her house.

Wanda’s house was just off the edge of town, surrounded by farmland. In spite of that, her house was rather modern and of contemporary architecture. A white-picket fence extended down the grove of trees that surrounded the long gravel driveway. From afar where her expansive backyard was visible, you could see a sizable in-ground pool and what looked like a tennis court beyond that. She parked her car in front of the dual parking garage and you looked through the car window at her house.

When the two of you stepped onto her porch, Wanda told you, “The property used to be mine and Vision’s, but after we divorced I kept it for myself and he moved into town.”

“It’s a really nice place,” you complimented as you followed her lead, placing your shoes by the door and setting your things down on the table in the foyer.

“Thank you,” she said, looking over her shoulder at you. “I’ll make us some coffee and I can give you a tour?”

You nodded and Wanda smiled at your leniency. She had you sit at the kitchen island counter while she made coffee with a pretty-looking French Press.

“So, darling, how are you liking it here so far?” she asked, setting up two mugs by the steeping coffee. She turned and leaned back against the counter, her hands resting against the edge.

“I’ve really been enjoying myself,” you replied, sitting up in your chair.

Wanda appreciated your almost innocent enthusiasm as she regarded you with a smile. Then after a second, seemingly momentarily distracted by whatever was running through her mind as she stared at you, she inquired, “Have you made friends with anyone yet?”

“I talk to Agatha a lot, but this is my first time seeing anyone out of work or anything like that.”

There was a glint of pride in her smile when you said that as if she felt satisfied that she was the first person you were truly getting close with. It was almost territorial.

She turned back to the coffee once it finished steeping and you watched as she slowly pressed the top of it down, separating the grinds from the coffee. She poured it into both cups and discarded the grinds and rinsed out the press as the drinks took a moment to cool.

“How do you take your coffee, sweetheart?” Wanda asked. It made you feel sorta giddy when she used those kinds of names on you. She then placed the mug in front of you when she made it how you liked it.

As promised, she gave you a tour of the house which ended up feeling more like a casual stroll as you were outside with her more than not, walking the expanses of the tree groves out by the gardens and through her sizable backyard together.

You were largely an occasionally-stuttering and slightly-embarrassing mess with Wanda, but she didn’t seem to mind at all and led most of the conversation with you. In fact, she found your shy demeanour rather attractive, and she was delighted every time she caught you blushing or stumbling over your words.

Talking with her was so simple in spite of how awkward you felt, and if you didn’t have anything to say, it was just as easy to listen while she did the talking. She was different from other people you’d met thus far, because she was bold and not at all shy about being honest. She was adept in balancing the weight of being a single mother to two children while also being a leading figure in both the church community and in the school’s parent-teacher association. But she was also radiant and warm, and most especially, a huge tease.

When the topic of her divorce came up, Wanda made a joke about how her sex life with Vision was dull and how she’d been indulging in leaving her husband to get properly fucked months before the divorce papers were ever served, and though she did promptly say she was joking, you had an inkling that she was being at least partially honest. She made no further effort to convince you that she was simply jesting.

She then told you more seriously that her marriage with Vision had simply become less passionate over the years and that they confessed to each other that neither of them would feel particularly anguished if they ended up divorcing, which was reason enough without their other existing troubles. Essentially, their divorce was amicable and they still worked well enough together in order to raise their children.

Additionally, Wanda confirmed your impressions of her ex-husband from the service earlier, that he was the sensitive type who was reflective and intelligent. She told you she was impressed by how proficient you were in reading people.

The compliment flattered you, but you were secretly a bit insecure as you thought about her and Vision’s marriage. You knew fully well that they were divorced, but you couldn’t help comparing yourself to him and wondering if Wanda had a type — more precisely, if you were her type.

Another thing that you distinctly enjoyed about Wanda was that she was a very physical person. When she thought something was funny, she laughed in a rich way that crinkled the corners of her eyes and pulled her lips back into the prettiest of smiles. She touched you when she felt like it, without hesitation, running her hand down your arm or squeezing your shoulder. She was expressive with her body language and facial expressions and never made you feel for a moment that she was doing anything else but listening with undivided attention when you were speaking. She wasn’t very much withdrawn at all; she was a very sociable and confident woman.

“And you, Y/N?” she asked, placing both mugs, empty of coffee, into the sink once the two of you made it back into the kitchen.

Wanda turned to you and leaned forward against the island counter you had sat back down at. Her hips were pressed against the edge of it and her forearms rested against the countertop, her hands folded in front of her. Her sleeves were pushed up to her elbows from earlier when the two of you had been walking out under the sun for a while.

You stuttered under her focused gaze, “M-Me? What about me?”

“Do you have a special someone?” she asked with a teasing little grin, resting her chin in her palm and looking straight at you.

Discussing the topic of your love life with Wanda made you feel flustered and you looked away from her, fiddling with your fingers and looking down at your thumbs. “No, I don’t,” you answered.

“But you have someone in mind?” Wanda playfully pressed, raising her eyebrows at you curiously.

You looked back up and told her honestly, “Not really.” You attempted to be more honest with her given that she’d been so open and warm with you. “I haven’t had much of a chance to meet anyone.”

She straightened and ran her hands flat down against the counter. “Oh?” she questioned. “But you’re such a sweet girl.” Wanda rounded the island counter until she was standing behind you and laid her hands on your shoulders. “I figured that you would’ve had boys all over you, honey,” she whispered.

You knew she was teasing, or at least that was what you kept telling yourself when you found yourself slightly overwhelmed and rather overheated with Wanda’s hands on your shoulders, her thumbs slowly sliding up the sides of your neck.

“I’m just poking fun at you, sweetness,” Wanda giggled and squeezed your shoulder before stepping away from you. She walked out of the kitchen momentarily and came back with her purse. She laid it down on the counter and pulled her phone out.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I let the time get away from me,” she apologised. “I have to meet Vision and the kids for dinner in about an hour.”

To avoid thinking of Wanda getting all ready and dressed-up to see Vision, although it was for a dinner with Tommy and Billy, you stood up from your seat and answered, “It’s no problem at all. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you more. And the coffee was really great. Thank you.”

Wanda led you to the door, a gentle hand on your lower back. “I’d love to have you over again,” she told you. Her hand slid up your back, making you straighten immediately before she took her hand away from you to unlock the front door.

Though you looked away to hide the way your cheeks flushed at the contact, Wanda caught sight of your embarrassed expression and felt a flurry of adoration for you.

After saying goodbye to each other, Wanda called you back before you could step off her porch. “Would you be able to put your number in my phone?” she asked, holding her cellphone out to you.

Sounding a little too excited, you walked back over to her and answered, “Sure!”

For the next little while since you exchanged numbers that late afternoon, you’d had a few conversations with Wanda over text message. She was a busy woman though; she was always the most free to talk in the evening or rather early in the morning when you weren’t often awake.

You talked a lot about Tommy and Billy, your assistant position and how you’d been finding things, what Wanda did on a day-to-day basis, and a few other leisurely things when you both had time to discuss things like recent movies and favourite books.

It was incredible what Wanda took on in a day. Sometimes she was organising the youth church events or in meetings with the parent-teacher association — during which you sometimes passed the meeting rooms they were in, but never got the chance to see her because they were always so busy.

She went out of town a few days a week for any sports or clubs either of her sons were in outside of school as there wasn’t much availability regarding extracurriculars in town, which was also something she’d been trying to bring up to the municipality.

If she didn’t have to tend to the PTA, the church, or her sons, she had errands. She was always doing something from dropping something off at someone’s place to picking something up, going out of town to get something fixed, or doing one thing or another for someone else.

She always apologised for it as she’d told you that she wished she had more time to talk with you or at least be able to make a plan to get lunch together.

Though you also desperately wished to see her again, you didn’t mind at all. In a way, you really admired her drive and how capable she was, and how readily available she was to those who needed her while also being the most friendly and warm woman in town.

Plans to see each other again either fell through or never had the chance to be made for the both of you were beginning to have busier schedules.

Wanda was virtually always busy, but for you, since the season had begun to reach some of its warmest temperatures, there were more school events being organised from field trips to sports’ days which took up a majority of your time as you planned with Banner both during and out of class.

The next time you saw Wanda in person was on a Thursday, nearly three weeks since you had coffee with her. But in spite of that, you felt a lot more excited than the last time, for you now had three more week’s worth of having been able to get to know her. In fact, you were almost certain Wanda considered you a friend.

She was friendly with a lot of people. Nearly everyone in town knew her and held her in high regard. She’d take on extra work just to cover for a committee member who couldn’t make a meeting or cut an off-day short to do errands for anyone who’d ask her to, but from what you knew, she was only really friends with Agatha.

And now, you hoped she felt she was friends with you too.

Today was one of the hottest days of the season so far and also the day of the biggest school event. In association with the church, the sports festival equally divided their earnings from the festival and put it towards the school, church, and municipal government.

It was perhaps one of the biggest events in town for local businesses would also set up their stands and sell their products and services, and along with the carnival games and freshly-cooked food that stretched all the way down the expanse of Main Street under the sunny warmth of a budding summer, the festival was an attraction that had the small Californian town bustling with both locals and tourists alike.

Needless to say, the planning for the festival was extensive and it was one of the primary reasons both you and Wanda had become so busy over the last few weeks, planning completely different portions of the festival at the same time.

The festival was teeming with families and couples and it reminded you a lot of home; you felt a bit nostalgic. But mostly, you felt proud for having taken part in such a successful turnout. You looked around at the game and food concessions and small-business booths that extended down the long stretch of the lively street.

On one side of the street, a grassy clearing with a large playground and plenty of picnic tables served as a seating area, mostly. People ate and chatted with one another, watched their children as they swung around on the playground, and were overall just enjoying spending such a cherished event under the sun in the charming town.

Some that occupied the grassy plain were sprawled out under the sunny green expanse, some were sitting together with loved ones on picnic blankets they’d brought, and some, including a familiar woman sitting with a group of less-familiar women, were sitting at the picnic tables.

You approached the table of women after spotting Wanda and saw that her hair was tied back and that she was wearing jean shorts that revealed smooth legs, tennis shoes, and a white blouse that she had rolled up to her elbows.

By the time you’d gotten to the picnic table you felt a bit regretful, for you didn’t know any of the other women she was sitting with and you felt rather awkward walking up to the group of women, some of whom were sitting with their husbands.

But Wanda had already caught sight of you. She turned when you came into her peripheral and called out your name cheerfully, waving you over so you really couldn’t walk back now.

She stood from her seat and wrapped an arm around you. “Hi,” she then said after pulling away from the embrace to meet your eyes. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

You nodded with a smile. “Yeah, it’s been pretty nice,” you answered.

Her eyes ran over your face for a moment longer before she stepped back and allowed the rest of the picnic table to see you. With her hand resting on your shoulder, she introduced, “This is Y/N. She’s moved here from Los Angeles for the time being to work on her teaching degree.”

While you and the table exchanged hellos with each other, Wanda turned to you and said, “This is the school’s PTA. Most of it.”

Then she offered, “Why don’t you come and sit here with us, honey?” She sat back down and moved over to the side, one hand on the empty space beside her.

You quickly looked over the picnic table of couples and single mothers as they’d resumed their conversations, then over at the empty spot.

“Oh… Well, I wouldn’t want to bother any of you, and I think Vision is around here somewhere looking for a seat,” you answered and looked around for him.

Wanda then stood from her seat again, enough to be able to reach over to you and take your hand. “Nonsense, darling. Come here,” she told you. She pulled you to the table and took the small plate of food from your hand before setting it down on the table. She sat you down beside her.

Discussion around the picnic table continued and Wanda poured you a glass of water from the pitcher at the middle of the table. You smiled gratefully at her and she was quickly reined back into the table’s conversation.

Unsurprisingly, she was pretty talkative with the table. You’d known how open and social Wanda was, you’d seen it yourself, but you hadn’t seen her interact with other people yet.

She was as charismatic as ever. She told jokes that everyone laughed at, and when she spoke, everyone at the table listened with their full attention. She was actively part of every conversation that took place between the table of mothers and their husbands.

It was comforting in a way, because with Wanda leading every conversation, you didn’t have to feel pressured to do anything but sit beside her and listen to everyone talk. You spoke when you were spoken to and felt completely content sitting beside Wanda, eating your food and occasionally participating in discussion.

Wanda was rather happy to have you sitting beside her. She looked at you with an adoring smile every time you answered a question or voiced your opinions on something, and she rewarded you by running her hand down your back or squeezing your shoulder, and a few times, she even grazed the back of her fingers against your thigh.

A voice called your name from behind and you turned to see Bruce waving you over. You stood from your seat and Wanda looked up at you.

“Come right back when you’re done, honey,” she told you.

You promised you would, then threw out your empty plate of food to head over to Banner.

From the picnic table, Wanda eyed you as you dashed around doing favour to favour, first starting with you being asked to bring back some papers from the classroom, which was only just down the road. She was eager to have you back the moment you handed Bruce his paperwork, but you were soon caught up being asked to run around only further by people who suddenly needed your help, from parents who wanted to talk with you to being asked to fetch things from inside the church.

“Wanda?” a woman at the table said, trying to get her attention. She waved her hand in front of her face and Wanda looked away from you, blinking out of her concentration.

With a superficial laugh, she replied, “Sorry. I must have zoned out there.”

Tommy and Billy came from playing carnival games with their father to settle down for a moment and sit on their mother’s lap. With her arms wrapped around her twins’ waists securely as they drank from her cup of water and ate from her plate, they told her how eventful their day had been and that soon their father would let them help one of his friends run his game booth.

After filling their bellies and hydrating themselves, they slid off of their mother’s lap and were nearly about to run back to Vision before Wanda took hold of their wrists and had them stand still while she reapplied their sunscreen in spite of their whines.

When she was finished, they ran back over to Vision and were practically hopping around anticipating the chance to help with the ring game.

Later, Monica came up to Wanda and tapped her on the shoulder. She was holding a clipboard in her arm and looking a tad flustered. “I’m so sorry to ask this of you, Wanda, but one of the booths are about to run right out of food, and normally we’d just have them close for the day but there’s a line for it right down the street, and—”

“I understand,” Wanda interrupted her frazzled rambling with a warm smile and stood from the picnic table. “What do you want me to do?” she asked with a supportive hand on the brunette’s upper arm.

“Oh, thank you.” She breathed out a sigh of relief. “There’s a rice cooker and a few vegetables they need diced in the church basement’s kitchen. Would you be able to cut a few of them and get some rice going? That’s all, and I’ll be down in a little to bring it out for them.”

Wanda nodded and squeezed her arm gently. “Of course,” she said and reassured Monica again when she was a flurry of apologies again. She excused herself from the table and walked over to the church, which was just across the road.

As she walked, she looked for you, hoping that perhaps she could get you for herself, even if that meant just dicing some vegetables in a church basement.

When she caught sight of you with a particular blonde standing by an inflatable bouncy house Dottie was put in charge of to watch the kids, Wanda felt a wave of scorn come over her. She watched from the church steps as you conversed with Dottie, the wide grin on her lips as she discussed God knows what with you.

What business could she possibly have with you?

Did she even have anything interesting or intelligent to say, anything that warranted the friendly smile that formed on your lips as you spoke with her?

Dottie never liked Wanda, which never concerned her too much until she began to question what kinds of things Dottie must’ve said about her to you. Wanda was self-assured in her reputation and confident in the relationship she’d developed with you, but the image she created in her head of the blonde’s snarky little smirk as she got in close to you made Wanda’s blood boil.

It’d been hard to make plans with you for the past few weeks and Wanda couldn’t help but wonder how many times you’d seen Dottie, and for the first time, Wanda felt strongly remorseful for how much time she put into things other than her personal life.

Have you ever visited her house for coffee?

Did you have her number too?

Tearing her eyes away from the two of you, Wanda continued up the stairs and into the church, where she felt her teeth clenching tight against each other in irritation. She headed downstairs and into the kitchen where she took out the refrigerated vegetables and set them out on a cutting board.

Then she looked through the cabinets for the rice cooker and immediately became increasingly vexed when she couldn’t find it. She knelt down by the bottom of the shelves where a mess of boxes and tupperware made it impossible to find the rice cooker if it were hiding there on the shelves somewhere.

Unbeknownst to her, Agatha had come in following behind her when she saw Wanda heading into the church in hopes of finally taking some time to catch up with her friend. When she went into the basement, she saw Wanda crouching down beside one of the kitchen cabinets, arms deep in a clutter of plastic tupperware and storage boxes.

She was making quite a mess, chaotically sorting through the cabinets with less of an intention to find whatever she was looking for and instead with the intention of simply taking out some form of anger on the poor boxes of plastic spoons and serving napkins.

“I can’t find this goddamned rice cooker,” Wanda hissed when she saw Agatha standing by the kitchen door frame.

“Cursing the name of the Lord in a church,” Agatha said in feigned disapproval then whistled.

Looking over her shoulder, Wanda shot her friend a poisonous glare then went back to searching for the rice cooker. After a moment, she stood up and slammed the cabinet door shut. “It��s not in here,” she snapped and brought a hand up to her forehead as she sighed out.

“I’ll look. Just cut the vegetables,” Agatha told her and looked through the kitchen while Wanda began rinsing the vegetables. She had no luck with finding the rice cooker either.

From behind her, Wanda was dicing a carrot slice especially aggressively and Agatha turned to see it practically diced to a sad little orange paste. “Honey…” Agatha muttered, leaning against the counter and staring at her. Wanda didn’t respond as she continued to dice the carrot slice into mush. “Wanda.”

She snapped her head up and bit, “What?”

Agatha pointed at the half-paste, half-solid pile of carrot. “I think you got it,” she said, her nose scrunched up.

Wanda looked down at it as if really seeing it for the first time then flicked it off the cutting board and into the sink. She continued dicing the rest of the carrot.

“Something on your mind, sweetpea?” the brunette asked and pulled off a bit of washed broccoli from its head before sticking it in her mouth.

“No.”

Agatha hummed, unconvinced. She continued to watch Wanda dice up the carrots and move onto the bell peppers with startling focus as if she was revenge-chopping the poor things. Then, feeling the need to tease her, she said, “I saw Y/N and Dottie talking outside.”

Wanda visibly bristled and she cut down particularly hard on a slice of yellow pepper so the edge of the knife met loudly with the plastic cutting board. “Did you now?” she asked with a steady voice.

“Have you gotten a chance to speak with her today?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And what?” she asked and looked up from the cutting board.

Slightly amused by seeing her friend so occupied by the thought of someone, Agatha admitted, “I was just wondering, because a few days ago Y/N asked how you were doing.”

“She did?” she inquired, untensing for a moment. Then she looked back down to the bell peppers and continued slicing them. “And what did you say?”

Agatha replied, “I said that you’d been busy. She said that she’d been texting with you but she wanted to know how you were.”

After some silence, Wanda asked, “Has she ever asked you about Dottie?”

It’d been such a long time since she’s seen Wanda behave like this. Repressing a little laugh but not being able to hide her grin, Agatha insisted, “You’re jealous.”

With a scoff and a mockingly amused smile, Wanda replied, “I am not jealous.” Then after a moment she added, “Who would I be jealous of? Dottie? Please.”

“I’d understand if you were. They seem to be quite close.”

At that, Wanda visibly tensed and set the knife down before saying, “How about you pick things up here, and I’ll head back home to fetch a rice cooker? I think I have one in my kitchen.”

It was more of an instruction than a suggestion, for she immediately rounded Agatha before waiting for her response and stormed out of the basement and out of the building.

When Wanda stepped outside, you were no longer standing around with Dottie but instead chatting with one of the teachers from the school’s staff. But Wanda was impatient and now set aflame by Agatha’s purposefully-baiting words, and she walked towards you until she could place a hand against your lower back.

“Hi, honey,” Wanda greeted with a soft smile when you turned your head to look at her. She looked over to Pepper, who you were in the middle of a conversation with. “I apologise, but I have to steal her away from you. I’m afraid I need Y/N’s assistance with something.”

Pepper was more than understanding and bid you a goodbye before Wanda circled her hand around to your hip, bringing you against her.

“Busy, are we?” she asked, looking at you as the two of you headed down the sidewalk to where Wanda’s car was parked.

Not picking up on what she was implying, you replied with a smile, “Not too busy, so I can help you. Where are we going?”

“Back to my place. There’s a rice cooker I need to pick up for the church and I need someone to help me look,” Wanda answered and let go of you to round the car and unlock the doors. She slid into the driver’s seat.

You buckled yourself into the passenger’s seat and immediately felt more comfortable having a break from the bustling crowds of people. And you were finally able to spend some time with Wanda again.

“Let me get you a drink,” Wanda offered when arrived at her house and passed by her kitchen. “It’s hot out there.”

You didn’t decline, for when you ran your tongue against the roof of your mouth you realised how thirsty you were, especially after doing not much else but talking with people the whole time.

While Wanda poured what looked like homemade lemonade into a glass, she said, “I wasn’t aware that you were so popular, Y/N.”

You looked up, but her eyes were focused on the pitcher of lemonade. “I’m not popular,” you said, laughing a little at the mere suggestion. You stepped into the kitchen in front of the island counter where Wanda was pouring your drink.

“No?” She looked up from the glass and set the pitcher down. She chuckled a little and did away with your suspicions that she was upset with you. “It looked like everyone was lining up just to talk with you.” She slid your glass of lemonade over to you. “You didn’t notice?”

“I, um… Well, I guess not.”

Pleased with your simplicity, Wanda leaned against the counter and rested her cheek against the heel of her hand. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” she reassured and watched you take a drink of the lemonade, her eyes focused on the way your lips parted around the rim of the glass. She felt far more comfortable than she was before now that she was alone with you, having you to herself and not having to worry about the next time you might be stolen away from her.

After a few moments of watching how cute you looked sitting at the island complimenting how good her homemade lemonade was, Wanda said, “Shall we start looking for the rice cooker? I believe it’s in the storage closet.”

You set the glass down and Wanda led you forward to the storage closet, which was just by the doorframe of the entrance to the kitchen. You searched through it then crouched down to start digging through the set of boxes on the floor.

Wanda’s phone buzzed with a text and she turned to take her phone out of her purse on top of the kitchen counter. The text was from Monica that read: ‘Agatha and I found the rice cooker!! I’m so sorry that you had to drive all the way back home.’

Keeping her expression still, she tucked her phone back into her purse then turned to you as you continued to dig through the lowest shelf of the storage closet. Her eyes were trained on your ass as you had your back turned to her unassumingly. She leaned back against the kitchen counter, watching you from behind.

“I found it!” you said and carefully manoeuvred a box out from the back of the closet. The rice cooker was still in its box, likely having been used about a handful of times since it was purchased.

To Wanda’s dismay, you stood back up and closed the closet door. But when you turned around with the most eager little smile on your face from having found what she was looking for, she felt warmed.

“Thank you, honey,” Wanda cooed and took the box from you. She set it down onto the kitchen counter by her purse. She turned back around and her breath hitched when she felt herself fueled with a twinge of adrenaline at the sight of you.

After weeks of being away from you and a chaotic day of watching you talk with nearly everyone else but her, Wanda reached out and wrapped her fingers around the corner of your shirt, gently tugging you towards her.

Your face flushed and you looked away from her, but the closer she brought you, the more difficult it became to do anything but look into her eyes that were trained on your face.

“Y/N, there is something I’ve been meaning to give you. It’s upstairs,” she whispered when you were close enough to hear the quiet hush of her voice. The tip of her tongue peeked out when she ran it across her bottom lip and she asked, “Would you mind coming up with me?”

You swallowed and felt yourself nodding, but you weren’t entirely sure if you really did nod or if you just imagined it; you sort of felt a bit lightheaded.

A ghost of a smirk formed on Wanda’s lips and she let go of your shirt before she led you towards the staircase and up to the second level of the house.

Your heart began beating faster in your chest as you continued to follow behind her nervously. You hesitated a moment when Wanda opened her bedroom door and stepped in, but eventually you forced yourself forward and followed her to the closed closet.

She turned around suddenly and asked, “Can I ask you a question, Y/N?”

“S-Sure,” you stuttered, feeling out of place.

Wanda stepped forward so her face was just inches in front of yours. “Have you ever been with a woman before, sweetheart?”

You felt no need to lie, and you felt no need to be embarrassed around Wanda although you felt that your face was warm and flushed.

When you nodded, Wanda added, “More than once?” She seemed increasingly interested at your second nod as she raised her eyebrows in piqued interest, a small intrigued smirk forming on her lips.

“You enjoyed yourself?” she asked, now overtly teasing you as her fingers ran down the collar of your shirt.

You nodded once more, and she was appreciative of your willingness to answer her questions with little hesitation. Then her eyes flickered up from your shirt to your face, curious juniper irises sinking into your focus. “And men?” she inquired with a slight tip of her head.

This time you shook your head and Wanda’s breath seemed to hitch, her interest now at an all-time high.

Her fingers tightened around the collar of your shirt and she pulled you towards her, crushing your lips against hers. She was quick to take control of the kiss and tip her head to the side. Her hand let go of your shirt and she wrapped her fingers around the back of your neck, releasing a soft moan in the form of a warm exhale into your open mouth.

She pulled you backwards with her as she reached for the knob of her closet door. She opened it and pulled you in then momentarily disconnected from your lips to search for something.

You were distracted by the sight of her lips that were parted to allow her to pant softly. You leaned forward and pressed kisses up her neck, causing Wanda to stumble back slightly and hum out with pleasured appreciation. Her fingers ran up the back of your head and were interlaced with your hair, encouraging you to continue kissing her neck.

Her head pulled back enough to uncover your eyes and she lifted an all-black silicone cock already attached to its harness up to your face. Your eyes widened at the sight of the toy and Wanda leaned down to press her lips against your ear so she could whisper, “I want you to fuck me.”

When she read in your expression that you were more nervous than shocked that Wanda had brought the topic up to you, she reassured, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, honey.”

“B-But I want…” You raised your head and looked at her with a determined look in your eyes. “I want to. I want to make you feel good.”

Wanda grinned and she kissed you. “That’s sweet of you, but I want you to enjoy yourself too. We can go as slow or fast as you’d like. How about you start whatever speed you’re comfortable with, hm? And we can work from there.”

“I know you’ve had better…” you said quietly, bouts of your insecurity evident in your soft, unsure tone of voice. Though you didn’t explicitly mention it, the both of you knew exactly what you were referencing.

Wanda wasn’t surprised and instead just grinned and asked in a teasing way, “Who told you about that?”

You looked away, embarrassed. You hadn’t meant to bring it up.

She leaned forward and kissed the corner of your mouth before grinning against it and saying, “Does that make you jealous?” She was looking up at you mischievously. Then you look away again, the other way so she disconnected from the corner of your lips.

Wanda walked forward so you were forced to walk back out of the closet and into her bedroom again. She closed the closet door behind her and nudged you backwards so you were forced to sit at the edge of her bed. She placed the strap down by your hip.

“Does that interest you?” she asked and began to unbutton her blouse as she looked down at you sitting on her bed with the most innocent little eyes. “Thinking about how I had a cock shoved down my throat while I jerked two more off with my hands, watching them stroke their dicks to how I was getting my ass fucked underneath them, cum in my hair and on my tits, being violated by all those braindead men just so I could get off until I was — almost — just as fucked stupid as they were.”

She giggled when you were in a deep stupor, eyes following her fingers and listening to her every word. She slipped her blouse off her shoulders and let it slip to the bedroom floor before working on her shorts, unbuttoning the top then unzipping it, revealing a maroon pair of panties that matched her bra.

“Well, you don’t have to think about that anymore,” she said when she was now only in her lingerie. She held your chin in her hands and tipped your head up to look at her. She stepped forward between your legs so your face was perhaps only an inch or two away from her tits. “Because what’ll be far more interesting is what I’m going to do with you.”

Wanda leaned down and kissed you, and with her other hand, began undressing you. You helped her and she couldn’t help but blush seeing how eager you were to have sex with her. She kissed down your body as she continued to undress your body.

“Besides, honey, it’s different,” she muttered against your shoulder as she kissed up to your neck. “It matters to me who I’m having sex with. Sex isn’t just a thing you do. It’s more than that. It’s about connection and passion, though sometimes it can be purely shallow. Like it was that time.

“But it’s far sexier doing it with someone you connect with. Don’t you feel the same?”

You met her eyes when she lifted her head, her hair coming loose from the hair tie that had been holding it back neatly through the day. “I agree,” you said to her.

Though you spoke little sometimes, overtaken by feelings of nerves and overwhelming libido, Wanda understood you completely. She liked how soft-spoken and sensitive you were. She couldn’t wait to have someone so delicate and gentle rough-fuck her from behind. How terribly she wanted to have you moan in her ear, telling her how much you loved her pussy.

She ran her hands up your sides, caressing your body with gentle admiration and affection. She kissed the swells of your breasts. “You’re such a sweet girl, Y/N,” she cooed and stood up once she fastened the harness around your hips. She brought your head against her chest and kissed your temple. She was so affectionate and was full of so much passion. Her touches were so soft as she led you further up onto the bed and climbed on top of you. Her hands rounded her body and she unclipped her bra so she could discard it onto the floor.

“Wanda, you’re so gorgeous,” you uttered as you ran your eyes up her body.

She allowed herself only a moment or two to blush at your compliment before she ran her palms up your chest and rubbed her still-clothed centre against your cock. “Are you just going to lay there and talk about it the whole time?” she questioned.

You gripped her hips harshly and pulled her down onto you so you could reach her lips and kiss them. Your hands adjusted their positions and you flipped her around and got on top of her, eliciting a tiny giggle from the older woman.

Moving down her body, you gently flicked your tongue across one of her erect nipples before you suddenly bit down on it, causing her to yelp and reach up to cradle the back of your head. You kissed the plain of her stomach, nipping at the soft flesh and running a flattened tongue over the stretch marks over her hips. She made a noise of appreciation and continued petting your head, watching you cover her body in your delicate traces of adoration.

Her hand moved to the side of your face and lifted your head, allowing her to turn onto her stomach and lift herself onto her elbows. When you straightened onto your knees, she lifted her ass into the air and pressed back against your strap.

Wordlessly, Wanda looked back at you over her shoulder with eyes that dared you to go further and an ass that stroked the length of your cock in the most mesmerising way you’d ever seen.

With shaky fingers, you pulled her panties to the side and found her wet cunt sticking to the fabric, pink folds glistening and sticking out from between gorgeous smooth thighs. Not being able to help yourself, you leaned down and ran your tongue through her pussy, making Wanda shudder. She tasted unbelievably good.

Your own cunt throbbed and you knew you had to do more. You parted from her sticky mess and pressed a kiss to the hood of her clit before straightening again.

Wanda hastily dug through the drawer of her nightstand and pulled out a clear bottle then reached back and handed it to you. Quickly, you squirted the lube into your hand then lathered your cock in it. Wanda took the bottle back and discarded it somewhere on the bed, uncaring of where it ended up for the time being.

She whimpered when you ran the length of your cock along her cunt, especially when you took her folds between your thumb and forefinger and ran it right through. The lubed strap slid beautifully across the delicate pink and Wanda felt herself trickle down onto her throbbing clit.

Wanda encouraged, “Don’t rush if you don’t want to. That makes me feel really good.”

Her panties threatened to slip back into place and you became impatient and pulled back a bit, tugging her panties down her thighs and from her ankles.

“Someone’s impa–” Wanda was cut off suddenly when you shoved your cock into her without warning, making her gasp and flinch forward, eyes squeezed shut as she was forced to adjust to your size. It didn’t help that you immediately began thrusting into her, making Wanda nearly lose her balance and fall forward. But she kept herself up with her ass in the air for you.

She didn’t have time to think of how shocking it was that such a quiet and docile girl like you had such fire brewing within her, for she was immediately overtaken by her desire.

“Pull my hair,” she instructed between groans and you obliged, reaching forward and taking a handful of her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. “Tighter,” she said, and you tightened your fingers into a stern fist, pulling Wanda backwards and watching as her back curved into a beautiful arch.

“Oh, that’s right, Y/N!” she yelped as you quickened your hips against her. “Perfect.” Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as you watched her ass redden and bounce from the harshness of your thrusts.

Wanda reached back to get your attention. “Spank me,” she told you.

Following her instruction, you brought your hand up and back down to deliver a harsh spank to her ass. You truly couldn’t believe the effect it had on her. She lost balance and laid flat against the bed, her arms being unable to hold herself up as she squealed out.

You spanked her repeatedly like she wanted, each time eliciting a tiny whimper from her with half her face buried in her blankets. You pulled your cock out of her and rubbed her throbbing clit with the pads of your fingers. She groaned when you left her and she looked back at you, watching as your eyes ran over her pussy.

Her cunt was swollen and so beautiful, the trimmed tuft of dark hair and the shade of soft pink glistening from the juices dripping from her hole that squeezed around nothing, desperate for more of your cock.

Her pussy was so, so perfect.

“Y/N,” Wanda said, speaking with a gentle rasp to her voice. “I can only be patient for so long. I need your cock.” She said it with a soft smile on her lips, and although her shoulder partially-shrouded it, you could see her cheeks were tinted a soft pink as she’d watched you look her over with such overwhelming admiration.

You pressed a kiss to her opening then straightened back up, repositioning yourself against her. You were distracted momentarily when you looked down and saw her looking up at you, green eyes still so full of appreciation for you.

Then suddenly she repositioned herself and turned onto her back. She sat up for a second and wrapped her arms around your waist before pulling you down onto her. Her lips met yours in a gentle, passionate kiss.

Wanda was amused by how distracted you were by her and she kissed your cheek while she reached down and entered your cock into her opening herself. Her legs wrapped around your hips and she tightened them around you, moaning into your ear as you slowly entered her again.

“Say that I’m a desperate slut who loves to get fucked.”

“W-Wanda,” you panted. “You’re a desperate slut that wants nothing but to get her pussy fucked.”

“That’s right,” she purred, her thighs tightening around your hips. “Mommy’s just a dirty bitch who’s nothing without a cock filling up her filthy fuckholes. Ah… Don’t you like that, Y/N?”

You squeezed your eyes shut and focused on fucking her how she liked, and a part of you almost felt bad for the way she degraded herself for no other lover you’d ever had has ever spoken like that. But fuck, Wanda was right — it was hot.

“I-I like that, mommy,” you confessed.

“Oh, I know you do.” She pet the back of your head. “Make mommy come, angel. I’ve had such a hard last few weeks, baby. Doesn’t mommy deserve to feel good? She does, doesn’t she?”

You opened your eyes and nodded, the sincerity in your eyes as you agreed that Wanda needed to feel good after the last few weeks making her melt. “I wanna make mommy feel good…” you mumbled. “Make mommy come.”

Wanda groped her breast then twisted her nipple between her fingers. You leaned down and wrapped your lips around her other hardened bud, making her moan out and arch her back up against your body.

Feeling her lower stomach tighten with a familiar, beloved pressure, Wanda wrapped her legs around your firmly and crossed her ankles against your lower back. She manually fucked herself up against you, bringing her hips up and meeting yours repeatedly in desperation. It was a messy out-of-sync attempt at first as you continued to thrust into her, but the both of you soon found a rhythm with Wanda fucking herself and you pounding her back into her bed.

“Fuck, Y/N,” she mewled into your ear. “I’m–”

She was cut off when her orgasm was wrenched out of her, and she arched her back up and clung onto you, her arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you close. Her fingernails scratched down your back and she cried out loudly, throwing her head back and exposing her neck.

You released her nipple and kissed up her neck until your lips reached her cheek and you could watch her orgasm come over her, your other hand cradling the side of her head as her eyes clenched shut and her jaw was slack, a guttural cry being pulled out of her.

Then finally she slumped back down onto the bed tiredly, her body a sore and sweaty mess of weak limbs. She shook with the tremors of her orgasm’s aftermath and you fell to her side, hugging her around her waist and burying your face in her sweet-smelling hair. She reached up and intertwined her fingers with your hair, fingernails gently scratching at the back of your head.

“That was the best sex I’ve had in a very, very long time,” she huffed out. She’d forgotten how good it felt to have sex wanting to have every string attached.

Wanda turned her head and looked at you. “Y/N,” she said seriously. She cupped your cheek with her hand and stroked her thumb against your soft skin. “I want to commit to you. And you only.”

You perked up and lifted yourself onto your elbow. “So we can… date?”

She laughed and pulled you down so she could kiss your cheek. She spoke against it, “You are the most unassuming, sincere person I have ever met.”

“I-Is that a yes?”

“That’s a yes, honey.”

You practically beamed and Wanda could only laugh again, feeling such a warm burst of joy spreading through her at the sight of you and how happy you looked.

“I’ve never started dating someone right after having sex with them,” you said, looking down at her with your head above hers. Your hand was on her stomach, drawing gentle shapes against it.

“Does that bother you?” she asked quietly, lifting both her hands to either side of your face.

You shook your head immediately, the happy smile reminiscent of a small puppy.

A large smile pulled at Wanda's lips. “You are a terribly, terribly lovely girl, Y/N,” she said then kissed you. When she laid her head back down and looked up at you, the both of you exchanged a silent stare in which every hope for your relationship was conveyed in the silent fondness you shared looking at each other.

Wanda turned her head and looked at the clock on the nightstand. “I think we can get away with making me come one more time before we have to go back.” She moved herself closer to you and had you lay down beside her. “Make me come with your fingers.”

She spread her legs and rubbed her fingers against her wet folds while she tucked her other hand between your legs and met your cunt with them. She slid two manicured fingers into her pussy at the same time she entered you.

Eventually after a few moments when she’d become bored of herself, she pulled out and took your wrist, placing your fingers against her warm pussy. You started fingering her while Wanda continued with her own hand still tucked between your thighs, gentle and smooth and ensuring you could follow her lead, feeling with your tight walls the way she carefully fucked her fingers in and out of you.

“You feel amazing,” she uttered against your lips. “So wet.” She leaned forward and tugged at your earlobe with her teeth. “I wanna see you come for me.”

Wanda quickened her fingers and you did the same, following her obediently. Soon, the both of you were exclusively reliant on each other for your releases, mutual pleasure tying the two of you together in the sweaty meshing of your bodies amongst Wanda’s soft bed sheets and heavy exhales from your mouths.

Finally, with Wanda holding herself back until she felt you near your orgasm, the both of you came together, tightening around each other’s fingers and for a moment making it seem like you shared a body, crying out against each other and feeling the other come around their fingers as they felt themselves riding through their orgasms.

A few minutes later, the both of you were a cluster of two warm bodies, limbs entangled with each other. Your head was on Wanda’s chest as she stroked your hair and held your hand, your other idly running its thumb across the stretch marks that went up the side of her stomach.

The strap had been removed and was laying by the bottle of lube Wanda eventually found so she could be reminded to clean it properly later.

“Why all of this so suddenly?” you asked, looking up at her from her shoulder. “I mean, bringing me home and then confessing and everything.”

Wanda hummed and circled a lock of your hair around her forefinger. “I’d just had it on my mind for a while, and it’d been so long since I last had you to myself,” she explained. “So I suppose when we got time alone, I just couldn’t wait anymore.”

“Agatha said you were jealous earlier.”

Her face contorted and she looked down at you as if she thought she hadn’t heard it right the first time. At the sight of you and realising you were serious, she looked away and attempted to conceal her embarrassed expression with a laugh.

“What? Why would she–” She tried to chuckle, but it came out sounding nervous. “Agatha doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” she insisted with a shake of her head.

Then after a moment, more seriously albeit still hesitant, she asked, “Why did she say that?”

“She said you looked jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous,” Wanda asserted. “I wasn’t.”

You smiled, and for the first time, Wanda didn’t catch onto the subtleties of your expression because she was occupied trying to obscure her own. It didn’t take long for you to catch onto the fact that she truly had been feeling jealous earlier.

“Besides,” she said, “you’re mine now, so…” She looked over at you and pulled you close so her body was against yours. “No reason to feel jealous anymore, is there?”

With a grin, you climbed onto her lap and Wanda placed her hands on your hips. You leaned down so your foreheads were pressed against each other. “No reason at all,” you answered.

Wanda kissed you and you felt her grin widely against your lips.

“Good,” she said.

Neither of you realised nor would you care if either of you remembered that you’d both been expected back at the festival nearly forty minutes ago.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #elizabeth olsen

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boldlyvoid · 1 year

Note

Can you please write where Eddie really likes the reader but reader is dating Jason carver 😌😌😌😌

absolutely! i hope you like it

Warnings: mutual pining, bullying, abusive relationships, mental abuse, name-calling, slut shaming

word count: 1.7k

Jason used to be cool.

Not in the way most kids at school think he is now, no, he used to play pretend with Eddie and the boys in the schoolyard… he used to have an imagination and a kind heart and a strong arm to wield his imaginary sword side by side with Sir Eddie.

Although, he doesn’t know how much of that was truly him or if it was all just one of the many faces Jason had. Their group was a lot bigger back then, back when they were forced to socialize with each other, they even had a lot of girls in their group.

One girl, in particular, Y/N, who was now a cheerleader and Jason’s doting, perfect girlfriend. It made Eddie’s stomach turn to think about his wonderful friends becoming the people who hurt him the most now. Jason was so fucking mean, he didn’t understand how someone as lovely as Y/N could sit by and let it happen, which hurt him more.

It didn’t stop his crush on her, unfortunately. She was still nice to him when Jason wasn’t around, she was his partner in Chemistry and she helped him with his English homework sometimes… but she still went back to Jason at lunch and kissed him in front of everyone and said nothing when he told Eddie to eat shit and die for no reason.

There was a hatred on Jason’s part that he didn’t understand whatsoever, Eddie was valid for hating him back cause the treatment was unbearable. He’s been tripped, pushed, spilled on, yelled at, lied to, and about… people believed anything Jason said just because he was popular. The teachers loved him because he was a handsome, church-going, helpful man. He was a kiss-ass. A rich kid. A little bitch.

Eddie was the opposite. Just by looking at him the teachers and the other kids decided that he was a bad kid. They thought that he was evil because he didn’t fit into the mould that society set for young men. They claimed he was going against the church for growing out his hair, wearing dark colours and reading any book that wasn’t the bible.

They believed in boats full of animals, wizards that could part seas and turn water into wine and that killing gods son was okay because he could come back to life 3 days later… but the lord of the rings is too much???? It thoroughly pissed him off.

Like clockwork, he has enough of all the shit-talking in the cafeteria and retreats to the back corner of the library to read his devil books and have a moment of peace. But it doesn’t happen. He’s barely in his spot for 10 minutes when Y/N shows up between the bookshelves and smiles at him like nothing happened.

“Hey…”

He ignores her even though his heart is screaming. He’s so mad that she can just sit there while her boyfriend says those things and then show up here. It’s not like she was going to apologize or make it right or anything.

She walks over to where he’s sitting and kneels down beside him, trying to get his attention, she rests her hands on his arm but he flinches back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Really, you have to ask?” He tries to keep his voice down but he’s so hurt. “your boyfriend is a grade-A cunt and I can’t fucking do this anymore.”

Her shoulder slump and her face falls, “oh…”

“Oh?” He shakes his head, disappointed in her. “Why don’t you care? Why do you let him talk to me like that? Does he talk to you like that?”

She shakes her head, “not really… I mean, it’s different but he is mean to me too.”

“Why?” He stares into her eyes and watches them break, “why do you stay with him?”

“I don’t know,” she cries, eyes welling with tears as she loses her voice. “it’s… it’s complicated.”

He drops his book and cups her face in his hands, he hasn’t seen her cry since she was 11 and scraped her knee on the pavement. He held her like this back then too, he kissed her knee to make it better and he wiped all her tears… “what does he do to you?”

“He doesn’t do anything,” he’s adamant about that. “It’s the way he talks to me… like— like I’m nothing if I leave him. Like he says I’m wasted goods and no one else will love me like he does.”

“That’s a goddamn lie,” he’s stern but soft at the same time. “Cause that’s not love, I love you. I’ve loved you enough to watch you live your life from the sidelines and now I love you enough to tell you that you deserve better.”

She doesn’t look like she believes it, she looks so defeated. “I don’t like what he does to you, I don’t like how he talks to anyone, really… I can’t just leave him. He’s not going to just let me go…”

“Do you want him to?” He asks, “do you love him?”

She’s confused and distressed, she’s never told anyone the truth let alone herself. She’s barely processed this on her own and now she felt like he was making her choose. “I don’t— I mean, I’m not sure? I don’t want to be alone.”

Tears well again and she pulls away from him to sob into her hands.

She really believes the shit he’s told her. Eddie can’t believe how deep he’s got his hooks in her. It breaks his heart to see her like this. He doesn’t know what to do, he knows he can’t change her mind in a matter of minutes, this is something he saw in his parents. His dad was a royal cunt, his mom a sweetheart, so of course, his words got to her. She was too soft for the world, Y/N was too.

He reaches out to comfort her and she leans right against his chest. He wraps her up in his arms and kisses the top of her head, “I’m so sorry he’s made you feel like this. He’s not supposed to make you feel like this if he really loves you,” he whispers. “This isn’t how real love feels.”

“This could be,” she mumbles against him.

“What?”

“This could be what real love feels like,” she says it again.

“It could be,” he agrees. His chest filling up with a mixture of pride and anxiety, “I’ll tell you right now, I’m never going to treat you like he has… and if I ever even slightly make you feel unloved you have the right to knock some sense into me.”

She laughs a bit, “okay… do you think we can do it?”

“Do what?”

“Make it through whatever he’s going to put us through… I mean, once I dump him the slut shamming with start and then the bullying will escalate and god knows what else. I might even be kicked off the team for breaking the abstinence pact.”

“What?” He had no idea that was a thing. “Does the basketball team have one too?”

She shakes her head. “That’s fucked up. If you get kicked off then Jason should too…”

“No, he’s going to tell people that I fucked you,” she explains better. “Not that he took my virginity, he’s going to say I’m such a sex-crazed whore and couldn’t get it from him so I went to the freak. I’ve been with him long enough to know what he’ll say.”

“I’ll break both his hands he’ll never make another fuckin basket again,” Eddie basically growls. He’s seeing red at the mere idea of Jason carrying on his bullshit but directing it toward her.

“And go to jail,” she reminds him. “I quite like having you in my classes and not behind bars.”

“We could just not tell anyone?” He suggests, willing to be her dirty secret to keep her safe.

She shakes her head and holds him tighter, “um, no,” she sounds offended. “If I get to finally touch you all the time I’m taking the opportunity.”

She was clingy… he was going to love this.

“When can you dump him?” He wonders, wanting to know exactly when he can ask her out…

“Now,” she takes a deep breath as she pulls away. “Come with me?”

She hauls him up to his feet and straightens out his jacket, looking up into his eyes with a smile. “You get to be my bodyguard.”

“As long as I can keep the title,” he compromises.

“Of course,” she takes his hand and leads him out of the library.

She doesn’t drop his hand until they reach her locker, where Jason is standing with his friends… his own locker was right beside her’s after all.

“What the fuck is this?” He points to Eddie, “the freak needs a tampon?”

“Eat shit, Jason,” she spits back. “I’m tired of you bullying my friends. And I’m tired of the shit you say to me. I don’t want to date you anymore, I’m not sorry.”

He lets out a shocked laugh as the rest of the kids around him oo and ah at the situation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I don’t like how you treat me—

“How I treat you?” His voice gets louder. “I deserve a bit more respect and then maybe I’d—

“Hey man,” Patrick places his hand on Jason's shoulder and pulls him back. “She’s not wrong. You’re not the nicest to her, let her go. She can make that choice.”

“Yeah, let me go,” she gives him an evil grin. “Have fun finding someone who can put up with your shit as long as I did.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, he just shakes his head in a fit of burning rage and heads off down the hallway. She turns to her fellow cheerleaders who were all whispering to themselves, “I don’t care who dates him next, just don’t come crying to me when he’s belittled all the self-worth out of you.”

She grabs her things from her locker and hands them to Eddie, “can you take these for me? I need to go ask the office if I can move.”

“Just use mine,” Eddie offers, taking all her things gladly. “It’s not like I do.”

“Okay,” she gives him a sweeter smile, looping her arm under his and making their way down the hall despite all the prying eyes.

They’d just have to get used to that.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @wroteclassicaly @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @eddiemunson-rp

Eddie

@fightingdragonswithwho @kyomito @reidselle @venomsvl @nomajdetective @girl-with-an-orange-cat @blairscott @princesseddie

#ask #blurbs #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things season 4

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sereneddie · 2 years

Text

Revival

Eddie Munson — Stranger Things

When Eddie escapes prom to look for some fresh air at the schoolyard, he finds someone that he doesn’t expect to be there: the popular girl. Who knows that small encounter would be the revival of something special.

Eddie x Female Character / Reader | Fluff

Eddie knew that this was all pointless. He didn’t know why he’d bothered to go. Prom? To be honest, Eddie would rather be in his room, practicing his guitar or just jamming to some Metallica. If it hadn’t been for Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair who had rented him a nice all-black suit, he wouldn’t have gone. He still didn’t understand why those kids would even do it, said that it was their token of gratitude because Eddie had taken them under his wings when nobody else wanted to or something. His uncle had also told him to go, to make some last good memories of high school—also kind of pointless because Eddie couldn’t wait for graduation and get out of this ridiculous place called high school.

When everybody was busy dancing to some lame pop music, Eddie took the chance to escape. He couldn’t believe that Jeff and Gareth had even tried to drag him to the dance floor; he firmly said, unless the DJ played some metal, he wouldn’t get his butt off the chair he’d been stuck in since he’d arrived.

Eddie’s feet took him to the schoolyard. Not too far from the gym where the prom was being held, but at least it wasn’t as noisy and no one was there—that was all he needed. Eddie was about to pull out his cigarette and lighter from his pocket, when the corners of his eyes caught something moving at the spot he was going to.

It was a girl. She was alone.

Eddie kept approaching, eyes squinting to try to get a better look at the girl, because his mind had raised the question of why someone would be there alone. And he finally got a better image when she stepped under the light.

Eddie recognized her. He knew the girl. He knew her full name, where she lived, the little bakery her mother owned, the table she was always at in the cafeteria, and all the classes they took together. She was one of the people he’d known since middle school. The secret that he’d always keep to only himself and would never say out loud was that he’d had a crush on her when he was thirteen.

Her dress was in a soft shade of light blue. The hem of her wavy skirt fell just above her ankle; the sleeves of her top were in short puffs and the sweetheart neckline exposed her collarbone. She let her hair down, just natural, with a floral headpiece on the left side. She looked nice. Very nice. Nicer than everyone he’d seen tonight.

Maybe this was the time for Eddie to admit that that crush from when he was thirteen had never really gone. Maybe it was the reason why all this time he still liked to steal glances at her in class or at the cafeteria, or why he’d hope that she’d be there every time he walked past her mom’s bakery.

She didn’t seem to notice his presence, because she continued to just walk back and forth with arms folded in front of her chest. As Eddie slowly stepped closer, he started to hear little hums; she was humming a song, staring down at her shiny pointy heels. She was clearly in her own world.

Eddie could’ve left. He could just turn around and look for some other place, but his feet only brought him closer until he eventually stopped. Before he even knew what he was doing, he’d already greeted her.

“Hey,” Eddie said, his voice was calm and low, trying not to scare the girl. But she still jumped on her feet, heels swiftly whirling around on concrete—she almost lost her balance.

“Whoa, careful,” Eddie said, inching towards her, ready to catch her just in case she really lost her balance. But she managed to get it back. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just me. Munson.”

“Oh, Eddie,” she breathed, one hand against her chest, as colors started coming back to her face because she’d lost it for a second from the shock. “Sorry, I thought—” She gulped. “I thought you were like a shadow or something. You’re wearing all black.”

“Ha. Yeah,” he chortled. His hands went to the hem of his suit and tugged in down to straighten it. “You’ll never see me wear a suit in any other color.”

Her lips curved into a shy smile before she dropped her gaze, and that was when the awkwardness started to settle in.

“Uh— Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you,” Eddie said, thinking that he must’ve invaded her space. “I’ll go and look for another place to—”

“No, no, no,” she cut him off, shaking her hand and meeting his gaze again. “You’re not bothering me. I mean, it’s the schoolyard, you’re welcome to be here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Too much space and air for myself anyway,” she shrugged.

Eddie chuckled, and he didn’t even know why, but his heart fluttered when his chuckle seemed to bring back the small smile on her face.

“So… You’re here for some fresh air?” Eddie asked as he sat down on one of the benches.

“Yeah,” she nodded. She turned in her heels, her back now facing Eddie, and took a deep breath. Her eyes looked out to the court in the distance. Eddie waited for more answers but there was only silence.

“Isn’t your date… Gonna be looking for you?” He asked carefully as he stared at her figure. He couldn’t help but to notice how the light blue dress wrapped perfectly around her body. She looked so pretty—the thought crossed his mind, but Eddie bit the inside of his mouth to shake it away.

“No,” she shook her head. “I don’t have a date.”

“Really?”

She scoffed and looked at him over her shoulder, and Eddie regretted blurting the response so quickly. “Is it so hard to believe, Munson?” he asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Eddie answered, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “It’s more like a compliment.” He gave her a half shrug. “You’re quite popular. You’re in the school choir, you’re smart, you’re… Blessed with good genes. There’s no way no one asked you to be their date.”

It was rather dark but it wasn’t that hard for Eddie to notice that she was blushing; he could see by how her lips were curling, trying to fight a smile from breaking out.

“Well, a few boys did. But, I said no. ‘Cause I was actually planning not to come.”

Eddie’s face crinkled in confusion. A girl like her not wanting to go to prom? He expected her to be excited about prom, the popular kids usually would be. There must be something wrong. Was it why she was out here looking for some fresh air while her friends were having fun inside?

“Why?” Eddie felt like he was asking too many questions, but he was honestly dying to know.

She let out a sigh. It sounded like a heavy one. Just like that, Eddie knew that there was definitely something bothering her mind.

She looked up to the sky this time. Eddie could only see the side of her face, slightly covered with her hair. “Do you think it’s silly to feel scared because high school is gonna be over?” She finally said after a moment of silence.

Yes. That was Eddie’s initial thought. Don’t forget the part where he couldn’t wait about leaving high school. He was going to finally get his freedom, he could do whatever he wanted. There was nothing to be scared about, everything was going to be great—Eddie didn’t know how, he just believed it. But he didn’t say yes out loud; he didn’t say anything at all.

“It’s like… You’ve spent so many years in the same place, with these same people, doing things you know. And suddenly, you’re out there. And your friends are moving away,” she said. The hint of sadness and fear in her voice couldn’t go unnoticeable. “But you stay here. And somehow you know that when you see them again, they might not be the same. Things might not be the same.”

Eddie dropped his gaze to the ground, to the tip of his shoes—he still couldn’t believe he’d let his uncle talk him into wearing dress shoes. Her words lingered in his mind; he let the silence take over again as he pondered on her words.

“So… You didn’t want to go to prom because… It’s reminding you that high school is gonna be over?”

“Yeah. Basically.”

“Well, uh… Honestly, I can’t really relate with you,” Eddie finally began, giving her a regretful look when she turned around. “I’m just excited to start a new life. Feel like the world has been waiting for Eddie Munson to… Rock ‘em,” he said, punching his fist to the air, earning a little chortle from her.

“What’s the plan?”

She suddenly walked closer to Eddie and Eddie felt his heart starting to race. His gaze followed her as she sat next to him, close enough for him to smell the sweet scent of her perfume, which might have stopped his heart for a second.

“My plan? Uh– Get a job,” he looked away when he realized that her eyes were preying him for more answers. Not in a judging or malicious way, of course, but he suddenly felt a little bit shy from the way she was staring at him. “I don’t know, just learn new things out there.”

“You’re not going to college?”

“Maybe I will, one day, who knows,” Eddie shrugged. “But if I have the funds I’d probably use it on my band rather than college, you know, maybe we can make music and play somewhere else other than The Hideout. That’s the dream.”

“The Garden,” she mentioned. “That’s the dream, right?”

Eddie’s heart jumped. She had a small smirk on her face when he looked back at her. He was genuinely surprised that she knew about that, and every crease on his face showed it—the exact reason why she continued to explain before he even asked about it. He was still stunned that she knew about his big, probably unrealistic dream of playing at Madison Square Garden.

“Back in middle school, you and Corroded Coffin were about to go on stage for the talent show,” she said, trying to get Eddie to remember. “Well, I was managing the stage with Mrs. Wilson, so I was there, and you gave this speech to your bandmates about how you guys were gonna make it the most metal performance Hawkins Middle would ever see.” Eddie swore her eyes were sparkling as she told the story, like it was a memory she cherished. “And you said something like… ‘It’s not exactly The Garden, but we gotta start somewhere’ or something like that.”

Eddie chortled, his lips forming a grin. A ridiculously stupid but joyous grin. He did remember that she’d been there that day, standing by the stage through their whole performance. He still had this image stored in his head, of how she’d smiled and clapped for them when not a lot of other students did.

“Wow, you— You remember that?” He beamed.

“I’ll never forget.” She smiled. “That was a pretty cool performance, honestly.”

“Thanks. Uh— Yeah, that’s uh, that’s the dream,” he nodded. “And, how about you? What’s your plan?”

She sighed again, this one sounded less heavy even though her smile still faltered a bit. “Stay here. Help my mom run the bakery. Go to college, I uh— I got accepted to Hawkins College. I’m taking Business.”

“That’s amazing. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” She gave him a deep nod. “I don’t really know what the dream is, though, I still have to figure that out.” She shrugged as she hugged herself, ran her hands up and down her arms, protecting herself from the small night breeze. “But I guess I’m not mad if I’ll end up making bread like my mum.”

Eddie wasted no time on taking his jacket suit off as he once again noticed her shivering. “No, Eddie, I’m fine—” She tried to refuse when she realized that Eddie was trying to put his jacket on her but he insisted, wrapping the jacket safely around her shoulder. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled and she returned it with the same gesture, before both of them looked away, a sense of warmth wrapping their hearts.

The silence seeped in again. They could hear music coming from the gym, being a nice background for the little moment they were sharing right now. Eddie had sat closer to her from his effort of giving her the jacket—their knees nearly touched and Eddie smelled her perfume again. He felt his heart pounding rather hard on his chest. Weird but comfortable.

“I guess change can be scary, huh?” Eddie softly mumbled as he traced his thumb on his rings. He kept thinking about her words and the more he thought about it, the more he understood. He rubbed his palms on his thighs before standing up.

“And that’s life. But, uh… Maybe we can focus more on the exciting parts?” He suggested, raising his eyebrows at her who was looking up at him attentively. “Like how you’re gonna meet new people and smash Business school, hey— Maybe you are gonna make bread. But, like, way more bread, because you’re gonna open up two, three other stores. Maybe even expand it out of Hawkins.”

She smiled ear to ear and Eddie couldn’t lie, he felt proud for being able to make her smile like that. She’d looked so worried earlier, even sad, but he could barely see those again in her face.

“Yeah… Yeah, that sounds… Good.” She giggles. “Oh my God, you…” She trailed off. Eddie could see her face illuminated by the dim garden lamp and his heart clenched because the way she looked at him, it was almost like she was admiring him. “You never changed.”

“I’m sorry?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. "I thought you’ve become this… This mean and scary guy.”

Eddie chortled, brushing his knuckles to the tip of his nose. “I thought you’ve become too popular to talk to me.” But apparently she was still all the same. Still the kind and shy girl he’d first talked to on the first day of middle school.

She made a face, nose all scrunched up in a cute way, before shaking her head. “It’s been so long since the last time we talked.”

“Yeah, way too long. I don’t even remember when, honestly,” Eddie agreed.

Eddie actually regretted that now. They’d taken so many classes together, had all the opportunities, but they’d never really spoken to each other, didn’t even know how or why they’d create a distance between them. They’d used to hang out back in middle school, not frequently, but enough to call each other friends. Maybe it was because she belonged to the more popular side and he was more of an outcast. If high school had been kinder, they’d probably have the courage to stay friends. What would people say if they saw the pretty, smart, popular girl hanging out with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson? Eddie had just been saving her the trouble, really.

“Hey, do you hear that?” Eddie said suddenly, pointing his finger up, catching her attention again.

“Hear what?”

“The music. That’s our cue.”

The pop dance music had died down. It had been replaced with a slow, melancholic, romantic music. But she furrowed her eyebrows, not really understanding what he meant by ‘that’s our cue’.

“I know we both don’t really want to be here right now, but…” Eddie slowly stepped closer to her. “I guess one last high school dance won’t hurt?”

Eddie extended his hand. This was a crazy thing he was doing. A couple of hours ago he didn’t even want to leave his house but now he was offering her a dance? What the hell happened? But all he knew was that he was trying to give her the last dance she deserved. He knew how busy being in a school choir was and getting into Hawkins College wouldn’t have been easy too, she must’ve worked herself for it, not to mention that she did all that while helping her mom in the bakery. What she deserved was a nice prom memory that Eddie hoped she could cherish.

Eddie’s heart soared when she took his hand with a smile. She gave his suit jacket back to him, saying that he needed to look perfect for their dance, so Eddie took it and wore it again.

But then he tensed for a second, when he realized that he’d never really learned how to dance; he never planned to have one. He didn’t quite know what to do. And she must’ve noticed it because she let out a small giggle, which made him slightly embarrassed. With an understanding look, she grabbed his other hand and rested both hands on her waist, before she put her hands on his shoulders—he softened up instantly.

They started swaying to the faint music. They stared deep into each other’s eyes and in that moment, Eddie realized how pretty she actually was. That wasn’t a brand new thought, he’d been thinking about that since he was thirteen. But he’d never seen her up close like this. Eddie was fighting all the voices in his head that kept telling him that it was okay to shift his gaze down to her lips for a second. “Don’t do something crazy,” he repeated the words in his mind. Because they’d been having a good time so far, this was probably the revival of their friendship, and Eddie wouldn’t let himself ruin that.

“Eddie?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Please never change. Keep being Eddie.”

He slightly raised his eyebrows, feeling quite surprised by her words—he quickly figured that maybe she thought it would be easier or at least comforting if something or someone she knew stayed the same while everything around them changed.

“Okay,” he replied. That was a promise. “You too.” That was all he managed to say, because he could feel one of her hands starting to play with the ends of his curls and that easily made his heartbeat accelerate even more.

“Okay.”

And then she did it. She shifted her gaze to his lips, before looking back at his eyes, but shifted it down to his lips again.

Without a warning, she tiptoed, eyes fluttering close, and brushed her lips against Eddie’s. She kissed him.

Eddie froze as his stomach did the most sickening twist he’d ever felt, his heart felt like it was running up and down his chest, thumping loud in his ears. His eyes fluttered close too as he mustered all the courage he had to answer the kiss.

It was short and sweet. When Eddie opened his eyes again, he found her looking completely flushed, cheeks all red, chest heaving up and down rhythmically; his own breath was just as heavy. He couldn’t read her, he didn’t know what she was thinking. His fear from earlier instantly came back, about this nice moment being ruined. Eddie was pretty sure she kissed him first. Did she regret doing that?

But then the corners of her lips started twitching, and her lips slowly formed a smile. A genuine shy and happy smile. Eddie let out a sigh of relief as he found himself mirroring her smile, realizing that they hadn’t ruined the moment, they’d actually just made it better.

As she kept the smile on her face, her hands traveled down to wrap around his middle, and she leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder. Eddie circled her hands around her back, pulling her closer as they started swaying to the music again.

He had no idea what was happening. He had no idea what the kiss meant, why she’d done it—did she like him? Attracted to him? Or had a crush on him like how he’d always had on her? But Eddie didn’t need the answer now. He just wanted to appreciate the moment because this… This felt nice. Having her in his arms as they slow dance, it was actually really nice.

Eddie had to admit… Prom wasn’t so bad after all.

—

there you go! my second eddie fic!

i honestly really enjoyed writing it and loved how it turned out. hope you enjoyed it too. likes, reblogs, comments, and any feedback will be much appreciated. thank you so much!<3

you can read my first eddie fic here. should i write more?:’D

#sereneddie writes #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things imagines #stranger things one shot #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #imagine #one shots #fanfiction #fanfic #fics

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phoenixrising0308 · 2 years

Text

Our Life Together: The Journey (Part 2): Magnolia

Books: The Royal Romance - Royal Heir

Rating: M (Mature content and implied sexual activities)

Pairing: Liam & Jessica Garcia (MC)

Triggers: Sexual innuendo

Disclaimer

Our Life together timeline: This is still within Agent Phoenix A/U and its stories about Jessica & Liam’s relationship as live-in partners and married life. Character traits don’t always remain the same. Stories using this timeline are meant for challenges or requests. catch up here

Chapter Summary: The future Queen of Cordonia has a heart-to-heart with her mother, the current Queen Consort. This is a companion piece to The Journey, another story written for this challenge.

Chapter Song inspiration: Cover me in sunshine - P!nk

Word Count: 4,000*As always, forgive my typos and grammatical errors.*

Average reading time: 10 minutes

Math Class

He was excited to be in her class this year; it was the advanced class. His mother was the Educational Liaison, and he knew that he had to focus. He couldn’t be distracted, but with her in his class, he was nervous.

He was fifteen and he was starting to have feelings for someone that he thought he shouldn’t. She was popular and everyone wanted to get close to her. Somedays in class, he would find himself staring at her through his thick bifocal glasses. He hoped that maybe she was into them because he hated contacts. He would daydream about her, wondering if she even noticed him in that way. Or noticed him at all other than just a classmate and friend.

He was going to study abroad. If he was selected for the young architect’s program, he would be spending the summer in Italy. The winners were going to be announced at the Spring Gala. He would be going anyway but maybe he could ask her to be his date.

His love of building things came from his father. But he just didn’t want to build things, he wanted to design them. He was worried that if he left, any chance he had would be gone. She would just forget him. So, he decided he would just start bumping into her.

He knew her schedule; his mother developed it. So he got on her laptop and printed it out. Her schedule was that every Wednesday, she had political science at 12 pm taught by Sir. Elton. French afterward taught by Ms. Dubois. There was something that happened monthly, it was called L&L. He wasn’t sure what that meant but he was waiting for it to happen. It occurred on the 8th. But he knew she would be pulled out of class for something on her schedule. It occurred every two weeks on Friday. It was labeled ’Magnolia Day’ the location was his mother’s office.

Her bodyguard came to escort her. She stood up and the class stood on their feet. If you were a male, you bowed your head. If you were a female, you curtsied. You didn’t move an inch until she exited the room. She turned to her class and said, “Thank you. Please excuse me.” She turned to her bodyguard and said, “Tatum, it doesn’t hurt to smile.”

“I’m sorry, your Royal Highness. I will try.” He gave her a soft smile.

Private office- Educational Liaison

“Feel better? Liam told me to keep an eye on you. But you do seem off.”

“I had too many donuts and champagne for my birthday.”

“That was five days ago.”

“Ehh I’m not 25 anymore. Bounce back ain’t wait it used to be. I have a bit of a headache and I’m tired but that’s all. Thanks for letting me use your office. You know how important it is to me. Especially since I lost my mom around this age. I’d never miss it.”

“Of course, Jessie.”

The Liaison walked out.

Lilyana curtsied as she said, “Mommy.” To the woman whose job she would one day take. She could only hope to be just like her.

Jessica smiled at her daughter fondly, “Alright, Mi Muñequita (my little doll) have a seat.”

They both sat down by a window that faced the schoolyard. A servant placed a silver tray before them. It was still in its original packaging. A white paper bag with the store logo “Magnolia Bakery.” Her mother preferred it that way. In the bag were One large Banana pudding, two plastic spoons, and one buttercream cupcake.

“Mom, I’m happy you feel better. I thought you would skip today. You haven’t been feeling well lately. ”

“Nope, never. Don’t worry about me. Besides Daddy is on my case enough about going to the Doctor’s so I will. But enough about me it’s Magnolia day.”

“Mom, did you ever just wonder if a guy liked you? You know like, liked liked you?”

Jessica took a spoonful of pudding and sighed as she swallowed. “His name is Liam Rys. You call him Daddy once known as Shinny man.”

Lilyana’s eyes got wide and said, “Daddy? Really, you didn’t think Daddy didn’t like you?”

“Lil, I felt like I had to yank it out of him. He was really just that shy.” Jessica reminisced of their first night on the boat and how bashful he was. She had to kiss him and frequently assured him all social season she wanted to be with him.

Lilyana looked at her spoonful of pudding in confusion as she thought of just how in-love her parents were. She knew she would always have high standards towards how a boy treats her after seeing how her Dad was with her Mom. But the idea of her mom EVER having to guess her Dad’s affections sounded insane.

She said, “But Daddy always looks at you like you’re the only person in the room!”

Jessica smiled, “And I’m so grateful for that… Lil, I mean, maybe this guy is just shy.”

“What do you mean?”

Jessica smiled at her daughter, “Come on now, future Queen. You’re gonna have an important job someday. You’re pretty, you’re bright, you’re a literal Princess. Boys are bound to get tongue-tied with you.”

“But I’m really just a regular girl.“

“To us, you are. I’m a mom to you and Leigh. I’m a wife to your Dad. I’m an Aunt to your cousins. I’m so many things about Lil. Sometimes, it surprises me when I have to remind myself that even though I’m just Jessica to my family and friends, to Cordonia, I’m their Queen.”

Lilyana sighed and played with her pudding, “Sometimes, the Royal treatment and title gets old…I was going to ask Uncle Leo on L and L day on some tips to not be so royal. Try to, like to, tone it down a notch. I mean Tatum is really on top of me but Uncle Leo escaped a lot.”

Jessica thought to herself, ‘Oh No! Him. Not him.’ Not wanting her loveable train wreck brother-in-law who abdicated giving her impressionable daughter tips of any kind. Liam would have a stroke and he already started freaking out at the touch of gray he spotted in the mirror when she had to kick him out of the bathroom when got sick in the morning.

She reached across the table to place a hand on her daughter’s hand, “Lil, you are who you are and you don’t have to change anything about yourself to be liked! Even being a Princess. It’s a big title until they get to know you for you and see just Lilyana. Then, it just becomes an extra thing. Look at your Dad, he is still Liam to me. I love your Dad very much, Lil. I love him for the things that make him who he is. He is loving, kind, generous, and is so hard-working. I would love him no matter his job. You are still Lilyana and you just happen to be a Princess and someday a Queen Regent. You will lead us; As the first woman to hold the job in a century, as a Latina, and as a woman of color. You think my mother left Puerto Rico to dumb it down for a man. No, she didn’t. She didn’t teach me that either. You are going to shatter a few glass ceilings and my job as your mother is to give you the hammer. Never change yourself for anyone just to be liked. If someone can’t accept you for who you and what you will become they don’t deserve you. Be you, always be you.”

Lilyana shook her head, “I get Mom. I don’t want him to think that I’m not interested because he isn’t nobility.”

Jessica put her spoon down with a raised brow, “Do you want to tell me? Or am I going to have to wait till our next Magnolia day?”

“Well… promise me you won’t laugh. You know him.” Lilyana bit her lip and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

“Lil, I would never laugh at you. I’m happy that you can come to me.” Jessica reassured with a warm smile.

“Okay, so I have these feelings about…A friend.”

Jessica smirked and tapped the table, “Shut up! Jack-Jack!”

Lilyana blushed and looked down at the table.

Jessica smiled and tried not to have an embarrassing mom moment about her daughter’s crush but it was too precious to her not to aw at.

“I’m speechless! Lil, he is SO cute. Love the glasses. His mom picked them.”

Lilyana groaned and slumped in her chair, "I just don’t want to embarrass myself by being too obvious and I know Tío Mateo would tell me to let him make the first move, Tío Adam would tell me to sit next to him at lunch, Aunt Hana would tell me to make him a card, and Aunt Olivia would tell me to beat him in gym class and if he can accept my victory in public AHHHH it’s pointless…He seems like he doesn’t even notice me. What should I do?”

Jessica smiled and said, “Just be yourself and I’m sure Jack-Jack will feel the same.“

“Really?”

“Absolutely. Now take half of the cupcake or the whole thing is mine.”

Liam and Jessica’s Bedroom

Liam laid on the bed with a book in his hand with his glasses on as he watched his wife get ready for bed.

“Hey Love, how was Magnolia day?”

Jessica slipped a nightgown on her and walked over to her husband, giving him a kiss as he snapped the book closed. She grinned at him, “Very empowering and she confessed.”

Liam took a deep breath and said, “Drake said he caved too. So, what do we do?”

Jessica finished getting ready for bed as she said, “I think we just let it play out. He is a sweet boy, we have known him forever. Jack-Jack is considerate, he can be a quiet kid, he has never gotten into trouble his whole life. I couldn’t pick a better boy for Lil.”

Liam did not feel the same, “Jessica. I was a quiet one too. I’m sending her away! I would die of a broken heart but it’s necessary. Until then she won’t be going to the hedge maze and NO way is she going to the Walker ranch again. EVER! Bianca is beside herself with the possibilities. Why aren’t you out there with a telescope and doing something about this!? You have my access code go to the armory and take what you need. STOP IT THIS!”

Jessica chuckled as she got into bed, "Liam, stop.” She teased before cuddling up to him, “She is a good girl and a smart girl and he’s a good kid…She’s got to grow up eventually.”

“Yeah, when she’s 21…Actually, 25. You know what just let me die.”

Jessica kissed him and he deflated. He said, “I know. I just don’t like the idea of her dating.”

“He’s Jack-Jack. Still the little boy you would carry over your shoulders, still the boy you would take to the museum and still the boy that runs over to watch the Michael Bublé Christmas special with you.”

“He’s a boy. A teenage boy! Who could sing! He is fully aware of his body and what he would like to do to her with it. He is probably in his room just thinking about her and I can’t even say it.” Liam punched his wife’s pillow shocked that she wasn’t upset 'Motherhood has made you soft. I want my cop wife to come out of retirement.’

“Liam…Did you do anything as a teen? The type of thing you’re thinking about?”

Liam hesitated, “It’s soooo different I wasn’t supposed to have this job besides Isabelle was horrible I regretted it. Then there were a few do-overs with her. It never got better then I tried my luck a couple of girls… and then there was you and that was the end of that.”

“Okay, when you first met me. You were a grown man and I had to kiss YOU.”

Liam smirked, “That’s changed.” As he planted kisses down Jessica’s neck. She smiled and hummed in her throat before saying, “Point being, you were a good kid and became a gentleman and Jack-Jack will do the same.”

Liam stopped kissing and rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh, “Fine, but they will NOT be left alone for too long at a time.”

“Of course but I don’t think we have to worry about that for a while.”

Jessica turned and bit her lip and said, “I love it when you wear glasses BUT.” she gently removed them from his face. And Liam turned off his reading light. And turned his attention to his wife.

School

A week went by and Jackson grew more and more nervous as time went by. The Spring Gala was next week away but he feared every day he waited, he risked another more popular boy to swooping in her accepting their offer. She seemed to always attract every boy’s attention without trying and she ignored them all. If she ignored them, then he feared he had no hope at all.

He tried to talk to her but the stupidest ideas came out of his mouth. Today, he wanted to ask her to the gala and somehow he ended up asking for a pencil when he had one in his hand already…He wanted to crawl in a hole as she simply just smiled at him and asked if he felt well.

Walker Palace Quarters

“Hey Kid, what’s wrong?” Drake greeted his son at the door of their home and the boy shriveled up with a frown.

“Dad, I can’t ask her. Every time I try, something stupid comes out of my mouth!”

Drake wasn’t the most emotional or expressive man but he couldn’t help a slight smile towards his boy.

“You’re young, it happens. But you’ll never know until you ask her. What is the worst thing that could happen?”

“She could laugh at me or tell me I’m gross or tell everyone I’m a weirdo or-”

Drake placed a hand on his shoulder, “Stop. You’re starting to sound like a teenage Liam. I would throw things at him to get him to stop. Is that what I got to do to you? Even though that did work and then I had to throw things at Garcia so he could have a reason to talk to her. Please don’t make me throw things at my niece.”

“Dad, be serious.” He whined as Drake shook his shoulder to snap him out of it. Drake replied, “I always am.” He sighed and continued, “Jack-Jack, you know her, you’ve known her entire life. It feels like when I just met her and held her in my arms. You guys were together all the time. I remember having to stop you, Lil, and Uncle Leo from drawing on the walls at the capitol with red crayons that he gave you both! Or watching you two peeling chicky nuggets in front of the TV. Now, would she really do that to you?”

Jackson Jr. thought about it. He thought of her kind blue eyes, her warm smile, her disposition.

“…no, I guess she wouldn’t do that.”

Drake let go of his shoulder and said, “Alright, the worst she could say is no.”

“But…What if she is creeped out and doesn’t want to talk to me again?”

Drake huffed, “You’re both 15, you’ll both chalk it up as a crush you used to have and move on and another girl will come along.”

“Do you think she would really say yes?”

Drake shrugged, “You look at me and I am pretty fucken good looking. I think she will.”

Drake grew silent a moment before saying, “Son…Have we had… The talk?”

Jackson jr. covered his face, “God, Dad!”

“Hey, I don’t feel like me and Liam getting into it because you two got too handsy or an accident happened because you’re a dumb horny teen. She is a good girl and you have to know-”

“STOP. Please, Dad. I haven’t even kissed anyone yet!! Besides, Mom already covered that in 9th grade. She made a few comments about Aunt Sav that I thought was pretty funny yet savage at the same time.”

Drake huffed in relief, “Thank God. I don’t want to have that talk any more than you do.”

“Then why bring it up?!”

“I had to know you two aren’t going to get busy at this age, that’s why. I will ground you forever if you do anything at all at this age especially with Garcia and Liam’s little girl. Her Uncle’s one is a Duke and let’s forget the other one with a whole armory at his disposal at Lythikos with whatever fuck he has going on with Olivia. You’re a hormonal teen boy and people can get caught up in the moment, the least you can do is know about con-”

Jackson covered his face as his glasses fogged from the heat of his face, “Urgh…Am I excused from this conversation? PLEASE?”

Drake nodded urgently with a groan and pinched his nose bridge, “Yeah, yeah get the hell out of here.”

Jackson went to go to his room but Drake stopped him, “Hey kid, why not surprise her with something? Think of something she is into and show her how much you noticed by surprising her with it before asking her.”

He thought and nodded, a small smile forming. “Thanks, Dad mind if I ask you a few questions?”

School

Lilyana constantly talked to Jackson and vice versa but it was always about such mundane things that it disappointed her. All of last week went by with him avoiding her, getting quiet, asking for things that didn’t make sense.

'Maybe he really doesn’t like you? Maybe he knows you like him and it’s weird now? The idea made her stomach sink. It was now Thursday, the day before her Magnolia Day with her Mom. Spring Gala was coming up and she had turned down so many boy’s offers’s hoping Jackson would ask her.

'Mommy would tell me. I don’t need a guy to take me. I can go by myself. Yes, I can go by myself. Pff I’m badass like my mom. You don’t like me OH WELL. She thought as she got her book bag ready next to Tatum.

She suddenly heard someone behind her that Tatum didn’t stop knowing it was a friend. She turned to see a flustered Jackson and her face lit up.

“L-Lilyana?”

“Hi, Jack.” She smiled and he smiled back.

“Um…” He wrung his hands. He had been acting so strange lately, she wondered if it was a bad thing.

“Yes?”

“Would you…I have something to show you. But my Mom or someone will have to take us there after school…If you want to, that is!”

“Oh, Sure. I’d love to. Let me just ask Mom and Dad-”

Tatum smiled and said, “No need, your Highness. Your parents told me this was okay to do as long as I go with you of course on the ride. In fact, I’ll drive.”

Lilyana looked surprised but nodded. Tatum drove her many places, it was a part of his duty. The strange part was her parents already agreeing.

“Oh…Okay then.” She awkwardly giggled and Jackson did the same as they got ready to go.

The ride was awkward. Lilyana saw him nervously shaking his leg as she tried to make small talk. She opted for glancing out the window, wondering if it was some special day she forgot about and Jack was just the messenger. Tatum escorted her out of the car and to the building with a round roof. She was pleasantly surprised to see them enter a building that she had never been before but always wanted to go to.

“An observatory?”

He nodded, “Yeah…I know you always liked the stars so I decided this would be a neat place…Is it?”

Lilyana beamed, “Are you kidding?! I love it!”

They went inside and Tatum merely stood to watch at the door, the area already cleared.

She instantly went to an astronomy chart to look at a few constellations. She gasped as they entered the room further with blackened windows at the top but a projector as well that projected the room in shimmering stars all around them.

Then, it hit her.

“Wait…Jack, was this your idea?”

He nodded shyly.

“But why? I was starting to think…Well, that you didn’t like me anymore or something.”

Jackson looked surprised, “What? No! I just…I was just really nervous. I’m sorry.”

Lilyana waited, hope rising in her as he looked at her. He mumbled, “I…I wanted to ask you to the Spring Gala. If you say no, then I get it! Just…Please don’t think we can’t be friends anymore.”

“What? Why would I ever think that?”

Jackson blushed deeply, “Well…Because I…I sort of…Like you.” He looked down and like he wanted to run and hide. Lilyana blushed herself as butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She shyly tucked her hair behind her ear and looked at the ground herself.

“O-oh…How long have you?-”

“Since we were 7.”

Lilyana smiled to herself as Jackson nervously waited. She said, “I…Like you too.”

“You do?” He looked shocked as she giggled and nodded.

“Yeah, I just thought you didn’t like me anymore because maybe you knew and thought it was weird because I’m a princess and you know like the future Queen.”

“No way! It’s really cool. Actually, we haven’t had one in a long time. I personally know the next Queen. We shared crayons, who gets to say that? A woman leading Cordonia I love the idea! I dare anyone say anything about it your dad would flip and so would your mom and my dad. I mean, you’re…You. I didn’t think you even liked me like that at all. I’m not…I’m not a Prince and-”

Lilyanna bit her lip as he rambled and felt so nervous and excited she might throw up but quickly decided to rush over and peck his cheek to silence any doubt. She drew back her lips just as quickly as it was planted, beyond shy but eager to let him know she had a crush on him too.

“Jack…I’m Lil. I’m not a Princess when I’m with you. That’s what I like about you is that you treated me like a normal girl. I mean…You knew I love the stars just like my parents and it was my favorite thing growing up. No other boy knows that. And you went out of your way to show me…Thanks.”

Jackson’s eyes were wide behind his glasses as he touched the cheek she kissed. He grinned widely, “So is that a yes?”

Lilyana laughed and nodded before stepping back towards him. “Yes, I’d love to be your date to the spring gala. I’ve…Kind of been waiting for you to ask for awhile.”

The teens gazed at each other before Jackson took a leap of faith and gently kissed her. Lilyanna tilted her head as they both gave a quick, awkward, sweet kiss.

“See now you get to say you were the future Queen’s first kiss.”

—-

“YES! That’s my fucken kid!” Drake beamed with pride behind the glass in the room as Jessica and Drake’s wife awed at them. She turned to Jessica and said, “Stargazing is a classic.” Jessica said, “It’s so good.” Liam didn’t know how to feel. He accepted it but he was watching them like a hawk. He thought to himself 'Lil that was your first and last kiss. You are your mother’s daughter. Once we started we didn’t stop. We are still going at it. So NO!’

The teens pulled away blushing and smiling as they busied themselves looking at the stars.

“Oh My God look! Awww, they’re so cute together. Oh god, they are holding hands!!” Jessica awed at them as she laid her head on Liam’s shoulder.

Liam sighed with an ache in his chest, “It’s so hard seeing her grow up.” ‘Drake and the damn stars. I know just how many times that worked. Now, this can do it anytime with fake stars! Pffff. It’s time to call in reinforcements.’

Jessica saw the wheels on her husband’s head-turning. Jessica rubbed his arm and held him close.

—

Magnolia Day

Jessica acted like she didn’t know anything but Lilyana was on cloud nine.

“Wow, you’re in a good mood for pudding.”

Lilyana beamed at her mom, “He asked me to be his date to the gala.”

Jessica grinned and acted surprised, “He did? Did you say yes?”

“Yes.”

Jessica smiled, “Oh Lil, that’s wonderful! Aw, you two are going to be so cute! We are getting as many pictures as possible.”

“He…We kissed…Don’t tell Daddy, he’ll be so mad.”

Jessica gasped with a grin, “Lil, you did? How was it?”

Lilyanna shrugged, “It was…Nice. His glasses bumped me in the nose. They fogged up a bit too.”

Jessica laughed and took a spoonful of pudding, “ Yea I’ve been there with Daddy. It takes time. I remember one time he was so excited to kiss me he cut my mouth but to be fair it was a while since the last time we kissed. And even after all these years when he wears his and we kiss they still fog up. Both you’re both new at it.” Jessica had tears in her eyes.

Lilyana smiled, “Mommy, don’t cry.”

“I know, I know. You’re just growing up faster than I ever imagined.”

“I love you.”

Jessica gave a tender smile and held her daughter’s in her hands just as her mother used to. “I love you too, Mi Muñequita.” Jessica took a deep breath and said, “So it’s my turn to tell you something. I’m worried about it.”

Lilyana’s eyes got wide, “Mom, did results come back?”

—

Maze Garden

“Congrats! So Italy, how do you feel?”

“Lil, I’m gonna miss you.”

“Jack, I’m not going anywhere. I will be here when you get back.”

Jackson took a deep breath and was trying to find the words when all of a sudden a spotlight blinded him.

“Take it easy there Casanova. I want to see your hands.” Leo walked over to the couple with an oversized flashlight

Mateo held a shiny object that reflected in the light “I heard you like to sing. I think I can get you to sing higher notes if I just flicked my wrist with this dragger.”

Adam walked over with a baseball bat from his hiding spot.

Jackson bowed his head “Duke Asterford.”

Adam said, “Yea I don’t give a shit about titles. It seems like you were gonna ask our niece to be your girlfriend. I don’t know how I feel about that Mateo, how do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know. I mean did you ask one of us? ” Mateo pointed to himself, his brother, and Leo.

Then Mateo let out a whistle and said “ Pana (buddy) did this kid ask your permission?”

Liam walked from behind the well holding a polo mallet “No. No. He did not.”

Mateo admired the design on the blade looking at it as he spoke, “You see Drakey Jr. you got to ask her Papi (Daddy). Always the daddy first. I mean I can always talk to YOUR dad I never settled the score over the cake he threw in my face.”

Lilyana shouted “Daddy! You’re spying on me!? Wait Tío is the Zenobia’s -”

Mateo looked at the dagger in his hand and said, “Yes, Rubí (Ruby) let me borrow it.”

Liam swung his polo mallet and pointed it at Jackson. “YOU!”

“You have a polo mallet!” Lilyana shouted

“Lil, I’m prepared. ANYTHING can happen in the maze garden. ANYTHING. Could be a terrorist or a teenager.”

Leo pointed to Jackson and said, “Who do you think taught your father? Then he pointed to Lilyana and then said “father to stargaze!? But you’re fucken smarter than all of us with a fucken projector. Why the fuck didn’t I think of that shit? Man, all the -.”

Mateo interrupted “El otero (the other one) We don’t give a shit right now about the -”

Adam clapped his hands “Hey. Focus!”

Jackson collected his thoughts and remembered the script he practiced with his Aunt the Queen. When he asked her if she wouldn’t mind them dating.“Te pido perdón, nunca fue mi intención ofenderte.” (I ask you for your forgiveness. It was never my intention to offend you.) Jackson paused and then he added his own words “Lil, is her own person it’s the reason I like her so much she is witty, funny, and she keeps me guessing. I’m not intimidated by her at all. It’s kind of like how you feel about Aunt Jessie. She wasn’t like all the girls you met; she was a thinker. I would like the future Queen of Cordonia to be my girlfriend.

Lilyana smiled “I would like that Jack. I would like that a lot.”

Mateo looked at Liam and said, “Fuck man, you are sleeping on the couch you know that right?”

Leo picked up his phone “Sorry my wife is calling me gotta go.”

Liam rolled his eyes and said, “Leo your phone didn’t even ring.”

“We just have they type of relationship. You know soulmates. I’m not digging my grave for you. Goodnight and good luck.” Leo quickly exited the maze.

“Damn Liam. I’m sorry but it’s every man for himself right now.” Adam sighed. “Listen, I can have Hana try to calm her down. Maybe you’re only on the couch for a night or two but I can’t make any promises man.”

Liam threw his polo mallet on the ground and looked at Jackson. “I’m watching you! Nothing below the neck. NOTHING! I’m no pendejo (idiot) Jack-Jack! I will know. ” He turned to his brothers-in-law and said, “God, she knows me.” Then stormed off like a child.

—

Liam and Jessica’s Bedroom.

Jessica sat in bed as Liam collected a pillow and a blanket. Flustered by Jackson’s wingman.

“Jess, you know where to find me.”

“Liam.”

“You want to come to bed, or so you want to sulk?”

“Jack-Jack is shoving his tongue down our daughter’s throat now. I will sulk until I die. Grrr. The face Jackson gave me like yeah I’m gonna score with your daughter. You just wait Uncle Liam.”

Jessica laughed “No. He didn’t you are so dramatic Liam. Jessica tapped the bed

Liam looked at himself in the mirror and combed his hair with his fingers. “Jess, I have gray hair. My daughter is dating a boy. Our son’s voice is starting to crack so then I’m gonna have to talk to him before Leo does.” Liam threw himself on the bed “Love everything is happening so fast.” He covered his face with his hands.

“So it sounds like you’re overwhelmed so I will table it and tell you another time.”

Liam turned to his wife and said, “Tell me what?”

Jessica smiled “What are you doing on November 28th?”

“Jess, I don’t even know what I’m doing tomorrow other than super cereal Sunday with the kids and you.” Liam did a quick calculation and said, “November is like nine moments from now”

Jessica smiled at her husband “Yea it’s nine months from now.”

Liam’s eyes got wide “WAIT! Jess. Oh my God, Love.”

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baileyjane3769 · 20 days

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Original Copy is on Quotev, for a better viewing experience and chapter by chapter reading head on over to my Quotev page @BobbyWolf3769 or click the link here

***

When a game is over and all hidden things have been found, what is there left to do? Move on. That's what you would have liked to have done after finishing the disappointing secret ending of a popular otome game. But when the story is over, and all things were said and done, you find yourself trapped in that very game. Faced with the task to keep everyone alive, can you make it to the end without falling in love?

Long read ahead

Chapter Eight

Schoolyard Brawl

Pins and needles. That is how you would describe the feeling that you’ve had ever since Makino showed up for class, like you were sitting on pins and needles. Anxiously, you were waiting for the time where Makino would be alone. The game never specified what time it was where she died, all you know for certain is that she disappeared half way through the school day and was found dead later on. You had a guess on when exactly it took place, ‘Lunch time is the only time where Akui could have killed Makino and cleaned it up without anyone suspecting it was him. If he did it during a class then he would have been questioned as to why he was absent for a class around the same time Makino died. It has to be lunch time, it’s the only time that makes sense.’

With a set time frame in mind, you found it even harder to concentrate during class, and it didn’t help that you were already struggling to grasp the concept of most of the subjects. Your eyes would either shift from the clock, heart rate increasing as the minutes ticked by, to Makino, sneaking glances at her ever so often. You couldn’t help it, whether someone dies or not is left all up to you, your nerves were shot, and it only got worse as lunch time drew closer.

During each class period leading up to lunch, you made sure to pay close attention to where Makino was, and your distractedness led to you appearing more airheaded than before, worrying many of your classmates, especially Yuki.

When lunch time finally rolled around, you had an excuse ready as to why you couldn’t eat lunch with Yuki, but Akihiko beat you to the punch. He approached you first, before Yuki could, and he had something he wanted to say.

“L/n-san, may I have a word with you for a moment?” he asked.

Taken aback by his sudden approach, any excuse you might have had suddenly left your brain. “Ah-Fukumoto-san, I’m not so sure about that. Y-you see I have to get going, a-and I am gonna be busy.” Unconsciously, your eyes flickered over to Makino’s form before they quickly retracted by to Akihiko. For the moment she seemed stationary.

It seems he caught your stare, because he turned to look at Makino for a brief moment. “Can those plans wait? It is very important that I discuss something with you.” It seems he wasn’t gonna take no for an answer.

Sneaking one more glance over at Makino, you decided to follow him because you didn’t want to make a scene. “Okay, if you say so…”

Stepping out into the empty hallway, Akihiko led you over to a more secluded corner, just a little ways from the classroom door. His sudden need to speak with you left you with a feeling of unease, not only because you were leaving Makino alone but also because you had no idea what he could want to talk to you about.

“So you said you had something to say?” you asked after a small silence.

Akihiko let out a sigh, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, several of our classmates have come up to me and expressed their worry for you.”

Taken aback by the news you say, “Me?”

He nodded his head. “Yes, they say that you seem more fidgety than usual, and I can’t say I haven’t noticed it either.” He stared you dead in the eyes as he said, “I have also picked up on the fact that you are constantly glancing at Makino-san.”

Feeling like a child who was caught with their hand in the cookie jar, you stubbled to say an excuse. “I-I have a reason for that! I can assure you that–that, it’s not what you think–”

He held up a hand to stop your ramblings. “No need to explain, I can assure you that she won’t be posing a threat to you anymore.”

“Yes, well–wait, what?”

“I know it can be hard to sit in the same room as the person who assaulted you, and you did go through a traumatic experience, so it is understandable that you would be more apprehensive than normal.” Akihiko said, pushing his glasses up and looking thoughtful.

‘Pose a threat? Traumatic experience? What is he–Oooh… They all think that I’m afraid of Makino. I can't blame them, really, I haven’t been as composed as I thought I was.’ You coughed into your hand, trying to clear up the tension on your end. “Yes, I guess you would be correct. Ever since what happened, she really has been worrying me. I thought I could handle it but then she walked into the classroom and suddenly I felt floored,” you said, thinking ‘I might as well play along with them. At the very least it gives me an excuse.’

“So it is as I thought, I must say this isn’t the first time that she has behaved like this, and I feel partly responsible as the only reason she does this is because of a crush she has on me,” Akihiko said, thoughtfully.

You blinked in confusion saying, “Wait, so you know she has a crush on you, Fukumoto-san?”

The topic seemed to peeve Akihiko as he scowled slightly. “Yes, well, she doesn’t do a very good job at hiding it.”

“Have you said anything to her about it?”

Shaking his head no, he said, “I have not because I see no reason to. She has yet to come forward and do so herself, and I see no reason to approach her about the topic.” Akihiko seemed to ponder for a moment before saying, “Though it seems that I will eventually have to confront her myself, if this is how she will keep acting.”

After taking in his words, you ask, “You said she has done similar things before, Fukumoto-san, what did you mean by that.”

In response, Akihiko signed before replying. “She and I both went to the same private middle school, and there I heard of many instances of her bullying the other students, more specifically the female students. She wasn’t very covert about it and would often get into trouble, but she has never gone so far as to hospitalize a fellow student.” With a hand on his temples, shaking his head in disappointment, he continued to say “I figured she would grow out of it as we left middle school and entered high school, but it seems she is still stuck in her childish ways.”

“Right, yeah, that can be difficult. But, uh–” You stopped mid sentence, noticing a teary-eyed Makino watching the two of you from around the corner. The two of you locked eyes, where she proceeded to send you a scathing glare before she turns and runs off. Panic filled you as you hastily excuse yourself. “Yes, well, thank you for worrying but I have to go now, lunch and all that, bye!” Not bothering to wait for a reply, you scurry off in the direction that you saw Makino go.

Each time you turn a corner you are only able to catch a small glance of her long brown hair whipping behind another corner, just barely giving you time to assess the direction that she is going. As you went to follow her, you were faced with an unexpected burden that you didn’t realize you had. ‘My hip,’ you think. ‘Gosh darn it, my hip is sore. I’m not running at my best!’ You didn’t realize how much your fall affected you until you needed to run the most, a sore and bruised hip making you hobble.

Much to your chagrin, you ended up losing sight of Makino down a deserted hallway. ‘No no no no no, no! I can’t lose her, what if she runs into Akui? Where is Akui? Did he stay with Yuki, or is he out here looking for Makino too?’ Coming to a stop, you try to catch your breath and calm your mind. ‘Okay, just keep calm. Panicking will get me nowhere.’ After a quick glance around your surroundings you notice a water fountain. ‘Maybe a drink of water will help calm me down,’ you think, making your way over to it. You lean down to take a quick sip, completely oblivious to the fact that you are the equivalent to a gazel at a watering hole.

Suddenly, you let out a horrible shriek as you were yanked back by your hair. “Ow! What the heck-” a slap to the face cut you off. Your perpetrator let go of your hair, and you stammered back with a pained grimace on your face. There was no longer a reason to find where Makino went because, as you turn around to confront the person, you discover it was Makino who pulled your hair.

“Makino-san? What's your deal?!” you angrily shouted, massaging your now sore head.

Makino’s face held a scornful one, face glossy from tears. “What’s my deal? I should be asking you that! Following me around after you were talking smack about me to Akihiko-kun!” she yelled, taking an aggressive step towards you. “What? Did you follow me to rub in the fact that my crush thinks I’m such a child? Ha! … Ha ha, ahahahah!” Hunched over, Makino let out an uncontrollable laughter.

Disturbed by her sudden fit of laughter, you tried backing up in case you needed to make a run for it, you had a sense that this was not gonna end well. “What the heck, Makino, you’re scaring me…”

Her laughter seized, looking up through her disheveled locks, Makino stared wide-eyed at you. “Scared? Wha-what’s there to be scared of, L/n-chan…” She ended her sentence with a quiet, maniacal, giggle. “Oh, that’s right… you’re scared I will put you back into the hospital. Hahahah! Come on, there’s–hey, hey!” She took notice of your slowly retreating form.

As you were about to turn and run for it, Makino instantly grabbed your sprained hand, wrenching you backwards. You let out another pained shriek, stumbled and almost fell, the searing pain making you weak in the knees, but the pain didn’t stop you from grabbing at Makino with your one good hand, trying to stop her. “Ah! Let me go!” You pushed and grabbed at her face, at one point you even managed to scratch at it.

“OW! You little bit–”

You cut Makino off with a jab to her side, causing her to stagger back slightly. Taking the chance, you try to make another dash for escape and hopefully alert an authoritarian figure. You didn’t get far, though, as Makino was able to recover and grab ahold of you. The sudden jerk to your arm caused you to stumble, leading to the both of you to fall to the ground.

“Arg! You tramp!” Makino yelled, scampering to climb on top of you. “What? Aki-kun wasn’t enough for you, so you had to go and throw yourself at Kaneko-kun too!” she yelled, starting to beat up on you. She punched and pulled your hair, all of your attempts to kick her off were futile and only served to frustrate her more.

“Get off me you psychotic lunatic!” You shouted through choked out sobs, desperately trying to block her punches.

“Shut it you floozy! You attention seeking harlot!” yelled Makino. “It must be so easy for a person like you to gain people’s attention. I desperately try everyday to gain the attention I want,” she hit you again. “and the one time my parents actually cared enough to check in on me is because I got in trouble, because of you!” Reaching up, she yanked on the stitches that had kept your wound together.

A horrendous, and pained, scream left your lips at the same time you felt a gush of warm, thick blood run down the side of your face. The blinding pain seemed to paralyze you.

“I bet you loved it when all those people’s attention was on you! I bet you even got hurt on purpose!” At her own delusional realization, she started laughing again. “HAhaha! Of course you did! Well here, if that is how you want to be then let me help you out!” Makino began to feverishly scratch at your face. When she felt like that was enough she began to pull at your hair. “Who would look at you now! Hahhahaha!”

After coming to your senses slightly, you managed to shove Makino away from you. You lurch to try and run again, but your delirium prevented you from doing so, you were only able to clumsily try and stagger to your feet.

“Aurgh!! You ungrateful hussy! Get back here!” Grabbing you by the ankle, she yanked you back down to the ground. Straddling your waist once again, her hands found their way around your neck. “Why do you have everything that I want! Can’t people just love me as well?!” She delusionally yelled, hands constricting tighter.

You gasped and wiggled around trying to free yourself from her clutches. When that failed you grabbed ahold of her hands to try and detach them from your neck, but your strength was failing you as you found it harder, and harder to breath.

“M-Ma-kin-o…”

Just as you felt yourself begin to lose consciousness, you heard a deep, angry voice yell out, “What the–Hey! Get off of her!” The weight of Makino was suddenly, and rather roughly, lifted off of you.

You let out a loud gasp as your lungs were finally able to take in oxygen. You huffed and panted, trying your best to steady your breathing. Glancing up through tear glossed eyes, you can faintly make out charcoal-black hair and ruby-red eyes. There was only one character that you knew off who had red eyes like that. Your hero, this time around, was none other than Matsumura Ryōta, the delinquent with a heart of gold.

Makino was shouting and yelling profanities, trying to wiggle out of Ryōta’s grasp. It seemed he was holding her back by the back of her uniform.

Now that Ryōta had put a stop to Makino’s assault, it seemed that everyone decided to show up. A few teachers rounded the corner, with a few of your fellow schoolmates following after, and were able to bear witness to the atrocious scene.

“What in the world is going on here?!” One teacher demanded. The students around them gasped and shrunk back at the sight of you, bloody and bruised with tears streaming down your face. Witnessing the situation out of context, many of them were quick to point the blame at Ryōta.

“Matsumura-san! What have you done?!” The same teacher yelled.

Dumbfounded, but not all that surprised, Ryōta said. “I didn’t do anything! It was this chick who was trying to strangle the other one.”

“What nonsense are you speaking?” They didn’t believe him, despite the scathing Makino he held back, and the whispers amongst the students grew.

“Look at what he did to L/n-san.”

“Did he really beat up a girl?”

“Scary!”

Now that you had a moment to calm down, you staggered to stand so you could defend Ryōta. “No! You have it all wrong, Matsumura-kun saved me!” You swayed slightly, going to stand in front of him. “Makino was the one who attacked me, I would probably be dead if it wasn’t for him!”

The crowd hushed at your sudden outburst, silencing falling amongst them, even Ryōta was stunned into silence. Before anyone could say anything else, Makino managed to break away from Ryōta and made a run for it. However, she didn’t get far as a few of the teachers managed to apprehend her before she got far. With the perpetrator restrained, the remaining teachers went up to check on you and to bring you to the nurse’s office.

After the nurse deemed you to be in good health and the teachers finished their interrogation, and after a quick phone call to your mother, you found yourself seated in the principal's office. With an ice pack held up to your neck, you were sitting rather uncomfortably in a chair as your mother let every adult present have it.

“This is the second time this week that my daughter has found herself attacked by this wretched girl!”

“Hey, watch your mouth about my daughter!” Makino’s mother retaliated, her father remained quiet.

“My daughter was in the hospital because of what your daughter did! And now she will probably have to go back because she tried to strangle her! I want justice!”

Makino’s mother scoffed. “How can we even be so sure that it was my daughter who started the fight, from what I heard your daughter was the one following her.”

“All my daughter wanted to do was check up on her after she saw her run away, crying. Besides, your daughter was the one who tried to run away from the scene, an innocent person doesn’t run,” your mother countered. “My daughter has a sprained wrist and sometimes can barely think properly because of trauma she sustained to her head, is it even logical to say that she would openly pick a fight?” Before Makino’s mother could retaliate any further, your mother held up her hand to silence her. “Yamamoto-sensei,” at his name, the principal turned to give his attention to your mother. “I expect there to be a more severe punishment than the slap on the wrist she got last time. We have an eye witness saying he had to forcefully remove that girl before she choked my daughter to death!” she pointed an accusatory finger at Makino. “Believe me when I say that I will be pressing charges.” Your mother’s face was stern and left no room for argument.

Makino’s mother looked flabbergasted. “Pressing charges! I hardly think–”

“That’s enough, Nanami.” Makino’s father finally spoke up. “I’m afraid this time there is nothing we can say.”

“But out daughter–”

“Needs to face the consequences of her own actions. She should have known better than to let her emotions steer her in the direction of violence, especially over a matter as petty as a crush.” He sent a very disapproving look towards Makino.

When everything was said and done, Makino was expelled from Kibou High school, and you were excused from attending school for the rest of the week, to rest and recover. Regarding what happened to Makino afterwards, well, all you really know is that she was expelled. After that day, her parents wouldn't say anything else on the matter and instead chose to settle in court. They ended up paying you forty million yen for assault and battery, emotional distress, and medical bills. Honestly, you think Makino needs to be psychiatrically evaluated, but you don’t voice your opinion.

You didn’t get to see Yuki afterwards. When you were finally able to leave the school, your mother and father rushed you back to the hospital, where your cut had to be restitched, and your sprain turned into a light fracture, so now you wear a green cast. In other news, you now had a restraining order against Makino that made it so she can’t stand within eight hundred feet of you.

When you get home that night, it is two a.m. and you're exhausted, so you go to bed, relieved to have prevented Makino’s death. Everything else can wait until tomorrow morning.

***

A/n: Is it obvious yet that I don't reread my chapters before posting them? Because I don't. I write each chapter in google docs before post them here on Quotev. The auto correct and grimmer correct normally does the job for me as I write but sometimes it doesn't catch everything and when I reread my chapters after I post them I pick up on the errors that are left behind. I'll probably need to get into the habit of reading over before I post so that this doesn't happen but for now I am gonna have to make some edits to previous chapters. With that, this concludes the first arc of the story, the prologue. For now, the reader thinks that none of the actions she did will have any effect on the plot, but is that really the case? I would also like to point out that, in the originally timeline of the game, Makino died by strangulation from Akui after the two got into a heated argument. Akui confronted Makino about her bullying Yuki and she said some rather distasteful things that angered Akui, leading him to snap and kill her in a blind rage. The scene of Makino attacking the reader is almost a direct parallel to that. That is a little easter egg for you guys, though I doubt anyone would be able to pick it up. I hope everyone has a blessed day, and if you can then enjoy the solar eclipse for me because I won't be able to. I will see you guys in the next update.

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tallmantall · 3 months

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James Donaldson on Mental Health - Kids Who Need a Little Help to Make Friends

What parents can do when kids struggle with social skills Photo by Lukas on Pexels.com Clinical Experts: Jamie Howard, PhD , Mary Rooney, PhD , Rachel Busman, PsyD, What You'll Learn - Why is it hard for some kids to make friends? - Can parents help kids make friends? - What are social skills and social scripts? - Quick Read - Full Article - Building social skills - Practice during playdates - Helping shy kids - Every child is different Back to Top Quick Read Friendships are important to children. If your kid is having a hard time fitting in, there are ways you can help your child make friends. Social skills don’t come naturally to all kids, especially those with ADHD. Impulsive and hyperactive children often act in ways that make it hard to have friends. They can have trouble taking turns and controlling their anger when they don’t get their way. Inattentive kids may act flighty or not know how to join in. You can help kids make friends by coaching them at home. Talk about taking turns and sharing. Try using role-playing to practice different ways to handle disagreements. You can also demonstrate good behavior when you talk to family and your own friends. If your child needs more help, you can try “social scripts.” These are everyday conversations that your child can practice with you. They are especially helpful for children on the autism spectrum. Practicing will help them learn things like making eye contact and responding to other people’s moods. Your child’s doctor or behavioral therapist can help you select scripts and give you advice on how to rehearse them. You can also set up playdates to help your kid make friends. Before the other child comes over, talk about what to do. Have your child pick out a few games and go over how to tell whether their guest is having fun. If your child is shy, you can give them the chance to meet kids in a way that’s comfortable for them. This could be playdates at your house or through a club or activity. And remember, kids need just one or two good friends. They don’t need to be the most popular kid in their class. Every parent knows schoolyard friendships are important. Friends enrich our lives, boost our self-esteem, and provide the moral support we need when we’re memorizing multiplication tables. Developmentally speaking, making a friend in school is every bit as important as getting an A. Learning how to form successful peer relationships is a critical skill for kids, and one that they will be using—and refining—all their lives. But some kids have a harder time fitting in. Cornerstones of childhood interaction, like sharing a toy or engaging in make-believe, might elude them. While parents can’t make friends for their children, they can help them develop and practice key social skills. If you see your child struggling to make friends or getting rejected by other kids, here are some steps you can take to help. Building social skills Social skills don’t come naturally to all kids. Impulsive and hyperactive children often act in ways that stymie their strong desire for friendship, notes Mary Rooney, PhD, a psychologist who has worked with many children with ADHD. They often have trouble taking turns and controlling their anger when they don’t get their way. More inattentive kids may act flighty or hover at the margins of playgroups, unsure of how to assert themselves. If you notice that your child is struggling to interact with their peers, try some coaching at home. Emphasize taking turns and sharing during family playtime and explain that friends expect the same good behavior. Impulsive children will also benefit from practicing different strategies for settling peer conflict. Role playing can be very helpful here. Of course, as a parent you should also be careful to model good social behavior yourself when talking to family members and your own friends. For kids who need more intensive guidance, experts suggest using “social scripts,” or simple everyday conversations that kids can practice with their parents. You can work with your child’s doctor or behavioral therapist to select appropriate scripts and develop a strategy for rehearsing and implementing them. Social scripts are especially helpful for children on the autism spectrum who need to deliberately learn key social skills, such as establishing eye contact and responding to the moods of others. Finally, if your child has been having a hard time making friends, Dr. Rooney suggests setting up a meeting with their teacher. “Often kids will say ‘everyone hates me,’ but they may not be able to describe what’s going on.” Teachers can give a better sense of your child’s peer interactions and suggest more positive classmates for after-school playdates. #James Donaldson notes:Welcome to the “next chapter” of my life… being a voice and an advocate for #mentalhealthawarenessandsuicideprevention, especially pertaining to our younger generation of students and student-athletes.Getting men to speak up and reach out for help and assistance is one of my passions. Us men need to not suffer in silence or drown our sorrows in alcohol, hang out at bars and strip joints, or get involved with drug use.Having gone through a recent bout of #depression and #suicidalthoughts myself, I realize now, that I can make a huge difference in the lives of so many by sharing my story, and by sharing various resources I come across as I work in this space. #http://bit.ly/JamesMentalHealthArticleFind out more about the work I do on my 501c3 non-profit foundationwebsite www.yourgiftoflife.org Order your copy of James Donaldson's latest book,#CelebratingYourGiftofLife: From The Verge of Suicide to a Life of Purpose and Joy Link for 40 Habits Signupbit.ly/40HabitsofMentalHealth If you'd like to follow and receive my daily blog in to your inbox, just click on it with Follow It. Here's the link https://follow.it/james-donaldson-s-standing-above-the-crowd-s-blog-a-view-from-above-on-things-that-make-the-world-go-round?action=followPub www.celebratingyourgiftoflife.com Practice during playdates Supervised playdates are a great way for children to build their social muscles. Dr. Rooney suggests that parents spend some time before playdates reviewing social cues with their children. Some activities for playdate-prep include: - Talk with your child about what it means to be a good host. What will your child do to make their guests feel comfortable? - Have your child pick out a few games in advance. How will your child know when it’s time to move on to the next game? - Ask your child how they’ll know if guests are having a good time. Are they smiling? Laughing? As long as the children don’t veer into play that’s outright dangerous, let the playdate unfold as it may, recommends Jamie Howard, PhD, a clinical advisor to the Child Mind Institute. Children learn from the natural consequences of their actions, which is why it’s so important to let them practice socializing in a warm, supportive setting. And when you review how it went, focus on the good behaviors you want to reinforce. “Kids are more motivated by praise than by avoiding criticism,” says Dr. Howard. “Specific, labeled praise is most helpful. Instead of ‘good job,’ say, ‘you shared very well with your friend.’” Helping shy kids Some kids are natural social butterflies while others need more time to warm up to new situations. Don’t worry if your child is a little more hesitant in social situations. Expecting every child to jump in and be the leader of the group isn’t realistic, so avoid pushing too hard. However, parents shouldn’t make the mistake of keeping more tentative kids at home, either. Rachel Busman, PsyD, a psychologist who works with anxious kids, explains, “There’s a difference between accommodating and enabling. For shyer kids we want to give them opportunities to meet new kids, but we want to help bridge the transition so they aren’t too uncomfortable.” Dr. Busman suggests planning playdates at your house first, where your child will be most at ease. Clubs or other activities are also a good way to make friends because they provide built-in structure that helps minimize anxiety. If your child is reluctant to try something new, suggest inviting a friend they’re already comfortable with to join in. As with any social skill, parents can help shy kids rehearse ahead of time for a situation that makes them nervous, like going to a birthday party or meeting a new group of people. Every child is different Dr. Busman notes there is also a difference between children who are shy and children who are simply more introverted and prefer spending their down time reading or drawing by themselves. “Different children in the same family can have different social limits and degrees of comfort. A child who prefers quiet time or being in small groups isn’t necessarily avoiding other kids.” But it’s essential that more introverted children still get opportunities to make friends. Dr. Busman recommends knowing how much your child can handle and setting expectations accordingly. It’s enough for some kids to find just one thing they like to do once a week. Finally, it’s important that parents not place too many of their own social expectations on children. Dr. Rooney advises keeping things in perspective. “Kids need just one or two good friends. You don’t have to worry about them being the most popular kid in their class.” Photo by Lukas on Pexels.com Read the full article

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danielscotton63 · 4 months

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This Functionality Simplifies one's Daily Routine

When it comes to fashion, we all strive to find that perfect accessory that enhances our outfit while still being practical and convenient. In recent years, mini backpacks have taken the fashion industry by storm, captivating the hearts of style enthusiasts worldwide. These adorable and versatile bags combine functionality with cuteness, making them an absolute must-have for every fashionista. With their compact size, trendy designs, and practicality, cute mini backpacks have become a staple in wardrobes.

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In conclusion, cute mini backpacks have firmly established themselves as a must-have accessory for fashion-forward individuals. Their irresistible cuteness, functional features, and versatile nature make them a standout piece in any wardrobe. Whether you are running errands, going to school, or attending a social event, these petite bags are sure to enhance your outfit and turn heads wherever you go. So if you haven't already embraced the mini backpack trend, it's high time you indulge in the cute and practical world of mini backpacks and let your fashion sense shine!

#mini backpack purse

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charles-frake · 2 years

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Sunflowers

Chapter 1: Fever Dr3am

Peter’s POV:

I awoke this morning to the chirping of pigeons and a gray rainy sky across my window view, my alarm clock beeping, and my head aflame.

I can recall last night’s blur- of fighting, of violence, all wrapped up with a neat little ribbon but not tight enough, as I do recall.

It did, of course, end with some bruising on my part. As I arose from my bed I saw it then, in a small mirror on my desk– a purplish mark just against my jawline and temple,already beginning to heal. Most kids my age got bruises from bullies, and while it's now seen as cruel and, more importantly, you’re less likely to get girls to like you hitting people, I still got my fair share of beatings in the schoolyard when it was popular.

I got up and wandered over to my closet, undressing the hangers and pulling their clothes over top of me, buttoning up my sweater and jeans as I tried to calm the thumping and swelling in my brain. ‘My head’s going to explode,’ I mumbled. But still, the thought of explaining to my aunt that I was feeling ill… Making up some lie…My headache worsened, from the stress of it, and I let out a groan. I walked into our bathroom and took some ibuprofen, figuring it should reduce my pain enough so my healing “powers” (I guess I can call it that, even though it sounds funny) can do its job as well. Finally my last alarm beeped, signaling it was time to go or else I’d really be late to school. I quickened my pace then, grabbing my bag and running out the door, all but yelling a goodbye to Aunt May as I left.

The bus to school was crowded, many not-so-happy morning New Yorkers commuting back and forth to work as I very much did with school. I remember when I first began going to Midtown- May was so upset over the distance. And especially me taking transport alone. I’d done it with her, of course. When I was younger, I used to be so scared, I’d hide behind her coat and clutch her hand whenever anyone got too close to me. After a bit though, being shoulder-to-shoulder just got kinda natural. It’s part of the New Yorker lifestyle, I suppose.

My eyes moved down to my phone as I started to walk up to the school gates. Last night new’s immediately popped up, causing my phone to vibrate with a buzz, and big, black letters it reads: “Masked Vigilante Takes Down Robbery.” I had to force myself to not smile down at my phone, but the honorable sense of pride was still there. And all the same, mornings didn’t feel the same with her.

Dawn’s POV:

It had been a couple months since we had broken up. Since the fight had happened and since I’d been kicked from my mom’s old apartment and became a street rat, at least that’s what I called myself. Never in my life would I had thought I’d be homeless. When I was a kid I thought I’d be a dragon or a puppy in an awesome house with a big swimming pool. Now I was stealing things from work, not because it was the edgy teenage thing to do, but because I could feel my own stomach caving in. It was like some cheesy white re-do of Aladdin, only crazier and without a genie, just myself.

There was that night, the night I still can’t remember if it was a dream or not. I’d wondered into The Sanctum Sanctorum, that old dusty mausoleum-looking building. It was freezing outside and, with no real options close by when I got kicked out of my apartment, I thought crashing there would be the best idea. It was so dim inside, it felt like the door had closed in on itself too. I could feel myself wanting to turn back. I took a deep breath and got closer. Thats when I saw him- or it. Something… in the dark. I’m pretty sure it was caped with something red, it had a candelabra like the one’s you’d see in vintage movies. I could see it’s face lightly shown by the candlelight, but not much of it. It looked at me with peering, stern eyes and asked why I was there, but with my nerves I just wanted to run. Then the red object- it’s cape, it removed itself from their back and wrapped itself around me, constricting my movement. I remember shaking, I remember wanting to cry. And then purple, angry violent light. The person or thing was against the wall, I was free, and I ran for the door. I called Happy, seeming I didn’t have much of an option, (as much as I don’t trust him) and I stayed the night there. I was gone the next morning when the symptoms started.

Symptoms include headaches, dizziness, fever, nausea… and well, floating. Me, er, floating, or making things float. I was completely breathless when I awoke in Happy’s spare room, just dangling in the air, purple light around me. I could still hear Happy snoring yet here was I, afloat, four feet up in the air, nearly touching the ceiling. And the moment I awoke to realize it I came crashing back down, the bed squeaking. Now, I didn’t know Happy much, but I knew one thing– if I were to tell him this was happening, well, something big would come of it. That was simply always the case with adults. They weren’t to be trusted, at least that was my experience with them. I looked at the glowing lights as it faded away softly. I had to hide it- whatever this was.

And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing; sleeping normally in alleys or abandoned construction sites, but when I wake it’s as though my body is trembling in a seizure like state. I wake sweating, my head pounding. I vomit the food I can find.

Today I awoke to the feeling of weightlessness, and I groaned a little at the lightheadedness and the rain tapping down on my face. When I looked down, I realized that I was 40 feet away from the ground. My lungs were being filled with air as I felt my stomach and body drop. I wanted to scream but all I could muster was a gasp. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the bottom. But all of a sudden, I stopped. I felt as if I was no longer falling. In the corner of my eye, I could see the glittery violet glow; only this time I had controlled it. It was primal, not wanting to fall, to die– it came out like a survival instinct. But this meant whatever was happening to me wasn’t just a come and go thing, as much as it felt like it.

Eventually I fell down, scraping my elbows on the harsh pavement. It was early morning, I could hear loud cars beeping and people walking and talking, yet I still continued to felt like the only one in some vacant city. The loneliness just got worse when I was infected with whatever this is.

It was a couple days coming back to school. I had done my best to attend, as per Happy’s ‘Go to school or else’ texts. Not that I think he held any real power against me, just because I knew I should. Hiding my fever was quite hard, though. I often had to go to the nurse to lay down. It was so cozy in there, laying on there little beds. It was the only place I could get really good sleep. And of course, being school with gym and all, I had to try to smell good too, that was quite hard when you’re a homeless teen. I mainly used beauty products and took showers at the F.E.A.S.T Centers Peter’s Aunt May didn’t work at.

When I walked in the school, people would stare at me. I’m not sure if it’s the bags under my eyes or the weight I’ve lossed, but they all knew something was wrong. Not that it wasn’t noticeable. One person’s eyes in particular stood out; he wore a Midtown high sweater and blue jeans. His hair was nicely swept to the side and he looked at me with concerned eyes for someone who broke my damn heart. I could feel the piecing moving around, slicing into me and piercing my viens. I bit my lip. ‘Shake it off, Selene. Don’t let him get to you.’ I said to myself. Standing tall, chest out, I did what anyone in my line of family would do; not that I’m too proud of this ‘line of family’ but no matter the case; I marched right past him. Past the eyes. I went to my locker, that was right next to his, and turned the combination as normal.

That was when he spoke.

“Um.. hi Dawn. It’s nice to see you again.” His voice was so soft, so kind, yet cautious, like I was infected or something. Maybe I was…

I knew he was trying to make some fresh start or something, and as nice as that sounds…

I remember what happened the last day of school. The fight we had. He was just so secretive, he had been for months. I had been patient, non-caring but… he never talked to me or had time for me. I can’t live with a friend or a… a partner, that has secrets. I can’t love someone who doesn’t even trust me.

I clenched my fists and slammed my locker once I got everything. There couldn’t be something between us; there was no trust.

At lunch, I set down my tray in the far back of the schoolyard and reached in my bag, ransacking it for my cigarettes. I lit one up and sighed, wallowing a little in the calamity and calmness of how I felt in the moment. That was when Ned sat down beside me. He was primarily Peter’s friend but I had walked to his house a couple times over the summer. He knew of my situation and sometimes would let me crash over there because it was closer to work. “I didn’t know you smoke.” He said.

I chuckled. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, kid.” I said, my hands shaking a little. Of course, unfortunately, he noticed.

“Do you have low blood sugar?” He asked me, and I laughed, shaking my head in response.

“No, it’s just… Well I’ve been not feeling well lately.” That turned his face from semi-concerned to a more serious expression.

“Maybe I should tell Peter… You know the F.E.A.S.T can always take you in. And I’m sure you’ll have medical care.”

I shook my head. Maybe it was foolish, but I felt I was better off working my up to get a place or a car to stay in or something like that. Rather than staying at some shelter who might just put me in the foster care system because I’m technically an orphan now. “I’ll be fine. Promise. I’m doing fine.”

He sighed. “I know but… I mean, you can’t keep doing this all your life. And I’m going to need that tent back.” He said and we both giggled. That was when I saw Peter looking at us. “He..he doesn’t know right? You didn’t tell him?”

“Surprisingly, no. We have talked about you though. And the breakup and everything. But, it’s been really hard to keep it a secret from him. Things just slip out.” Ned had rambled.

My eyebrows raise as I look at him. “What about the breakup?”

“Well, it’s confidential.” He said and paused, before slipping out a few details, as Ned normally does. “But, it’s been really hard for him, you know?”

I scoff and take another drag of my cigarette before speaking. “Hard for him? Oh, were things hard for him when he didn’t tell me what was going on with him and stood me up?” I said sarcastically, pretending to pout for him. “Look, he’s a good guy. He was going through a lot.” I laughed. “So was fucking I. But I expected when we said we’re a couple we would share things with each other. I opened up, I trusted him. He shared nothing.” Feeling the hot steamy burn of memories, I burnt out my cigarette and stormed off, muttering a “Sorry, Ned..”

The day went by slower after that. In the hallways I saw Peter reach out to through a crowd of students, but I just stormed off. I didn’t need him in my head anymore than he already was.

The convenient store was right near here and Ned’s house. Ned’s grandma would normally Ddrove me off near the construction site or wherever I was staying at the time. It was normally a bit farther away from school or work, but still walking distance, it just hurt to walk back and forth. I always told them it was okay, but I truly did appreciate them helping me. Ned’s family slowly felt comfortable. So did Aunt May to me. Not family, but close like that. I’m not sure if anyone could be my ‘family,’ not after my parents ruining my trust like that. My body was still shaky, and I still felt kinda nauseous, but I went anyway and checked in. Not many people went here, just a couple customers. Most times I read magazines or texted, but I didn’t have many friends to text anymore. So instead I opened a sketchbook and started a fresh inky white page. “Mom always worried I’d be a starving artist.” I said to myself, in my solitude, a little tear coming down my cheek.

Peter’s POV:

After school, as I rode the rocky bus home, the only thing on my mind was Dawn. I wanted to fix things somehow, to make them better, but how? I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she looked; she looked ill, with baggy sleepless eyes. Something was wrong, I didn’t need a spidey sense to see it but it did worsen my anxiety. I tapped my legs nervously when suddenly, my phone buzzed. I opened my phone to see a news article again, this time worse. ‘New Supervillain: Gasmask Enters.’ My eyebrows couldn’t help but raise as I look at him. He looked… creepy. He wore a gasmask, the ones you would wear in WWI or in some apocalyptic fantasy. His eyes peeked out of the top, but it was too dark to really look at him or see any distinct facial features. His suit was made of some scrap latex, it was rather cheap and self-made, I could tell by the lousy stitching. But he gave off some… weird, off putting vibe. Something I didn’t like at all.

The article continues. ‘Today, in the Upper East District, a bomb of a new drug, known as Fever Dream, was dropped off around Fifth, Madison, and Park Avenue. 50 people are now being hospitalized and stabilized off of it. Some who have come out it testified the experience to be like ‘bliss.’”

When I got home I went to my room first thing and began to dig around in my box of Spider-tech toys; specifically looking for my Spider-drone. My idea was to scan the surroundings for any clues. But I couldn’t find it. I tapped my finger against my lip, thinking. Sliding into my desk, I picked up my phone again and dialed Ned.

“Hey, what’s up?” He said, and you can clearly hear he’s eating as he’s talking

“Ned, did you see the news? I need my spider-drone to check out the upper east district. I’m going to walk over to pick it up.” I said, a little quick but to the chase.

“Uh, I don’t have it.” Ned said, stopping his chewing.

“What do you mean you don’t have it?” I asked, a little aggressively and concerned into the phone.

“You don’t let me touch the stuff. And I’m telling you, it’s not here.”

“Well it can’t be…” Then it hit me… it was in my hoodie back at Dawn’s. I took a deep sigh. “It’s with Dawn. I’ll have to go by the shop.”

“Is that a good idea? She sorta hates you. Do you want me to go?”

I shake my head, even though he can’t see that. “No.. I need to talk to her, as much as she doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Dawn’s POV:

I heard the loud door creak open, the bell clink! As if cheering or greeting the new customer, I always thought. When I saw the face of him though, I didn’t want him to feel welcomed. Things used to be so sweet, we were so kind to one another, but now it was as if there was an icy cold glacier in between us, pushing each other father out to the arctic sea. He was chasing me, wanting more of the friendly and semi-romantic warmth we used to share, and I was drifting us further out, believing we could never share it together again.

Peter walked up and grabbed a bag of gummy worms, his favorite. “Um, cuban sandwich, smooched down.” I nod, as I normally do as I takes his order. This was the relocated deli after the fire. It wasn’t as nice, and to be sure nothing happened, Delmar doesn’t bring his cat in the shop anymore. The walls were an off-white color, the aisles filled with on and off brand of chips and snacks and sodas and such. “Running up the Hill,” by Kate Bush played lowly in the background and the floors smelled a rough stingy bleach as she’d just mopped. It was the one task she made sure to do for her boss, due to his back problems. “Is Delmar in?” He asked, clearing his throat.

“You missed him, he’s on his way home now. I’m about to close up, actually…” She said while working on his sandwich, not making eye contact with him.

He nodded. “Um, sorry, I was actually just wondering… you wouldn’t happen to have my box of stuff, would you? Like my hoodies and everything?”

I felt the heat flow to my face, stinging me almost more than his words did. Almost. That’s what he wanted? Just his stuff? And worst of all, I couldn’t give it to him, even if i wanted to! Because it was tossed out. I had to force myself not to scream. “That’s… it, huh?”

“Well… I- I mean, I want to talk to you about other things, Dawn. I just really need my stuff back.”

“Why?” I asked, looking at him, wrapping up the sandwich as I did so. Peter froze up, tears in his eyes. It was this again. The hiding. The bullshit hiding.

I checked him out. “That’ll be 7.86. After this, get out. I don’t have your stuff.”

“Did you toss it?” He asked, paying and walking to the exit so I could lock up. I started trembling as I was talking and my headache was getting worse. I started having shaky breathing, like I was about to cry. “No, I didn’t toss it. I just don’t have it.”

I locked up and as soon as I was outside took out a cigarette. My hands were trembling from rage as I put it to my mouth and took a puff to soothe me.

“You can be mad at me all you want, Dawn, I just need it–”

“God, Peter, I’m homeless! It’s in a junkyard somewhere okay? If you thought maybe to ask months ago, you’d have a chance of getting whatever you want back. But I know it’s not the fucking memories we had together.” I sighed and pulled up my hood, taking off. I needed to get away from him. I did my best to hold back all my tears but it overflowed anyway. No one could see it through the rain. Not that anyone would truly care, it was just my pride that concerned me. Sobbing lightly, rushing back civilains and trying not to get hit as I passed the street I walked in the blurry glimpses of NY nighttime- the gleams of lights that shined through my tears like sparks.

As I reached the construction site, I saw that my bag had been rooted through, the borrowed tent had been cut up and destroyed- the sight a perfect metaphor of how I felt when they took my apartment. Yet it happened again. I so desperately cried out into the night, sobbing, my body shaking. I ran. I was panicking and nothing felt good. All that popped in mind was to run. I tried to cross the street and a car suddenly stepped out in front, slamming its brakes. I shut my eyes tight, expecting a bright light, or to awake in a hospital. But instead, I open them slowly to see the car floating, the purple glow around it. Slowly I concentrated hard on my breathing, on myself, and lowered the car. That’s when I realized; it was Happy’s vehicle.

https://www.wattpad.com/story/313502509?utm_source=android&utm_medi

#marvel #spiderman #peter parker #tom holland #original content #writing #fanfiction

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cherriesrae · 2 years

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Shortbread kisses

word count: 2k

“ Hungry eyes were on him, making him feel wanted. Most of the people attracted to fine just stare, his sharp jawline making saliva collect in their mouths. He knew what he was doing, a lot of people have a thing for a masculine authority figure. It tickled a part of their brains Harry liked to scratch. His hair is pushed back by his now accentuated hand, rings missing for the night. Harry puts his glass to his lips when he sees her.” Or Harry goes to a sex club and Y/N comes back into his life

This story contains mentions of drinking and sexual acts. If any of this could or would trigger you, or are under 18 I recommend you stay away from this fic and DNI with this post.{masterlist}{taglist}{carrd}

Harry had never taken himself as an orgy kind of guy, never. So when his nail tech recommended it to him, it threw his mind for a whirl. Not only did he decline Tara's offer, but he almost fired her on the spot until she explained herself. The freelance nail tech explained how he had only been so stressed lately, and it showed.

" Harry, listen, it's nothing personal, I promise." She brushed away the filed nail dust and shut the drill off, " it's just that when I'm not having enough time to myself, it puts me to my breaking point of stress and I break. So instead I have put the free time I would spend watching Dynasty on Fridays and I have some fun." Harry knows how into that show Tara was, never really sure if she was into the show or Liz Gillies more.

" I just don't think it would be for me Tara," she cuts off his rejection.

" And that is okay, but it's safer than the more popular ' one night stands' you favor so much, trust me. You have to show up with clear STD tests, condoms at all times-" she stops to think. " Well unless agreed by both parties." She turns on the file once again. " I'll message you the phone number to one of the clubs I go to."

Harry truly didn't think it was going to happen, but here he was, in a suit nonetheless, filling out the paperwork. Tara wasn't kidding when she said it was safe, a photocopy of his driver's license, birth certificate, and recent address were all on file.

" Okay Mr. Styles, if you go and follow that hallway it will lead you to some lockers where you can keep your personal belongings you don't want to take into the main floor. You'll be locker 215, the combination is set to your birth year." Listening to the man at the front desk he finds his designated locker for the night and is surprised by the lock, it looks like one you would see for an automated lawn gate.

Walking out to the main floor, as the secretary said, walking up to the main bar and getting a scotch. Harry had left his jacket suit in his locker, so with his sleeves rolled up he leaned over to the bartender and asked, " How am I meant to pay if I was told to leave my wallet in a locker?"

" Everyone is checked in through the system by locker number, so you tell me and I'll add it to a tab." The black woman rocking purple box braids and bold eyeliner explained to him.

" Okay, it's 215." The bartender hands him his drink and he quickly throws it back, promising to sip the next one. With that Harry walks away and looks around.

Hungry eyes were on him, making him feel wanted. Most of the people attracted to fine just stare, his sharp jawline making saliva collect in their mouths. He knew what he was doing, a lot of people have a thing for a masculine authority figure. It tickled a part of their brains Harry liked to scratch. His hair is pushed back by his now accentuated hand, rings missing for the night. Harry puts his glass to his lips when he sees her.

Barely dressed, a short white sundress tucked above her ass, a sheer white thong on display. Even though he could only see the back of her and the left side of her face, he knew it was Y/N. The same woman whom he had a schoolyard crush on, who wore some form of pigtails all the time, his Y/N, still radiating innocence even when her breasts are out and two men are standing on either side of her. One man is licking into her through the thong while the other is putting his lips wherever he can.

Harry decides he wanted to see her face, and once he did, she makes eye contact and doesn't let go. It makes Harry remember how her mother used to own a bakery, how he would get lunch there every Wednesday and Thursday. How her mother encouraged him to come in more often, and how she gave him free coffee in the mornings. How he overheard Y/N begging her to stop because she had a crush on him and it was " embarrassing".

She blinks and breaks eye contact when the man not eating her cunt puts a thumb in her mouth and pulls her to look up at him, he can hear him ask her if she was still interested in getting fucked by him. She shook her head no and looked back over at Harry. He nods and she walks over to Harry.

" I guess the whole part where I act like I haven't been watching is a bit too taboo for us hmm?" Harry chuckles out, setting his drink down to be forgotten about.

" Hi Harry, can I kiss you?" Y/N asks, trying to be polite.

" Well I sure hope I can do more than that-" She decides she's done waiting and jumps in to catch his slightly chapped lips. Harry pulls her off, " Is that any way to be good for me?" Harry watches her eyes gloss over with more want than he had ever seen. "Let's sit, so I can get you on my lap. How does that sound Love?"

" Good, that sounds good," Harry pulls her into his lap on the nearest couch.

" Why don't you ride my thigh for a sec? Hmm? So I can get acquainted with these beauties?" He asks, referencing her tits. She slides over and begins to grind down, her clit still being sensitive from the other bloke. Her arousal was audible and Harry was eating it up, leaning in and catching one of her areolas in his mouth.

He gently bit down on the tip, coursing a mewl out from the back of her throat. Y/N threw her head back in relief when Harry shifted his knee up, giving her a new angle to fuck herself upon. Letting go of her nipple Harry leans into her ear.

" Does that feel good Y/N? Better than to two men who obviously weren't aware you were my good girl, hm? Do I need to get you a leash? I think we both know you're done whoring yourself out without permission." Harry's words cup her ears like a melody, sending her into momentary bliss, he treats her earlobe as his own personal chew toy, grazing it harsher than most would like. For her though, makes her gasp as if she had never had air before, and he was only just now giving it to her.

" Can I- Can I-" She can't even get her words out.

"Let's get on the floor so I can get you on my cock? Hmm?" He noses into her neck, " how does that sound?"

" Good! Amazing even!" She's huffing and puffing out in arousal. Harry, lifting her off his pant leg, can see the not subtle damp spot on the area.

" Would you look at that? You're even soaking through my trousers." She grabs ahold of his belt, taking control of the situation. Harry is pushed onto the ground and is mounted like a horse in the blink of an eye. " Desperate are we?" He kicks off his shoes.

" Condom?" She is all business at this point.

" In the left pocket." She takes it and pushes off his briefs and slacks to his knees. Condom on- by him-, she begins to lower herself onto his prick as Streets by Doja Cat starts to play. Like it was setting the mood for the events to occur.

Y/N felt herself stretch out around him, a pleasurable burning sensation fluttering through her abdomen. She didn't get a good look at his size before she was sliding on but, " Oh wow," her little remark she had said while fitting him inside her said it all. Sure, over the years Y/N has seen his prick a few times in passing, sometimes it was just behind the pants she has dropped a glass of water on, other times it was his speedo at the pool or accidentally walking in on him in the showers in the boys changing rooms at school.

But never in her wildest dreams did she ever think that the same Harry she had known throughout high school would be the one to fuck her on the floor of a sex club floor.

Meanwhile, the only thing running through Harry's head was " Don't cum, don't cum, don't cum." Because if he does now, he might as well fall off the side of the earth, move to Mars, and pretend that he actually likes the taste of kale.

Y/N was so warm and inviting , walls squeezing him just right, just like he had imagined in his prepubescent years. Her petite moans sounding like liquid gold in his ears, making his reach up and take hold of her hips, rocking her faster than before.

Harry had never given so much of his brain-stored wank material to one person, but here he was. Letting the same girl that he used to think of during his Thursday night when he was in a boyband ride his dick.

All while getting caught up and lost in the feeling of his fantasy on his legs, he can see the two men from earlier come from behind to join his fun. Harry watches from his newly opened eyes as a blonde who had been eating her cunt earlier comes behind and grabs her left breast, bringing it into his mouth.

Harry has to force himself not to lose his mind at the fact her noises weren't for him anymore, he shared them with the eye-candy bodybuilders. The other man from her earlier group comes and puts his mouth on her neck and tweaks her other nipple, his black t blue braids falling on his melanin-rich skin.

If this were any other night,m with any other woman, Harry would let his wildest fantasies about them come to life, even now he can imagine the way his cock would bulge out of the blondes throat, the curls of the other natural hair type falling on his neck while he gets taken from behind. But Y/N? Y/N is his.

" Oh, Harry!" Y/N slurs out at a high volume as he starts to ram his hips up into her, like her cumming on his prick was all he needed to do be he died.

Harry had decided he had enough with sharing what he proclaimed as is and flipped the pair so she was underneath him. Angling up to her g-spot like her lifeline was attached.

" We'll leave you alone man," One of the two- he isn't sure which- says behind him. The same man who spoke dropped something next to him, but he didn't focus on it until the other one spoke in his ear.

" Said something about his being the same model she had at home., grabbed a clean one for you." Harry could feel the roughness of his 5'o'clock shadow on the back of his neck. Reaching around he grabbed- what he now realizes is a vibrator- and turned it on.

" Thanks, mate, I've got her from now on though, she's mine." He can hear a deep chuckle behind him and their footsteps walking away before he places it on her clit. " Do you like that Princess? Just enough for you?"

" Harrrryyyy, fuck," she was a panting mess beneath him, " Im gunna cum-" she was cut off by Harry turning up the speed on the toy in his hand.

" Do it," he whispered in a somber voice, and that was all it took for the tension to break in her abdomen. Soon he was following behind her with his own release. " Fuck Princess."

Not long after the movement had stopped a- what he assumes is a waitress- came by with towels for the two, " Sir," was the only word she spoke to the two before Harry tied off the condom and threw it away in the whiskey that was still nearby.

" Hi Harry, I miss you. How've you been?" He looked down at the still dazed girl beneath him.

" Good Y/N, better now that you're back in my life. What're you doing in New York? That's pretty far away from your mother's bakery, no?"

Tell what y'all are thinking about this!

Requests are still open! And I would love to see y'all's fic ideas!

This post is based on a @harryforvogue idea they had

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#harrystyles #cherriesrae blurbs #cherriesrae #thigh riding #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #sex club fic #harry styles smut #dom harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shots #softdom!h

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miyacreampie · 3 years

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Lenny sensei's night class has begun!~♡

“Senpai~♡”

synopsis 💭;; Tanaka gets jealous bc some bitch talking to his man.

note 🖋️;; IT TOOK A WHOLE FUCKIN WEEK TO WRITE THIS. WHY DOES WORK ALWAYS PREVENT ME FROM DOING THE THINGS I LIKE? WHAT THE ACTUAL FU- by the way, ‘Isayama Misaki’ is based off of some asswipe I used to know- also, I ran out of ideas at the end, so it kinda cuts of lf at the good part. I apologize to the anon that requested this.

Requested by anon ♡

Male pronouns used

Tanaka wasn't a jealous man. Or at least he'd like to think so.

(Y/n) was pretty popular around campus, so it wasn't a surprise to see a few fangirls here or there. It kinda reminded him of Oikawa—except (Y/n) didn't exactly pay his fangirls any attention. (And he didn't have an ass as flat as printer paper.) But did that stop them from trying to get into his pants? No.

In all honesty, Ryu felt lucky that he had someone like (Y/n) as a boyfriend, although he didn't like the fangirls—who paid him no mind whenever they were together. It annoyed him that they kept surrounding (Y/n) who clearly wanted nothing to do with them, begging him for dates, one night stands, anything.

To say that Tanaka was mildly uncomfortable was an understatement.

🌇🌇

Today was a bit different. Instead of a crowd of women rushing towards (Y/n), it was just one—; Misaki Isayama. The woman (almost) every guy considered perfect. This was...manageable, but what did she want? Well—at least it was only one girl. He had only woken up a little over an hour ago, and wasn't exactly ready for his simps just yet.

“(L/n)-chan, can you help me study for the science exam that's coming up?”

“Just because you're my upperclassman, doesn't mean you can call me that.” (Y/n) said quietly, rubbing his eyes, then yawning. “I'm on my way to the lecture hall though, so maybe after that? I should be fully awake by then..”

Misaki smiled and nodded her head. “It's a date!”

“No. No it's not.”

🏙️🏙️

Tanaka let (Y/n) lean on him during the lecture. That turned into one sided cuddling from the sleepy man. Ryu thought it was cute how (Y/n) always clung to him when he was sleepy. He was a little sad when (Y/n) fully awoke, and let him go, but it was for the best.

“Oh, Ryu-san. I'm tutoring the rumored ‘perfect woman’, and it's gonna be awkward with just the two of us, so can y—”

“You headin to the library? I was on my way there anyway. I'll join ya.”

The (h/c) haired man nodded, and they both walked all the way to the other side of the schoolyard to the library building. Tanaka even held (Y/n)'s hand to flex on the girls they passed by. Some of the girls were noticeably annoyed or a little angry, which pleased him.

When they finally arrived, Misaki was standing by the door. Upon seeing Ryu, she scowled. But it was only for a second.

“Ah, (L/n)-kun..who's this?”

(Y/n) smiled, oblivious to Misaki and Tanaka glaring at each other. Needless to say, the intense atmosphere went right over his head. “This is my boyfriend..Tanaka. He'll be joining us if that's okay.”

“‘Perfect woman’ my ass..the only ‘perfect woman’ I know is Kiyoko-san.” Tanaka mumbled under his breath. (Y/n) may not have known, but Misaki and Tanaka were always competitive with each other. Other times he wouldn't have cared, but now that (Y/n) is what he's fighting for, he wasn't gonna back down.

“Oh, it's fine.” Misaki said through gritted teeth.

🏙️🏙️

Isayama and Tanaka were left sitting at a table alone, while (Y/n) searched for the science books. They sat in complete silence, but it was almost as if you could hear their thoughts—mentally arguing with one another.

(Y/n) returned with three books, seating himself between Isayama and Ryu. “Okay! Let's get started!”

***

As (Y/n) went on explaining the laws of physics (because Tetsurou used to tutor him), Misaki and Tanaka continued their epic staring battle. The battle ended once they noticed that (Y/n) had stopped talking. He was chewing his tongue in thought, trying to figure out how to pronounce a word.

Misaki didn't notice, but (Y/n) had gone from physics, to microbiology. In less than five minutes.

“Something wrong?”

“How do you say this word again..?” The (e/c) eyed man pointed to a bolded word in the textbook, leaning back a bit so the other two could see.

A suffocating silence reigned over the three of them, but only for about three seconds.

Isayama squinted a bit before she spoke. “Endothelial?”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, senpai.”

Isayama smiled smugly at Ryuunosuke. The said man had a visible tick mark (💢) on the side of his head, symbolizing his annoyance. Tanaka only wanted (Y/n) to call him ‘senpai’—even if they were the same age (if not, then (Y/n) might be older). It made him feel like he was a dependable upperclassman, maybe even a bit turned on in certain situations. But hearing (Y/n) call someone else senpai..made him a little sad.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating. As Tanaka reached into his pocket to get his phone, he caught (Y/n) putting his own phone in his jacket pocket. Tanaka turned on his phone to see a message from (Y/n) in his recent notifications.

Pretty boy💖: Go to the bathroom. I'll join you later.

Although he was a bit confused, he got up from his chair. “‘M gonna go take a leak.” Ryu said as he started to make his way towards the men's restroom.

Almost five minutes pass before (Y/n) goes into the bathroom after Tanaka, telling Misaki that he was checking on him. As soon as (Y/n) had passed the first bathroom stall, he was yanked into the second one, the door locking almost immediately after it shut behind him. He wasn't given any time to react before he felt a familiar pair of soft lips violently smash against his own. (Not violent enough to make his mouth bleed or anything. Chill.)

A heated battle for dominance arose between the two, (Y/n) quickly taking the lead as he gently bit Ryu's lip.

They didn't want this to end, but eventually Tanaka had to break the kiss because he couldn't breathe. He stood there, breathless in his boyfriend's arms, not wanting (Y/n) to let go.

“Ryuunosuke..” Tanaka flinched upon his first name being said—even though (Y/n) said it many times before. His reaction brought a smile to (Y/n)'s face. “I love you~..” He said, drawing out the three words in a sing-song voice.

Ryu felt his legs getting weak, and held onto (Y/n) for dear life. (Somewhat out of fear that he might fall.) He wasn't actually feeling like this because of three words...right? “Babe..am I supposed to be kinda horny right now?” It was a bit of a strange question, but hey, it never hurts to ask.

(Y/n) chuckled. “Well, yeah. I might have to carry you out of here once we're done.” His warm smile from earlier didn't falter as he spoke.

‘How can he say something like that so casually? If I say something like that, I'd get d–’ Ryu's thoughts were snapped away when he felt his chest touch the stall divider and his pants being pulled down. He let out a soft moan as (Y/n) stroked him through his boxers.

🏙️

‘What the hell is taking them so long?!’ Isayama got up from where she sat, and went to the men's bathroom. There wasn't anyone around, so no one would see her going in. She opened the first stall's door. ‘If they ditched me, I swear to go–’

“W-Wait, (Y/n)!~ Haa!~♡”

“Geez senpai, you're so wet inside~..♡”

Misaki froze. She couldn't be sure that it was (Y/n) and Tanaka in there—but those were definitely Tanaka's pants hanging over the second stall's door. Now she felt more..curious than angry. Isayama slipped into the first stall, carefully and quietly closing the door behind her, and slowly locking it so it didn't make noise.

Ryu tried to keep his breathing steady as (Y/n) fucked him with his fingers—even though that did absolutely nothing to help his current situation. Hell, he couldn't even process words anymore. The only actual word he could say was his boyfriend's name. He eventually remembered how to speak after about two minutes of being finger-fucked.

He wanted to sound more demanding, but his voice came out more whiny than what he'd have liked it to. “Fuck me already..ya fuckin– Hng!~” It may have been that he couldn't process it, or that (Y/n) had moved at the speed of sound, but Tanaka wasn't able to register how fast (Y/n) pulled his fingers out, and shoved his cock into his still tight hole. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was a choked whine.

“You were saying?~♡” (Y/n) asked, though it sounded more like a demand than a question.

Tanaka wasn't given a chance to answer due to (Y/n) ruthlessly fucking the poor man senseless. His loud whines and moans echoed throughout the bathroom, much to (Y/n)'s pleasure. He wanted everyone to know that he was a taken man. He wanted everyone on campus to hear Ryuunosuke's pleasurable cries.

Hearing the two men fucking in the next stall turned Isayama on to no end. (Even though it was more of (Y/n)'s voice that made her wet.) But she resisted touching herself because she wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she masturbated to her rival getting fucked. (A kinda stupid reason, but okay.)

“Fu–fuck, (Y/n)!~ So good..it feels so good!~” Ryu babbled, the words almost incoherent as he attempted to push back against his boyfriend's cock. “More!~ Give me more!~♡” He begged, voice broken and choking on his own breath.

The (e/c) eyed man didn't say a word. As his senpai had politely asked of him, (Y/n) drove his cock so deep into Tanaka that the said man let out the loudest drawn out moan (Y/n) had ever heard from him. If it weren't for the cum spewing from the teary eyed man, (Y/n) would've thought he had hurt his lover. He wasn't entirely sure until he felt Ryu continue to push back against him, desperate for more friction.

“Aww..you're so cute when you act like a bitch in heat, senpai~..♡”

He only got a choked whine in response.

“I'm pretty close anyway..do you want it inside?~♡” (Y/n) asked, pulling the shaky man up to his chest. Again, only a whine. (Y/n) parted Ryu's lips with his fingers, those fingers soon being coated in saliva. “Use your words~..”

Finally, Tanaka spoke, despite his unintentional dry heaving. “Fuck me- please~..”

“As you wish~♡” (Y/n) almost whispered, gripping Tanaka's cock firmly, earning another broken moan from the said man. “You're the only person I'd fuck like this, you know that, right?” He said, as he rubbed the shorter man's stomach.

“Y-Yeah..that makes me happy~..”

Lmao this was like- 80% highschool drama (in a college setting), and the remaining 20% being me getting horny for no reason. Also, I'm aware this made no sense. None of the stuff I write makes sense. :)

The class session is now over!~♡

#tanaka x reader #tanaka x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #anime x male reader #m!reader #x male reader #top male reader #seme male reader #ryuunosuke x reader

790 notes · View notes

royallyjoon · 3 years

Text

nephilim (deux)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violent behavior, manipulation

deep in the forest lies the home to the infamous, successful kim family. you steeled yourself to enter the lions’ den, where kind, masked souls surrounded you, welcoming you with open hearts and open arms. you, however, still keep your wits about you. you protect yourself by getting comfortable, but not too close. but it’s alright. put your guard up to your hearts’ content. you are their favorite past time, after all. either way, sooner or later, you will be theirs...

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

The five Kim siblings couldn’t be more elated, watching the object of their eye sleep without a care in the world.

They remained quiet, speaking in whispers as they strove not to wake you up. Your guarded attitude around them had escaped no one, and they, quite frankly, found it adorable.

You were the only one who didn’t wear your emotions on your sleeve around them.

The sleek, black van turned corner after corner around the winding paths of Ichabod, passing homes, places of commerce, and office buildings.

The Kim family lived deep within the woods, not too far away from the base of the monthly gatherings. All of the other town dwellers would walk from their homes, located at various points in the city, into the twisting black woods in order to appear at the meeting on time.

For the Kims would accept nothing less than perfection.

After another twenty minutes, Driver Bin cautiously approached a narrow dirt path and he directed the car onto the incline, winding upwards on the hill. The car then veered off to the right, entering a secluded road that would lead specifically to the Kim family mansion.

It stood, raised on wooden platforms with impressive glass windows. The exterior shone in the afternoon sunlight, polished cherry wood glistening through the orange and green leaves on the forest trees.

There was no ostentatious fountain or statue outside the front of the home, nor were there piled bodies of the forsaken lying around their grounds, contrary to popular schoolyard taunts and beliefs.

Only a winding, wooden staircase that led to the front door.

The boys stared out the window, gaze breaking away from you for only a moment as they watched the approaching front gate.

A black, iron-wrought masterpiece, as well as their father’s pride and joy: the front gate worked all too well at keeping unwanted guests outside and favored guests inside of the Kim household.

Each of the brothers had grown up detesting that gate. Whether on purpose or by accident, it kept them locked up from the outside world, ostracizing them even more than they had already thought possible.

But now, as the old iron monstrosity creaked open, and as they watched their beloved sleep ever so sweetly....

Why, they wouldn’t have wished for anything other than for that gate to close once and for all, leaving you with them forever.

The metal closed with an ominous clang, and the van pulled into the home’s garage as the sun began to set.

——————————————————————

You peeled your eyes open, disoriented for just a moment before pure panic bled through.

The last thing you remembered was getting into the Kim’s car on your way to their home.

But now, you lay in a queen size, four poster bed covered with soft (f/c) sheets. The dark brown, wooden frame had beautiful gossamer, white sheets hanging down, wrapped around each end so that you could sit up without them getting in your way.

You looked down and found your school uniform still on, albeit a bit wrinkled. There was a sweater a bit too large for you wrapped around your shoulders. Your shoes were no longer on your feet, and the thought of someone taking those off for you made you flustered.

You weren’t sure how you had gotten to the room, but logic reasoned that one of the boys must have brought you in here to rest...

Your face twisted into an unreadable expression...you weren’t particularly sure how to feel about that.

You should thank them and apologize, of course, but still, the entire situation only heightened your unease.

Your phone and backpack lay on the table next to the bed, and you picked the device up, checking the time. To your surprise, it had only been an hour since you left the school grounds.

You texted your mother that you had arrived before getting off the bed and walking to the door in your socks. Before you could open it, however, your phone began to buzz in your hand.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N)! Is everything alright?” Your mother’s voice, tired but worried, sounded out from across the line.

“Yeah, everything’s fine! We just got here. I had to use the bathroom so they led me to a guest room; that’s where I am right now.” You paced around the room as you spoke before sitting on the edge of the bed and fingering the silk canopy.

You decided not to tell your mother about the falling asleep part. What she didn’t know couldn’t worry her.

“That’s good. I get out of work in a couple of hours, I’ll call you when I’m on my way. Just tell me how the project’s going in the meantime, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She cautioned you one more time before hanging up the phone.

You put it in your skirt pocket and pulled open the wooden door, relieved by the fact that it made no sound. It led you to a hallway and you carefully walked out into it, making sure not to disturb anyone.

You surmised that you were located on the bottom floor of the house. The room you were in had been situated at the very end of the hallway, and you found the lack of noise unsettling.

At first, the only thing you could hear was the soft padding of your socked feet on the hardwood floor, but as you walked down the hallway, the sound of talking and laughing got louder and louder.

You peeked your head around the corner to see all five of the boys seated in a sort of lounge with large, floor-to-ceiling glass windows.

The Kims had somehow managed to perfectly blend the appearance of old money with the taste and style of new money artwork and design. The house looked like something straight out of a romantic fiction, young adult novel.

As you looked around the living room, it was somewhat hard for you to take in the amount of wealth in the home. The windows offered a splendid view of the surrounding forest from the inside, although clouded a bit by coffee voile curtains. Before them sat two settees with a small, rounded glass table between them. Closer to the entrance where you stood sat a gray sofa across from a much longer, L-shaped couch.

Taehyung and Jimin sat roughhousing passionately on the sofa while Hoseok, Namjoon, and Jungkook sat on the longer couch opposite them. The former was laughing at the two’s shenanigans, clapping his hands in glee and the latter two were occupied with separate activities: Namjoon reading, occasionally pushing his glasses up on his face and Jungkook concerned with something on his phone.

You hesitantly walked out. “...Jimin?”

All five heads snapped up as they watched you approach.

Jimin’s face broke out into an even bigger smile and he jumped up to stand in front of you. “(Y/N)! How are you feeling? Are you alright?”

“Did you sleep well?” Taehyung smiled mischievously from the couch, but you could tell from his tone that he meant well.

Your cheeks darkened in embarrassment. “Yeah! I’m so sorry about that, I just..didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I thought I had handled my fatigue pretty well, but I guess it never actually left. You could’ve woken me up, you know...” You spoke with your head down, looking at your hands as they wrung together.

You heard the room go silent for a moment, just as you feared it would. When you looked up, all five of the boys had an enigmatic expression on their face.

It sent chills down your back, just how quickly their attitudes had switched. They went from joyful laughter and peaceful content to emotions you felt were unstable...you sensed a bit of helplessness paired with indifference, and the slightest hint of anger and contempt.

Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest idea to remind of them of the reason why they were ostracized so much, why they were seen as different. You mentally smacked yourself in the forehead, making a note to be more sensitive about the topic while you were in their presence.

The sound of a hardcover book snapping shut broke the silence, causing you to jump.

Namjoon gently placed the book he was reading on the couch’s armrest and looked at you with a cordial smile. “You should take better care of yourself, (Y/N). It wouldn’t do for you to fall asleep in your classes or end up unwell.”

With that sentence, the spell was broken.

Jimin gently took your forearm and tugged you into the direction of the sofa he was sitting on earlier, pouting as he spoke. “I should have known...you looked ready to drop since our break this morning.”

He seated you and took the place on your right as you waved him off. “It’s fine, it was my fault-”

“If you still want to rest, feel free to go back to the guest room!” Taehyung added, claiming the spot on the other side of you.

“Never feel like you have to hide how you feel around us, (Y/N).” Hoseok said with another winning grin, leaning forward in his seat.

You blinked warily at all of their support. “Well...thanks, guys.”

Your eyes stopped on Jungkook, who was staring at you, and his heavy gaze made you itch.

You leaned back in your seat and felt the sweater you’d woken up with start to slip.

You pulled it off of your shoulders, beginning to question how it even got there in the first place, and met eyes with Jungkook again. “Is this yours...?”

He nodded and opened his mouth to speak for the first time. “You were shivering in your sleep in the car. I thought you might need it, so I left it with you after I carried you in.”

You folded it and handed it back to him, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. “Thank you, Jungkook. Again, I’m sorry for falling asleep on you all like that.”

He took it from you, large eyes getting slightly wider in wonder.

“It’s alright, (Y/N). We’re glad to help you out with whatever you need.” Namjoon nodded and smiled, the dimple in his left cheek prominent. You smiled, a bit more relaxed now but still cautious of your behavior.

“Thank you for welcoming me to your lovely home, then.” You replied, admiring the layout once more.

“Aww, she thinks our home is lovely.” Taehyung gushed. “Seokjin hyung would love to hear that someone finally appreciates his taste in design.”

You cocked your head at him. “Your brother designed this living room?”

“Our eldest brother,” Jimin gushed. “He threw a huge tantrum a couple of years ago, complaining to our parents about how much he couldn’t stand the decor, so they let him draw up a design plan...then they ended up going along with it.”

“He and Yoongi hyung, our other brother, are usually studying away at college,” Taehyung went on. “Our parents bought them an apartment in the city so they could be closer to the campus, but because they have to be present for the meetings, they come back home for a bit every month.”

“They were here last night, but then they had to leave immediately.” Hoseok added.

Before the discussion could continue, you heard the sound of sharp clacks approaching the room.

“My darling sons,” A tilting voice spoke from the entryway and out came one of the most beautiful women you’d ever seen (aside from your mother, of course).

She glided across the wooden floor in sensibly high heels, a silk dress complementing her figure and a tan blazer resting on her shoulders. In her hands, she carried a silver tray full of neatly arranged snacks.

“I brought a little something for you all to enjoy! I know how hungry you all get-oh....who is this?” She slowed with a smile as she approached the couch.

Kim Eunbyul was not a person meant to be taken lightly. Her status in this town was no different than royalty, and she exemplified grace with every step that she took.

As expected of the two time winner of the Pluton Actress Award.

You stared at her in amazement before you quickly snapped back to your senses and rose, giving a polite bow in greeting. “Good evening, Mrs. Kim! I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” she hummed, laying the tray on the table. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Might I ask why you’ve decided to visit our humble home?”

“She’s here on my invitation, Mother.” Jimin spoke and your gaze snapped over to him in shock. His tone sounded so...flat, so unfazed, so unlike every other expression you’d heard him use today. “We have a group project for Mrs. Hargrove’s class, one that will be a considerable part of our grade.”

“Alright, I understand.” She chided him slightly, seemingly used to his attitude. She came to stand before you, leaning a good couple of inches above you. “Let me get a good look at you.”

You smiled at her—an actual smile this time, albeit a small one—as she grasped your hands in hers.

To your surprise, you could feel them tremble slightly.

You stood there, making an effort to avoid eye contact as she studied you. When you looked to the brothers’ in an attempt for nonverbal help, your breath hitched.

The siblings gazed at their mother with something likened to...no, something that was utter detestation.

Jungkook payed her no mind, his thumb obsessively stroking the sweater he held in his possession once more.

Hoseok and Taehyung openly glared at their mother behind her back, the elder’s lips frowning in annoyance and the younger’s twisting into a sneer.

Jimin’s eyes glued onto her, oozing indifference, his gaze all too similar to the one he’d sent Mrs. Hargrove earlier that day.

Namjoon simply watched his mother with cocky amusement glinting in his eyes.

Mrs. Kim gave your hands a gentle squeeze and she smiled. “You have a wonderful energy around you, my dear. You possess a wisdom far beyond your years, and great power as well. I advise you to be wary of some of the people around you, though. They may want to steal your power for themselves.” She gave a small sigh and pat the back of your hands before lowering them gently.

“Thank...you?” You smiled at her in polite confusion. As far as you knew, Mrs. Kim was an actress. No one had said anything about her being able to tell people’s fortunes.

Your classmates would have called her a witch.

But with her husband acting as Wylynne’s divine messenger, would she truly have no powers herself...?

“Of course, my dear.” She gave you one last smile. “Please, enjoy yourself, and make yourself right at home. Our doors will always be open to you.”

She then left the living room, not so much as sparing a glance towards her sons. Not that they would have wanted it anyway, for they looked as though they couldn’t stand a second longer of her presence.

You watched her go, leaving with the same grace that she came in with, but much quicker than before.

Your palm still tickled from the feeling of her trembling hand in yours.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon stood up, brushing off his uniform pants. “I wouldn’t take her prediction to heart. Our mother tends to do that to everyone she meets-”

“Are they true?”

“...What?”

Just as you started getting slightly comfortable in this bizarre atmosphere, Namjoon’s intense stare brought you back to the present, reminding you of your place.

“Is there some truth to her evaluations?” You innocently asked, trying not to cave under the weight of the older boy’s attention.

“I must admit, I wouldn’t know,” he chuckled, his gaze softening, “we’re the only ones she refuses to do a reading on.”

You nodded, intrigued. “I see. I just find those interesting, is all...”

“Well,” Jimin interrupted, hopping up and clapping his hands. “we should get started on our project!”

“I left my bag in the room, I should go get it.” You turned to go in the general direction of the hallway from which you came but was stopped by Taehyung gently grabbing your elbow.

“Here!” He stood up, toeing his sandals off and sliding them in your direction. “Jungkook took your shoes off and placed them at the front of the house with the rest of ours, so you might need these.”

“Oh! Thank you. I’ll be sure to return them before I leave.” You smiled at him.

He blushed and grinned in return.

Jungkook's hair fell into his eyes as he looked down in shame. “I should have prepared a pair of slippers for you while you were sleeping, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it!” You claimed, just to watch his eyes light up again.

“Good luck on the project, you two!” Hoseok said, turning to leave.

“Let me come with you, (Y/N)!” Jimin said, taking you by the hand. “We’ll be right back, Namjoon hyung!”

He pulled you towards the entryway and you heard the boys start to disassemble behind you, heading off toward their respective locations with the exception of Namjoon, who sat back down on the couch to wait.

You traipsed down the hallway with Jimin. “I think your mother is a lovely person,” you quietly stated.

Jimin didn’t pause, but his grip on your elbow tightened before he turned to you, eyes scrunched together because of his wide smile. “I’m glad you think so! I think she likes you as well.”

You smiled back at him, carefully watching his expression, before turning your gaze to the wood floor. He stood at the doorway as you grabbed your bag and arranged the bed.

When that was finished, the two of you walked down the hallway and met up with Namjoon, and ascended to the third floor of the home.

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

The Kims’ library looked like something out of Beauty and the Beast, though it was nowhere near as grandiose in height. Your inner bookworm squealed at the sight of all the books lining the shelves, as well as the plush couch and beanbags resting in the leftmost corner of the library.

You held on to the strap of your bag, following Jimin and Namjoon as they weaved their way through multiple bookcases.

Namjoon reached a dilapidated wooden shelf at the back of the room. His fingers trailed over the book backings and he backtracked and picked one up, blowing the dust off of it only to end up coughing. Jimin muffed his giggle as he covered his nose and mouth with his sweater sleeve.

“I believe this is what you were looking for,” he said once his coughing fit was over, “The Word of the Lost.”

What a fascinating title...

“Ah, yes, hyung! This is exactly what we needed!” Jimin’s eyes practically sparkled as he took the book from his brother. It was an old, leather bound thing and the glossy pages flashed underneath the dim library lights.

It reminded you of the older bibles with illuminated pages.

“Thank you for helping us look.” You said. Namjoon nodded toward you with his classic student-body-president smile.

“Of course. I thumbed through this book many times as a child.” Namjoon said. “I’m sure you both will be able to find a fascinating creature to do your report on.”

The three of you walked out from the labyrinth of shelves and you beelined toward the couch, making yourself comfortable.

Jimin came to sit next to you, placing the book on his lap and waving goodbye to his brother. While you were bent over retrieving your school materials, Namjoon returned the wave with a smirk and left the library, leaving the two of you to your work.

You pulled out your notebook and a writing utensil, turning to Jimin as your academic weariness set in once more. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” he stated, opening the book. “I don’t spend as much time in the library as Namjoon hyung, but I do remember there being a host of creatures in this book...”

UnFortunately, Namjoon’s recollection of the text was spot on. There were so many mythological creatures, you and Jimin were overwhelmed and didn’t know which one to pick.

“How about banshees?” Jimin suggested.

“The harbingers of death?” You mused. “I know of them. They’re one of my favorites.”

“Ah...then what about the wendigo?”

You shuddered. “I know about them as well; their folklore is so interesting, but so creepy.”

Jimin nodded, paging through the novel again. “We could research golems?”

You smiled and shook your head. “I’ve heard about them before relative to Jewish mythology...and they’re somewhat similar to the Egyptian ushabti.”

Jimin playfully groaned and dropped his head back onto the couch. “You’re so learned, (Y/N)! How did you hear about all of these mythological figures?”

You shrugged and smiled a bit, doodling in your notebook. “I’ve just come across them in some way or another...usually through the media.”

You gently took the book off of Jimin’s lap and decided to thumb through it yourself, turning to the chapter list to see the different branches of creatures. Your finger ran down the list before stopping at a certain name.

“...Jimin, have you ever heard anything about nephilim?”

He stiffened and his brows furrowed. “No. What are they?”

You flipped the book to the demonstrated page number and began reading. “‘Nephilim are creatures conceived of humans and angels. These fascinating individuals are born with immense amounts of both angelic grace and the original sin of human beings.’” You beamed. “Perfect! This creature sounds the most interesting-”

You turned to speak to Jimin and found his face uncomfortably close to yours. Gone was the innocent, boyish expression on his face, replaced by an endearing and inquisitive stare.

You immediately turned your head to look back down at the page. “-of the creatures...and the least known,” you mumbled, hoping he couldn’t see the tint of red on your cheeks.

Rather than taking the book for himself, Jimin started reading it over your shoulder. You tried not to breathe too hard with his proximity.

He’s too close...

“‘As they mature, they must come to terms with their proclivity to sin and balance it out with their angelic nature. Nevertheless, this arduous task often leaves them with an identity crisis, and most succumb to their sinful natures.’” Once he finished, he turned to you with an impressed look. “You’re right! This sounds really interesting, and if you haven’t heard of these figures, then they should definitely be the one we research.”

“Yeah! So we should get started, then,” you said, pulling out your laptop and casually reseating yourself a couple inches away from Jimin.

“Mrs. Hargrove wants us to do a presentation as well as write an essay for this project...which do you think we should we work on first?” You asked him, sending your mother your location, and opening a new tab.

“We could write the essay first, and then pull information from that to combine it with what we find from our research for the presentation.” Jimin suggested, taking out a laptop of his own.

“Sounds good! I shared a document with you.”

The both of you spent the next two hours on your computers, researching as many articles on nephilim as possible. It was somewhat difficult, finding authentic sources about the creatures rather than commentaries on media representations of them, but working off of what The Word of the Lost gave you, there was enough to compile a hefty source list.

After that, however, you, still mentally exhausted, started to get distracted, and then Jimin decided to take a break as well. The project was due near the end of the semester, and the two of you had made enough progress for tonight. You deserved this break.

Outside, the light changed from the orange afternoon sun to the cool blue of evening. Before your very eyes, the sky outside was purple, and the oranges and greens of the leaves had disappeared in the dark, turning into obscure figures and shapes outside the window that left you wanting to pull the curtains closed.

A couple of minutes later, you were startled by the click of the library doors.

Mrs. Kim peered through the opening. “Ah, there you both are!”

She approached you and Jimin with two glasses of water, one in each hand.

You took the glass she handed to you and expressed your thanks. Her hands didn’t seem to be trembling as much as they were earlier.

“How is it going?”

“We made a lot of progress--I think this project is going to be a good one.” You smiled at her and she returned it, relieved.

She raised a hand and paused, hesitantly lowering it gently into Jimin’s hair and stroking it lovingly. The boy froze, lowering the glass from his lips and turning to look at Mrs. Kim.

“Yes, thank you, Mother.” His tone remained flat.

She breathed out a sigh and nodded at him before turning to you. “(Y/N), darling, I believe your mother has arrived downstairs.”

Your eyes widened and you began packing your school materials. “Oh, really? She didn’t even tell me! I must have overstayed my welcome.”

Mrs. Kim laughed lightheartedly. “Not at all dear. It’s most likely because she encountered my husband along the way. They’re both seated downstairs, talking.”

On the outside, you managed to give Mrs. Kim a pleasant smile. On the inside, however, your thoughts were raging.

Why, of all people, would Kim Moonsik want to have a conversation with her?

If that old man tries to sacrifice my mother to his creepy little moon goddess, I swear, I’ll-

“I can take you to meet with her, no worries.” Mrs. Kim stated, bringing her blazer closer around her shoulders. “I’ll just wait for you outside.”

She glanced at Jimin once more and turned away, heels clacking on the floor as the click of the door sounded.

You zipped up your bag, having nothing else to pack, and pulled it over your shoulder.

Before you could stand to leave, however, Jimin gently took your hand in his.

“(Y/N), before you go, I just wanted to say thank you.”

The boy was looking down at his lap, his eyes covered by strands of his hair. You patiently waited for him to finish.

“I know everyone is suspicious of us and would rather not interact with us at all for fear of...” he paused on the last bit, “but you have been the only to one to approach us wholeheartedly.”

“Thank you for not treating us like freaks, or some sort of plague or disease like everyone else.” Jimin raised his head, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes.

You smiled and gently squeezed his hand. “Please, think nothing of it. Why would I treat you like something you’re not?”

“You and your brothers are all just people. You’re a family, just like how everyone else in this town has families.” You spoke quietly. “You may not be the most...orthodox of families, yes, but you’re hardly to blame for that. Who’s to decide what the norm is anyway?”

Besides, I have no reason to hurt you or yours, you thought.

Jimin huffed out a sob and gathered you in his arms in a hug. You grunted, as it was unexpected, but hesitantly raised your arms to pat him on the back.

“It’s alright,” you murmured.

Behind your back, Jimin did have tears falling down his face, but rather than a look of sorrow or suffering, sheer, hysterical glee appeared on his face.

He struggled to suppress the broad grin threatening to take over his expression.

The smell of your hair was intoxicating...

“I thank the goddess for you, (Y/N),” he murmured, low enough that you could not make out what he said.

He made sure he regained control of his expression and then pulled away from the hug with a soft smile. He stood up and took your bag for you, much like how you had taken his earlier that day, and led you to his mother, who was waiting outside.

The three of you walked down the two flights of stairs to find Namjoon, Hoseok, and their father speaking with your mother.

She was quite the visage in their home, sitting on the smaller gray sofa, still in her scrubs.

Kim Moonsik sat in front of her, with one of his sons on either side, looking like interviewers for a job position, while she sat on the edge of the couch opposite them, her hands placed in her lap and looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Yes, well, working at the hospital has its downsides, but it also has its valuable life experience,” you heard her say. “I truly enjoy caring for and working with all kinds of patients, as well as with the staff of the inter-professional team.”

You heard a hearty laugh, followed by the voice that you were supposed to only be subject to once a month.

“Careers like yours are crucial in the eyes of the moon goddess, Ms. (L/N). It sounds as though you’re doing a wonderful job.” Kim Moonsik grinned and nodded at your mother, who forced a laugh. “Wylynne looks down on you with favor.”

“Ah, thank you, Mayor Kim. Praise Wylynne...”

She made eye contact with you as you descended the staircase and quietly sighed in relief.

“There’s our guest for the evening!” Mr. Kim cheered and stood up, walking to stand in front of you and Jimin while his wife slipped by, pressing a kiss to his cheek, as she went to sit next to your mother.

Without the luminescent glow of the moon or the intimidating glow of purple flames streaking across his face, Kim Moonsik almost looked like any other successful businessman and father. He and his wife both had dark hair and dark eyes, and they appeared to be quite the happy couple.

But there was no way that the past several years of monthly meetings was a dream. There was plenty of reason for caution around them, no matter how pleasant they may seem.

Your mother had nagged enough sense into you for you to know that much, at the very least.

You bowed again, hoping your nerves weren’t showing through your voice. “Good evening, Mr. Kim. I’m (Y/N) (L/N). It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He chuckled in a good natured manner. “The pleasure is all mine...I trust you and Jimin were able to accomplish what you needed for your project?”

How did he know? “Ah, yes...we made loads of progress today.” You smiled politely.

“Eunbyul told me all about our visitors just before I arrived,” he responded as though he heard your question and smiled proudly, gently clapping Jimin on the back. “That’s amazing news to hear.”

Jimin smiled cordially, pulling you away from his father and walked over towards his brothers.

“(Y/N)-ie is leaving us now,” Hoseok fake pouted.

You grimace-smiled at him.

“Please,” Namjoon scoffed. “She’ll be over here so many times, we’ll start to get sick of her, right (Y/N)?”

“As long as you don’t mind having me over,” you said. “We have until the end of the semester to do the project, so, yeah, I might be over a couple more times...” You slowed as the reality of the situation started to hit. “Actually, Jimin, can I see your phone?”

He handed you his phone and you put your number in his contacts and texted yourself. “Now you have my number, and I have yours.” You smiled at him and handed the device back.

Jimin’s eyes widened in glee and he grinned in return. “Thanks, (Y/N)!”

Hoseok’s fists tightened his pockets.

Kim Eunbyul stood to her feet, her conversation apparently over. “You and your daughter are welcome any time,” she emphasized, placing a hand on your mother’s back.

“Indeed, Ms. (L/N), Our home is your home.” Kim Moonsik added, placing his hands on his wife’s shoulders.

“Thank you so much, we’re truly grateful for the invitation.” You heard your mother say.

You carefully slid Taehyung’s sandals off your feet and lifted them up. Jimin handed you your backpack in exchange for the sandals and you took it, swinging it over your shoulders. “Please tell Taehyung and Jungkook I said goodbye, and that it was lovely meeting you all.” You said.

“We will!” Hoseok smiled, waving goodbye.

“See you tomorrow at school!” Jimin called and waved enthusiastically.

You waved and bowed to the Kims one more time, then took your mother’s hand and walked down the front steps.

Her car was parked outside the garage (read: haphazardly strewn across the asphalt).

Your mother got into the front seat and put on her seatbelt without saying a word. Even when she began to drive, she was eerily silent.

It was not until the both of you were outside of the gates, down the hill, and outside of the forest that your mother abruptly stepped on the brakes and unbuckled her seatbelt, exiting the car.

You repeated her movements in alarm, slamming the passenger door shut and running to the other side of the car.

You got there just in time to watch as she keeled over on the side of the road and began to throw up.

“Mom!”

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

Back at the Kim household, the instant the two guests left, a violent chill swept across the room.

Hoseok went to stand threateningly in front of Jimin. “Don’t go around thinking you’re better than the rest of us.”

The younger boy’s grin morphed into a devilish sneer. “Be careful, hyung...it’s starting to sound like you’re jealous.” He shook his phone, still open to (Y/N)’s contact information, tauntingly.

Namjoon scoffed at their bickering before turning his attention to smile at Moonsik and Eunbyul. “Mother...Father...we bid you goodnight.”

Hoseok smirked, following Namjoon up the stairs.

Jimin made a move to go follow them as well, but he stopped in front of Eunbyul.

“Mother dearest.” The sophomore gripped the woman’s chin, turning her gaze to land directly on him. “As the most talented actress in our county, your performance could have been a bit more...convincing.”

He looked her up and down, and then released her, throwing her to the right and out of his direct path. Eunbyul stumbled to the side, her form quite visibly shaking.

“I look forward to seeing what you come up with in the future.”

Jimin shouldered Moonsik, climbing past him up to his room on the second floor.

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

Your mother had stopped throwing up, but you continued rubbing her back comfortingly.

She stood up on wobbly legs and you supported her on the way back to the car. You reached in your bag for your water bottle and some tissues, handing them to her.

She cleaned her mouth off, swished some water around in her mouth, spat it out the window, and then drank some more.

Before you could even ask if she was alright, she turned to you with another stern look. “I was so worried about you.”

Your eyes widened incredulously, but softened just as fast. “Mom, you didn’t have to worry! We were just working on a class project, like I said.”

Your mother nodded and sighed, putting the seatbelt back on. “I understand. It-it’s just terrifying to realize how close you were to-” She trailed off and tried again. “I mean, what if....”

This was a first, for you, to see your mother so visibly shaken.

She usually was, and is, the epitome of strength in your life. To think that seeing the Kims jarred her to this point...

You grasped your mother’s hand. “I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. They’re just people, Mom.”

“People can be just as dangerous as deities,” she whispered, putting the car into drive.

With that thought, the both of you sat in ominous silence until you had arrived at your home.

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

Once you and your mother arrived, you both had dinner and you ensured that she was able to go to bed of sound mind and heart. From the way she pushed you off of her, you surmised she had collected herself enough to return to her usual temperament.

You made your way up the stairs to your room and threw your bag somewhere near you desk, booking it to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, after a refreshing shower and a change of clothes, you sat at your desk. It was already significantly late, and you still had to complete the other classes’ homework that you didn’t have the chance to start while at the Kim’s.

As you basked in the comfort of your home’s walls, you felt truly relaxed for the first time that night.

Jimin and his brothers were, for the most part nice, although misunderstood. The student body usually stayed away from them because of their parents and the influence they had on this town.

Perhaps if this town were normal...

You sighed and immediately chased the thought away. This town was far from normal, that couldn’t be clear enough. And with Kim Moonsik in charge, the sense of unearthliness clearly wouldn’t change any time soon.

You spent the next couple of hours doing the other assignments to the best of your ability. When you deemed it enough, you decided to call it a night, packing your things away and climbing under the covers.

Just as you began scrolling through social media, your phone vibrated from an incoming notification and your brows furrowed.

Who was still awake at this hour? And why were they contacting you?

Perhaps it was Mana, you thought, begging to hear details about what it was like at the Kim house before tomorrow. You probably should have texted them when you got home, considering school was no longer the most....open place to have these discussions.

Nevertheless, you opened your messages and, to your surprise, there lay a text from none other than Kim Jimin.

I’m really glad I met you, (Y/N) 😇

Aww, that’s sweet of him, you thought.

You paused, wondering if you should pretend that you’re asleep rather than text him back right now, as the conversation could always continue in the morning.

You also thought of how he might nag you should he discover you’re awake at this hour after passing out in his car and at his house, and winced.

Yes, it would be best to ignore that until tomorrow morning.

Having had enough of the day, you put your phone to charge and pressed your head to the pillow, falling asleep.

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

As Jimin lay in bed that night, he thought about your comment earlier this afternoon.

“I’m so sorry about that, I just..didn’t get a lot of sleep last night...You could’ve woken me up, you know...”

It wasn’t the fact that they were reminded of the sacrifice last night that made them pause.

No, it was the fact that that worthless scum caused their beloved to lose precious hours, minutes, and even seconds of sleep.

Almost every meaningful contribution Natalia Pierre gave life, served to make yours more difficult than it already was.

She should have been a sacrifice much, much sooner.

On the other hand, they should have thanked her, they supposed. For it was her demise that led you to sleep so silently, so soundly in their presence.

They had finally gotten the opportunity to see you at your most vulnerable, and they couldn’t get enough of it.

But they reined in their greed and held any dominating thoughts at bay. For patience was the art of the game.

Sooner or later, willingly or unwillingly, you would present yourself to them and their company.

And they would welcome you with open hearts and open arms.

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

~taglist~

@melaninkpops @loserwithapen @hellaspookystudent @ecillartto @omgsuperstarg @ace-angel-judas @jjamsbangtan @lovinggalaxies @lovesick-heart0 @ksxmpoison @girlmeetsliv3 @thedarkwinterrose @purpuravm @oneweirdbean @hopelessfountainjoonie @mazmaz30 @enigmaticlove-03 @uppiespuppy

#yandere bts x reader #yandere bts #yandere #ot7 #ot7 x reader #yandere ot7 x reader #yandere kim seokjin #yandere min yoongi #yandere jung hoseok #yandere kim namjoon #yandere park jimin #yandere kim taehyung #yandere jeon jungkook #high school au #college au #supernatural

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johaerys-writes · 3 years

Text

Fandom: The Song of Achilles

Pairing: Achilles/Patroclus

For Day 6: Modern!AU of @patrochillesweek 2021! High school AU, where Patroclus is the new kid in school, and Achilles a teacher’s pet and a menace. Academic rivals with a dash of pining, ~2.9k words, Part 1/3 :)

Read here or on Ao3!

Chapter 3: On a Sunny Tuesday Afternoon, The Late Sunlight Glowing In Your Hair

The new school was, by far, the largest Patroclus had been in.

There was a football field and a basketball court and a pool, and the domed ceiling of the main hall was so high, the top of it disappeared into the shadows overhead.

Patroclus stood in the midst of it, his backpack hanging limply over his shoulder.

“Well? What do you think?”

He turned to look at Briseis beside him. She had been the very first person to speak to him the moment he set foot in the place earlier that morning. Mr Chiron, the headteacher, had tasked her with showing him around before they would all gather for the first class, and she had jumped at the chance. Patroclus had a feeling she would have done so even if nobody had asked her to.

He gave her a small smile, trying his best to hide his nervousness. He never liked the first couple of days in a new school overly much, though he was kind of used to it now. “It’s… big.”

“Right?” She beamed, her dark brown eyes gleaming. “Wait till you see the library. You’re going to be scooping your jaw off the floor.”

“There’s a library?” Patroclus asked, instantly perking up. His last school didn’t have one; or, rather, it did, but it had closed down after a small fire had caught there three years before, and no one had bothered to repair it and open it up for the students again.

Briseis laughed, her high ponytail swinging as she tilted her head back. She had thick, lustrous dark brown hair that shimmered in the light. “My goodness, of course there is! We’re not animals. Well, at least not all of us. Come.” She took his hand. “I’ll show you.”

He let her guide him through the corridors, the sunlight flickering when they passed before the windows that lined the walls. The courtyard was filled with students talking excitedly, catching up after the long summer break, lying on the grass and soaking the last of the sun before getting back into class.

Grass. Another thing that would take Patroclus a while to get used to. Most of the schoolyards he’d seen so far were plain concrete, without a single tree in sight. Quite depressing, all things considered, but after a while it simply blended into the background.

“Mr Chiron lets us borrow as many books as we like, as long as we return them on time,” Briseis said excitedly, her arm wound through his. Her hair smelled of her subtle floral perfume, the scent of it wafting every time her ponytail bounced this way and that. “He’s very kind, actually, and he knows so many things. Really, I’m not sure there’s something this man doesn’t know, especially when it comes to the classics. And he’s always eager to help. If you need anything, just—”

The rest of her sentence was drowned out by loud laughter, which rose from a group of people to their left. Boys and girls were gathered under the shade of an oak tree, talking and laughing amidst themselves, music blasting from someone’s phone. It didn’t take long for Patroclus to know they were the popular kids; he’d been to so many different schools, that he could recognise them straight away.

Polished hair, fancy clothes, expensive shoes. The noise they made was enough to grab the attention of everyone in the yard. The football team, no doubt, judging by the gym bags hanging off of most of the boys’ shoulders, and the cheerleaders with them, perhaps.

Patroclus’ gaze almost slid right off them and he kept on walking— that had never been never his crowd, no matter where he found himself— but a flash of… something unexpected made it snag, like fabric on a hook. It was the morning sun’s reflection on a blonde head, the colour so rich and vibrant that it looked as if made of gold. Patroclus' eyes zoomed in on the owner of said head before he could stop them. He was leaning against the tree trunk, hands in his pockets, smiling slightly at something someone was saying to him. He stood tall, his pose easy and relaxed, his self-assured smile only a touch indifferent. Confidence seemed to radiate off of him like heat.

The boy turned to look at him, then, straight at him, and Patroclus realised that just as he had never seen hair as golden, he had never seen eyes as green either. They cut right through him, pinning him in place. Patroclus stared, despite himself.

It was as if time had stopped for the briefest of moments; the single beat of a butterfly's wings.

Then, just like that, it was over. The boy's gaze slid off of him soon after, like water off oiled leather, taking a tiny bit of that heat away with it. The sun traced the side of his angular jaw, his high cheekbones, the line of his smooth throat.

Briseis clicked her tongue and moved straight on. “Ugh, they’re all so loud and annoying. Why they would think that everyone wants to hear that terrible music they keep playing, I’ll never understand.”

“Who… are they?” Patroclus asked, following her, though he knew the answer already.

“The jocks and the cheerleaders, and whoever else they deem fit to join their company. Pay them no mind. As long as you stay out of their way, they’ll stay out of yours.”

Patroclus swallowed, nodding. He burned to ask her who that boy he had seen was, but he held his tongue.

Knowing when to speak and when to stay silent: that was something he’d picked up from the many schools he’d visited as well.

“So,” Mr Chiron said in his booming, yet somehow still deep and gentle voice, “last year we talked about the wars between ancient Greek states, particularly the Peloponnesian war. Who remembers the names of the main forces that fought in that war?”

Patroclus’ book on ancient Greek history was open before him, but he didn’t need to check it to know the answer. He started to raise his hand, but Briseis was faster, her hand jolting up above her head.

“Yes, Briseis?”

“The Delean league, led by the Athenians, and the Peloponnesian league, led by the Spartans,” she said, sitting straight in her chair.

“Very well. And who were the prominent figures of each army?”

The answer was quick to come, from somewhere to the far end of the class. The blonde boy that Patroclus had glimpsed in the yard was sitting lazily in his chair, arms folded before his chest. His desk was bare; he hadn’t even bothered to take his textbooks and his notebooks out of his bag yet. “Lysander on the side of the Spartans, Alcibiades on the side of the Athenians.”

“Good, good.” Mr Chiron stroked his short beard, pacing slowly across the classroom. “Who can tell me what Alcibiades was known for?”

“Besides being Socrates’ lover, you mean?” he drawled, to which several chuckles rose. Patroclus blinked, taken aback that he would speak to Mr Chiron in such a way. Not only that, but the fact that he had so casually dropped such a detail from Plato’s Symposium , which had never even been part of the taught material in school, was enough to stir Patroclus’ curiosity.

Mr Chiron glanced at him over his glasses. “No, Pelides,” he said, stern but still somehow amused. “Not quite.”

Pelides —as Mr. Chiron had called him— quirked a brow. “Not for lack of trying.”

That made the boys snicker even more and the girls grin behind their hands. Pelides’ lips curled in a satisfied smirk, not losing even a tiny bit of that unshakeable confidence. Mr Chiron, instead of reprimanding him, shook his head fondly. Smart, handsome and well-read, an athlete and a teacher’s pet, arrogant yet still likeable.

Who was he, exactly?

“It is true that Alcibiades was notorious for having pursued Socrates relentlessly for a while after the two first met. Still, this isn’t quite what the man was most well known for. Ah.” The kindly teacher’s eyes fell to Patroclus, who had raised his hand timidly again. “Menoitiades. Care to tell us?”

Patroclus took a deep breath, ignoring the eyes that drifted in his direction. They never failed to make him uneasy. “For his unconventional battle strategies,” he said, keeping his voice as steady as he could. “He relied on his cunning to win challenging battles, breaking sieges and taking over towns through treachery and negotiations rather than brute force. That earned him powerful enemies, but also powerful allies, the Athenian orator Demosthenes being one of them. After his success in the Battle of Hellespont, he was considered a military genius, though not without his flaws. Many believed him conceited and reckless, his excessive self-confidence often leading him to overwhelming failures. Like the Sicilian expedition, for instance, which ended with the Athenians losing almost the entirety of their fleet. They never quite recovered from that; Alcibiades was thought to be one of the main reasons Athens ultimately lost the war.”

Silence followed his words after he was done. Everyone was staring at him now. Even Pelides had shifted in his chair to look at him, his jade green eyes piercing him to the bone. Patroclus swallowed, snapping his mouth shut. “Or so it is said, at least,” he mumbled, hunching his shoulders slightly.

Mr Chiron’s head was tilted to the side in curiosity. “Yes,” he said. “Precisely. Very well said. I’m surprised you know about the Sicilian expedition; we didn’t touch upon it last year. I don’t think it was even in last year’s book—”

“It isn’t,” Patroclus said hastily, already regretting having gotten carried away like that. “I just… like to read.”

“I can see that,” Mr Chiron nodded appreciatively. He turned towards the rest of the class, clearing his throat. “Now. Everyone, open your textbooks on page three.”

Patroclus focused on the page before him, warmth creeping up his cheeks. He could still feel Pelides’ eyes from across the room, fixed unwavering on him.

He dared not look up to meet them.

Patroclus had always been a good student. Straight A’s, top-of-the-class kind of student. His teachers usually loved him for his quiet and respectful demeanour, and he was given the privilege of handling the class attendance book more often than not, something that had always been reserved for those deemed most responsible. He had thought that this would be the case in this school, as well.

Apparently, it was not. Not when Pelides was around— and he was around . History, Ancient Greek, Latin, Maths, Science and Philosophy: there were hardly any courses that they didn’t share, and no course at all that he wasn’t stellar at. He usually knew all the answers, and delivered them with infuriating self-assurance, something that exasperated and entertained the teachers to no end.

Patroclus wasn’t competitive by nature. He simply wanted to do well— no, he wanted to do more than well. He always tried his best, studied hard enough that his grades were the best they could be, his teachers satisfied and his father had no reason to scold him. Competitiveness had nothing to do with it. But, when it came to Pelides, Patroclus wanted to do better, be better. Every time the teacher called Patroclus’ name instead of his, his heart lurched just a little in his chest with that tiny triumph. He would answer as thoroughly as he could, knowing he would impress him. Yet, even when Pelides was first to answer, Patroclus couldn’t help but listen to what he had to say, every time more enthralled than the last. The way his eyes sparkled in satisfaction and his face brightened ever so slightly, the way he twirled his pens with his long fingers while he spoke… And those glances over his shoulder, curiosity mixed with a strange sort of pride, his smooth cheeks framed by the waves of his golden hair—

There was something about him.

Patroclus couldn’t put his finger on it. Soon, he found himself studying more than he ever had, well into the small hours of the morning, just for a chance to prove himself to him, to best him. To have those eyes on him, even for a fleeting second.

It was a late Tuesday afternoon, and Patroclus was in the cafeteria with Briseis and the other girls. It was their last long break of the day before the final classes would take place and they would be free to go home. The girls were talking animatedly about this and that, but Patroclus barely heard them. His Science textbook was open in his lap, his headphones blocking out most of the noise. He thumbed the music on high, getting lost in mechanical oscillation theory.

The table before him quaked when something landed on it.

Patroclus looked up, startled, the book almost falling out of his grasp. Then, he stared.

And stared.

Pelides was sitting squarely on the table before him. His aureate locks were gathered up in a bun, damp from his shower after football practice. Stray strands caressed his perfectly shaped ears, his petal smooth forehead.

How can someone’s skin be so soft? Patroclus wondered idly through his shock and his haze. Even from that close, he could not find a single blemish.

Pelides’ mouth moved, yet no sound came out.

Right. The headphones.

Patroclus switched off the music and pulled his headphones back, letting them hang around his neck.

“Hello,” Pelides said.

“Uh…” Patroclus swallowed, feeling the familiar flush rushing to his cheeks. “Hello? Hi.”

“I’m Achilles. Achilles Pelides.”

“Right,” Patroclus said thickly, “I know you.”

“Yeah. We’re in most classes together. I thought I’d come to say hello.” Achilles smiled brightly at him. “So. Hello.”

Patroclus stared stupidly. He didn’t quite know what to say. “Um… yeah. Hello.”

The girls around the table had stopped talking, gawking at them instead. Patroclus glanced around him, at the heads that were slowly turning in their direction.

“You’re Menoitiades, right?” Achilles tilted his head to the side. God, even that tiny movement was done with more grace than Patroclus would achieve at any point in his life. “It’s been a week, and I still don’t know your first name.”

“Patroclus,” he said hastily, blurring the syllables like he usually did when he was nervous. “But everyone calls me Pat. You can call me that.”

“Patroclus,” Achilles said in his soft, melodious voice. “Pa-tro-clus.” He smiled just a little, the late afternoon sun that streamed in through the window glossing his hair, the angles and planes of his face, the delicate curve of his neck. “It’s a beautiful name. I’m going to call you that, if you don’t mind.”

Patroclus' palms were damp and clammy in his lap; he wiped them on his trousers. No one had ever said his name like this before, slow and purposeful. Patroclus had never liked his name much, but coming from him it sounded different. Almost… special. His heart clawed at his chest like a cat kennelled in his ribs.

“I— I don’t mind,” Patroclus replied, mouth dry as a chip. “I don’t mind at all.”

A brief moment of silence passed before Achilles spoke again. He cleared his throat, taking on a serious expression. “There’s a Latin test coming up next week,” he said matter-of-factly. “I was wondering— I mean, I was thinking— would you like to study with me?”

Patroclus gaped like a fish out of water. “Study?” he echoed.

“Sure. You’re rather good at it, yeah? I've seen you in class. I thought— well, I could use your help.” He paused, considering, “Or you could use mine. You know, strength in unity.” He smiled hopefully, and something warm curled in Patroclus’ belly. “So, what do you say?”

Patroclus' pulse soared, throbbing in his throat. He could feel all eyes in the cafeteria turned to them, but for once he didn’t care. Achilles’ attention on him eclipsed everything else in the room, the noise and chatter turning into distant whispers under the searing heat of his gaze.

“Yes,” Patroclus whispered. He couldn't have uttered a different answer even if he tried. “Yes.”

Achilles beamed, a smile brighter than the sun that fell about him like a halo. “Great. That’s great.” He deftly hopped off the table, slinging his backpack over his shoulder with the grace of a feline. “Meet me at the library after school?”

Patroclus nodded, his tongue too numb in his mouth to form words.

“Awesome.” Achilles grinned before he turned around.

Patroclus sat perfectly still for a long while, staring after him.

What on earth had just happened?

“What was that?” Briseis hissed in his ear, coming to sit beside him. “Did I hear correctly? Did Pelides ask you to study together?”

“Yeah… I think that’s what happened. Is that what really happened?” He could have dreamed it all.

“Of course that’s what happened! I was right here. I heard everything. I just — you know— wanted to make absolutely sure.” Her ponytail bounced vigorously as she shook her head. “Be careful with him. He’s an oddball.”

Patroclus looked at her curiously. “How so?”

“He’s friendly with pretty much everyone, but no one really knows him. You know?" She frowned at Achilles' back as he walked away. "Here and there he goes with his entourage, but ask anyone what he likes to do in his free time and no one will be able to tell you. They say he has a black belt in tae kwon do and that he’s unbeatable at high jump, but no one knows for sure. And he never studies with anyone else. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him study, period; he just shows up in class knowing everything. Don’t know how he does it. Pretty annoying, that.” She pouted in thought, her rosy lips pursing. “He doesn’t really let anyone close, and everyone has their own theories about him. The guy’s a mystery.”

Patroclus gazed in Achilles’ direction. His back was straight and his shoulders swung ever so slightly as he walked, his legs moving with the grace of a dancer. He was part of the crowd yet seemed separate from it, a star in orbit, shining the brightest because it stood alone.

“Yes,” Patroclus agreed quietly. “He is.”

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated :) If you enjoyed this, I’d love to hear your thoughts! <3

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