#its just. about how i feel :) which is normal in case you were wondering

[boinday]

I am so normal about the way they interact what do you mean

#can't i be a little obsessed with my own ocs? (the answer is yes) #its about. the fact that I know. that literally every time they are together roha is fighting the urge to touch her #its about. the hands #how close they get #how close he lets them get #how fleeting the indulgence is when he lets himself have one #how rose has not been raised in an environment where social touching is accepted outside of blood relatives #and even then tends to be minimal #and how roha expresses affection pretty exclusively through physical touch with his crew family #its just. about how i feel :) which is normal in case you were wondering #rose tide rising #rtr comic #my art #webcomic #webtoon canvas

[i-cant-sing]

I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.

No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.

Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.

Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.

Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).

The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"

And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.

You didn't like either nickname.

Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.

Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.

And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.

Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.

Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.

"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"

After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.

The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.

It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"

Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.

Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.

You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.

You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.

It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.

"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."

She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.

She died on the spot.

Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.

She wasn't a fucking Wayne.

If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.

But you didn't.

When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.

"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"

You sighed. Might as well get this over with.

You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.

"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."

Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"

"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."

"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.

"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.

"But I don't want you to move-"

You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"

Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.

"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"

Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"

"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.

-

They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.

He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.

Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.

"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.

"What now?"

"Where are you going?" Tim asked.

"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.

"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?

"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.

"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.

You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-

They were all dead serious.

"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.

"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.

"Bruce-"

"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."

"I'm fine-"

"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."

You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.

Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.

After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere jason todd

[signedkoko]

Ah I jsut wanted to say that I ADORE how you write HH Mammon- he is everything to me <3

So long as your up for it, I was hoping you could write Mammon with an s/o who casually refers to him as their husband (they’re not married)? Maybe they’re talking to someone while Mammon’s in the room and he overhears them say “yeah! My husband was saying…” like it’s the most normal thing in the world!

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!!

Mammon X Reader [Romantic]

In which you refer to Mammon as your husband, despite the fact that you aren't married. Genderneutral reader.

You and Mammon have been together for a couple years now

You'd met all the milestones, like moving in together, nicknames, and for him personally, not being exploited!

It was a feat no one had ever performed—to gain the sin of greed's trust—and it was one you were extremely proud of

Mammon never said much about it, since he never really thought about partners and just took you partially for granted

You were his, and in some way, he viewed you as a soulmate

Like, yeah? Of course you're with him? It was meant to be. Duh.

Even so, asking you out was already something that took almost a year for him, so a proposal felt so far away that he hadn't really considered it

It's not like there was a 'good age' to propose, nor did the two of you have mutual friends that married, so it was far out of his peripherals

At least, that was the case until one evening when you were at the clown pageant rehearsals, talking to some of the performers

Fizzarolli and you had a bit of rapport, and the imp always tried to make small talk with you

Mammon wasn't really listening, just looking around, when he overheard the two of you speaking

" So. What's it like to date Mammon? Not to intrude! I just can't really imagine him...like that. "

" Not intruding! Well, he's not your average guy, but he's a lovely husband. He always... "

Your voice faded out as he took in the word husband, and his jaw dropped

Fuck, yeah, okay, husband? Had he proposed in his sleep?

No way, you didn't have a ring, and he would never skimp out on a ring for you

Then he felt a strange guilt

He hurriedly vanished back to his office, marching back and forth, muttering out his thoughts

He hadn't even thought about it, but clearly you had

What if you were getting sick of him not asking? How could he have glossed over something so important to you?

Planning for a proposal begins then, as busy as he is with the pageant, you take a priority in his life

Might even call up Lucifer just to ask about spouse-having

Author's Note - Omg, thank you so much for the compliments! I feel like its a necessity because I have so many requests for him that its one of my auto recommended tags LMAO Thank you so much for requesting! I answered this so fast sorry if thats scary 🥂

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #mammon #mammon x reader

[castiwls]

Hii

I was wondering if you could so something with a dean x reader where one of them gets attacked by a djinn and their fantasy involves the other person?

djinn - d.w

pairing; Dean x fem!reader

synopsis; A Djinn's coma causes Dean to come to a realisation

warnings; none

notes; Idk how i feel about the ending of this one

masterlist

Dean groaned as he squinted at the light snaking through the gap in the curtains. Throwing an arm over his eyes he turned pulling the covers up with him. How much did he drink last night? He hadn’t had a hangover this bad in years.

Deciding sleep was the best idea he pulled the cover higher and closed his eyes. The room was quiet for a few minutes as he lay still, his head still throbbing. 

“Dean. Come on you need to get up. You're going to be late.” Someone reached over and pulled the cover down despite his protests. A hand shook his shoulder briefly before he felt a dip in the bed. The hand which had previously been in his hair moved upwards and began carding through his hair slowly. “Dean, come on.” 

Dean frowned slightly. He knew that voice. “Y/n?” He opened his eyes slightly and stared at the person beside him in slight shock. You smiled at him, your hand continuing its movements. “You need to stop drinking at night.” Your voice was still quiet but there was a hard edge to it. “You promised you’d stop.” 

What was going on? This wasn’t normal…at all. Sure you’d been on his case about his drinking habits for ages but you’d never been this nice about it. Normally you’d just make some snarky comment about how he was drinking himself to an early grave before pushing him to bed.

He rubbed at his eyes sitting up slowly. He slowly took in his surroundings as his body seemed to finally wake up. This wasn't the motel. His eyes darted around the room for a moment before landing on you. You looked…different.

You looked happier. The stress lines which seemed to be prematurely forming were gone and those dark bags which seemed a constant under your eyes were gone. Satisfied that he was up you stood from the bed. “You have an hour till you need to go.” 

Dean frowned clearing his throat. The headache seemed to be subsiding. “Go where?” At his words, your frown deepened. A look of concern crossed your face. “The garage. You said you would cover a shift for Bobby remember?”

Dean quickly nodded. “Yeah, yeah sorry just not with it this morning.” You shook your head before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking out of the room. 

Dean felt his cheeks heat up at the affection. While he couldn’t lie that he enjoyed it, the action also caused warning alarms in his head.

You and Dean weren’t a thing. You’d always just been his best friend nothing more. He slowly stood and walked over to the drawers pushed up against the wall and pulled a few open till eventually he found his own stuff. He’d never seen this house before in his life yet as he looked around the room it seemed that he had lived here for a while. The bedroom alone had pictures dotted around, things he had no memory of.

The last thing he remembered before waking up here was being in a barn on a hunt with Sam and the real you. He rubbed his neck as he racked his brain. What had you all been hunting?

Suddenly it hit him. A Djinn. “Fuck. Fuck.” He kicked the leg of the bed in frustration. That son of a bitch had managed to get the jump on him. He needed to get out of this dreamland fast. 

After calming himself down and getting dressed Dean made his way through the house. As he’d gotten dressed he’d been thinking of a plan. He had to wake up his actual body somehow and then get out of the barn. So far though he had no idea how to do that.

His only hope was that you and Sam would realise that he’d been grabbed and go after him. 

After a few moments, he found himself standing in the doorway to a small kitchen. At the sound of his steps (fake), you turned to face him. “There’s coffee in the pot.” You gestured to the counter beside you before you went back to cooking. 

Was this really his fantasy? Yeah sure, maybe his feelings for you weren’t exactly platonic but he didn’t realise they went this far. While he knew he had to wake up part of him didn’t want to. For the first time in years, you looked calm. You seemed the happiest he’d seen as you moved around the kitchen, humming softly.

“So, um.” He cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter. “Any plans for today?” He cursed himself internally at how awkward he was being but he had to at least act like he had an idea of what was going on.

You pursed your lips for a moment before coming over to him. You stopped in front of him before speaking. “Not much. Probably just more wedding planning I guess.” You shrugged not noticing his expression. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask if you were happy with the quote for the venue. They need a response by tomorrow.” You stepped back before reaching for two plates from behind him.

Dean stood still as he digested what you had just dropped on him. You were getting married. To him. 

“Uh yea. Yeah, it was nice.” He nodded. You smiled as you turned with two plates. “Great I’ll call them later.” 

Dean followed behind you as you walked over to a small table. He was getting married.

What else was different in this ‘fantasy’

You frowned stepping over a pile of you didn’t even know what. “He has to be here somewhere.” You whispered as Sam shone the flashlight around the old barn.

“Over there” Sam shined the light to a corner of the barn. You could just make out the shape of a person strung up. You and Sam had managed to get rid of the Djinn relatively easily, the hard part was finding his hideout. The creature hadn’t exactly been willing to talk.

You’d only managed to figure it out due to Dean mentioning to you before he left that he was going to a barn a few miles from the motel.

You both rushed over and began to untie him. “Dean! Hey Dean.” Sam shook his brother harshly for a moment. Dean let out a quiet groan before his eyes slowly opened. “Wha-where.” He stumbled over his words for a moment before rubbing at his eyes.

Y/n crouched down beside Sam and reached out to place a hand on Dean’s arm. “Are you ok?” 

Dean nodded. He slowly pulled himself to his feet stumbling slightly. You quickly reached out to steady him. Dean’s eyes flew down to where your hand rested on his arm.

His heart picked up slightly at the touch before he cleared his throat and looked back up to where you were looking back with a concerned expression. He cleared his throat trying to push the woozy feeling in his stomach away.

As the three of you walked back to the car he found his gaze falling on your left hand. Dean had never been one for marriage or even crushes for that matter but for the first time in his life, he felt himself longing for something which seemed so far out of reach.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #spn reader insert #spn fanfic #spn imagine #dean winchester fluff #sam winchester x reader #.mine #.spn #.deanwinchester #.req

[supernaturalgirl20]

ok ok i have a joel x reader request. maybe after settling down in jackson, reader has some guys approaching her and flirting which makes joel feel insecure and like reader would be better off without him? she has to reassure him that he’s the one for her. maybe some smut but just very soft and loving perhaps

Love this request 🥰 thanks nonnie, hope you enjoy 😊

A Fool for You

Pairings: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, explicit, unprotected sex, slight age gap, insecure Joel, self doubt, flirting, slight jealousy, smidge of angst,cursing, fluff.

Comments and reblogs really appreciated 🥰

Joel waited patiently at the gates for the morning patrol party to return, more specifically, you. He hated when you did patrols without him, but Tommy had insisted you help out with the new crew that had arrived last month.

He’d grumbled about it, but you’d assured him you’d be fine. Joel knew you could handle yourself. That wasn’t the issue. He didn’t trust the new guys, not one bit. It didn’t help that they seemed enamoured with you. Always watching you with their lust-filled eyes. 

“They’re not back yet?” Ellie asked as she sidled up beside him. His gaze turned towards her, and he shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“She’ll be ok, ya know? She can handle herself just fine.” Ellie was trying her best to reassure him, but he couldn’t shake the anxiety that had settled in the pit of his stomach. Ellie’s laugh startled him from his thoughts and when he met her gaze again, she was bowled over with laughter. 

“You’ve got it bad man.” She smacked his arm as she continued to laugh causing a scowl to form on his face. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ bout”, he grumbled as he huffed out a breath, his gaze fixed firmly in the gate. 

“Sure ya don’t. You should just tell her how you really feel and then you can finally give her that ring you’ve been squirrelling away.” Ellie looked at him then with her eyebrows raised, a silent challenge for him to correct her but he didn't. 

How the hell did she find out about the ring? He thinks to himself as tries to steal his expression, not wanting to prove her right. Of course, Ellie would know how he truly felt. There wasn’t much he was able to keep hidden from her, she could read him like a book. 

“She loves you too, ya know? In case you were wondering. You two are about as subtle as a sledgehammer.” The sound of the gate opening captured her attention and she missed the way Joel’s face lit up. 

Did you really love him? He loves you. There’s no doubt in his mind about how he feels about you; he just doesn’t know if you feel the same. The relationship you both had was undefined, but you lived together, you slept in the same bed and took pleasure from each other’s bodies and to everyone in Jackson, you were Joel’s girl. 

Could you truly love him? 

Hope began to bloom deep inside him and when he saw you enter through the gate, he couldn’t help the smile that edged its way onto his face. 

“See I told you, she’s just fine,” Ellie’s voice sounded from beside him, startling him. He’d forgotten she was standing there and when he looked down at her she tilted her head in your direction. “Go on then. Go get her.”

“Ain’t, you supposed to be at school?” He asked, his eyebrow raised in question. She simply shrugs her shoulders before winking at him and turning to leave. He smirks after her, silently wondering how he got lucky enough to get a second chance at a normal life. 

“Hey, are you waiting here long? One of the new girls had a meltdown out there. It's what took so long to get back.” Joel’s eyes take you in, searching for any signs that you might have been hurt and when he finds none, he breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Not long. Just glad you’re ok. Ain’t lettin Tommy make this a regular thing though. I ain’t been able to sit still all mornin’.” 

You smile up at him as his gaze drifts to the others filing into the town behind you. He clenches his fists as he spots some of the new guys ogling you. The fuck they looking at?

He feels a rage begin to simmer beneath the surface of his skin and without thinking much about it he wraps his arms around you and crashes his lips to yours. You gasp at first, shocked by his sudden display of affection, something he never does but it quickly turns into a soft moan as he licks along your bottom lip and his hands grab your ass. 

What’s gotten into him? You think to yourself as you wind your hand around his neck. Just as it starts to get a little heated, he pulls away and glares over your shoulder. You follow his line of sight and suddenly it all makes sense. 

He’s jealous. 

Jake and Dillon are both glancing in your direction and his hands grip your hips a little tighter causing the smile on your face to widen. 

“You ain’t gotta worry about them Miller. I’m all yours.” You tease and he quickly glances at you before grumbling under his breath. You take his hand in yours and lead him away from the crowd gathered at the gate towards your shared home. 

“Come on, I’m starving. Let’s go home.”

***

Joel made sure after that - having threatened Tommy enough - that you were always on the same patrol. It always made him uneasy when you went out of Jackson without him. 

Everyone knew you were his lady. It didn’t have to be announced, it was just the way it was.

Apparently though, the new guys didn’t seem to get the message and with each patrol they began to flirt more with you, and it did nothing to help with his ever growing insecurities. 

He’d always felt like you were too good for him. Since way back in the Boston QZ and he ignored his feelings for you by hooking up with Tess. She knew of course, nothin slipped past that woman. 

You were smart, beautiful and a little bit younger and as time passed by and you became more settled into this new life, he began to question if you were better off without him. 

“Hey,” your voice startled him from his thoughts and as he looked up at you, leaning against the door to your shared room, he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hey darlin’, everythin alright?” You nodded your head as you pushed away from the door frame. 

“Yep, just wanted to see if you wanted to come to the Tipsy Bison, the patrol crew are all meeting for a well-deserved drink.” You made your way towards him, settling yourself between his open legs and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Gotta head over to the stables and fix up the fence, but you head on over, as soon as I’m done, I’ll join ya.” He lifted his hand to brush some hair off your face, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“M’okay.” His hand drifts behind your neck and pulls you close. His lips meet yours in a soft kiss before he pulls away and pats your ass. “Go on now, or we’ll both be late.”

You smile down at him as you peck his lips once more and turn to leave. Joel let out a sigh as the sound of the door closing echoed through the house. He needed to stop thinkin like that. 

***

Your laughter is the first thing he hears as he pushes open the door to the Tipsy Bison. It’s a sound he’s grown to love over the years you’ve been together, and it always brings a smile to his face. 

The smile quickly turns to a scowl though as he stands at the entrance, the door swishing behind him. His stomach twists into knots and his heart thunders within his chest when he sees you standing at the bar with Dillon. 

He’s clearly said something funny which explains your laughter but that’s not what bothers Joel. It’s the way he’s standing too close, his hand gently touching your arm. It’s the way his eyes keep drifting to your lips. 

Those doubts and insecurities simmer to the surface, and he panics. What if you want someone more like Dillon? Someone stronger. Someone younger. Joel can’t take it anymore and before you can spot him, he turns and leaves, making his way home. 

He bursts into the house, the front door slamming behind him echoing through the air as he rushes past the kitchen and up the stairs. 

“Hey, everything alright?” Ellie’s voice shouts after him but he doesn’t answer. “Okay then,” she mutters as she continues to fill her bag. 

***

The laughter dies in your throat the minute Dillon’s hand touches your arm. He was sweet and very funny, but you didn’t have any interest in him like that. Not when you were madly in love with Joel. 

As if your mind had conjured him, you see him in the doorway of the bar, his back to you as he makes a hasty exit. Was he not going to join you?

You're not sure what Dillon is talking about now that your mind is on Joel. With a wry smile you turn back towards him. “I’m gonna head out, ok?”

You down the rest of your whiskey and turn to leave but Dillon’s hand on your wrist stops you. 

“I thought we were having a good time,” he says, his tone a little clipped. Your eyes drift to where he’s touching you and you quickly pull your hand away. “Look, you’re a nice guy but I’m not interested. I love Joel. I’m his.”

“That old sack of shit,” he jeers, and you can feel the anger bubbling beneath the surface of your skin. 

“What did you say?” He laughs again and you clench your fist tight. “I said he’s an old sack of shi…”

“Fuck! You bitch.” He cries as you punch him squarely in the face. He holds his nose as blood flows freely from it, trickling down over his hand. 

“You better watch what you say about my man. Cause I ever hear you say shit like that again,” you lean in close, your breath tickling the skin of his neck. “I’ll rip your cock off. Got it?” 

He nods his head frantically before rushing out the door. The bar is silent now and you can feel Tommy behind you before he says anything. 

“Jesus, you and Joel are perfect for each other. I reckon he won’t bother ya again now. Hell, I reckon no man is gonna bother ya now.” His hand rests on your shoulder squeezing gently. 

“Good. Cause I’m already takin.” Tommy pats you on the back as he turns back towards the bar. You let out a sigh as you walk out of the bar and make your way home. You know that’s where he’s gone. 

“Hey, something happen with Joel? He stormed up the stairs like a moody teenager.” Ellie asks as you make your way into the kitchen.

“Not really sure but I’m gonna head up and see if he’s ok.” You furrow your brow when Ellie throws her backpack on. “Are you off somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m heading over to Dina’s. I’m staying the night so don’t worry about me.” She gives you a tight hug before heading for the door and leaving. 

You close your eyes and take in a deep breath before ascending the stairs two at a time. Your hand hovers over the door handle of your shared room and you hope that he doesn’t shut you out this time. 

The door creaks as you push it open and you find Joel suiting on the bed facing the window. His shoulders are tense and you decide to crawl across the bed and wrap yourself around him. He tenses more when he feels your arms slip around his back towards his chest. 

“What are ya doin?” His voice is low, and you can feel the rumble of it as your head presses against his back. 

“What’s wrong? You’ve been a little off since I did that patrol on my own a couple of weeks back.” 

He sighs, leaning forward and placing his hands on his face. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong.”

“Ok, yeah, I don’t believe that for a second, baby. You can tell me anything, you know that right?”

“I don’t think this is gonna work out,” he mutters quickly through his hands. Your heart cracks just a little. Where the hell is this coming from?

“Joel,” you whisper as you pull away from his back and move to straddle him. He reluctantly moves his hands away from his face to grip your hips, making sure you don’t fall. 

His gaze settles on the window behind you but you're not having any of it. Reaching out to him, you gently place your hand on his cheek, and he closes his eyes at the feeling of you touching him. 

“Look at me please.” Your voice is soft, and you run your thumb along the stubble of his cheek. He takes a deep breath before slowly opening his eyes and meeting your gaze. 

“What’s going on, Joel? Are you really breaking up with me?” He swallows loudly, his eyes tracing the curve of your face before letting his eyes drift away. 

“No! Look at me and say it. Say you want this to end. That you don’t want me anymore.” It comes out a little harsher than you wanted but you need him to talk to you about what’s running through his head. 

“I ain’t good enough for ya, darlin’.” It’s almost a whisper but you heard him loud and clear. “You could have anyone you wanted. I’m just holdin ya back baby.”

“Now hold on a minute, where are you getting this from. Joel, baby.” You grab his face with both hands and force him to look at you. “You are not holding me back. You make me better, in every way and I couldn’t live without you. So please don’t make me.”

“You should be with someone closer in age. Someone like Dillon.” That’s when it clicks. 

“I don’t want him. I don’t want anyone that isn’t you. Never have, never will. Joel, you're stuck with me. Besides, you ain’t that much older than me, baby. I love you.”

His breath hitches. You love him. His eyes glaze over with unshed tears and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “You-you love me?” 

“Afraid so. You, Joel Miller, are the love of my life. You ain’t too old for me. You may be a little bit grumpy but, you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t.” 

He grabs your ass and pulls you close, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He breathes you in savouring the feel of you in his arms. His heart beats wildly as he utters those words back. 

“I love you too, darlin’.” You run your fingers through his hair, and he hums contentedly. “You are sure I’m what you want?” He asks as he pulls back to look at you. 

“Let me show you how much I want you.” He gulps as you remove your jacket and top, tossing them onto the floor behind you. His eyes widen, transfixed by your form as you make quick work of removing your bra.

You slip off his lap and remove your trousers, taking your underwear off with them. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whisper as his eyes trail the length of your naked body. 

You bend, pulling off his boots and socks before running your hands up along his jean clad thighs. Undoing his belt, you reach for his zipper and he lifts his hips as you pull his jeans off. 

His breathing is ragged as you straddle his waist again, hands running up his chest reverently. His arousal is hard against you and he closes his eyes and groans when you run your slick along it.

With delicate fingers, you slowly undo the buttons of his shirt, rolling it off his shoulders. You giggle at the sight of the grey t-shirt he has underneath. 

“Why do you always have to wear so many layers?” He smiles at you and shrugs his shoulders. “Think it’s cause I’m….”

You place your finger against his lips, “if you say you’re old, i'm gonna slap you baby.” He chuckles, slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. 

“M’okay. I won’t say it so.” His eyes are focused on your lips, and you lean in and capture his in a searing kiss. You swallow the moan he lets out as you slowly grind against him. 

“Wanna take care of you, baby,” you whisper against his lips. He doesn’t answer. He can’t. He’s too damn horny. 

You push at his chest, forcing him onto his back and the way he’s looking up at you sends a shiver down your spine. 

You don’t speak. You don’t want to ruin the moment with words, so you grab his length in your hand and pump him twice before you line him up and sink down on him. He whimpers, his hands gripping your hips tight as he keeps his gaze focused on where he disappears inside you. 

It’s slow, sensual as you roll your hips above him. You’re focused on him, on his pleasure as you try to reassure him with your body that he’s it for you. 

You can feel your pleasure build and as your orgasm washes over you, Joel makes a strangled noise below you. His eyes are wide open, glazed over with lust as he focuses on the way your breasts bounce slightly. He moves his hand from your hip to squeeze your breast, pinching your pebbled nipple between his fingers and you moan softly as you clench around him. 

His breathing becomes more ragged, and you know he’s close. You ride him a little harder and he trembles as he nears his release. He groans out your name as his body jerks, spurting hot ropes of cum inside you. You both pant loudly, his grip on your hips loosening as he pulls you down towards him. He doesn’t pull out, wanting to stay connected to you for a little longer. 

“So, have I convinced you you’re it for me?” You whisper into his chest. Joel smiles, lifting your chin towards him and he connects his lips with yours. “Don’t know darlin’. Might need a little more convincin’.” 

You smack his chest, and he chuckles, pulling you close. “Hey,” he says as he grabs your hand. “Why is your hand bruisin’?” You shrug your shoulders and nuzzle back into his chest. “Let’s just say, you aint gotta worry about Dillon no more.” His eyebrows arch and his chest expands with pride. You really are his lady.

He knows that you love him. That he loves you and that you are all he needs. You and Ellie. His gaze drifts towards his bedside locker where the ring he found a couple of months back lays sitting in a black box. 

A smile plays across his face. He’s gonna have to ask you now. Ask you to be his wife. Maybe then - when you’re wearing his ring on your finger, sharing his name - the men of Jackson will think twice about flirting with what’s his. 

Everything: @maievdenoir @amneris21 @hnt-escape @elegantduckturtle @harriedandharassed @jediknight122 @ayrusss @hayley-the-comet @sherala007 @alexxavicry @scorpio-marionette @donnaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @beskarprincessjenny @littlemisspascal @icanbeyourjedi @thatpinkshirt @maryfanson @sunnshineeexoxo @misspearly1 @misspearlssideblog @athalien @its--fandom--darling @sara-alonso @doommommy @browneyes-issac @trickstersp8 @nembees @kaitieskidmore1 @mswarriorbabe80 @allthe-ships @tintinn16 @hungrhay @rosie-posie08 @manuymesut @all-the-way-down-here @iccedays @tusk89 @graciexmarvel @pedrostories @musings-of-a-rose @untitledarea @your-voice-is-mellifluous @majestyjade @avengersfan25 @angstismydrug @everythingfan @pedrosbum @ryangoslingstanktop

#pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x fem!reader

[danrifics]

you all pestered me for it and here it is. the closeness analysis/ theory.

now if you didn't see I basically had this theory that the closer to BIG and COTY we get in the DAPG timeline the closer dan and phil sit to each other. Dan made a comment about how them playing Heartthrob being like a gay soft launch and that got me thinking of some other ways they could have done it and one of those being the idea that as time goes on you get less and less strict and worrisome about what others think of you and so they end up gravitating closer and closer.

This post will be under a see more cos its probably gonna be long af.

I will be splitting it into stages.

2014 -15

2016 - 17

2018

revival

sorry the screenshots arent clickable to make bigger tumblr only allows for 30 on a post so i had to group them together!

(i will not be covering horror games apart from in the revival stage and i will also not be talking much about gamingmas 2023)

2014 - 15

now when i initially went to collect my evidence, i was suddenly worried maybe i kinda had things wrong because i feel like in Donkey Kong Country (the first dapg video, see screenshot below) they're sat pretty close but honestly when we get to how they sit a lot later on you'll see that this is actually pretty far apart

now here are some screenshots for the inital look at at the end of them we'll talk (this will be the layout for most of this post i think)

now of course this is only a selection of those year's videos if i screenshotted them all i fear this post would never end. now these first 2 years are a good mix of at desk videos on sofa videos. i noticed from some other videos not show here that in sofa videos they rend to sit a lot closer to each other than they do at the desk, this is kinda funny to me cos really they definitely have room for a wider frame on the couch if they wanted to sit like normal people.

2016 - 17

2016 and the start of 2017 feel like a mixed bag of how close together they are but i did notice that the more into 2017 we got the more they seemed to be shoulder to shoulder! these also started to wean out sofa sitting games (not 100% gone yet but almost). now if you're wondering why i've kept this screenshot apart its cos this is the last one in the first london apartment.

and honestly from here on out is where i believe the "soft launching" begins!

so lets finish 2017 and see if im right!

just had to single out this screenshot for a sec:

in case anyone wondered that is the face dan made during dream daddy when phil reads "we were roommates for a while too"

softlaunch?

anyway moving on

watching these videos definitely feels like something changed btw, while they still arent as close as we'll start seeing them sit, i definitely noticed more often they were shoulder to shoulder. but like a new room has definitely changed the vibe a little bit between them, and now we can move on to the next and final year of pre hiatus dapg, where things as you will see immediately start to change.

2018

like i said... immediately we are met with this, i would also like to let everyone know that 2018 is my favourite era of pre hiatus dapg

lets see what the rest of this year will bring

now i'm splitting 2018 up into parts because i need to do a whole talk about the tour situations so for now lets look at the above screenshots, now its very obvious that they are sitting so much closer to each other which i think is really funny considering how big that room is and often in this section of videos there is a lot of room either side of them so they literally do not need to be that close.

now lets talk about the tour bus. this is how close they're sitting

thats for sure a 1 person seat yet they've both forced themselves on even tho the sofa literally behind them would have been perfectly fine to sit on, and they cant give me "this is the only place to set up the camera" babe its really not theres a whole surface behind you.

okay thank you for listening to this, moving on to the final part of 2018!

(the last 2 screenshots are out of order oops)

idk about you but yeah i think they are definetly a lot closer than they were way back in 2014. i really dont have a lot to say other than that, and i have definetly proven my theory so now we've established that lets have a brief look at post hiatus dapg!

Revival

Now this is gonna be really brief its just a summary of where we are post BIG/COTY and post hiatus (things my brain still cant quite believe is real)

now here are the revival moments i wanna give a mention!

firstly sims season ep 3 when dan moves his chair away from phil and their wheels are literally locked together, pushing phil's chair too

heres dan looking into the monitor and then moving closer to phil <3

and finally

hand hold

thanks for reading all this and sorry if it didnt live up to the hype lmao

#dan and phil #dan howell #phil lester #amazingphil #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #phan #dapg #dnpg

[film-bro-hotch]

I Can See You - Hotch x Fem!Reader (one-shot)

I have had the idea for this one-shot ever since this song came out, and I wrote it in the middle of the night in an attempt to stay up and fight jetlag. This is going to be posted quite literally as I am in the airport about to move to a foreign country, so please enjoy.

Summary: You and Hotch start something outside of work that slowly starts to make its way into your on-the-clock time in more risky ways. Based on I Can See You by Taylor Swift.

Warnings: smut 18+, oral (m receiving), semi-public sex, workplace relationships (?) but like in the most disruptive way possible

WC: 2k

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me And I could see you up against the wall with me And what would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you

The past three months had been filled with what everyone assumed to be the mundane, typical occurrences of amicable coworkers. Passing of paper, catching glances of him from across the room during a briefing, occasionally brushing polyester suit jackets against each other in the elevator. They were insignificant. Or at least that is what everyone thought.

It’s what you wanted them to see. And to be completely honest, it’s what you thought at first too. Why would you possibly think your older, recently divorced boss would be interested in you?

Yet here you were on the BAU jet after a case. He was sitting next to you, both working on some paperwork to officially close the case you had just been working on. You couldn't remember a specific detail from the case. 

“Hey, Hotch, how many rounds of ammo did this guy have in his basement again?” “Enough I think he was doomsday prepping. Local PD was still getting an accurate number when we were leaving. I’ll call them when we land.” His tone was nonchalant enough, you really didn’t think much of it. 

An hour later you were at your desk, getting ready to pack up when he came by, close enough that he was brushing your shoulder. He had picked up a pen from your desk and wrote the number down on your documents.

Odd moments like this kept happening. Sometimes he would lean a little closer than usual to show you one of the various drawings Jack made that he had stuck on the fridge. When you asked him for help on some grueling paperwork, your shoulders often touched. You would go to turn in administrative work and instead of putting it in the designated basket on his desk, you handed it directly to him, his fingers brushing yours. If you looked close enough, you could have sworn you saw his ears go a little red.

No one had said anything yet, which filled you partly with relief. Emily and JJ not saying anything was normal. They may be profilers, but they were both pretty good at keeping their noses out of their coworkers’ business. Who wasn’t so good at that was Penelope. If anyone was going to catch on to it, it would be her. And she would say something to you.

The fact that she hadn’t made you feel a little crazy. Were you really just reading too much into things? Were you projecting? 

That was until one day after everyone was gone, he asked you to dinner.

You said yes, of course, though partly in the back of your head you wondered if it was more of a friendly coworker ‘well, we are both off and have nothing else to do’ dinner date than a date date. Any concerns of that were crushed when at the door of your apartment he kissed you. You had imagined his lips a few times already, thin and usually in some kind of disapproving frown. They were soft against yours, and you could feel the gentle scratch of his stubble on your chin. 

When he pulled away, you expected maybe a form of regret, a look that read ‘what have I done?’ Instead, he just looked hungry for more.

“I know I shouldn’t have,” he says.

“But you did.” And so you gave him more. You both tumbled into your apartment. Your hands were in his hair, his hand was grabbing your ass as he continued to kiss you. You remember making it to the bed, and you remember that he spent the night at your place that night.

After that, work with Aaron looked much like it had the past few months. Business as usual with only stolen moments of tenderness, when your hands touched, his calloused fingers brushed yours for just a moment as he handed you a report and asked you to turn it in at 5:00 before you went home. You didn’t let the team catch the way your eyes linger on him for just a moment longer than what was socially appropriate for co-workers, how your gaze went from his eyes to his lips, usually pressed in a thin line. No one saw how in that cramped elevator, the last part of your morning commute, he would sometimes get closer, let one finger from the hand holding his briefcase curl with your pinkie. 

That had been the two of you for the last three months. Professional. You just weren’t sure how much longer you could take professional.

It started out simple enough. You were in his office for a legitimate reason. JJ had been out sick and as the only other person with a communication background, her work fell on you, though you didn’t mind. You were there to hand him a stack of briefings for potential cases, and as he started to flip through them, you casually slipped a hand on top of his thigh, your fingers curling towards his inner thigh, your thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of his pants. You could feel his pulse rise, his sharp intake of breath, see his eyes dart straight toward his door, the blinds that were open. There was a certain thrill in the danger of being caught. “What?” you asked coyly. “Scared of being found out?” “I’m not-it’s not that.” He was flustered. “We are at work. And your hands are cold.”

“Oh, I am very aware,” you said, abruptly pulling your hand from his and standing straight. “JJ should be back tomorrow, but if you have any other questions on these, just let me know,” you said, continuing on like you hadn’t just turned his face red with a touch or given him an awful boner in the middle of work.

Later that week, you had left your desk to give yourself one more cup of coffee considering you knew you would be working later than usual to finish up some details on a file. You usually go down the hall and sneak into another department’s kitchen to use a couple flavoring syrups. Passing a nook, you felt a hand grab you and pull you back, another hand settling on your lower back as Hotch pulled you into a kiss. Your surprised grunt was muffled by his lips, his teeth nearly busting your lips when they crashed into you. 

“What the hell are you doing?” you breathed. “We are at work.”

“This is the only place on this floor besides a janitor's closet that isn’t on camera. And I didn’t exactly think cleaning chemicals gave the most romantic mood.” He said it completely seriously, like he had actually given this thought. 

“Wait, how did you know I was even going to be here?”

“You always get a second cup when you are planning to stay past 5:00. And you never get coffee from the BAU’s kitchen. You go down the hall to data science because they have better variety. I just happened to take a break right before you went for a refill, and I happened to be in the one corner that cameras don’t reach.” His tone was matter-of-fact, like he was reading from a textbook rather than the romantic declaration that he actually paid attention to your habits. 

“It’s really hot when you pay attention, you know,” you said, reaching up for another kiss, but Hotch pulled back. 

“Got to get back to work,” he said, the edge of his lips curled into a know, shit-eating grin. Bastard.

The tipping point came nearly a month later. The two of you had been at this little game ever since, trying to see who could make the other the most flustered, and things were getting progressively more risky. The closest call so far had been when you two thought you were the only ones left for the day, but Morgan had come back to grab his thermos he had left on his desk.

On this day, you were working at your desk when Aaron called you into his office. It wasn’t an occurrence, but something did start to feel off when he asked you to shut the door.

“Lock it for good measure,” he added, moving quite close to you to shut the blinds.

You hardly got his name out of your mouth before he kissed you, nearly banging your body against the door, which clearly would have alerted someone. You found your hand intuitively going around his neck, one cradling his cheek as he kissed you. “What the hell are you doing?” you finally were able to ask between breathless pants.

“You’re driving me crazy.”

“I’ve hardly done anything.”

He pulls away then, pointing towards his desk. “We have five minutes before anyone gets suspicious.” You were already ahead of him, pulling him towards his desk, your hands already reaching for his belt. He was eager to help you, unclasping the buckle in one fell swoop. Even through the lining of his pants you could see his bungle. You wondered how long he had been thinking about doing this all day, thinking of you. 

He slid his pants off part of the way, your fingers going to grip him, only his boxer keeping your flesh from touching. He had to be sensitive. Even just the friction from your hand and the fabric made him hum in approval. “If we are going to do this, you are going to need to keep quiet,” you said. Your hands moved from his crotch to his neck, unlacing his tie with ease. Haphazardly bundling it up, you shoved the mess of fabric into his mouth to shut him up.

“Wait,” you heard him say, having removed the makeshift gag. He shook his arms out of his suit jacket, taking the most surely expensive coast and folding it, placing it on the ground. It took you a moment to realize what he was getting out, but you started to understand when he happily put the gag back in his mouth. Kindly, he had made his jacket into a cushion for your knees so you could be comfortable while sucking him off and making him scream. And you planned to do just that.

Your fingers gripped the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his dick. Spitting in your hand, you began to run your hand along the length of him, slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly. From the corner of your eye, you could see the way he gripped the edge of his desk, practically begging you to go a little faster, use a little more pressure. You kept up the facade for a bit, listening to his near desperate hums before placing your lips on the tip, running your tongue along it and hearing his muffled groan in response. 

You started to move your hand a little faster, your tongue picking up the place along with it. You loved to see the way his knuckles went white, the way he was gripping the desk for dear life. 

“Please,” you heard his muffled whimper.

“I’m sorry, dear, what was that?” you asked from your position below him.

Quickly, he ripped out his gag, one hand still gripping the desk as he said, “For the love of god, please stop tormenting me.”

You were happy to oblige him, beginning to move your hand up and down as well as flicking your tongue along his tip, feeling the muscles in his thigh and his abdomen tense and clench before he finally released. At the last second, he muffled his cry with the tie, nearly sinking back into the desk as you wiped himself from your lips.

Standing and brushing your knees off, you motioned to the door. “Put your pants on so I can get the hell out of here and hope no one noticed.”

He took a moment to compose himself, tucking his shirt back in and trying his best to straighten out his tie. He opened the blinds and unlocked the door, sending you on your way with a simple, “Please make sure those are on my desk before the end of the day.” 

You were certain he was planning on returning the favor.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch #song fic #based on a taylor swift song #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut #hotch x fem!reader smut #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic

[cranberryjuice-posts]

I kissed a girl and liked it

Pairings - teenage Abby anderson X lesbian! Fem! reader

An - abby and reader Are 16/17, this is around a year after Jerry’s death and Owen n abby r still together

Tw - reader smokes, making out, cheating (again don’t cheat on your partners)

Synopsis- Abby is a confused young queer girl who doesn’t know if she likes women or not and you being a good friend help her out

Abby was currently hanging out at owens place. He shared an apartment with a few other rookie soldiers but Abby didn’t mind just as long as she got to hangout with him.

At this point it was 2am and Owen was passed out asleep, Abby however was awake. She just silently walked in circles until she heard a nock at the window.

She moved to the sound and opened it where she found you standing. “Hey hot stuff” You teased which made the blonde blush.

“What are You doing here so late” she chuckled and tucked some hair behind her ear. You hardly saw her with her hair down but when you did you made sure to pay attention.

“What are You doing up so late hm?” You asked Back with a teasing grin. “Well I couldnt Sleep” Abby leaned forward on the window.

“Then I couldnt Sleep either” Abby just rolled her eyes at your response. She then noticed you had your backpack on. “What’s with the bag? Are you going out or something?”

You just shook your head. “Nah I’m going to go smoke”

“Smoke? Y/n isn’t it to early for that” she slightly criticized but you just gave her a sarcastic look. “Really? I’m 16 abs I think infected or a scar will kill me before smoking some weed”

“I meant its 2am”

“Oh..”

There was some awkward silence before you just rolled your eyes. “So are you gonna come with me or not”

Abby shook her head “not unfortunately, owens asleep and I’d feel bad leaving him”

“Fuck Owen dude, come hang out with me it’ll be a hundred times better I swear” you spoke with a clear distaste for Owen, abby could never figure out why you hated him so much.

After a few moments abby looked back at her sleeping boyfriend before nodding. “Allright you win” You jumped excited and helped the blonde out of the window and onto the stair case.

Normally Both of you walked down and into the city bellow, it helped that the rookies homes was stationed in an old apartment complex inside the WLF QZ and super close to the stadium so whenever you felt like skipping out you were able to just explore the abandoned city.

This time however you started to go up the fire escape. “Where are you going” Abby yelled after you while pulling her hair back into a braid.

“You’ll see!” You shouted back and continued to climb, Abby of course had no choice but to follow.

Soon you two were up at the roof. You set your bag down and laid out a few blankets some snacks you stole and two rolled joints as-well as your water canister.

Abby took a seat beside you, enjoying the cold breeze the light from the full moon and just the comfortable silence.. the starts were bright and Abby couldn’t help but stare at them wondering if old world had ever gotten to see the stars like this.

You leaned over and pointed to a constellation. “See that constellation there, that’s Hercules and there riiighhhht above it that’s Lyra” looking over you saw Abby’s smile and you gave a content sigh before moving back.

“So.. how’s that book about greek myths you found going?” She asked as you light the blunt. You nodded excitedly and smiled. “Great actually! I can’t believe people were able to think of stories like these”

The two of you continued to talk and pass the blunt around. Abby loved being around you, she would even think more than she liked being around Owen but she would never admit it. She studied how you looked under the moonlight with your cute pj pants sports bra and jacket, the way your hair complimented your face and skin tone and your lips… she looked away embarrassed but you took note.

You softly stopped laughing and put up a face of concern wondering if you had said something wrong “What’s wrong abs?” her cheeks were a soft red. There was some silence and you grew more worried, leaning forward more towards her. “Hey, you can talk to me” you touched her hand with a certain comfort that Abby couldn’t take it anymore

She breathed out gently and leaned on her arm. “Your like into women right”

Confused and taken back you nodded “uh yeah I’m really only into women men just don’t do it for me” Abby took in the information.

“Right.. well I mean I’m with Owen so I wouldn’t know but what’s it like, being with a girl?” She finally looked over at you. You were still confused but decided to humor Her, you moved your hand away and placed it on your thigh. “Uh it’s nice… I mean there’s this certian understanding between both of you that you could never find with a guy, I mean girls are soft gentle you both just want to be loved unconditionally so it’s easier to show that with them… plus it’s funner to kiss them” You threw in the final joke but Abby just nodded.

“Ok..” was all she spoke, Abby looked back to the scenery down bellow.. you gave her a suspicious look before chuckling.

“Abby do you want to kiss a girl?” You teased but Abby shook her head a little to quickly. You laughed and moved to face her better. “It’s ok, your pretty cute so if you really really wanted to someone would”

She just rolled her eyes but eventually made eye contact with you. There was silence.. neither of you made a move but it was clear both wanted to. After a moment both reached forward and kissed each other.

You stood in your knees with your hands in Abby hair. Inhaling she took in your subtle perfume and the cherry chapstick you always wore. Abby grabbed your waist and pulled you into her as you both kissed.

It was different from when she kissed Owen, you followed Abby’s lead and worked with her to make the entire kiss enjoyable. The way your hands ran through her braided hair and caressed her cheek. Abby ran her hands up and down your back with subtle shy touches to your butt which made you laugh in the kiss.

She hated how wrong it was but shit did it feel right. Your soft lips on hers, the way you started to kiss down her jaw and eventually landing on her neck.

Abby gasped once you started to lightly suck on her neck, your new position was laying in-between Abby’s legs with your hands tracing her body. She gently tucked some hair behind your ear while you kissed her and leaned back to give you more room.

——

You two laid on your backs, your head was laying on Abby’s chest and her arm was around you. Neither daring to speak of what you two had just done. Would owen be mad if he found out you two made out yes, yes he would but if he didn’t know then there’s no way he would mind right.. right.

You felt Abby pull you closer and you just chuckled.. sitting up you kissed her cheek before her lips softly. “Common, let’s get you back before your sucky boyfriend wakes up” you joked and started to pack up, mainly you wanted to leave because you knew you loved Abby but there was no way she would love you back.

You dropped Abby back off and helped her into the window.. silently looking at each-other you finally turned and left to go back to your place, Abby gripped the window seal and watched as you walked away, she wished she could regret what you two had done but deep down she knew that was the best kiss she ever had..

The following day at training you avoided Abby not wanting to make things awkward even though you knew that was the last thing to do to not make shit awakard.

Abby sat down exhausted and Owen followed. He tried to lean over and kiss her but she just pulled back putting a hand on his chest and giving a small smile. Owen rolled his eyes playfully and looked down confused.

“Where’d you get that” he touched her neck gently rubbing the hickey you accidently left.. Abby paniced and cleared her throat.

“Oh uh it’s just a bruise, some kid was throwing rocks and it hit me in the throat” Abby lied, Owen however put on a more serious look. “Damn.. just be more careful ok”

“Yeah ok” Abby reassured him. He kissed her cheek but little did he know she was looking behind him and at you.

——

A week later Abby broke up with Owen.

Abby - *kisses y/n*

Abby -I’m a homosexual.. IM A HOMOSEXUAL😢

—

#Spotify #lesbian #wlw #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou

[creative-crybaby]

Fly on the Wall

PAIRING: yan!timeskip!Sakusa Kiyoomi x fem!reader

GENRE: smut | dark content (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: yandere themes, noncon, stalking, somnophilia, semi-public masturbation (m), nipple play, fingering (with leather gloves), dacryphilia, cum eating, creampie, size kink, breaking and entering, panty stealing, basically Sakusa is a perv

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 8.7k

SUMMARY: The new Black Jackal’s manager catches Sakusa’s eye. Unfortunately, whatever distance, physical or otherwise, is between you two, is too far for his liking. All characters are 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Not meant to be a Christmas gift, but my timing does wonders, I guess :/

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

The Black Jackals getting a manager didn’t excite him the way it did his teammates. The idea itself didn’t bring him dread, of course, but the knowledge that certain players may get distracted–or worse: rowdier–brought more stress to him than he’d appreciate. 

Bokuto and Hinata were already babbling on to each other about what you might be like, reminiscing their high school days when they both had two managers on their respective teams. Atsumu joined in, whining that Inarizaki wasn’t as lucky to have a girl manager, let alone two attractive ones. He also bet that you’d be cute—Sakusa could only roll his eyes at the exchange.

You carried yourself with a grace often unfound in volleyball when meeting the team, offering a polite smile as you introduced yourself. Even when bombarded with questions from the boisterous ones (you know the ones), you didn’t falter, even assuring Meian that you didn’t mind the energy: “It’s nice to know I’ll be supporting a passionate team.”

Pretty, Sakusa thinks. You didn’t blow him away, but it was enough for him to acknowledge upon first laying eyes on you. Even he found himself momentarily frozen when you two made brief eye contact. 

Regardless, you’re not here for a modelling contract; you’re here to help the team grow to its full potential. The wing spiker may not be praying for your downfall, but he certainly isn’t going to celebrate your arrival too soon, either. 

Anyone can refill water bottles and hand out clean towels to sweaty giants. The same goes for taking notes on their progress, especially since you should know how volleyball works. From what Sakusa has observed, you do more than well in that department, too, always ready to correct someone’s form or have a report prepared for Meian in no time. You’re organized, punctual; it helps that you also sprinkle in some encouraging words when necessary. (Certain members are more than happy to gain that praise, which means more headaches on the ravenette’s end.)

It doesn’t take long for you to get him to accept you into the team—in his own way. He doesn’t avoid you like the plague, per se; he merely never saw any reason to put in as much effort to get to know you the way someone like Bokuto or Atsumu would. He was just glad to have one more person to give him some proper feedback. 

That distance Sakusa created is seemingly one-sided. There’s no special occasion, either: it was after a practice that partook a few days after a game against the Tachibana Red Falcons. A close match where the Black Jackals managed to pull through, though that wasn’t precisely what consumed the wing spiker’s thoughts at the time. You handed him a neatly folded towel during the athletes’ break, and he nods his thanks. You stay before him, and he peers up at you curiously after wiping his face. Stretching your hand to him, you carry a mini hand sanitizer pack. Nothing special: it’s a standard bottle in a dark red and attachable case. 

“Noticed you weren’t a fan of the gifts from some of your fans and would look grossed out when a kid would touch you,” you explain, offering a small smile. “Hope you don’t already have one of these. This was the only normal-looking one I could find. Wasn’t sure how you’d feel about having a giraffe case dangling from your bag.”

You offer a sheepish laugh that Sakusa would refuse to admit is something he’d want to hear again. Not wanting to leave you hanging any longer than he already has, he takes your gift, eventually muttering his thanks. 

It’s like a boy clinging onto that one compliment he got a few years back because it’s all he received. A rational voice in his head dismisses your observation as something someone on the team probably mentioned to you—maybe Atsumu made a joke about him being a germaphobe, and you took it seriously. 

Still, that’s not a possibility the wing spiker wants to entertain. Not as he goes on with the rest of practice, not when he’s in the changeroom, not when he’s attaching that case to his gym bag, not when he gets home, and certainly not when he goes to bed that night. A small gesture, one probably wouldn’t overthink, lingers in his thoughts until Occasion #2 appears. 

Coming back from an away game is one of the few opportunities the volleyball players get to recharge. After packing everything into the bus, each member sits in their unassigned-assigned seat. Or, at least, most of them would. Some chose to sit wherever it was convenient for them: they wanted to carry on their conversation with one of their teammates or maybe get some shut-eye. Sakusa was the latter, opting for a window seat far away from his boisterous colleagues as possible. Ready to close his eyes, he only got a few seconds of relaxation before he sensed some shifting next to him. With furrowed brows, he opens his eyes, ready to tell Atsumu off (let’s be honest, it’s always Atsumu), only to find you making yourself comfortable in the spot next to his instead. 

You turn to him somewhat sheepishly. “Hope you don’t mind. I wanted to get some rest, and you’re pretty quiet, so I figured having you as my seating buddy was my best shot.”

You don’t say anything afterwards, waiting for him to tell you to leave him alone. To his surprise (and yours, he’s sure), the wing spiker mumbles a stoic “Go ahead,” his eyes trailing towards the window as he readjusts his mask. Even with his gaze no longer on you, he could hear the smile in your voice as you thank him. 

For the next several hours, Sakusa remained awake, thinking about everything and nothing all at once as he’d glance over to your sleeping form every few minutes. Even people like Bokuto and Hinata lost enough energy to fall asleep, but the ravenette didn’t notice. If anything, his entire world dissolved into nothingness as soon as your frame unconsciously leaned on his shoulder. His whole body froze, but surprisingly, not out of disgust. Awkward, perhaps, but he didn’t feel the need to wake you up, let alone push you away. 

His senses heightened. With you so much closer, his eyes scanned every detail your face had to offer, every reaction you had in your sleep, from stirring after hitting a speedbump to sighing whenever Saksua dared to take a breath too deep. Speaking of breathing, even with yours being so shallow, he can hear the steady rhythm loud and clear, despite Bokuto’s snoring somewhere in the distance. Your scent attacked his nose, even with the mask shielding most of his face, and he can at least admit to himself that it was refreshing to smell something that wasn’t a bunch of sweaty athletes. It’s just your head on his shoulder, but the ravenette felt you burning your mark into his skin, one he didn’t ever want to wash off. Every sense except for taste—

A speed bump. The last thought retreated as fast as it invaded. The remaining hour and a half to return home flew by with his guilt as a distraction. Even when Atsumu woke up and teased the wing spiker for trying to get close to you, Sakusa didn’t feel the need to reply. He merely looked down at your still-sleeping form for several seconds more before eventually trying to wake you up. He’d rather he didn’t, but something about others seeing you in such a vulnerable state irked him in a way he can only describe as filthy. No amount of water and hand soap can scrub away that dirt, but as soon as your eyes opened and met his before anyone else’s, that itch got scratched. He didn’t register your profuse apologies until a couple of other teammates decided to join in on the teasing, and suddenly Sakusa found his voice. 

“It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. And it still isn’t. Maybe you forgot about it or saw that moment as a funny story to share over drinks with friends, but it’s different for the wing spiker. He knows it shouldn’t be, yet here he is, replaying every minor interaction between the two of you. There was a reason for him keeping his distance from you when you first started: you both stick to your tasks during practice and games, only interacting when progress and strategy are the focus. Otherwise, the athlete is back in whatever vacant corner he can find, shrinking his almost 6’’4 frame as much as he can in hopes that he can avoid possible interactions. (And if that means he gets to watch you laugh at something Atsumu said or go over strategy with Meian, then those times in his hiding spot have come with new benefits.)

But he’s not in a corner right now: he’s at Onigiri Miya with his team and EJP Raijin, eyes boring into your frame as his cousin says something he doesn’t quite catch. 

The ravenette hums. “What was that?”

“Your new manager’s pretty cute and all,” Komori starts, not too loudly for others to hear, “but if you keep staring at her, you’re going to look like some creep.” Sakusa’s head snaps to the libero, who sheepishly smiles as he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, I get that you were never all that good with girls, but even you should know this stuff by now.”

The wing spiker scoffs at his cousin’s joke, opting to take a bite out of his onigiri instead of replying. You’re listening to whatever story the blonde Miya twin has to share, laughing whenever the younger one butts in with commentary to embarrass the former. Now you watch in amusement as the two lookalikes bicker, and it makes Sakusa realize something: besides the few moments he recalls oh-so fondly, you don’t interact with each other much outside of volleyball. 

He glides his thumb across the nori on his food in irritation. The moments shared between you rarely involve anything outside of the sport. For someone as observant as him, the ravenette is almost ashamed he let his very few one-on-one memories of you two distract him from such an obvious (and somewhat embarrassing) fact. 

You’ve probably spent more time with a handful of his other teammates. Sakusa recalls Bokuto and Hinata inviting you to a movie marathon at the latter’s place on your day off, though through all that excitement exchanged between them, all he could do was mutter under his breath about them wasting your time. It probably doesn’t matter whether or not you accepted their offer; they still approached you. 

The same goes for whatever Atsumu says to you that makes you two snicker under your breaths. Inside jokes, Sakusa is sure of it, though it doesn’t make him scoff any less. If anything, his mood grew sour with every interaction you had that wasn’t with him. Another fact he wasn’t aware of until the blonde setter asked him if the stick up his ass was bigger than it used to be. (The wing spiker’s response to the harmless joke needn’t be shared.)

“Just talk to her.” Komori’s voice brings Sakusa back to Onigiri Miya. Staring; again. Lovely. The ravenette faces his cheerful cousin once more, who offers a chuckle. “I’ll even play wingman if you want.”

The quieter of the two finishes his onigiri before getting up from his seat. The libero watches as his relative puts his MSBY jersey on before heading for the exit. “I’m good, thank you.”

The ravenette risks a glance your way once he makes it to the door. You don’t meet his gaze, still occupied with the twins. No surprise there, but that doesn’t stop the disappointment plunging into his chest as he exits the shop.

That one-sided has seemingly returned since then, though the roles are reversed. Even with the few moments exchanged between you two, Sakusa struggles to pinpoint when he started to care for your attention in the several months you’ve been part of the team. The days when he felt indifferent involved less overthinking and even lesser restless nights; now, he can’t stop nitpicking at whatever detail catches his eye. You styled your hair differently one day; you’re snacking on cheesecake-flavoured Kitkat because it’s your new favourite snack. These notes follow up with nothing on his end except an extra bullet point in his brain’s buzzing list. 

It’s a winter evening when he adds his first crucial fact: your home address. An abyss swallows the sky at what seems to be only half past five. Not a usual time for practice, though nothing that disrupted Sakusa’s schedule. He’s making his way to his car when he sees you standing aside, eyes glued to your phone. A rare sight, though not an unwelcomed one. 

You’re frowning, the wing spiker notices. He’s approaching you, he notices too little too late. You notice him. 

“Oh, Sakusa!” you smile, pocketing your device. “Good work today.” The ravenette doesn’t need his mask to hide his contentment at your praise, though the pride that swells inside him grows challenging to swallow. “Off home to relax?”

His tongue rests between his teeth as he nods, and you hug your coat tighter to your body. His brain screams to carry on a conversation, no matter how small or meaningless, but his eyes seem to do enough as they rake through the parking lot. He’s looking for your car, he realizes, but has no clue as to what it looks like. 

“Had to bus here,” you explain sheepishly. Sakusa watches you from the corner of his eye, internally sighing in relief at your (alleged) mind-reading powers. “My car needs fixing, and with practice taking place later on in the day, finding a bus worked better.” Your gaze trails to the streets only a few meters away, exhaustion making them droop. “Guess my supposed ride is being held back, huh?”

“Let me take you home.” 

Your head snaps in the wing spiker’s direction, whose eyes slightly widen in shock at his proposition. Now he decides to talk. He digs his nails into the strap of his gym bag, jaw clenching as he tries to appear calm as he awaits your response.

Your brows crease ever so slightly. “I wouldn’t want to cause you any trouble.”

Your voice shrinks at your concern. Sakusa imagines you shrinking under his gaze as well. “You never cause me any trouble.”

Not how he would’ve liked to word it, but it’s too late to take it back. You beam at him, offering your thanks and letting him know you owe him as you step closer to his tall frame. He doesn’t flinch away, instead facing the parking lot once more as he chews on his bottom lip under his mask.

The car ride holds silence throughout the fifteen-to-twenty minutes on his end, with you giving the ravenette directions and discussing the team’s progress. He only offers curt nods and soft hums, not that he minds this time; your sunny tone and presence in such a closed space were more than enough for him. Besides, his brain is occupied with carrying your guidance as you get closer to your destination. Because he’s the driver, and you ought to return home safely. It’s been a long day for both of you: you’re exhausted, and you don’t hide this fact as you slump in the passenger seat and sometimes yawn. 

And when you finally tell Sakusa to pull up into your driveway, he can’t help but scan your home with his eyes, wondering which windows expose which room. He sees one with lavender curtains from the interior, and he’s willing to bet that’s your bedroom. 

You thank him, and the thought evaporates. He’s tongue-tied once more; he nods, unlocking the passenger door. Offering one more smile, you exit the car, and the wing spiker’s eyes bore into your frame as you walk up your porch and enter your home. 

He’s backing out of the driveway when he begins to wonder if there is something different he could have done. The small talk was calming, but he found that he wanted more. 

The drive back consists of Sakusa glancing over at where you sat every chance he got. He swallows harshly, fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel at a red light. Even with practice done a while ago, he feels hot. His clothes hug him uncomfortably, and it isn’t until his brain entertains the idea of peering down does he understand why. 

He recognizes this street. The ravenette pulls over to a secluded area, quick to unbuckle his seatbelt before throwing his mask off. His chest heaves as he slowly looks down once more as if the first time was just a trick of the lights. 

He’s hard. Being alone with you for less than half an hour is enough to make him fucking hard.

He’s also alone. For a second, he recalls keeping a pack of tissues in the glove compartment. 

He’s also in his car. His home is not too far from yours, he noticed as you gave him directions. 

You were also in his car. The passenger seat pulls Sakusa’s gaze towards it. He’s leaning into where you sat not long ago, and if he focuses hard enough, he can catch a whiff of your perfume.

His cock stirs in his slacks, and the ravenette climbs over the gear shift before his brain can reason with his body. 

The passenger’s seat is still a bit warm, he notices upon making himself comfortable in his new spot. The wing spiker shakily exhales as he unzips his pants with great haste, shimmying them down to his thighs. His pace doesn’t slow down when he gets to his briefs, either, opting to tuck the waistband between his balls and dick’s base to free his shaft of its confinements. Only then does he pause, breathing still trembling as he tries to calm himself. 

There’s not much time. An empty parking lot when he got there, but it won’t stay that way forever. Sakusa spits into his palm, needing some makeshift lube to start slowly stroking himself. The relief has his eyes fluttering closed and lips parting with a sigh. It isn’t long until he feels some precum sliding down from his slit, and he spreads the stickiness to help with his movements. He takes a deep breath through his nose and again catches your scent. 

What if it was your hand pumping his cock instead? It should be. You’d be smiling as you do so, peering up at the wing spiker through your lashes as you ask him how he likes it. Always there to help during practice; how is this any different? You want what’s best for the team, for him. Anything for him—

Sakusa’s choking on a groan as he paints his hand and the glove compartment a creamy white. He doesn’t open his eyes until his high finally descends him back to earth, where he realizes what he’s done. 

He groans, in both exhaustion and disgust from the mess in his car and thoughts. He was a teenager when he lasted this long, though the quantity of his release takes him by surprise. Has he truly been pent up for too long? Did you do this?

Sakusa’s quick to take out that tissue pack. 

You thank him for the ride home once more the next time you see each other at practice. Other than that, the wing spiker continues to keep his distance. Mainly due to the shame that follows remembering what he’s done after dropping you off, but the one time you two shared eye contact for more than a few seconds when you handed him a towel during a break brought another feeling into the mix: excitement. What for, Sakusa has yet to find out. Or maybe he’s trying to avoid that explanation. Like any minute, you’ll tell him, you know, eyelids heavy as the emphasis tells him more than enough of what you’re talking about. The thought makes his lower stomach churn in an agonizing blender. Then, you’ll pull him into the storage closet, where you’ll—

Say his name. Well, no. Not you. Someone else is saying it. Again and again. 

The ravenette blinks back into the real world, masking his fantasy with a blank slate for a face as he turns to look at whoever could need something from him.

“Oh, so yer awake?” Atsumu. Of course. “Still got some energy in me, and I need t’kill a bit of time. Wanna set fer ya fer a bit.”

The grin the faux blonde offers isn’t reciprocated as Sakusa notices front the corner of his eye some of his teammates entering the changeroom. A part of him wants nothing more than to follow them, the clothes clinging to his body from all the sweat making him internally recoil as he wishes for a shower. He also knows this is an opportunity to improve without you there: as much as he enjoys your presence, you become a distraction as a drawback. 

The wing spiker sighs. “Only for a little bit.”

Atsumu beams at his teammate’s (albeit reluctant) acceptance, already jogging to fetch a ball to begin.

Sakusa finds his focus coming back with every spike he lands on the other side of the court, slowly but surely returning to normal. Another way to release some steam; he tries not to cringe at the memory of the other tactic from the night before. 

The attempt fails as soon as you enter the gym with Meian by your side. The two of you are speaking to each other—about what, the ravenette isn’t sure. He doesn’t get a chance to listen in, anyway.

“Nice kill!” Atsumu chirps, gaining the attention of not just his teammate, but his captain and manager as well. With a final nod, you and Meian go your separate ways; him towards the changeroom and you, the other two athletes. 

“Don’t push yourselves too much, guys,” you chuckle. “You already worked hard during practice. Take the time to relax as well.”

Sakusa can barely give you a nod while the setter grins at you. 

“I’m gonna get cleaned up before we head out, ‘kay?” The wing spiker’s head snaps towards his teammate with a raised brow. Neither you nor the faux-blonde acknowledge his confusion. 

You smile. “Take your time. I’ll just put the net and volleyballs away while you’re at it.”

Atsumu nods before slapping Sakusa’s back and jogging to the changeroom. The ravenette can only look down at a stray ball and pick it up. He remembers enjoying the silence between him and whoever he was with. 

“I’ll help,” he mutters, walking away before he can witness your reaction. It’s ridiculous, like some middle school crush: wanting nothing more than to be close to you, but freezing up as soon as it happens. And he can’t avoid you forever–he doesn’t want to–because you eventually meet him at the ball cart, dropping the armful of volleyballs into it. “What was that with Miya earlier?”

His voice finds itself whenever he’d rather it didn’t. He’s curious, sure, but he didn’t need his tone to give away his distaste. He can only hope you dismiss it as Sakusa being Sakusa and nothing more. 

With the small smile you give him, the ravenette is certain he’s safe. “Oh, ‘Tsumu invited me to check out this restaurant that recently opened with him after practice. Heard they made some of my favourites there, and I wanted to try them ASAP.”

Sakusa pretends that you being on a first-name basis with the setter doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t respond to your explanation and remains silent as he brings the net down with your help. The next time he acknowledges you is before he rushes to the changeroom to shower, ignoring Atsumu as they cross paths.

He’s at the wrong house. 

You’d think one knew the directions to the place they called home, yes? At the very least, have an idea of the area. Yet, it’s only until your driveway makes it to his peripheral vision does the ravenette realize his mistake. And he’s just in time to watch you walk up your porch. 

After another restless night, the wing spiker needed to clear his head. His home brought him no distractions, already too tidy to clean, and his mind continuously drifted away when watching recordings of volleyball matches. With a day to himself, he might as well go around town—there’s a mall not too far from his place, he recalls. It was a better attempt at keeping him occupied, though he couldn’t help it when he passed a perfume shop and wondered what scent was your favourite. Or the neighbouring lingerie store, putting whatever scandalous pieces of lace out on display, giving the athlete’s spiralling mind suggestions on what you would look best in. (White, he concluded before processing.) 

He didn’t want much, nor did he need much. More or less satisfied with his purchases (and dissatisfied with failing distractions), he’s in his car, ready to head back home. 

But he’s not home. Or rather, his house. The latter is a mere building; the former, a sense of comfort. And while there’s guilt bubbling in his chest, witnessing you carry on with your everyday life has him relaxing in his seat.

You were on an errand run, Sakusa observes. Groceries, from what he sees. What would you be making for dinner tonight? He’s too far away to catch what exactly is in your bags. The weather’s fallen to a frigid slumber—stew, perhaps? Or maybe you’ll make some umeboshi—those appeared to be your favourite whenever the team stopped by at Onigiri Miya. He and his teammates have had the opportunity to try some of your cooking firsthand; the ravenette is positive whatever you make will be just as delicious.

Then he remembers yesterday’s interaction, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. Where did you two go? And when did Atsumu get so comfortable with you to take you out? You seemed content and—

And getting angry during this opportunity won’t do him any good. Surprised, Sakusa manages to calm down a little, opting to distract himself with other scenarios.

What could you two eat together? What would you serve him? He lets his thoughts waltz. The two of you share a meal after a long practice, or maybe you cook together on your day off. He’s seen a few romance movies in his life; he can imagine hugging you from behind as you prepared the food, him nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as you both talked about whatever was on your mind. The conversation would continue as the two of you ate at the dinner table, his hand itching to find yours across from him. 

And for dessert, he’d have you sitting on the kitchen counter with your legs wide open as he ravaged what’s in between them, your hands clawing at his dark curls as his greed controls his tongue. Or, maybe you’re feeling extra generous and decide to help him relax after a tiring practice, lowering to your knees to take every inch of his—

You’re struggling to open your front door. Too many bags in your hands—the wing spiker has half a mind to get out of the car and help you. As crazy as you drive him, he still has some sense to remind him that whatever excuse he has to be in your neighbourhood won’t be convincing, even from him. And with the evergrowing tightness in his pants, he has another problem he can’t hide. Worse, he doesn’t feel as bad as he used to anymore.

You finally manage to get inside, and the athlete starts the engine to find a secluded area once again.

Sakusa has to refrain from spiking the ball at the faux-blonde’s face in the following practice. A match among teammates, and noticing the setter’s little pep in his step upon entering the gym that morning had the ravenette glaring hard. A part of him was relieved being on Atsumu’s opposing team, doubting he could work alongside him for the day. 

For now, the wing spiker aims his spikes at the older Miya twin. Anyone could view the action as part of his strategy; aiming for the setter to prevent them from setting is an old trick in the book, but still in the book. 

“Damn it, Omi!” Atsumu exclaims in frustration after not properly receiving Sakusa’s spike. “Quit pickin’ on me! Ma arms are gonna fall off!”

A twinge of satisfaction plucks at the ravenette’s chest from the outcry, though he masks it with a huff before walking back to his position. His eyes automatically make their way to your form on a bench, keeping track of the points while scribbling some notes whenever possible. You don’t catch his gaze, seemingly occupied with whatever’s on your clipboard. The lack of attention makes Sakusa frown, as he had hoped you’d see him on his little winning streak. 

It doesn’t stop him. If anything, it adds fuel to the fire, the flicker of pride from before blooming into something dangerous. 

His plan doesn’t change: Atsumu will remain his target until he decides otherwise. The next time he’s given a chance to spike, his eyes make the mistake of gluing themselves to his victim. Barnes quickly steps in front of the faux-blonde’s spot, flinching from the impact but still blocking the ball perfectly. 

It’s just one point, one that he can easily take back. Still, Sakusa can’t help but aim his glare at the setter on the other side of the net, something that doesn’t go unnoticed. A hand lands on the wing spiker’s shoulder, snapping him out of his spiralling daze. 

“Take a seat, Sakusa.” Meian’s expression appears relaxed, though there’s a rough edge to his tone telling him it’s not a suggestion.

The bench you’re sitting on is opposite his team’s side of the court. Had that not been the case, the ravenette would try to take the opportunity to sit with you, even if words wouldn’t be exchanged. Instead, he settles onto a bench too far from you for his liking. Even if he were to try and take a peek at you, players from the other team block you from his vision, what with their constant moving. 

He’s observing their movements; anyone can assume that. Sakusa can no longer remember the time he’d do something like that unless he was watching videos of matches at home. If he’s not keeping the ball in the air on his side of the court, then he’s scavenging for a chance to even be reminded of your existence: you handing the athletes water and towels, the captain calling your name to gain your attention. Anything will do. So no matter the frustration that comes with the package, he’ll find a way to catch you. 

It isn’t until he watches you rise from the bench does Sakusa realize that practice is done for the day. He didn’t notice his teammates walking away from the court and giving him a clearer view of your frame; he was glad he could see you at all. His posture straightens as he watches you approach Atsumu, and his hands ball into fists when you rest your hand on the faux-blonde’s arm. Whatever you two may be discussing, the ravenette can only assume it has to do with his teammate being on the receiving end of his pent-up aggression. 

Your conversation ends short and sweet, with you walking towards the storage closet. Sakusa’s only half-listening to his captain when he asks if everything is okay with him. Meian is offered an unenthusiastic response of “Everything is fine” before the younger athlete stalks away.

You’re struggling to roll out the ball cart from its spot when the wing spiker enters the storage closet. He doesn’t hesitate to approach you from behind and grip the handle about an inch away from your hold. You gasp, jolting back slightly before turning your head to face the brooding ravenette. 

“You startled me, Sakusa,” you sigh, clutching your chest. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Always so eager to please, aren’t you? The wing spiker has to refrain from smirking at the thought. 

Still, he ignores your question. “The wheels on this cart have been acting up lately.” With newfound confidence, he places his free hand on your shoulder to gently pull you out of the way for him to yank the cart. It jerks out of its place with a loud screech, and you wince. “You just need to give it a tug. Until it’s fixed, anyway.”

Sakusa looks down at the cart upon realizing this is probably the most words he’s spoken to you without having you carry the conversation. 

You grip the handle after a few seconds of silence. Your voice, suddenly meek, shakes as you thank him. He’s blocking your way; nothing you need to point out to him, but your silence says plenty. His feet stay planted on the ground, and your loss of confidence makes his cock stir in his pants. 

“You were pretty tough out there earlier,” you point out. The wing spiker knows you purposefully left out who he was giving a hard time. He also knows, based on your concerned tone, that you’re asking him for an explanation. 

You aren’t offered a response. Sakusa only takes his time turning his head to peer at you, the darkness of the storage closet and the way his black curls frame his stoic face giving him an intimidating aura. But what has you subconsciously shrinking into your corner are the onyx caskets for irises boring into your frame, beckoning you to crawl into the empty pools of demise. 

“I have to be if I want to win,” is his response before finally leaving you be, exiting the changeroom with the same intensity you witnessed mere seconds ago.

He’s back: closer. 

Parking his car nearby doesn’t cut it for him anymore. Sakusa doesn’t think it ever did. With the amount of patience lost for every practice with his team, the initial distance was just a formality. 

Now, his car hides nearby as he approaches your home, giving a quick yet thorough peek over his shoulder to make sure he’s in the clear.

It took him the third visit to learn where you hid your spare key, having seen you take it out from under the cushion of a little bench on your porch. And luckily for him, it hasn’t left its spot. 

Even with his morals flying out the window, the wing spiker neatly places his coat, scarf and boots aside after removing them, then ponders over his leather gloves until ultimately deciding to keep them on. He eyes the spare slippers by the entrance before concluding they won’t be necessary (for this visit, anyway).

Based on the house’s layout, it shouldn’t take long for Sakusa to find your bedroom. But it’s not going anywhere, and neither are you. Why not get to know you via your home?

It’s a small house: one story and cozy. The ravenette wonders how you afforded it, even with your salary. With how minimal the style appears, he can only assume most of your income went into the building itself. Would it be too much for him to buy you things for the interior? As a gift, perhaps when the occasion calls for it. 

Then again, is he really in any position to ask himself about doing too much? He almost chuckles at the thought. 

A quick yet thorough tour of your home gives him a more detailed layout, though he’d love to stay longer had he had the time. Or better yet, your company. As satisfied as he was to find your living room and kitchen tidy–and by his standards no less–he’s not done getting to know you. 

People don’t really need an exploration of the bathroom. It’s as clean as any other room, though it’s a cast-aside note when his eyes land on your laundry basket. Half full, too. Squatting closer to the dirty pile, a subtle yet musky scent hits his nose. Sakusa almost groans, cock stirring in his slacks; for such a clean freak, he’s never been more excited.

His eyes scan the basket’s contents, eventually landing on flimsy lace. Part of him wishes he wasn’t sporting gloves for the occasion, but he doesn’t let that stop him as he picks up the article of clothing. Underwear, of course it is, and a flattering magenta nonetheless. You wear this to practice? Or are there other times you put it on? Do you have a matching bra? The wing spiker can’t find anything in the basket, though he’s sure–no, he knows–you’d wear it like it was made for you. 

Are you wearing something similar right now?

The ravenette stands from his position, pocketing the lacy undergarment before exiting the bathroom. Consider it a welcoming gift. 

Again, it doesn’t take long for him to find your room. Being in such an intimate location is a different experience compared to looking in as an outsider. Everything is you: the way you organized your shelves and vanity, the colour palette—your scent is more prominent here. Sakusa doesn’t catch his eyes fluttering shut until he distinctly hears shifting. 

To his right, you lay on your mattress, your sheets messily hanging off parts of your body. You’re barely a silhouette in his eyes; the moonlight stalking past the crack between your curtains is the only thing helping the ravenette navigate your room. Parts of the glow highlight a bit of your face, though a shimmer from the light’s reflection teases his peripheral vision. 

You have a bookcase headboard, and on it lays a necklace in its case. Nothing fancy; a golden heart hanging off a thin chain. It’s more the note next to its box that catches the ravenette’s eye:

Thought this would look good on you ;) Hope you like it!

— Tsumu (your favourite setter <3)

If it weren’t for the fact that you’d notice, Sakusa would crumble that note and follow up with the faux-blonde’s neck. When did you get this? He surely would’ve noticed if you received it during practice. 

There’s a good chance the setter gave it to you before or afterwards. The wing spiker’s aware that the two of you spent time together outside of training, though for it to happen enough times that Atsumu found it appropriate to give you a gift as intimate as a heart-shaped necklace has the ravenette glaring at the piece of jewellery. (As open as his teammate may be, Sakusa doubts he’d buy something like that for someone after a single meet-up.)

He hears a sigh: yours. Your body shifts in its spot again, opting to lay on your back. The wing spiker freezes for the slowest seconds his alarmed brain can count, only to relax once you stay in your new spot.

They say an average of eight spiders crawl into your mouth yearly while you sleep. A myth, of course, but maybe that’s what we tell ourselves to ease the paranoia. Maybe, that’s what he is, Sakusa thinks; a spider. Soundless, observant—he’s certainly made himself at home. 

Maybe not, he reconsiders. Most people would carefully trap the eight-legged creature before bringing it outside. Or kill it; no mercy necessary. You have yet to do either. 

Then again, you aren’t like most people. Not in his eyes, anyway. No, his eyes entertain themselves with your every move, and no matter how deep those holes in the side of your head are, you don’t catch his stare. Whatever he may be, he’s always the perfect distance to observe you.

Sakusa’s brain buzzes mindlessly as his hands draw closer to your form, long fingers pinching the hem of your pyjama shirt before lifting the material. No bra: not a surprising observation, what with your nipples poking at the fabric from the cold. Even with how dark it is, the ravenette salivates from the sight, his cock stirring in his pants. He’s grateful for the lack of witnesses, though it’s still embarrassing to be as affected as he is. You’re not even fully nude. Yet.

He waits for a reaction. Other than you moving in your sleep, the wing spiker receives nothing. He exhales through his nose, never thinking that gaining the knowledge about you being a heavy sleeper early on would be an advantage for him. His fingers twitch before slowly landing on your stomach. Again, no reaction; he then lays his palms to join the digits. With a deep and shaky breath, the ravenette glides his hands up your torso until they reach your breasts. 

They feel perfect in his grasp, even with the thick layer of the leather gloves creating that barrier. Your face scrunches when he gives your mounds a light squeeze, though you remain asleep. As deep of a sleeper as you may be, one wrong move could ruin everything. Sakusa gulps, dragging his middle finger to flick at your nipple. A shaky breath from you is enough for him to shift into a more comfortable position on your bed before he continues his ministrations more confidently. 

He’s careful, he assures; eyes flickering from your chest to your face, reading your expressions to discover what you like and making sure you don’t wake up. All the while, the athlete tries to ignore the tightness of his pants, although watching you squirm beneath him because of his touch makes that a challenge. 

“Hnngh….”

It was barely audible, but enough to make the athlete stop everything. You’re still asleep, of course—he’s almost impressed, a bit jealous, even. Countless nights of insomnia on his side because of his fantasies playing on a loop, but yours give you a good night’s rest.

Regardless, the wing spiker gears to earn another reaction like that. Dipping his toes further into the water, he gets a little rougher, tweaking the sensitive buds between his covered fingers. Your back arches in his hold; more than enough confirmation for him. 

Shifting his position once more, Sakusa wraps his lips around one of your nipples, dragging his tongue against it while groping the other breast. You whimper when he begins sucking: a shallow sound, but it travels down to his crotch. He already has to deal with the embarrassment of finishing early because of you; if he cums in his pants without any stimulation, you’ll surely be the death of him.

He can’t rely on you being a deep sleeper forever: the wing spiker must work quickly. Pulling away from your chest, Sakusa brings his attention to the lower half of your body. His hands glide down to your hips, hooking his index fingers past the elastic waistband. He wonders whether he should take his time removing the article of clothing or pull them down in one motion. You help him make a quick decision when your leg accidentally brushes against his hard-on. And while he refrains from letting out a groan, his hands make fast work of harshly tugging your pants to your knees. 

Silence: not a sound from you, not a breath from him. Your thighs clench momentarily out of reflex once the cool air hits the exposed skin. Not fast enough—Sakusa managed to catch a peek at your drooling cunt. And it isn’t until you finally relax again does he exhale with a light shiver from the sight. 

Now, with a clear view, the athlete reaches for his opportunity by swiping some of your essence and bringing that same finger to your clit. Your hips buck into his touch as he rubs slow but tight circles on the pearl, making his brows furrow in concentration and chest swell with pride. It isn’t long until he adds to his pace and slides a finger from his other hand into your sopping hole. Your thighs clench on impulse, a mewl leaving your throat as the air remains stuck in his. His movements are forced to a halt due to your hold, and it takes several seconds for you to settle. Do you enjoy the sturdy material of leather rubbing against your insides? Maybe you’re unaware of the answer, but God, wouldn’t the ravenette love to know.

Dipping his toes in the water is long out of the discussion; if anything, he’s in too deep, the water rising every second he proceeds. He might as well follow the rest of him down, no? Take that final gulp of air before dipping his head in and letting that frozen abyss swallow him.

Sakusa experimentally wiggles his finger inside you and, after gaining no reaction, slides in another. With how wet you already were, it doesn’t take much effort on his part. You gasp, but your eyes stay closed. Even with his morality slipping away each day he sees you, the wing spiker still finds himself surprised (and grateful) that you can sleep through his actions. He wonders how far he can go. 

The longer and deeper he pumps his digits inside you, the more reactions he earns from you. The squelching noises between your legs also become louder, especially with the leather material of his gloves. He’s no longer worried, just curious about what sounds and expressions he can pull out of you. 

A particular response tells him he’s found your sweet spot. With a drawn-out yet breathless wail, you lift your hips off the mattress once the ravenette prods at a certain part inside you. 

Where there is darkness, there is also light, and that’s exactly what could be said to describe the glimmer in his eyes upon discovering this hidden gem of information. He continues his ministrations, watching in fascination and lust as you grind into his touch. 

Meanwhile, his cock is begging to be released from its restraints, throbbing due to the display. Sakusa was hoping to hold out for a bit longer, mapping out your body in ways he hopes no one else has, but along with any logic and morality, his patience flies out the window. 

You whimper when the athlete slides his fingers out; he almost wants to coo, assure you that he’ll make you feel all better. He can’t, of course, so he opts to taste you, lick his digits clean of your slick. He’s certain he almost cums on the spot, your sweetness consuming his tastebuds (as well as a hint of bitter leather) and leaving its mark in his memories. The wing spiker’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he tries to refrain from groaning. 

When his gaze returns to your form, he’s swift with your pants, further sliding them down before doing the same to himself. Having his cock out of its confinements already does plenty for him, but not enough. Sakusa recalls how your cunt squeezed his fingers, practically sucking them in. You were warm, dripping, even with his gloves in the way. And with how eager he is to have you make a mess on his dick, he knows he’s no longer the same person he was before meeting you.

The athlete taps the tip of his cock against your clit a few times, just to watch you squirm, before sliding into your entrance. Only a few inches in, and he already has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip. None of this was a part of his plan—he’s not even sure he had one in the first place; he just needed to see you, feel your presence in some way, shape or form. And the latter is more than he could ever ask for, your insides hugging him just as tight as they did his fingers. The lack of a barrier is the icing on the cake. 

He’s bottomed out before he knows it, and Sakusa doesn’t know where to look: your face contorting from being filled to the brim or your cunt stretching open to accommodate his size. Either one intensifies the swirling of his lower stomach. All he can do for now is play with your clit until you appear to feel better. (And if that means you clench harder around him, then so be it. He’s come this far as is.)

After a few minutes, the wing spiker reels his hips back with a deep breath. His thrusts are gentle, as much of a challenge as it may be to hold back. He bites his bottom lip as he feels you hug every inch of his cock, threatening to milk him for all he’s worth when he’s barely begun. You’re so much better than his hand; no fantasy can compare. 

A few strokes in, and Sakusa’s restraint is thinning. Every time, he thrusts in a bit deeper, a bit faster, a bit harder. You’re quietly moaning between pants, your face twisting from a pained expression to one much lewder. Pretty lips parted with brows both furrowed and raised, you have the ravenette throwing his head back with a silent groan. 

Unfortunately for him, that’s when he catches sight of that damn necklace again. His grip on the sheets next to your head tightens, his thrusts sloppy as his mind races. What made Atsumu think he had the right? Does he think a necklace is all it’ll take to get you? Sakusa drops his head to glare daggers as you continue to mewl and whimper. What do you think is happening right now? Who are you thinking about right now? 

His mind keeps reeling, and the wing spiker fails to notice how he’s taking out his aggression in his thrusts.

Your whimpers grow to pathetic cries, tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and his hold on your sheets move to your wrists on instinct. With the mental spiral and physical force, the ravenette fails to notice your eyes shoot open.

Then, you gasp. “Sakusa!”

He hears the fear in your voice, no doubt. Yet, in a situation like this, with you beneath him, tears streaming down your cheeks as your sobbing and panting mix together, he can’t help but create a more beautiful scenario. You’re begging for him, his cock, needing him to fuck you stupid and fill you up to the brim, the pleasure so overwhelming that your nails are digging into his back, only his shirt shielding his skin from the potential marks. 

The athlete doesn’t think; he slams his lips against yours, his tongue quick to explore your mouth as his release hangs on to the edge. And when your pussy flutters around his dick, creams around it, it’s the push he needs. Hot spurts of cum paint your insides white as Sakusa kisses you harder, his hips stilling. Even as he groans against your mouth, he can hear your choked moans, and he never wants any of this to end. 

But that’s not how it works. Eventually, you both come down from your highs, his cock going soft and out of cum to give you. The wing spiker doesn’t pull out, but it doesn’t stop the white liquid from trying to seep out. It makes him shiver, slowly ending your kiss for you both to catch some air. The string of saliva connected to your lips that follows him as he sits up distracts him; something else to bind you two together. It’s messy, so so so messy. 

He loves it. 

You’re both breathing hard for the next several seconds, your terrified expression not faltering as your body trembles lightly. 

“Wha—How?” you gasp, sob, you’re not sure, and neither is he. He’s only half-listening, still floating on that release and too far away. “Sakusa, how did you get in?”

There they are again: those eyes. Empty pools, yet always full of judgement. Like you’re the crazy one. Tracing the river streams down your face and clumps of shields for lashes, they seemingly do more talking than his mouth. 

Then, Sakusa reaches a hand out to cup your cheek. You flinch, but it doesn’t stop him from wiping a stray tear. Even with your helpless sounds quieting down, the silence isn’t any less deafening. And when his voice, smooth and deep and a little too nonchalant, invades the room, you shiver.

“I was always here.”

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

#haikyuu #fanfic #fanfiction #hq #haikyu #haikyu!! #smut #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #yandere sakusa x reader #yandere haikyuu #sakusa smut #dark content #sakusa dark content #itachiyama #msby bj #msby sakusa

[bluepixiedream]

My brain has rotted after reading @a-b-riddle "Not me imagining medic reader who acts weird around Ghost."

And I desperately need it out of my head. So here is my take/version/homage to such a great idea. I wish I could lick their brain. Thank you for putting out something so downright FILTHY without being filthy at all.

I adore you.

CW: 18+!!!, no explicit smut but jeez…BASICALLY, language, not happy thoughts reader thinks about themselves, just overall 18+ only

Wc: little over 4k…I’m sorry. My brain. It rotted away :(

~

Being a medic on any military base had its ups and downs. Some bases had better food, others had personnel that would leave you alone and others always seemed to be busy.

That seemed to be the case with your current base.

If there wasn’t a training accident, then there was a critical mission gone awry and left you and your other three nurses scrambling for days to fix everyone back up. If it wasn’t either case, then it was a full moon which lead to patience being tested and some downright awful fights.

This week was the full moon and you were l feeling every part of it.

The worst part about this base was that you never seemed to get a full weekend to yourself. And not that you would complain much, you were normally off in your apartment fantasizing and wishing for a tank of a man to grab you and fuck your thoughts out but not getting your alone time had become…troublesome.

It led you into some dark thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. Outright outrageous, ravenous, porn idled thoughts about a certain Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley.

Yes, you were officially losing it, thanks for asking.

You couldn’t help it though. If it wasn’t his size that did you in, it would be his tree trunk thighs. Thighs that begged you to sit between them and be good as he watched football. Maybe you would choke him down too. Swallow him whole. Or just warm him with your throat because you weren’t needy or anything of that nature.

Maybe not his wonderful thighs that were doing it for you? Then it was definitely his arms. Bigger than your head and could easily crush you like a bug. God, you had countless hours of rubbing yourself thinking of him putting you in a headlock and making your dumb brain even dumber.

Perhaps his hands were the most fascinating to you whenever they weren’t covered by his gloves. Big and thick, just like the rest of him. Veiny too, and you hoped it was an indicator of another certain area being extra veiny as well.

And his voice. Whenever you heard him snap at the new recruits or put another private in their place, it absolutely melted you.

It also made you act like an idiot whenever you thought he was around.

Regardless of how hard you tried, and you did because you wanted to be good, he immediately became your whole world. You would accidentally poke your patient too hard while stitching them or keep the blood pressure cup on for too long, squeezing their much needed appendage. One time you almost poked a Sergeants eye out but thankfully, Sergeant MacTavish had thought that maybe the Lieutenant had frightened you after he called out for his Sergeant.

“Don’t worry ‘bout him, lass, he won’t bite.” He chuckled before you reset his arm, dislocated by a training accident, of course.

You wished he did bite. And hard.

But you made it a promise to yourself to never reveal to the infamous Ghost what you thought about him, or to anyone for that matter. The rejection alone would be too much for you and you honestly thought that maybe something was going on between the L.T. and his Sergeant. They were attached at the hip and it was quite cute to see them walk and talk together.

It made your thoughts that much more guilt ridden though.

How dare you fantasize about a man who was happily in a committed relationship. If it wasn’t with MacTavish, you knew it had to be with someone else. Someone had to claim the behemoth of a man because no way would it ever be that easy.

Or maybe he wasn’t what you were into at all. Your thoughts were…careless, some could call it. Disgusting was more the word you were called and were use to. Most men you were into turned out to be batting for the same team or a vanilla cupcake. And you loved them regardless and gladly walked with your head held high until you got your bed and collapsed on it, fighting your pants off and filling your disgusting, worthless cunt with your fingers.

And so far, being four months in at your new base, you didn’t want to know either way what Ghosts deal was. You were content on your thoughts and the little crumbs you would scarf up whenever you saw him in passing.

Everything was perfect.

Except for the eve of the full moon.

Dolores asked you to spend your evening taking stock of the inventory closet and with her being your boss, no way you could have said no, even if you wanted. So, at 6pm sharp, you started with your little clipboard and counter and made your way up and down the rows of medical supplies.

How fun.

Dolores was a stickler for keeping her supplies accurate and fully loaded for any and all events that could occur. You appreciated her thoroughness but it often led you to pulling doubles or overnight shifts since you were the only one she trusted to do this.

Bullshit, you wanted to say but you didn’t.

You wanted to be good and do a good job and you knew your reward for your hard work would be immaculate. Your bed. Twitter porn. A wand and a lengthy size piece you hoped was somewhat accurate to the Lieutenants and your dirty, nasty thoughts.

But that had to wait. And it did as you sat counting the wraps, the bandages, the gauze and the disposable gloves over and over until Nancy, a nurse you worked closely with and could almost call a friend, found you and quickly closed you both in.

“Are we alone?” She asked with a devious sprinkle in her eye. Your own eyebrows knitted together in confusion, the slight headache a few hours ago was a full on rager and your fingers were going numb from the counting and scribbling.

But no complaints from you, of course.

“I think so. What do you mean?” Your eyes shifted towards the linen closet that you swore was open earlier but was now tightly closed.

You figured Dolores wanted to keep it closed so no one would grab extra towels.

She was currently at war with a few privates who snuck her towels for unknown purposes.

Poor Dolores.

“Well,” she dragged on, baiting you into putting your stuff down and give her your full attention, which you did. You learned early not to fight Nancy and things had been smooth sailing for you ever since. “Cory and I were talking earlier and I wanted to ask you about something. Well, about someone.” You had no idea where this would lead but your heart began exploding. A cold sweat covered your forehead. Were you going to be sick? You were going to be sick.

“Okay.” Your voice was timid, dancing around a shark who smelt blood. Your blood.

“So, we noticed you, well, kind of act differently around a certain someone.” Your eyes closed as your palms pressed against them tightly, colors and flashes taking over as the rushing of your blood filled your ears. Nancy took that as confirmation. Poor Nancy. “Please don’t be embarrassed! Soap is super fuckin’ hot.”

What? Soap?

Your head shot up to her and even more confusion landed on your face. You shook your head and regretted every word that came after:

“I don’t like Soap.” Nancy’s face dropped her smile and tilted like she didn’t quite hear you. “I mean, he’s cute. I definitely see why everyone does like him.” Your voice was a little too high for your liking. And apparently, for Nancy’s.

“If it’s not Soap then…?” You promised yourself. You promised yourself…fuck it.

“Don’t tell anyone.” You looked at her pointing. Her eyes widen with the hidden accusation.

“Who am I going to tell?” She faked. Liar.

“Corey. Dolores maybe. Maybe the whole base, I don’t know Nancy.” You huffed in faked annoyance. Nancy laughed. It made your chest feel less tight, which was nice.

You still couldn’t get over the feeling of being watched though…

“Never! Maybe Corey, honestly. But you don’t ever tell me anything.” Nancy pouted while sinking to the floor to join you. “So, tell me! Let’s have girlchat as you work your second triple this week. Jesus, I think Dolores wants you dead.” You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I think she just wants me insane.” You agreed, your fingers finding a string dangling from your scrubs as you gathered the courage to finally tell someone about your innocent crush. Maybe it would help. Maybe it was time to let your crush get crushed and maybe you could move on and stop being a idiot all the time.

“It’s his Lieutenant.”

Nancy gasped dramatically but her eyes told you all you needed to know: That was not what she expected.

“Like, Lieutenant Riley?” She clarified and you decided to finally come clean.

“I’d jump off Buckingham Palace if it meant that he would fuck me six ways from Sunday.” Nancy snorted, her hand gripping her chest, eyes huge.

You swore you heard a squeak from the closet but you figured it must have came from Nancy.

“Are you-” you cut her off again.

“I would suck his dick for 24 hours straight if it meant he would choke me out with his arms next.” Nancy did yell before clamping her hands around her mouth to keep herself silent. You couldn’t look at her anymore, so your sheet filled with scribbled numbers became center of your attention. “And I get it, he’s in charge and physically fucking huge and always with Sergeant MacTavish and I don’t want to come between them or anyone else he has in his life. I just have…thoughts.”

Nancy chuckled in disbelief.

“Oh, those are just thoughts?” Her face was red. She was loving this and for once, it felt good to let go.

“Just thoughts. Like how would it feel to be a fleshlight for him. Or just sit between his thick thighs as I hold him in my throat as he ignores me. Does he like anal? How long could I fuck him until I cried? Are his balls too sensitive or can I suck on them too? Can I choke myself on his fingers? I don’t want him uncomfortable, so if I closed my eyes, would he spit in my mouth and make me hold it?”

Nancy was dying.

Full blown, laughing and crying, red faced, dying.

“Stop!” She begged, her hands trying to smooth her hair as she desperately tried to get herself together.

“I’d eat his cum out of my cunt so I could taste us mixed together.” You whispered when she finally looked sane enough.

You liked seeing Nancy happy. And if telling her your dirty thoughts did that, then here you were. Being a good dog.

“Oh my god! You perv!” She declared and for once, she as right. You were. You shrugged your shoulders in defeat. “You should tell him!” That got your attention.

“What, Nancy, no! Absolutely not. Not ever!” Horror filled you at the thought of him finding out your simple little crush. Much less, whatever else you think about.

“What? Why not?” She asked confused.

“Because that’s wrong. He’s a Lieutenant.”

“But not your Lieutenant!” She argued back.

“But it could still lead into… I don’t know. Bad stuff. Just…no. He’s probably in a happy relationship with MacTavish or he has his own person in the real world. Or he doesn’t like any of the stuff I like and that’s 100% a-okay with me. I’m just fine thinking about him every waking second and gooning out during my weekends and that’s all.” You shrugged, swearing you heard a snort but Nancy just looked on in confusion.

“Gooning?”

“Please don’t look that up. It’s a gross…thing. Just means I’m gross, gross, gross mammal.”

“But what if he is into everything you’re into? You’ve made up your mind before even talking it out with the man!”

“Did you not hear about him potential being taken?” You looked over at her hard. “I don’t even somewhat like the idea of being a second choice or hidden because of another. I’m…jealous. Irrationally so. It just leads to too much drama and heartache and suddenly you’re being jumped by five women and a man because you were left in the dark and nobody believes that you didn’t know. And trust me, women hit and kick. And hard.” You emphasized. You hated your life three years ago.

You still can’t get over the guilt and shame. It’s a reason why you were the way you were. Nancy gave you a soft, understanding look. Nothing more needed to be said.

“Well, I at least want to get you laid soon. When’s the last time you had fun and not by yourself?” She had a point.

“Thankfully, being taken care of. Well, in the process of.”

“Oh?” Tell me more, Nancy silently pleads with you.

“There is a…website and I matched with them. So, dinner next time I’m free and everything will be discussed then. After that, I’ll be rung out like a wet rag.” You shrugged a shoulder like it was a normal, every day occurrence. Nancy was not happy with that.

“Why does it sound so much like a transaction? Like a business deal?”

“When is sex not a business deal?” You countered, leaving her thinking. “I’m just particular in what I want. And I’m nonstop busy. Even if I go to a bar and meet someone organically, who knows if they like everything I do. Then, you have figure each other out, try to hint at everything until you’re five months in and realize, this isn’t what either of you wanted in the first place. I’m just cutting out all of that nonsense. My life is full of people who need me. And I’m very thankful for that.” You made sure to look at her dead in the eyes as a thank you for everything she’s done. She gave you a gentle smile, which eased some of your panic. “I just also need me time. And when I get that, I want to utilize that me time to the best of my abilities. Which means fucking someone who says they understand fully what I want and all the stipulations that come from that.”

“Oh, like someone who is also in the military and looks the part.” Nancy had a sly look on her face. You rolled your eyes with a chuckle.

“Looks the part and is the part are two different things. Do you know how many men are just big softy’s? Are petrified if they hit you wrong, you’ll explode? Or maybe they so scared of crushing you so everything is as soft as a feather. Or you’re just not big enough, small enough, strong enough, soft enough, easy enough, tough enough, beautiful enough or smart enough and when they finally see someone they like, they explode in your hand like they’re virgins again. And then you dye your hair and try to put on weight and discuss plastic surgery and manipulate the way you walk and talk so they look at you with an ounce that they look at everyone else with. And then you realize you’re tired and worthless and you just drop from their lives and you never speak again. It’s a really cool thing. Especially when you’ve done it a few times over.” You shook your head, embarrassed by your own ranting. “I’m sorry, that was a little too much.” Nancy laughed at that.

“No, not at all! Everyone feels insecure at times. No matter what. Even your girl over here.” You gave her a genuine smile.

“Shut up. But thank you. Sorry, I talked for too long.” You sighed, rubbing your jaw.

“You know what would else would hurt your jaw?”

“Shut up, Nancy.” You laughed and before another word could be said, the linen closet busted open revealing not only Sergeant MacTavish with a red face and a giant smile, but his silent and deadly counterpart: the Lieutenant himself, who stood there with his arms by his side and his face covered by a black balaclava as always.

The same Lieutenant you were just speaking about.

The same Lieutenant who heard everything.

“Don’t go on the date, lass!” The Sergeant called out to you but you couldn’t hear him. Your world dropped from under you as the fires of hell pulled you under.

Not literally, but you wished it was.

“Oh my god. Oh my god!” You had never jumped up so fast or ran from the supply room as quickly as you did. Real, true horror filled your veins as bile threatened to spew out.

You can’t believe he heard.

You can’t believe he heard!

You heard footsteps behind you but knowing Nancy was probably right behind you, trying to get you to stop and look at the man you had been drooling over for the last four months, you weren’t stopping for anything. If anything, it kicked you into a higher gear. Your goal was the surgery room that had access to an outside door for emergencies and you were thankful when you could finally see it. Putting in the passcode and getting an error, your panic rose as you heard the footsteps getting louder and louder.

“No, no, no, no, no,” you cried before the keypad glowed green and granted you entry. “Yes!” You slipped in and slammed the door closed. You knew Nancy would be right behind you so you didn’t stop even for a second. Slipping out to the cold, your shift and the inventory could be damned for all you cared.

You were never going back.

Fuck Nancy, fuck Johnny and fuck his delicious looking Lieutenant.

You eventually stopped running, your side aching as you thought about how badly screwed your were.

You should have listened to yourself.

You should have stayed silent.

You left on foot, regardless of the guards questioning glare but after seeing your tear soaked face, he took enough pity on you to let you go.

Thankfully.

You began your five mile walk to the city before flagging down a cab and taking it back to your shitty apartment. Your perfect safe haven. You just wanted a glass of water, strip your clothes off and never think about tonight again.

Which would be impossible because you couldn’t stop thinking about tonight. About MacTavish’s face. How red he was or how big his smile stretched out. ‘Don’t go to dinner’? Was he serious? Christ, fuck dinner. You were about to show up on your dates doorstep and beg the poor guy to take you right then. Fuck the process.

But that sunk your heart. You couldn’t do that to someone. So, you just went through the motions when you finally got in. Taking off your clothes. Getting a drink. And then chugging on an open liquor bottle to deal with your blinding shame. Quick, cold shower because that’s what bad dogs deserve. And lastly, you wrapped yourself up in your comforter and rolled to the ground and slide under your bed. A terrible habit you started when you were younger and never stopped. It didn’t matter that you shared the space with spiders and dust bunnies. You felt cocooned and safe. Even if someone was to find you, and how could they, but if they did, why would they look under your bed?

It was perfect.

It was perfect for 30 more minutes. Regardless of your bedroom being shut and your front door being locked, chained and deadbolted, you could hear someone try to make their way in. You figured after five minutes of struggling they would go away but much to your horror, you heard the door being shoved opened.

That couldn’t be Nancy…

You wanted to cry again but you kept yourself calm, breathing as even as you could while keeping your ear to the ground. You could hear multiple footsteps make their way in before the door was half shut.

“Are you here?” Nancy called out, her voice rocking you to the core.

Obviously not! You wanted to shout out but you didn’t.

“Can you please talk to us?” Oh my god, you were going to scream. Us. Motherfucker.

Your bedroom door opened but you knew that would happen. That was okay. You could see plain white shoes that went to Nancy stand at your doorway before retreating. Another bigger, louder footsteps fell behind her and again, stopped at your doorway.

“Lass? Please c’m ‘ere.” Johnny tried but you focused on the waves of embarrassment flowing over you and holding you under the water. He eventually left and for a moment, you thought you were safe.

How wrong you were.

The next footsteps were much quieter than before and when you looked at the boots and realized their size, your heart went into overdrive.

Ghosts.

Definitely Ghosts.

This time, the boots didn’t stop at the doorway but walked inside like they had been here before. They stopped walking, landing right towards your head. You wondered what he was looking at before your mind found a new dangerous game to play.

God, what you would give to lick his boots. Would he liked it if you ground your cunt on them? What if you cleaned them up after, would he like it then?

Suddenly you became too hot and without realizing it, your hand traveled to your panty covered mound and slid through your curls until it reached your hidden pearl.

Fuck, you were soaked.

Knowing Ghost was here, he was in your bedroom, where he heard that you masturbated to the thought of him, drew your body into the flames like no other.

You just couldn’t help yourself. And it’s not like he knows where you are so, you didn’t feel so bad.

So you rubbed. And rubbed. Staring at his thick, black boots and all the implications of what it meant.

Before long, he began walking away and even though it was exactly what you wanted, you felt a little sad too.

That is, until the door closed. With both of you in the room. Suddenly, your fingers stopped, and you realized how badly you might have fucked up. That maybe you didn’t have the upper hand like you thought you did.

“If you don’t get out from under the bed then I’ll get you myself. And trust me, little girl, you don’t want that.” Fuuuuck, you were going to cum just from his voice. It didn’t matter that he sounded a bit pissed at you. Or maybe a little…wound up himself. God fucking damn you.

But you refused. Maybe he actually didn’t know where you were. Maybe it was a lucky guess on his part. You didn’t want to give yourself away now, did you?

“One.” Oh my god, could he just marry you and throw you away in his basement for eternity?

“Two. Think about what you’re doing. Think about it carefully.” He taunted but you didn’t care. You weren’t budging. You refused. You would win. You would-

“Three.” A gloveless, thick and veiny hand shot out and wrapped around your arm and yanked you out faster than you thought possibly. You found yourself thrown on your bed, now staring at your ceiling before a leg forced its way between yours and now, before you could even breath, you had Lieutenant Riley between your thighs. You closed your eyes like it would help your current situation.

Ghost barked out a laugh and it only set to flush your cheeks out even more. The rolling heat made its way over your chest and settled over your heaving breasts.

You couldn’t even care that you were only in panties that were still somewhat pushed to the side, showing off your dripping cunt, your light tank top that did nothing to hide to your puffy nipples or ragged breath. And bra? What bra?

You were a fucking mess.

And you never looked so tempting to someone like you did to Ghost.

Fuck, he wanted to worship you right then. Suck on your clit and make you squeal. Pull on your nipples and slap your tits as you cried. Stuff you full of his cock and shove his fingers in your mouth until you couldn’t tell where he started and you began.

Patience, he tried to tell himself.

But patience was so fucking hard when you were practically dripping on him and he didn’t even do anything yet.

Fuck.

“Look at me.” You refused and Ghost loved that.

His hand began lightly tracing your cheek, down to your lips before pushing his way in and hooking his thumb in your cheek and pulling it. Your eyes shot open and found his amused ones staring back at you. Deep and dark, with a hint of green and a twinge of fire that you couldn’t believe.

His eyes were beautiful and you didn’t deserve to be looking at them.

Funny enough, he thought the same about yours.

“There you are, little girl. See? You can listen. Just have to push you right where I want you.” He smiled under the mask but you could only see the way his eyes scrunch up and how his voice was sweetly mocking you. It was going to be the death of you.

His fingers left your mouth but never left your body, still tracing your exposed skin and everything felt electrifying. You felt your whole body relax, allowing your thighs to let him closer to you, so close you could feel his pants pressing against your wet slit. How embarrassing, you wanted to think but you couldn’t help but the feel the bulge that pressed directly against your pulsing cunt.

You must have died, you decided. No way was this real.

“Oh, it’s real, little girl. Absolutely, positively fucking real.” He growled out, making you realize you were talking aloud. “We have some rules to set, don’t you agree?” His eyebrow twitched as a drunk smile laced your lips.

Maybe telling Nancy wasn’t all that bad…

#cod #call of duty #I had a thought after reading an AMAZING piece and I just couldn’t help myself #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #homage #god part 2 is filling my brain as we speak #addicted I tell you #ADDICTED

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hello!

I wanted to make a dogday x cheetah smilling critter reader

Reader is basically the fusion of hoppy and kickin chicken

They're very curious, adventurous and energetic always looking for action or adventure around the factory and sometimes even bringing kids along with them which sometimes would always lead to reader getting scolded by both dogday and some of the workers because of the dangerous situations reader puts the kids into

And one day after reader comes back from one of their adventures to talk with dogday, he finds out that reader had injured her arm and tail from falling from somewhere and also bringing a child they took with them that had a small scratch on its cheek

Oops! This is way longer then I expected sorry ^^"

(Texas) Hold Em’ Please

Note || ooh this is such a neat idea, hope this was okay <3

WC || 1,005

More often than not, you would go searching for new adventures in the factory. You simply couldn’t be tied down to one singular floor or location, you wanted to feel freedom and the excitement of being able to search for things; even if you’d already seen it before. It was quite pleasant to do so anyway.

Though, this had led to multiple scoldings from DogDay and a few of the employees, as you had a habit of bringing the children along with you when they insist on it multiple times. You couldn’t help it! You certainly couldn’t turn down the children’s pleas either. Why would you be the one to restrict them from a possible adventure of fun? So you had always said yes every time they had asked. 

You try as you might to protect them from the possibilities of any bruises or actual injuries, as you know that will lead to real scoldings you were sure you didn’t want to be faced with in any case. Sometimes, there were bruises involved but you always had great solutions and remedies to fix them right up. It was a fortunate thing indeed that there hadn’t been any incidents of injuries before. The children getting hurt was the last thing you wanted anyway.

You just didn’t take into account it would one day truly be you in that position.

This was a recurring setup, it was everyday during work hours you had gone outside regulations and went along on one of your adventures. For someone like you, it wasn’t out of the ordinary to do so, you had always done this. But the sunny dog was beginning to get worried, you were taking longer than normal to return to Playcare, to their spot. You weren’t back just yet, and so many thoughts swam through DogDay’s mind.

“DogDay?..”

He didn’t respond, the onslaught of thoughts, still capturing his self-attention continuously. The figure snapped their fingers against his ears once more, trying to get him back to reality. 

“DOGDAY!” He snapped out of his incessant thoughts to find that Hoppy had been the one to snap the leader out of his mind-chamber. DogDay blinked for a few moments, white pupils flickering in and out. He shook his head and turned to Hoppy, wondering why she was making time to converse with him right now.

“Hoppy, what is it?” DogDay inquired, tilting his head as he awaited her reply. She groaned with a huff escaping her as she put a paw on her hip. She seemed to be consumed in thought as to how she would go about saying what she needed to, “SO… uh, our particularly adventurous friend got back from a recent one.”

Hoppy jabbed a thumb right behind her, throwing up her other hand to do so. “You really ought to be the one to look at this.” DogDay began to get worried upon hearing the words of his friend, sometimes at most you brought a sense of unease with how often you had brought about your adventures both privately and publicly with few of the children. But what has happened now? Something bad no doubt, he must hurry.

He then nodded, then stood to his feet. “Thank you, I’ll go right away-” He then turned to the group of children that accompanied him, looking on in confusion. “Could you?..” DogDay trailed off, gesturing to the children. Hoppy nodded with an exasperated sigh, urging him to go and check on you.

DogDay scuttled away, waving at Hoppy before he had disappeared out of view. “You're the best, Hoppy!” He smiled at her then continued onward.

It didn’t take long for DogDay to find you, seeing as how he was informed that you were in the infirmary being checked on by a medical professional. Now it didn’t take long either for it to register this was a more major situation, you were hurt. He looked around to see another body in the Med Bay, the building was buoyant, yet so empty. 

A child?

A whimper snapped him out of his shock, you noticed that DogDay had arrived. “Hey.” You grin tired, the vocal pronunciation prolonged as you appeased in embarrassment before DogDay. He wasn’t sure what to say, out of the shadow of the fear raging within his heart that he might make the situation even worse than it needed to be.

“Angel,” He began, “What happened?” DogDay walked over to you, seeing as how the nurse had finally taken her leave. 

“I, I uh…” You stutter, burning in embarrassment. “I injured my arm and tail, and..” Your head snaps to where the child was resting, actually taking a nap after his cheek had been tended to. “He got a scratch on his cheek.”

DogDay’s shoulders deflated in relief, seeing the situation wasn’t as terrible as he had made it out to be. Suddenly, he had hugged you, causing you to choke out in surprise. 

“DogDay?”

“I’m just glad you two are okay.” His voice carried a warmth as if he had lived a long time, though it wasn’t the truth it had simply felt as if it was that way. DogDay laxed in his hold, pulling back so you could regain personal space. “All that there was to it, then there was no reason for me to worry that much.”

You were almost stunned, used to the scoldings you normally would get. This wasn’t one, not at all. DogDay was actually genuine with his words, you weren’t sure of what to say in return. DogDay couldn’t help but chuckle at your inability to speak, “NO, worries… okay? I just, I really don’t want to see you or any of the children hurt.”

“But, what had happened in the first place for you to end up here?” DogDay questions, head tilted and one ear raised. Typical dog-like behavior resides within your friend, a small laugh escapes you at the thought. You shrug your shoulders as you return in reply with words of your own.

“We fell.”

“...”

“What?”

#poppy playtime #dogday poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #x reader #poppy playtime dogday

[itsonlydana]

"passenger princess" | chapter one

the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana

❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader

❱ wordcount: 2,9k

❱ summary: the chaotic mess of playing monopoly drunk with your best friends

❱ warnings: alcohol

❱ an: the first chapter.. excited for you to read this! This has been heavily edited from my ao3 post soo have fun <3

general m.list + series m.list

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3

CHAPTER ONE: MONOPOLY

"Oh, would you look at that; you landed on my street. Again."

"What? No fucking way."

"Legolas"

"Gimli"

"Blondie, if I don't see my money in ten seconds I'm cutting your hair while you have your beauty sleep."

"No, you wouldn't dare!"

Across from Legolas, Gimli just flashed him a toothy grin, so wide and full of mischief, before leaning over the multitude of cards in front of him with a challenging tip of his head.

"Try me."

"Fine." Legolas drummed his fingers on the table, breaking the staring contest and waving it off like it had never bothered him. "Don't drag it out any further, Gimli, tell me what I owe you, and let me go my way."

For a moment Gimli pretended he had to look for them, but everyone at the table had noticed how his fingers had twitched for the green card as soon as Legolas had rolled the dice.

"You ended up on Oxford Street, which normally would've only cost you $26, but since I have not one, not two, but three houses, you now owe me a wonderful 900!"

And as in previous rounds, Legolas now quite unemotionally pulled two orange paper bills from his carefully sorted, rather tall, stack and received an already slightly worn 100 in exchange, which he accepted with a bitter grumble.

This exchange had happened so many times this evening that you now only rolled your eyes with a smile at the banter, sipping on your bottle of beer to avoid being drawn into the discussion in the first place.

The rivalry between Legolas and Gimli, playful in its purest form and with not an ounce of real bad blood, had become a permanent part of your life after you befriended the two of them.

Although it had slightly thrown you off at first how they went from harmless conversation to competition in seconds, you couldn't imagine your life without it.

In such a fast-paced modern world as this, you sometimes found it hard to hold on to friendships and avoid losing your grip in the swift whirl of time; in the case of many friendships that were strong at the time, you couldn't even remember if there had been a real goodbye, or if they had simply... disappeared - left behind or run ahead, who knew?

With Legolas and Gimli, however, it was different.

You met both of them on the first day of college, had run into both of them, literally, when you tried to get to your first class on time.

A class with a professor you'd only heard bad things about Visitor's Day. The hushed whispers of scared students, their eyes telling you more than what they actually dared to say on campus.

You were close to being punctual, wouldn't it have been for Legolas and Gimli. The duo stood in front of the closed lecture door, simply staring through the tiny window and looking like they would rather perish than actually open it.

Their looks of fear mirrored yours and it was clear that all three of you had heard the stories of students getting their heads ripped of by Professor Sauron. That man had strong feelings about tardiness– and it was only your first day.

You of course rushed to apologize, babbling that you hadn't seen Gimli, and no, it wasn't because of his size but rather due to your lack of attention, and please could they stay on your side when you go into the hell of public humiliation?

By some wonder the Professor had his back turned to the auditorium to fill the blackboard with the required reading list, as you snuck along the stairs and miraculously dropped into the last three empty seats without getting caught.

And when you had breathed a sigh of relief, the brunette who sat on your right passed you the attendance list he had kept with him a little while longer, as if he had suspected that someone else would be late.

That's how you met Aragorn. The ruggedly handsome brunette added to your trio and was conveniently organized enough to lend you and Gimli a pen for the first week.

From day one, you formed an inseparable unit, whether on campus, in the numerous bars you frequented, or in the parks where you often spent your free time - rarely were any of you seen without the others and you would never hear the others utter one single bad word about the other.

You practically did everything together, from classes, many of which you shared – often to the annoyance of professors and fellow students due to the vibrant and occasionally noisy atmosphere you created– to lunches lounging under the campus's shady trees, with Aragorn reading poems from his literature class, and you occupied with braiding Gimli's long-grown beard while Legolas dozed in the longing stares of bypassers, gossiping and flirting.

On weekdays before exams, you either barricaded yourselves in your tiny dorm room, for it was the closest to the library, quizzing each other up and down the subjects, writing flashcards, most of which you wrote, to give to Legolas and Gimli afterward, and after exams, you forced your way into bar after bar, leaving your marks in benches and stools, squeezing into cramped photo booths in brightly lit clubs.

The first trimester passed swiftly, much like the initial semesters of the second, which you were presently struggling to handle.

It was the college life that everyone probably dreamed of, that every movie romanticized, and even you sometimes couldn't believe how perfect everything was.

Certainly, not every exam resulted in a perfect score and not every day was adorned with rose-colored glasses of happiness perched on your nose.

Yet, be it a poorly performed test, a date lacking sparks, or a random low point, your boys stood steadfastly by your side, offering unwavering support.

Today was no different.

The day had started with you waking to the sun and not your alarm clock and getting your ass handed by Professor Sauron.

It continued with some pretty demotivating feedback on an essay you'd worked many late nights by your Herbology Professor Baggins.

He did offer you a pat on the back that probably meant to cheer you up but felt condescending considering the amount of red ink staining the essay you'd crumbled in sweaty hands.

Adding that to Professor Sauron's embarrassment of you in front of the entire class sank your already low spirits to the basement.

Not even Aragorn's consoling hand, which remained steadfastly by your side throughout the day, guiding you from one class to the next, mumbling soft words and trying to cheer you up with soft kisses to your forehead, could lift you out of this emotional abyss.

How you survived that day was a mystery but after eight hours of you pouring out bad energy like radioactive waves, Legolas must've had enough of your moping and the grim expressions you fired at anyone who shouldered you in the hallway.

With a determined, "We're going to my place," the blonde had put his pep talk plan consisting of a trip to the liquor section of the supermarket and an order from the delivery guy into action.

It was this very plan that had gotten you into your current situation.

Slightly drunk at the kitchen table of the House of Oropherion.

A Monopoly board in front of your nose, around it several empty beer bottles. Pizza boxes scattered on the countertops and bags of all sorts of sweet stuff that Legolas had sweepingly pushed from the shelves into the shopping cart, blowing pink bubble gum bubbles.

The guy seriously had a snack-problem and a spending habit that surely made for a good intervention.

Within a few hours, you had turned the otherwise pristine and tidy kitchen into a battlefield that looked a lot like the one in your dorm.

Whereas the one in the dorm was used by twenty young women and many of their partners, and this one just by four.

Just as in the dorm, loud laughter echoed through the entire house, accompanied by your shared playlist.

Legolas had set it playing on the expensive stereo while preparing his snack bowl.

It was a chaotic mix, Legolas pop music, Gimlis folk metal and Aragorns indie rock while you sprinkled in a few classical songs or added whatever else was missing.

Quietly, you hummed along to the hottest chart song of this summer.

Your spirits had risen by now, thanks to your best friends, even if it did look like they were about to go for each other's throats over a denied exchange of a road.

"My Lady," Aragorn interrupted the rising argument between Legolas and Gimli and held out his hand with the dice to you, "Please stop this madness and continue the round so we can finish this eventually.. hopefully today"

Grinning, you accepted the dice, "I will do my best, my lord," while Gimli muttered into his beard, "Not my fault Barbie isn't giving me what's rightfully mine."

As expected, the idiots fell silent as soon as you gave the dice a quick shake in your closed hands and then tossed them across the table with a clatter.

Of course, in the face of eventual earnings, everyone immediately calculated where you would end up and who might rip off what little money was left in front of you.

Two threes.

And everyone groaned in annoyance.

Only you grinned as you dragged your silver dog figure across the Park Lane and Mayfair field decorated with a few of Legolas hotels, right over GO and landed on your own field.

Another round where you survived on the 200 notes from pulling over GO, anxious not to land on one of the hotel fields from the others.

Because, unlike the others, greedy little hoarders who acquired your properties, swindling you with meager donations, you possessed only the two modest brown streets, yielding little profit.

With each move of yours, the others hoped you would finally end up on one of their plots and finally be eliminated, but as if fate would have it, you seemed to be avoiding it just fine.

"And she lives another round," Aragorn raised his beer bottle in your direction and winked "Any bets on how many more you'll survive?"

You snorted as you shook the dice in your hand again. "You're not getting rid of me that fast."

The dice clattered across the board, two ones and loud rumbling from the boys, you moved to the community chest square laughing.

Reaching across the board, you grabbed the top card of the cards and dramatically pulled it up to your chest.

To your left, Legolas drummed his fingers impatiently on the table, and even though Aragorn has so far stayed away from the competition between Legolas and Gimli, he too now nodded his chin questioningly at the card.

At an almost agonizingly slow pace, you turned it over, keeping eye contact with your boys for a while, though, before looking down, skimming the printed text, and laughing out loud.

"What does it say?" Legolas inquired, trying to lean toward you, dark eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Geez, tell me it's a bad card."

"You can decide that for yourself, Gimli," chuckling, you held out your card in such a way that the three of them almost bumped heads, so fast were they bending to the center.

"You've got to be kidding me," Aragorn slumped back in his chair with a moan, and Gimli slammed his hands flat on his thighs, cursing a string of words that in their pure filthy form would make anyone else blush.

You were only spurred on by them, and laughter burst out of you, loud and full of glee.

"I'd like a hundred from each of you right now, it's my birthday after all," you smirked, holding out your hand.

Aragorn was the first to put a bill on it, and even Gimli, though he stressed that he would get it back before you ran out of laughter, handed over something from his well-guarded account.

"Laaas, what am I waiting for? A birthday song?" you asked.

Legolas raised a perfect eyebrow and slid you a bill looking so bored that you almost bought it, "You can wait a long time for a song."

"For the chance to hear your voice dedicate a song to me, I'd wait a thousand years," you sang, winking with a sugary smile on your lips.

"Or I'd just watch the recordings from last night's karaoke, I'd even get a love song from you as a gift," dramatically you grabbed your chest with both hands and threw your head back

"And wouldn't that be oh so romantic?"

"Please," he scoffed, "If I'd really tried you'd be on your knees in seconds. Babe, I have charm."

For a moment you manage to pulled yourself together, looking into Legolas' eyes, holding his challenging gaze from which you didn't know to interpret if he truly believed his statements himself.

Then you heard Gimli's dirty laugh.

The redhead hands hit the table so hard that several of the hotels flew in all directions, and with them your composure.

With a rather unfeminine snort, you threw yourself backward in your chair, your head craned back and your arms folded in front of your stomach; there was no saving you from the laughter that bubbled out of you like hot water on a stove.

"Your charm?" you gasped, trying to blink away the tears in your eyes.

Unsuccessfully, because when you saw Legolas stand up indignantly and toss his blond hair over his shoulder, the tears flew unstoppably down your cheeks.

Sure, you were aware of what a charming man Legolas could be; you were teasing, not blind.

It took nothing to perceive him for what he was, and that was a flawless beauty. That angelic face, long blond-gold hair flowing over his shoulder, and eyes ever so gentle, marked him a natural beauty and unfortunately, you couldn't deny that what came out of his mouth most of the time made most men and women's hearts swell.

You were friends with him, though, and the idea of being even remotely touched by his charm made you laugh beyond control.

And you heard all the bullshit the guy yapped about when there was no one around he wanted to impress.

"What?" Legolas asked, and in his voice, a challenge that, voiced by the beer, didn't bode well, "I don't want to sound too arrogant" –snickering from the three of you– "go fuck yourselves, I'm charming! I'm sure, oh I bet, that you would fall for it!"

And before you would have objected much, he took a big swig from his bottle and slid down from his chair.

Right in front of you.

Onto his knees.

It was the look of firm conviction in his eyes, the way he reached for your hand and gently held it like it was made of cracked glass against his chest, that made your laughter turn into a silly giggle.

Legolas, even though he was swaying a bit and his words were no longer flowing too loosely from his tongue, was a sight you wouldn't any time soon. "My darling friend, whose attention I do not deserve–"

"Now that's what I call true words," grunted Gimli, who had also leaned back in the meantime and received a punishing look from Legolas before the blond turned back to you.

"–whose attention I don't deserve and that yet has me blossoming, like the first flowers reaching out to the sun, for you are the light in my life. Everything that connects us tugs at my heart, it cries out for more and I'm afraid I can no longer remain silent about my feelings"

Ironically, at that very moment, he paused, seemed lost in thought and stroked the back of your hand with his thumb.

Not that it helped him really.

But you waited patiently nonetheless, letting Legolas continue to play the role of the poet.

He looked back at you from the far distance in which his gaze had become playfully entangled, and you saw the twitch of his lips, the sign of a cheeky grin he tried to keep down.

It didn't matter what words made him fight the grin, though, Legolas didn't get to say them.

Thanks to the music, which had faded into the background but still sounded through the sound system, as well as your group's silly fooling around and never-ending laughter, you hadn't heard the front door unlock, or the footsteps in the hallway.

It wasn't until an amused-sounding "Oh, am I interrupting?" rang out in a very familiar voice behind you that you became aware of the new presence in the room.

Immediately, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, the deep voice rolling over your entire body like sweet honey.

You heard Aragorn laugh, a murmured, "You've lost your girl, Las," and the blonde in front of you groaned as he struggled to his feet.

"Great, wow, I was literally so close to getting her around. Thank you so much, Ada," Legolas scoffed.

You followed his gaze, eyes falling onto the man casually leaning against the kitchen counter.

And your heart jumped inside your chest.

taglist: @mushroomemeralds @mssuguru @solartoge

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil fanfiction #lotr x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lotr fanfiction #📁files: passenger princess

[littledollll]

Hii can I please request a fic for principle weems x student reader. Where R has been missing from classes all day and the teachers have reported it. so weems goes to find R and is kind of mad beacuse R is a bit of a problem student with good grades. So when she finds R is sick in her dorm w a fever and is delirious she’s worried and so weems looks after her. I would love this. Thank you for considering it even if you dont write it :) also I love your writing its very amazing. <3 (sorry if this request is a bit long)

Problem child

Larissa weems x student!reader

A/n: I love requests like this so don’t you worry! I started writing this the very same night you requested and had so much fun, thank you for your request<3

Warnings: platonic relationship, sick reader, Larissa being such a mom, reader actually calls Larissa mom once, food.

————————————————————

Larissa could already feel a headache coming on after checking the attendance of the homeroom teachers to find out that you were yet again, not in class. But it wasn’t until the end of the day that all the teachers reported you missing from class that she really got concerned.

It’s always something with you. It was one of the seven wonders to Larissa how you managed to keep up good grades while simultaneously being one of the most problematic children in the school. So you not showing up to any of the classes had to mean you were up to no good. Thankfully though, when she checked if your usual group of trouble making friends attended class, most of them were in all their classes, with the occasional skip or tardy. So what could you possibly be up to on your own?

She was about ready to storm into your room and even more ready for the probability of not finding you there. Turns out she didn’t even consider any of the normal reasons for why a student would miss class, figures.

To say she was shocked to actually see you in your room, in your bed, practically rotting away sick, would be an understatement. In a flash, her anger seemed to fade away as she knocked on the door to announce her presence, which was a little too late but still appreciated.

You looked her way as you heard it, and instantly groaned and turned away. “Oh my you look horrible-“ words came tumbling out of her mouth before she could even think and rephrase.

“Oh thanks- I really appreciate that.” The middle of your sentence was cut off by a cough. You sounded horrible too, but Larissa learned to shut her mouth by now with the dripping sarcasm in your words. “I apologize. That’s not what I meant to say. I just mean you look really ill.” You turned to her, squinting your eyes. “Yeah sure, that sounds better.”

Larissa sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.” And you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t bite back even with your hoarse voice. “And you’re an as- mean. You’re mean.” You instantly trailed off from your intentes words at Larissa’s warning look, but she moved on from it quickly.

“Do you have a fever?” She asked, not wanting to overstep or touch you without you allowing it. “How the hell would I know? I just feel like shit and the world is all spiny..” Did you just feel like being extra impossible today? She sighed. “Have you been locked in here the whole day?” The second you nodded she decided to take the rest of the afternoon to care for you as best as she could.

She encouraged you to go back to sleep as she went down to the cafeteria, grabbing a few bottled waters and having them pack up your dinner to bring back to your dorm. Usually nots allowed, but in cases like these she’d make an exception.

When she came back you were already fast asleep. She sighed and spoke quietly to herself. “What am I going to do with you, problem child?”

In all honesty, she truly didn’t know what to do. Should she wake you up to eat?.. no resting should take priority but it’s late, and you’ve yet to have a bite of food. So after a bit of contemplating, she lightly shook you awake, leaving you to wake up confused. “..mom?”

Oh you poor thing. Larissa offered a small smile, choosing not to mention it. “I’ve brought you dinner, I think it’s best if you eat up before heading back to bed, alright?” You whined and complained but eventually sat up, looking between Larissa and the food a little awkwardly. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to sit here and watch you eat. I just needed to make sure you’d actually get to it.”

You nodded, placing a pillow over your lap and resting the container there. There was a beat of silence before you looked back up to her. “Thank you.., principal Weems.”

She flashed you her signature smile, it was oddly comforting. “Of course. Do let me know if you need anything else, and please, rest up, darling. I rather see you up and causing trouble than like this.”

#larissa weems #principal larissa weems #gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #larissa wednesday #larissa x reader #larissa weems wednesday #larissa weems fluff #principal weems fluff

[xoxo-surfergirl]

A Very Targaryen Holiday - Dark!Aemond x Strong!Niece

Part I

summary: Lucera and Aemond reunite with their families to spend the holidays together. Aemond wasn’t always nice to her when he was younger, but has he changed?

notes: the main pairing in this is aemond x strong niece, but I guess I did write it as aemond x fem!lucerys velaryon. Whichever floats your boat more! aemond is not the nicest in this, but this fic is a mix of fluff and smut (but none of the fluff comes from aemond, lol). Slight dubcon, rough oral sex, and attempts at humor. There are no physical descriptions of Lucera besides her having long hair. There is a second part, which I will be posting soon. I cross post on ao3, with essentially the same username (just without the hypen) xoxosurfergirl! I hope you enjoy!!!! <3

Lucera took a deep inhale, followed by a deep exhale. Indulging in her breath usually helped whenever her nerves began to get the best of her. Her suitcase was cracked open in front of her, waiting for her to stuff it.

A few fancy dresses. A few long sleeves—it could get cold there at night. Several pairs of pants. A tank top just in case. A swim suit for the hot tub. More underwear than she needed.

She ran back to her dresser to grab the last few items required to fulfill her trip, when her door swung open loudly. Baela was able to nearly leap from the door to the bed, causing her comforter and pillows to jump from impact.

Her curls splayed out onto the bed in a halo. “I’ve always loved your bed. It’s the softest out of all of ours, you know.”

Lucera looked at her, unease crawling its way through her stomach and up her throat. “Yeah, well. You can always ask mother for a new one.”

Baela softened her face. “Luce, I know this is weird for you.”

“No, no. It’s fine, really, it’s just been awhile.” Lucera folded her clothes to keep her hands focused.

“It’s not really fine. I know we haven’t talked about it for a long time, but I know how weird it must feel for you.”

Lucera sighed. “It’s just, everything might be completely normal you know? And I’m anxious about nothing.”

Baela sat up on the bed, making deep eye contact with Lucera. “Don’t discount your feelings. It’s been four years since we’ve seen them, and for very good reason. Let me remind you that after you accidentally maimed him, he did try to hurt you. On purpose.” Lucera looked away, but Baela continued. “The only reason why we haven’t celebrated Christmas with them is because there were so many close calls and mother noticed”

She remembered the “close calls”. If only they had known all of the times the calls weren’t so close, but no one was there to see it.

“I know, I just wonder sometimes if it’s all in my head. Nothing really happened,” Lie. “I’m the only one who actually hurt someone.” A deep sense of shame leaked through Lucera’s chest, one that she had been trying for years to tame.

But Baela wouldn’t let her stew. “It was an accident, Luce. It’s okay. I’ll tell you as many times as you need to understand it. But what he was doing was not an accident. Remember the year he locked you in Grandfather’s industrial freezer for half an hour? Any longer than that and you would have died. Remember last time he took an ornament and forced you to crush it with your hand so you’d get glass stuck in your skin? Remember when he tried to slam your arm in the oven but Jace stopped him? Remember that other year he almost drowned you in the hot tub? There are even more than this, Lucera. You are perfectly right to be nervous about seeing him again.”

The walls in her mind were crumbling with Baela’s narration of the past holidays. These were memories Lucera had done her best to stifle, but they always returned louder than ever. She would never tell Baela that she had let him do these things, or that there were several more incidents that no one else knew about, because she had always felt like he deserved some form of retribution for losing his eye at her hand.

Aemond had always taken a keen interest in her. He had always followed her, watched her intently. It wasn’t hard to take notice of it. Everyone had.

But everyone had written it up to be nothing beyond youth fascination. Children stare at each other all the time. There was nothing peculiar about Aemond’s behavior.

It was only after the accident that his attention on her took a slight new meaning. Although hesitant at first to resume the previous non-concern from the rest of her family, time had worn away the worry it had initially caused. It had allowed for much else between them to take place.

“Thank you, Bae. I am nervous, but part of me does think we’ve all changed a bit. I certainly have.” And she had. They are adults now. It would be weird if he was still into torture. Most kids grow out of it.

“Exactly. We were weird teenagers and now we’re actually older. I’m sure we’ve all changed a lot since then.”

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

The snow crunched under their tires, a fresh coat not yet salted by the city. Lucera recognized the skyscrapers in the distance, and her face softened when she saw the telltale curves of the family company’s building peak around the corner. Although it had been some time since she had visited their family townhouse in the city, she remembered the streets like she had lived there her whole life. Happy Little Treats, the best bakery in the city. Blackie’s, the best diner on the East Side.

Her, Rhaena, Jace, and Baela had decided to drive separately from their parents, who also had Joanie with them, as well as little Aemma and Viserra. It was much easier to take two cars, especially when they knew they would probably want to go out at different times from their parents who had two little ones. Poor Joanie, too young to be with the older girls all the time, but also far too old to be stuck with Aemma and Viserra, was doomed to float between the two groups.

The radio was tuned to holiday music, and the girls delighted in singing along to every song that rang through the speakers.

As they were closing in on their destination, Baela intercepted the music with her normal speaking voice, the first to do so in over an hour. “What do you think they all look like now?”

Rhaena was the first to answer. “I’m not sure about Aegon or Aemond, but Helaena and I see each other at uni. She’s radiant and beautiful, as she always has been.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot you've mentioned seeing her around.” Baela replied.

Rhaena smiled, and shook her head down. “Yeah, she’s the coolest, honestly.”

Baela laughed. “Out of those three? It’s no competition.”

Jacaera’s breath fogged up the window as she spoke. “I’ve seen Aegon and Aemond in passing at uni as well. They seem alright. Aegon is no longer the tall one.”

Lucera perked at this. Aemond? Tall?  She shook her head. “I swear I forget we all go to the same school sometimes. There’s just so many people I never see them.”

“Aemond is tall now? Wow. I’ll have to see it to believe it.” Baela jeered.

Jacaera drew a heart in the fogged glass before turning and facing the rest of her sisters. “Yes! It was honestly shocking at first. I barely recognized him, but I saw the eyepatch and knew immediately.”

Oh right. The eye patch. Lucera sighed. Baela moved her hand to sit atop hers in acknowledgement.

A right turn here, a left turn there, and the chateaux-style massive townhouse came into view. The four stories were gaudily embellished by baroque trim, with a massive oak door calling attention to its center. Wreaths were attached to the base of every windowsill, and a candle placed in each window. They watched as Rhaenyra and Daemon pulled Aemma and Viserra out of their carseats, having arrived a few moments before they did. Joanie was looking up at the mass of the townhouse, most likely counting how many windows there were, trying to remember which room was what.

Two men Lucera didn’t recognize dressed in all black greeted her parents, and Daemon smiled and gave him his car keys.

Rhaena twisted the steering wheel to pull up right behind them, and the other man dressed in black immediately jumped to open all of their car doors. Lucera felt like she was moving in slow motion the way the man was everywhere at once, and by the time she had stepped onto the sidewalk, he already had the trunk thrown open and was lifting their suitcases next to her.

“Thank you!” Lucera said enthusiastically, trying to cut through his quickness.

The house—if it could be called such a humble thing, loomed above her. She felt as if she was stepping into all holidays past, where he lingered with the bitter taste of sadism.

The large doors eased open, beckoning them inside. When she peaked in, she saw Daemon’s black trench coat deep in the arms of her grandfather, Rhaenyra to his side, buried in Alicent with a beaming smile of delight. They let go, embracing one another in turn. Viserys could barely contain his excitement at the sight of the little ones, having crouched down to greet them. Lucera noticed the exact moment he caught sight of the rest of her and her sisters, and his joy multiplied ten times over.

“Oh, my girls! My girls.” He said, reaching in to hug each one of them. “I couldn’t be more happy to have all of my family in one place again.”

Greetings were further extended to Alicent. It must have been an exhausting process for Viserys and Alicent, she guessed, since there were so many of them.

Alicent addressed the group. “I was just telling your parents, the rest of them are lost in the house somewhere. I’m sure you’ll see them shortly.”

The girls nodded, and Joanie said something about being excited to see Daeron. The flurry of movement divided as everyone was sent to their rooms to unpack.

Alicent nodded to a staircase on her left. “I put you girls up in the kid’s wing.”

Jacaera laughed, playfulness in her voice. “Only some of us are still kids.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous,” Alicent waved her hand downwards. “You’ll always be children to me.”

Climbing up three floors was exhausting without the bag, and Lucera could hardly imagine doing it with the extra weight in tow. She looked at the house staff carrying her and her sisters bags, and felt a bit sorry for them.

After reaching her rooms, she was delighted to see that she had a window overlooking the front sidewalk. There were fresh winter roses placed delicately in an opaque white vase on her bedside table, the blue jumping out against the walls of her bedroom.

Her nerves were reaching an all time high. She still hadn’t seen Aemond, yet he was here. But her thoughts were interrupted when Baela swung open her door.

Lucera turned to look at her. “Do you ever knock?”

Baela spun around and leaned exaggeratingly against the door frame before saying, “Not with you, I don’t. All of us girls are going to the hot tub. Put your bathing suit on.”

Lucera smiled, and unzipped her suitcase. “I’ll be ready in five. Wait for me?”

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

The hot tub was roiling, jets pumping near blistering water against their backs. It was heavenly. Their hair was tied up in variations of buns and pony tails, the ends tickling their necks.

Rhaena had been intently looking at the back of the townhouse. “It’s so crazy to be back here after all these years.”

“It’s hardly changed since then. It feels like I’m stepping into a place frozen in time.” Jacaera marveled.

Helaena chuckled at their insight. “I’m sure it feels that way. I haven’t been to Dragonstone in forever either.”

Jacaera turned to her in revelation. “Gods that’s right! You should come stay with us for the summer. The beach is so warm then.”

“Yeah! Maybe when we all finish up our finals Helaena can just come home with us?” Rhaena said in agreement.

“I’d be happy if you had me,” Helaena replied. “What are all you studying anyways?”

Baela went first. “I’m studying business, with a concentration on finance.”

Lucera seconded her. “Me as well.”

Jacaera tagged at the end of Lucera's agreement. “Also me.”

Helaena laughed. “All you three planning to work for the family business, then?”

“Something like that. Jacaera, Baela, and I will take over after Rhaenyra and Daemon.” Lucera answered. “After Viserys passes, of course. It will be awhile, but there’s a lot to learn anyways.”

“Aemond’s going to do the same. Aegon isn’t interested in being a part of Hightower Associates, and neither am I, but Aemond is preparing to take over after our grandfather. Have you seen him around uni?”

Baela chuckled. “We were just talking about that,” she looked at Jacaera. “Only Jace has, really.”

“Hm. That’s funny considering he’s also in your department.” Helaena remarked.

“Right? I mean the library is huge, but it can’t be that large. I’m there all the time.” Jacaera pondered.

“Knowing him, he probably found a secret room and lives out of it”. Helaena sighed. “He doesn’t go out too much, and he’s really focused on his work.”

Lucera thought about the growing man Aemond had morphed into. One who was deeply integrated and committed to his family business, just as she. It only meant he had gotten more cutthroat. It’s the only way to survive in the world of finance they were thrust into. None of the top hedge fund managers, heads of banking families, or titans of brokers reached and stayed where they were because they were the most virtuous. To survive in this world meant being vicious at times.

A trait that ran in the family, clearly.

“We’ll probably run into him one of these days.” Baela acquiesced. “What are you studying again Helaena?”

“Studio art, concentrating on painting. Aegon is doing the same, but focusing on photography. We both much prefer it to the chaos of the family business.” She said proudly, until she realized the context of the conversation. “Not that I’m putting you down for choosing it, or anything.”

Jacaera giggled. “No, we get it. It is pretty chaotic.”

The hot tub had gone from the initial burn, to comfortable, to boiling again as the conversations ebbed and flowed through several different interests of theirs, such as their love lives and the semester's hook-ups, with extra time spent on the more embarrassing ones. It was truly Baela dominating the bulk of the conversation, hardly anyone else had anything to add apart from a meager makeout here and there.

Baela was also newly introduced to the term “situationship”, as the rest of them deduced she was most certainly in one with Adam Hull.

“Just because we sleep in the same bed most nights doesn’t mean we’re together.” She objected.

Helaena was set on getting her to admit it. “And does he stay in the morning? Do you do any other activities together?”

Baela scoffed. “We get dinner sometimes. And go to the movies every Tuesday, but that’s only because tickets are half-off on Tuesdays. And we go to the gym together. But it’s nothing, really.”

Helaena tried to ease her into it. “You do realize that is essentially a relationship, besides you have no direct commitment or any expectations? Someone is going to get hurt eventually.”

Lucera rolled her eyes. “And it’s probably him. Gods Baela, the man is probably in love with you and you are too daft to see it.”

All eyes on her, Baela was lost in the processing of this new information, until she remembered who and where she was, and quickly found a way to deflect it. “Oh shut up. Says you, you’re like the genuine version of a pick-me girl. Every man who looks at you falls in love with you.”

Lucera rolled her eyes. “You’re exaggerating.”

A smile crept across Baela’s lips, successfully removing the attention away from her situationship. “Um, no I’m not. What of Tyrek Lannister? Gerrick Greyjoy? Dorren Stark? And that’s only from this quarter.” She used her hands to prove her point, counting them on her fingers.

Lucera threw up her arms. “I can’t help it! Honestly! Besides, I don’t lead anyone on, just have maybe a kiss or two.” The rest of the girls sang a chorus of oos, bringing a blush through her cheeks.

“And who was the best out of them?” Jacaera coaxed.

“It hardly matters,” Lucera drawled, “but, it was Gerrick.”

“Hm. I’m surprised it wasn’t Stark.” Rhaena gave a side-long glance at Jacaera. “I’ve heard good things about Stark men.”

Jacaera’s face flushed, praying the heat from the tub would conceal her thoughts. Naturally, everyone noticed, but chose to spare their easily flustered sister.

Helaena looked her in the eyes, and threw her a trusting wink.

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

As the day wore on, Lucera’s anticipation of seeing Aemond waxed and waned. She thought it would have happened by now—if they were still kids, it surely would have, being at the age where presence around the family was required. She thought of the many places he could be, the things he could be doing, but it was difficult to imagine someone she hadn’t seen in several years. It was nearly impossible to conceive of it, and it only raised her nerves.

Dinner passed along quietly, winter soup and charcuterie being served on a come-and-go basis in the parlor to account for the rush of her family’s arrival and the need for a little bit of flexibility in their schedule. Afterall, there was still much planned for the day: they were going to the ballet, and everyone would be attending.

In front of her vanity, Lucera examined herself in the mirror. She lifted the delicate silver chain to secure it around her neck, the deep crescent moon in its center sitting in the joint of her collarbones. She didn’t try to examine her reasonings for being extra fickle about what she wore, but it was hard to escape his presence in them. It had been so long, and she didn’t want him to think her ugly. He either had changed for the better and would no longer say his cruel thoughts aloud, hadn’t changed and would say that and so much more, or he had gotten worse. A shudder rippled through her as she tried to imagine how that could be possible, but what if it was?

She wanted him to look at her and see how much she had changed, that she was no longer a girl anymore. And perhaps, if he had any lingering thoughts of resentment, that could lend him to realizing that she was no longer deserving of his hostility.

Her nerves from earlier had thawed, and amongst the remains was a newfound confidence. Her mary janes clicked on the sidewalk, her self-assuredness carrying through her legs. She reached into the SUV where her family was waiting for her.

Rhaenyra, holding Aemma on her left leg, reached over and grabbed her hand. “You look radiant, darling.”

Jacaera patted the seat next to her. “Something got your spirits up?”

“Nothing in particular, just had a good day.” And it was true. The day had been knotless. She had been surprised by its ease, and delighted just the same.

Once the tires slowed and the doors slid open, she reached her hand around to grab the frame, the other taking Daemon’s hand to step out of the car. The marquee hung gaudily above them, its essence of performance steeped in its display. She looked around for the Hightowers, who had pulled in ahead of them. She found Alicent’s thick calico fur shawl, trailing to Helaena’s platinum hanging down her back, to…

Her throat seized. Was that really him? His back was set against her, but she could see Aegon’s side profile, meaning the other one must be him.

Jacaera was right, he is tall. She had never pictured him with his hair long. Her sisters poured out of the car to stand alongside her.

Baela was the first to acknowledge it aloud. “Gods, I hardly recognize them.”

The slamming of the car doors must have carried, and he turned around from his mother to face the rest of them.

His hair swung gently, and she caught the moment his eye landed on her. His eyepatch looked menacing, scar tracing just outside of it. While holding her gaze, he upturned his lips into a tight smirk.

Their families approached each other, not too far away to begin with.

Aegon looked delighted to see his cousins, endearing them each. His face had filled out on the edges, and he hadn’t grown an inch. Aemond upheld his apathetic image, looking slightly uninterested, but they knew him better—-he simply always looked that way. Her sisters took turns pulling each of them into hugs with their greetings.

When Aemond reached her, he regarded her for several moments, his dark smile returning. “You’ve changed, Luce.”

She straightened her back, ignoring the way he was openly sliding his eye across her from head to toe. “So have you.”

He surprised her by pulling her deep in his chest, bending his neck down to whisper in her ear. “I haven’t forgotten our little games.” Before she could respond, he released her.

Baela had witnessed the interaction from a few paces away, her eyes still on Aemond, who had gone to greet Rhaenyra. Lucera walked up to her.

She fell into step beside Baela, through the doors, tickets in hand. “What did he say to you?”

Back and forth, she contemplated telling her the truth. Through her childhood, she had never been fully honest through the extent to which he hurt her. Rhaenyra had questioned, Daemon had asked, and her sisters had pushed after her wellbeing once the accidents had been exposed as something more purposeful. Lucera knew her parents were smarter than she, but they also didn’t push the subject when she refused to yield.

She didn’t quite know why, though she supposed it was because she felt she owed Aemond her pain. It was the least she could do for taking his sight. He hadn’t permanently damaged her, afterall. Even though he got close, she reminded herself.

Her mind completed its process, and Lucera would continue her pattern with conflict as she always had. “Just that we all look older now.”

“Hm.” She grabbed Lucera’s arm, looping it in hers, voice quieting. “He looks like a fucking super villian.”

Lucera couldn’t bite back her amusement. “He really does, doesn’t he?”

She didn’t want to think about what else he looked like. Attractive, for one. It felt like a sin to even say it in her mind. Lucera was startled by how menacing he looked, but it suited him. His face was lined in hardness and brutality, his lone purple eye allowing for expression.

His walk bled dominance, something she could do without recognizing. But it was hard to ignore the complex grace in his movements, how every turn of his head and lift of his hand was controlled and measured.

Her eyes kept finding him unwillingly, absorbing the man he had become. Lucera couldn’t help herself, needing to remind herself to keep her gaze anywhere but him. He would notice. Baela would notice. Daemon would notice.

After getting their tickets scanned, she and Baela followed their entourage to their seats. The gilded plasterwork came alive from the walls, creating deep shadows, brightening the jewel tones that sat there. The lattice work was interladened with cherubs holding glowing sconces and foliated candelabras. Figurative and floral murals and abstracts curled and jumped from the ceilings, each framed by golden trim. The proscenium arch jutted out gently from the stage, red curtain dropped to hide the rest of the stage.

Their seats were hoisted on the second floor in the box on stage right. Lucera smiled to herself. She knew whoever had bought their tickets did so knowing that the best view would be from above, so they could see the aerial perspective of the dancer’s intricate formations. If she had to guess, it was probably Alicent.

She had sat in the first row of seats, between Jacaera and Baela, while he sat in the second, off to the side, closer to the stage. The curvature of the seats allowed for her to see him out of the corner of her eye, his side profile unmistakable. As she gauged where he was in relation to her, he caught her eye. He brazenly smirked towards her, and then looked away. She ran her fingers over the front of her dress, needing the movement to keep her grounded. Shortly after, the curtains opened and she breathed relief at the comfort that she would have something else to focus on.

It wasn’t as easy as she had hoped.

As they progressed through the suites, Lucera was trying to tame her gaze, pulling and forcing it to remain ahead on anything but him. There was so much to look at, too—the dancer’s tutus and tights, skin and hair was alight with glitter catching every ray of stage light. The way they moved, their arms pouring up and down, their legs fluttering across the stage. Glissade en arriere to arabesque. The live orchestra in the pit, the sliding of their bows, the dancing of their fingers. She had so much to choose from. And it worked for a time, until she remembered his presence, and she had to pull her gaze forward again.

He caught her once or twice, and returned her wandering eyes with the same haughty smile.

She didn’t know if it should scare her, but it definitely made her feel something. Like she wanted to push the button to reveal a secret. Perhaps it was curiosity; she was a woman now, and can’t possibly be pushed around like she used to. He wouldn’t kill her. Not now at least. It would have had to happen years ago, when he was still a child and could get away with “accidental” murder. At present, he’d go to prison for manslaughter. Right? He has to know that. And he himself is a man grown, who has risen above such ideas. Right?

The curtains were drawn, they stood from their seats, her family quickly ushering everyone to get back to the house as fast as possible.

Once alone in the comforts of her bedroom, she unzipped, unlaced, and undid every button and tie on her clothing, releasing more than just the tension it had held on her skin. The whirlwind of their evening had finally come to an end. She had seen him, and it had been somewhat eventful, but she had expected nothing less.

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

The next morning after an uneventful breakfast, Viserys had called all of his grandchildren to the kitchens. He ensured they knew their presence was mandatory.

“You kids haven’t seen each other in so long. It’s time you bond again.” It was hard to tell what the room-wide cringe was from: being called kids, or being told they must bond over something of Viserys’ choosing.

Lucera looked around the massive kitchen, and knew immediately what they were going to be doing.

Viserys waved his hand. “I dismissed the staff early today. Instead, you all are going to be making our family’s holiday cookies!”

Joanie squealed in excitement, diverting the attention away from Aemond and Aegon, who both rolled their eyes louder than she’d ever seen it done.

“Why not. I love baking!” Rhaena perked.

Viserys stepped out to be more directly in front of them, looking at each of them intently. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Aegon and Jacaera, you two will do our peanut butter kisses. Aemond and Lucera, I want you two doing our sugar cut-outs. Daeron and Joanie, you two are in charge of snowballs. Rhaena, Helaena, and Baela, you three will do our gingerbread cookies. You’ll need the extra person since they’re a lot of work.” He gestured towards the back wall. “I’ve had the cooks set out all the ingredients, and there should be plenty of room for all of you.”

Lucera didn’t know quite what to do. Her intimidation of him was preventing her from moving her feet. Let alone, she didn’t know if Aemond hated this idea, and she didn’t want to feel his rejection. But then again, very little sounded better than fresh cookies.

Joanie and Daeron had practically run across the kitchen, as if it was a race to see who could finish the fastest. Lucera smiled at her youthful enthusiasm.

“Are you going to just stand there and look dumb?” Aemond’s voice cut through her thoughts.

She looked up at him. “No, no of course.”

“Of course you’re going to stand there and look dumb?”

Lucera grumbled. “You know what I meant.”

They walked over to the corner of the kitchen. Lucera knew this recipe by heart, having made it many times the past several years at Dragonstone.

“We need to work the butter, first. Cream it up a bit.”

She began unfolding the wax off of the butter.

“They’re quite simple. I don’t know why he wants the two of us to do it. A child could make these by themselves.”

Lucera took the flat end of the spatula and smashed the butter into smaller pieces in the bowl. “You know why he wants us to do it together.”

Aemond pulled out the bag of flour, dipping the cup deep in the bag. “I suppose. Funny thing for him to act like he cares so much about bonding time.” He swiped a knife off of the top of the measuring cup. “So this is what bonding looks like?”

Lucera scoffed. “It could be, if you actually acted like you wanted to be here.”

Across the kitchen, she could hear Jacaera scolding Aegon over the bag of hershey’s kisses. “You do realize we need some of those to actually make the cookies? Save some for the rest of us.”

Aemond paused, mulling over his next words carefully. “I could be doing something else.”

Lucera looked over at Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena, who were giggling over the molasses and brown sugar.

“And what might that be?” She questioned mockingly. While he poured in the sugar and flour, she began mixing in the butter.

“Working.” He turned to face her, dipping his head to look down at her from their close proximity. Sarcasm sat between his next words. “Ever heard of it?”

Lucera was slightly ruffled by this, and even though she caught on to his tone, wasn’t willing to go along with the act. “You don’t know the slightest thing about me.”

He stood behind her to grab something on the other side, and whether it was for stability or otherwise, he put his hand on her waist. She tried not to make any sudden movements to imply she was thrown off or affected by this gesture, and could not say if she was successful or not. His hand was large, fingers stretching across the right side of her lower back. Just breathe. She tried to tamper down her blush, not wanting him to know that he flustered her. It would only make her more of a target.

“Twas just a joke, Lucie.” He smirked, pulling away, and warping his fingers to the newly formed dough in the bowl.

She tried not to watch the way his deft hands worked the dough into a ball. Needing to prove she was not in fact bothered, she replied, “Regardless, I will have you know that I’m in the line of succession. Me, Jacaera, and Baela are all going to uphold Targaryen International Banking after Rhaenyra and Daemon.”

To her surprise, Aemond showed her possibly the first form of respect she had ever received from him. “It’s an honor to not only be a part of our family, but also uphold its greatness.”

Lucera pulled out the various cookie cutters, clearing her throat. They had been apart all this time, their secret torture games known truly just between them. She knew she should hate him, but she didn’t. And the unfortunate circumstances had decided that he must grow into a desirable devil. But she can’t think about that right now. Looking at her cookie shape options, she decided her favorite was the Christmas tree. “I heard you’re inheriting Hightower Associates.”

He smiled, and even though it was tight lipped, she could tell it meant something to him. “Yes. Otto most likely has another decade in him to run it, but it will be mine once he is no longer fit for it. Thank the gods, Aegon and Helaena would destroy it.”

Lucera looked over at her sister and Aegon. He looked at her with light in his eyes, while she double checked each dough ball to ensure they were the same size. As nice as the scene was, his momentary calm was deceiving. She laughed quietly in her throat imagining him being put in charge.

Their own dough had been rolled out, and they began stamping it with the cookie cutter. “I’m sure you will do the business much good. You can be…” Lucera looked for the right words, and wondered if it was even a good idea to remind him of his nature in the first place. “Quite intense. And cutthroat.”

He paused at her implicit acknowledgement of the past, looking at her directly once again. His chest was at her eye level, even though she pried her eyes upwards to meet his. The soap on his neck had a clean, sharp scent. “Yes. I suppose I haven’t changed much.” He waited for any kind of reaction, but she figured it best to not give him any. Lest he get any real ideas.

Lucera slid the cookies into the oven, the warmth heating up her arms. She vaguely recalled when Aemond had tried to shut her arms in the frame of the oven, and startled herself with his proximity.

He noticed her pulling away from the oven with fear in her eyes. “Relax. My days of trying to scar you are over.” Aemond poured a small stream of milk over the powdered sugar on the stove. “Besides, my hands are busy. And there’s people here.”

It wasn’t until she finished sliding the tray in the oven and closed the door that she processed his meaning.

She looked up at him, eyes widened. “You’re not going to…?” Lucera didn’t say it out loud, for she didn’t want anyone else to hear.

He continued stirring, the smell of the heated sugar between them. “We’re both adults now. I wouldn’t be so senseless.”

The tension she had been holding around him had faded, filled in with relief. “I don’t know why,” she chuckled, “I just didn’t know what to expect.”

His side-eye landed on her, but he was playing lighthearted. “You wound me Lucera. Surely I would hope you think higher of me than that.”

“Hm.” She smirked at him, wanting to joke with him as he had to her. “You’ll just have to prove how smart you are then.”

His face held an unreadable expression, but she still counted anything besides scowling as progress.

The butter, sugar, and flour were melding together in the oven, releasing a heavenly smell. Lucera released some of the tension she had held around him. Perhaps this new chapter of their lives could strengthen their family, instead of tearing it apart as their childhood had.

Reading the golden edges of the cookies, Lucera determined they were finished and removed them out of the oven without fear of Aemond shutting her arm in. The royal icing was ready, and she put them in the refrigerator so the cookies were able to cool before they could put the icing on.

A large guffaw of laughter exploded from the other side of the kitchen, where Joanie and Daeron were saddled with powdered sugar. It had lodged itself in the creases of their faces, deepening their smile lines. In their attempt to brush it off their faces, they only served to spread the sugary dust to every surface in their vicinity.

Daeron, upon realizing the blessing this was, ran to Aegon with his snowy sugared hands and started furiously wiping them on the back of Aegon’s sweater.

Having been attacked by the enemy in a blind spot, Aegon was initially at the disadvantage. But, once he turned around, he used his height and weight to throw Daeron to the ground.

This move might have deterred many from another attack, but Daeron was a Targaryen, afterall. He grabbed onto Aegon’s leg, not letting go. It was an advanced move, leaving the victim—Aegon—unable to do much else than furiously try to peel him away.

Joanie made a jump to his other leg despite Aegon’s protests for her to not get involved. The two clung to his calves, anchoring him to the floor, giggling in victory. Aegon ceased his complaining and sighed in defeat.

“Anyone want to help me?” Aegon moaned.

Jacaera was busy pressing what was left of the hershey’s kisses into the cookies. She shrugged. “I can’t, I have to do this while they’re fresh out of the oven.” Besides, she was too amused by the situation.

“Sorry, I don’t want to get powdered sugar all over my new pants.” Baela shouted from across the kitchen.

Aemond was also pleased by his brothers, and after hesitating a few moments too long, began long strides towards the scene.

He had nearly reached Aegon, but once Daeron had peeked his head around Aegon’s knee to see the long legs of his other brother coming towards them, he flung himself off of Aegon and skittered across the floor. Joanie was quick to follow.

Once the cookies were all primed and pretty—to the best of their ability, at least—Lucera padded up the steps with a giggling Jacaera. In the parlor, Rhaenyra was drinking tea with Alicent. They must have heard of Viserys’ plan, as they looked at Lucera with concern, subtly checking over her limbs and face for any signs of harm as they had done when she was younger.

Alicent leaned over with furrowed brows and express interest, Rhaenyra had worry in her eyes. “How was baking my darlings?”

Knowing that they truly wished to know of her wellbeing, Lucera was relieved that for once around the holidays, she could tell them the truth. “It was good! No unlucky burns or anything! Just tasty cookies.”

They brought a plate over with all of their treats.

Rhaenyra beamed at her daughters. “I see gingerbreads, sugar cut-outs, and—?”

Jacaera leaned forward. “Peanut butter kisses. Aegon ate half of the hershey’s chocolates, so we didn’t have enough to put on top of all of them. Those ones are just plain peanut butter cookies.”

Alicent rolled her eyes through her smile, lovingly joking. “Of course he did, the little twat. I’m sure they’re still delicious.”

“Once he stopped eating the candy and started participating, he really enjoyed baking. Does he ever go down to the kitchens to bake?”

Lucera raised her eyebrows. She knew exactly what made Aegon so interested in baking earlier, and it wasn’t the sweets.

“He’s never thought it interesting before. Perhaps he was just happy to see everyone.” Alicent had toned down her surprise at the idea that he enjoyed the experience, having a mother’s sense of what was really at play. Her and Lucera shared a knowing glance, Jacaera none the wiser.

“And you Lucera?” Alicent had turned to face her.

“Oh yes! Aemond and I got along quite well. He’s an arse, but it suits him.” The sense of relief she glimpsed earlier had returned, and the weight of lying no longer chained to her. She was able to be genuine without having to pretend. It was a welcome feeling.

“He’s a proud man, that’s for sure. I still don’t know where he inherited his arrogance.” Alicent chimed.

Rhaenyra was put at ease with the grace of her features, always knowing the truth of her daughter. A shadow of skepticism remained, but she was optimistic that their maturation had changed things. “I’m glad you had a good time, darling.”

At least for the time being, any fears she had could be put to rest.

It had been a hard period of time when she had lied to her, both of them knowing that there was something much deeper to her words. It had been why, without too much evidence, Rhaenyra had decided it best that they spend a few holidays alone at Dragonstone. Viserys had insisted that they return each year, believing that it best for the family to be together when there was tension. Namely, after the accident where Aemond lost his eye, and his consequent aggression towards Lucera. Rhaenyra could only look at the truth in her daughter’s eyes for so long.

He hadn’t done anything out in the open, but he was occasionally sloppy. He was only a child after all, and was still learning how to keep a victim silent. He was lucky it was Lucera, who in her docility and self-blaming from the accident, let him act as he saw fit.

Her least favorite memory was when he held her head over the tub in the basement filled with water. He had grabbed her hair and held her face under water, keeping it there until her squirms softened to near limpness. He would then pull her up again, allowing for her to catch her breath before repeating the cycle. She had silently trusted him to let her live. It didn’t make the moments she spent choked underwater any less terrifying.

That had been the last time she saw him. Rhaenyra had remembered her coming up the stairs, face flushed, edges of her hair wet. Lucera recalled telling her that she slipped and fell in the snow outside, but her eyes had given her away. Even after much pressure, Rhaenyra still wasn’t sure what had happened, but she knew Aemond was involved and that Lucera looked like she had been through a torture sequence. Which, of course, she had.

But those days were behind them. He had said it himself.

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

Later in the evening, after a light dinner, a particularly competitive game of Scrabble that nearly ended with Daemon’s knife at Aemond’s throat, and a Hallmark movie that Viserys claimed would “calm everyone down” (which it hadn’t—not entirely—although the two had slowly united across the one hour and thirty five minute screen time against their hatred for such movies), the family had dispersed and found their ways to bed.

Lucera was tucked in, nearly drowning in the comforter, just how she liked it. There was just one thing—she needed water. Her eyes had closed, her body tired and unwilling to go downstairs. But her throat was scratching for relief, and no amount of willing herself to sleep had changed it.

She skimpered down the steps, her long fuzzy socks lightening the blow of her feet. All of the lights had been turned off, and she relied on the underlights of the cabinets to light her way.

Under the fridge light, she filled up her cup.

The silence was broken by the stream coming from the fridge, and then by footsteps coming near. Lucera tried to cover up what little she could, as a simple t-shirt and underwear had been all she needed in the privacy of her room. She hoped whoever it was wouldn’t look too closely or scold her for being so indecent.

She would be gone in a moment anyway.

Putting her water glass in the sink, she turned to go down the hallway when she saw the illumination of platinum hair in the dark.

“Aemond.” And even though she whispered, the surprise was not lacking in her voice.

“Lucera. It’s getting late.” He was stepping closer to her, his voice soft.

“I was just a bit thirsty. I’m going back to bed now.” She tried to step around him, but he blocked her way with his arm against the wall.

“You know, before I saw you I wondered if I’d continue our little games.” He glazed his eye over her near-nakedness. “I thought I might not. And then I saw you, this pretty little thing, and I realized that we can have so much more fun together.”

She knew what he meant by it, but tried to ignore it for the moment. “But I thought you said you wouldn’t—”

“I said I wouldn’t scar you. I never said I wouldn’t do other things.” He grabbed a lock of her hair, twisting it between his fingers. “Oh how you’ve grown, Lucera.”

She tried to grab at the wrist of his hand in her hair, but he only grabbed onto her wrists instead, pushing her backwards towards a door in the hallway. He fumbled with the knob before throwing her in, the force of it landing her on the floor.

Lucera pulled her hair out of her face and stood up. “You didn’t need to be so rough with me.”

He grabbed her chin domineeringly soft. “Look at me, Lucera.”

Her lip quivered and she looked up at him, her large doe eyes unable to prevent her from looking nothing but innocent.

He looked deep in her eyes, commanding her submission with nothing but a look. “You always let me torture you, sweet little thing.”

All breath in her body halted, every movement, every beat of blood. The silence around her grew louder, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

“But now I want to do other things to you. I’m still using your body, of course, just in a different way. And you’re still going to listen to me, just like you always have?” Aemond tilted her jaw upwards to the right, then moved it to the left, as if he was examining her face from every angle.

The blood moving through her veins got thicker, her heart quickening its pace. Lucera quietly admitted to herself that she was excited at the idea that he could want her that way. Did he really think her attractive enough to want? He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. Did he? Surely he didn’t want her like that.

He sneered in her face, clearly finding her dumbfoundedness amusing. “Look at you. Big eyes just looking up at me, waiting for validation. I knew you’d do anything I’d ask. Hells, you’ll probably enjoy it too.”

Lucera didn’t know how he had such a hold on her. How could he get away with talking to her like this? Why did she let him? Why was her belly aching with heat? She could feel her arousal dripping along her slit, sitting warm in her panties.

She pulled every last string of dignity together and tightened her hold to say, “No, Aemond. You’re not allowed to treat me this way.” and tried her hardest to turn away from him.

But, he was quick to react, and immediately pulled her backside flush against him, arms locked across her neck and midsection. “Squirm all you want. I see how your eyes hold nothing but submission for me, they always have. Is it guilt? Or something else?” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “I don’t believe you wouldn’t enjoy every last drop of anything I give you. I’ll prove it to you right now.”

He moved his hand knowingly across her hip bones, giving them a hearty squeeze before sliding his fingers down her thigh to hike up her skirt. Her panic was felt immediately as she put her back and shoulders into every push and shove she gave him. “No, no no no, don’t—”

“Why? Are you worried about what I’ll find?” She wasn’t able to break out of the cage that was his strength, and his fingers gently trailed across the thin fabric hiding her entrance. What little barrier she had did a poor job of concealing her heated wetness.

He began lightly circling her clit, bending his face into her neck. “Tsk tsk tsk. Just as I thought, Lucie.”

She whimpered. “I just, I just am confused.”

“Hmm? I don’t think your body is confused. Your body wants me, Lucie. It wants me inside you. It’s all soaking and ready to take me.”

“You’re just so mean to me. I can’t let you do this if you’re mean to me.”

Aemond chuckled, feeling her melt into his touch as his deft fingers pleasured her. “You’ve always been so good at letting me take out my frustrations on you. This is no different, Lucie.”

She whimpered in his arms, unable to control the profound pleasure he was thrusting upon her. And it was him. There was something so enrapturing about his presence. She wanted to be engulfed in it, to feed off of it. But he had too much power—it wasn’t fair, he had always had the upper hand.

He slipped his fingers underneath the constraints of her underwear, immediately finding her slick folds. He gathered some of the wetness he found there and brought it up to her clit, where he rubbed gentle circles against her. “You’re soaking for me Lucie. I want to hear you submit to me. Your body is begging you.”

She whimpered again. The pleasure was too great, his weight pressed against her from all sides. Lucera needed more. Her resolve and rationality were slipping, disintegrating into a state of utter obedience, the teasing becoming too much to bear. It was like he was drowning her again.

“Anything, I’ll do anything, Aemond. I need this,” her voice squeaked from under his arm.

He laughed darkly in her ear before licking it, the warm sensation filling out through the rest of her body. “You will listen and do as I say, yes?”

“Yes. I swear it.” She cried.

“Good. On your knees, sweet girl.”

Her eyes got even bigger as she received his command. Lucera hesitated, looking up at him in his utter assertiveness. The look in his eye alone made her knees buckle.

Softly finding the most comfortable position she could on her knees, she tilted up her chin, attempting to hold as much dignity as possible. He grabbed both of her cheeks with each hand, fat pudging out between his thumbs and forefingers.

“You’re going to swallow my cock, do you understand? And when I decide I want to fuck your throat, I will.” He moved his right thumb down to her chin. “And if you bite, we can play one of our old games.”

She wouldn’t have bit him, but she was old enough to realize he got off on the power he had over her. And yet, she didn’t have to fake her submission. It was real, and it soaked her through.

With that, he let go of her face and gave her a playful slap on the cheek.

His hands remained at his sides, and she took that to mean that she must be the one to remove his pants.

Lucera tried to conceal the hesitation to approach his cock, but she couldn’t help herself. The bulge reaching across his leg was considerable, and she was unsure about trying to stuff something so large in her throat.

When she finally collected the courage to pull down the flannel in her fingertips, she was truly faced with the reality of such an act.

He was beautiful. Of course, even his cock has to be perfect. She took her hand, and worked the warm skin up and down, twisting her palm ever so slightly.

“Suck.” He said bluntly. 

“I’ll try, but I don’t know how I’m going to—”

“If you can’t figure it out, I think pounding your throat will do the trick.” He interjected, his hand landing in her hair firmly.

This drove her to action, as she wanted to maintain as much control in the situation as possible. She pushed the head past her lips, his salty precum landing on her tongue. Her jaw expanded as much as it could, and she pushed herself to swallow his length.

Lucera could already feel the sides of her mouth being triggered to wetness by the intrusion, and she was thankful for it. She held onto the base to steady herself, and she began slowly moving back and forth, lathing her tongue on the bottom of his cock.

She could feel his hands shift in her hair as he played with it gently, combing his fingers through.

“You’re such a good girl, Lucera”

His voice felt like pure encouragement, and his validation was something she had never felt before. Lucera decided she liked that feeling.

She pushed herself deeper on him as her throat warmed up, but was still unable to fit it all. She tried using her hand to make up for what she couldn’t reach, and although she wished she could deep throat him, she was proud that she had made it this far.

He grabbed her hair a bit more assertively, and guided her up and down with a touch more of force. “You’re taking it so well, your throat wraps around me perfectly.”

Her eyes had begun to slightly water, but she still tried to connect their eyes. She had read in a magazine that boys liked that.

He began to move her head even more strongly, and pushed her throat further on his cock. She gagged, but he only moaned in his chest, the sensation squeezing his cock in her throat.

Lucera could hardly see, her tears clouding her vision. Her saliva gathered around her lips and slopped down her chin as she felt him push deep into her throat.

“Look at you, on your knees for me. This is where you belong.” He thrust into her mouth, holding her by the back of her head. As rough as he was, Lucera found that she just wanted to impress him. To show him that she wasn’t weak, and that she was capable.

“Fuck, Lucera.” He moaned above her, his breath deepening. With animalistic impulse, he worked her throat with lewd hunger, before pulling her as hard as he could towards his hips.

She knew what was about to happen, and although she was still choking on his cock, braced herself. Lucera felt his length throb in her mouth as he unloaded down her gullet and straight to her belly.

Having ceased his brutal thrusts, Aemond brushed her hair gently. “Swallow all of it, Lucie.”

She subconsciously tried to swallow around it, but it was difficult to move much of anything.

After holding her there for a few more moments, he released her. She stuttered backwards slightly, coughing and gulping for air.

He tucked himself back beneath his waistband, and bent down next to her. He took her shirt and wiped off the excess spit that had gathered around her chin, and then moved it up to wipe her eyes.

“You’re gorgeous on your knees, you know that?” His hand dragged languidly against her inner thigh, towards her underwear. She inhaled deeply at his movements, canting her hips to meet his hand.

“You’re so needy, aren’t you?” He tilted his head, looking down at her below him devilishly. “My cock down your throat only made you more soaked, hmm?”

His words burned into her pleasure, and Lucera couldn’t help but whimper. His fingers on her moved in light circles on her clit, warping the pleasure building inside her.

“Tell me how it felt in your throat.” His voice poured over her. She drank in each syllable of every lewd word spitting out of his mouth like ambrosia. 

“You felt heavy on my tongue,” Lucera said, her breathing erratic. “I didn’t know how I was going to take it.”

“Hmm, that’s right.” He drawled. “It’s not easy taking a thick down your throat is it?”

“N-no.” She mewled.

“But you did a good job,” he brushed his thumb above her stomach. “You didn’t miss a drop.”

She panted as he loomed above her, playing her body like an instrument. She had already been so worked up, so much ache already inside her, that she knew her orgasm was coming. Aemond must have noticed too, for he picked up his pacing to the exact tempo she needed.

“Cum on my fingers, Lucie.”

She didn’t need anything further than his voice to send her over the edge as her eyes rolled back in her head, orgasmic pleasure bursting deep in her belly. She did her best to hold back the amplitude of the cries in her throat lest someone hear her.

The euphoria rippled through her body, and she could feel his satisfaction at her pleasure. After a few more moments, the lingering contentment was joined by a new wave of drowsiness.

It was late.

Lucera opened her eyes. Aemond stood up, pulling her up with him.

“Sleep well, Lucie.” He opened the door, gave her a quick slap on her ass, and walked towards the kitchen.

Her haze carried her to bed, where she unceremoniously slung herself under the covers, half-unconscious already. 

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x lucera velaryon #aemond targaryen x female!Lucerys Velaryon #smut #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen x Fem!Lucerys #aemond targaryen fanfic

[juniperskye]

I Almost do

Sneak Peek: Song Fic using “I Almost Do” by Taylor Swift.  Aaron and you had broken up some time ago but, after months alone, you’re beginning to wonder if that was a mistake. There's a flashback as well as thoughts and feelings over your relationship with Aaron, as you reflect on the way things were.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Angst

Word count: 2129

Warnings: No use of y/n, Implied age gap, mention of food and eating, mention of your past relationship, mention of an unhealthy relationship, brief mention of Haley, no mention of Jack, mention of canon typical case work, reader struggles emotionally throughout the fic. Let me know if I missed any others.

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

1:00 am, it was one in the morning, and you couldn’t sleep. You thought about what you used to do when you couldn’t sleep and that had you reaching for your phone. Scrolling through your texts, your thumb ghosted over his name. The last text having been from him, a simple “I miss you”. That was 2 weeks ago.

Aaron and you had broken things off about five months ago now. This had been the longest five months of your life. The breakup had kind of been mutual, you both had just come to the realization that things weren’t working anymore. You sat there thinking about that night:

**You were sitting in your bed, movie long forgotten, checking your phone for the hundredth time. Still nothing. No texts or calls to inform you of Aaron’s return. A tear had made its way down your cheek and dripped off your jaw onto the screen of your phone. When did you even start crying? Why were you crying? Things had been like this for the last two months; Aaron would get called away on a case and leave while you were sat at home to continue on with work like everything is normal. And while that may seem like it would be your normal, things had shifted two months ago. Aaron used to call, text and even facetime you when he could while on a case, but those things started to dwindle down to nothing. Which brings you back to tonight, it had been six days since you had heard from Aaron, he could be dead for all you know. But you do know thanks to Penelope, she had a habit of texting the respective partners to inform them of the teams’ safe arrivals and returns. You decided that enough was enough, you needed to go and talk to him – it couldn’t wait any longer.

 Aaron and you didn’t even argue, there was no yelling, no accusations, no throwing of things, nothing. The two of you spoke about how your communication had disintegrated and you rarely saw one another. Aaron explained that it was his job and there wasn’t a whole lot he could do, he apologized for the lack of texts but clarified that his job was very important and that it was his priority when he was away. How could you be mad at that, he was right, his job was very important. Which is exactly what you told him. You let him know that you understood the importance of his job but that you were having a hard time being with someone who wasn’t present. There was a silence and a knowing look before you both stood, exchanged a hug and a final kiss and nodded at one another. As you went to leave, you turned around and told Aaron that you would always love him and that you were sorry that you couldn’t handle his job. To which he shook his head and replied that he loved you too and he was sorry that his job was as time-consuming as it was. He walked over and sat in his favorite chair, the one that you had dragged over by the window on a rainy day to read in, the one that he never moved back, and that’s when you left.**

I bet this time of night you're still up I bet you're tired from a long hard week I bet you’re sittin’ in your chair by the window Looking out at the city and I bet Sometimes you wonder about me

Thinking about your breakup had you wondering about Aaron. Was he awake right now? Had he just gotten back from a case? Had he moved the chair back, or was it still by the window? Was he thinking about you? You locked your phone and tossed it on your bed, heading into the kitchen to make some tea. You stood there in a trance still battling with yourself on if you should just give up and call him. A quiet “ding” had you snapping out of your thoughts and racing to your room. Had he felt it too? Was he thinking about you?

The “ding” had that you had desperately hoped was Aaron reaching back out ended up being a notification from Gopuff, letting you know they had some late-night deals on ben and jerry’s ice cream. Your heart sunk, maybe you should just call him. You scrolled through your contacts and stopped at his name, you shook your head at yourself, it wasn’t a good idea. But how easy would it be to just click his name and call him, tell him how much you missed him and that it has been so incredibly hard to ignore his messages – but at the time you had thought it was the right thing to do. You wanted to tell him that you still loved him and that you wanted to be with him. You were going out of your mind trying to navigate these thoughts on your own. You needed to talk to him…

And I just want to tell you It takes everything in me Not to call you And I wish I could run to you And I hope you know that Every time I don't, I almost do I almost do

It took everything in you, but ultimately you decided not to call him. You continued scrolling through your contacts and clicked Penelope’s name, she and you had remained friends despite your breakup with Aaron, she had been your shoulder to cry on when you questioned whether or not you had made the right choice. She remained neutral and supported you.

She answered on the third ring, you apologized for waking her up but quickly explained that you needed her. Penelope listened to you as you explained how you had been feeling. That you had wanted so badly to call Aaron and try again. Penelope had expressed a little bit of shock at your confession. She explained to you that there had been a rumor amongst the team that Aaron was convinced that you were officially done with him.

You were quick to dispel this and went on a long rant about how he had reached out and you couldn’t bring yourself to reply because if he wasn’t 100% in then you’d be crushed all over again and that wasn’t a risk you could take given the current state of your heart. You had asked Penelope to elaborate, and she had simply explained that JJ may have overheard Aaron talking to Dave about having texted you and not hearing back, so he figured you were done with him. This only broke your heart more. You had been in hysterics, telling Penelope that you had been a mess over all this for the last month or so. You had thought you had moved on, but there was a part of you that was hung up on Aaron.

I bet you think I either moved on or hate you Cause each time you reach out, there's no reply I bet it never, ever occurred to you That I can't say hello to you and risk another goodbye

Getting off the phone with Penelope left you shocked; how could he think that you had moved on? You had done nothing but put all of your energy into every other aspect of your life to try and keep your mind off of the Aaron sized hole in your heart. Maybe ending things had been a mistake, maybe the two of you just needed to put more effort into your communication and maybe you were simply being too codependent, needing him around all the time.

You knew what you had signed up for when getting into a relationship with him. You knew that his work had been the downfall of him and his ex-wife, you had told him that you would be different, that his work wouldn’t drive you away. You had broken that promise…his work had driven you away as well. But was it his job? Was it the fact that he had stopped putting in any effort to talk to you while away? Was it that even when he was here, he wasn’t really present? You were overanalyzing every aspect of your relationship because you needed to pinpoint where it all went wrong. What you really needed was to sleep and sort this all out once you had rested and had time to process all these emotions running through your brain.

Oh, we made quite a mess, babe It's probably better off this way And I confess, baby In my dreams you're touching my face And asking me if I’d want to try again with you And I almost do

Your alarm had you jolting awake, disappointment immediately settling in your gut. It hadn’t been real, Aaron hadn’t been there reaching for you, his hand gently resting on your jaw, looking into your eyes, telling you that it had all been a mistake. He said he wanted to try again. Only he hadn’t said that, your dream version of him had said that. You thought that rest was going to give your mind a chance to clear up, only now you were more confused than before. Your subconscious brain had brought you back to Aaron, but you still weren’t sure if that was a wise decision. You had the past five months to be on your own and process these feelings and truly become yourself again, would it benefit you to turn back and try again? You got yourself ready to go to work and figured you could come back to these thoughts later.

It was late when you were finally heading home after work. You were exhausted both emotionally and physically. You were driving mindlessly, deciding that it would be good to stop and get something to eat. You hadn’t been able to stomach the thought of food on your break, but now your stomach was growling, and you couldn’t neglect it any longer. Driving through the closest place, you thought about all the times Aaron would come home late with food for you both, knowing that you’d have forgotten to eat, too busy with work and then too tired to cook once you got home. You weren’t sure what to do really, your mind and heart were working against each other and the friends you had spoken to had all said the same thing “you need to do what is best for you”. Things with Aaron had been so amazing in the beginning, and you tried to pinpoint where things went wrong but you couldn’t. At some point it just stopped being amazing. You thought of him again, wondering if he had been thinking about you since that last text.

I bet this time of night you're still up I bet you're tired from a long hard week I bet you're sittin’ in your chair by the window Looking out at the city and I hope Sometimes you wonder about me

Aaron had been driving home, it seemed like he had hit every single red light, his typical 13-minute drive becoming nearly 25 minutes. He was almost home when he hit yet another red light, he huffed out a sigh and looked down to check the time – 10:47 p.m. The team had just returned from a case, and he couldn’t wait to go to sleep. He glanced around and had to do a double take at the vehicle to his left. There you were, you were eating French fries and singing to whatever song was playing through your stereo. He sat there, willing you to look his way, even for just a moment. He thought that maybe if you saw him then it would spark something in you to return his messages, maybe you could meet up for coffee and agree that this breakup was a huge mistake and that you could try again. Only, you didn’t look his way. The light turned and so did you, heading left down the main road the led to your place. The car behind him honked signaling him to go. He made the rest of the drive home in a haze – clouded by images of you. He picked up his phone and typed out a short message…

Aaron: I can’t stop thinking about you.

Aaron was ready to surrender all hope and go to bed when the three little dots appeared. He was anxious to see what you’d reply, but glad that you’d actually return his message this time around. He was quick to check his phone when it alerted him to a new message. A small smile broke out on his face when he read your reply…

Should I write a part 2?

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[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 8

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC A/N: Wasn't going to double post today but I'm feeling generous with it being Valentines Day. Sadly nothing super romantic about this one, but I promise some really good stuff is coming soon! I also have a few more one shots, but my requests are open if you have any more you guys want to send through! The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

The rotunda is empty as Imogen and I enter. Everyone in the dining hall eating. The feeling of being alone should unsettle me given recent circumstances, but after today I feel like that’s behind us.

Usually I would feel her eyes on me, but as she approached me in the hall I had no idea. Though I had been a little distracted at the lack of Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi at dinner.

She leads me over to the edge of the rotunda, and sits on the ledge, leaning up against one of the pillars. I copy her on the opposite side. For a few moments we sit in silence, looking out over the trees and mountains. It’s beautiful under the moonlight. In the distance I occasionally see dragons flying around. I wonder if one of them will be mine come threshing.

“I’d say I’m sorry for how I’ve acted towards you and what I did today. But I’m won’t. It’s just my weird way of processing this I guess.” She finally says, still looking out over the trees. “But, I can’t assure you it won’t happen again.”

I slowly nod my head. “Thanks, I guess.”

She looks over at me as if confused by my response.

“Not going to lie I was expecting a different response out of you regarding this. Also kind of surprised Garrick isn’t attached to your hip after what I did.”

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lips. “Yeah well I kinda ran off after he told me he had feelings for me and I haven’t seen him since.”

She narrows her eyes at me and the look she gives me is like she thinks I’m crazy. Which honestly, I definitely am.

“You ran off?” She emphasises each words.

“Yeah.” I lean my head back on the pillar and sigh. I was such an idiot. “I ran off. Like an idiot. And now he’s nowhere to be seen.”

She shakes her head and laughs at me. “Well if it’s any help, I don’t think you haven’t seen him because of what happened. With Bodhi and Xaden also both gone, and from what I could see their dragons to, I think something’s come up.”

I nod. She’s right. In the last few weeks it had become almost normal for the boys to disappear some nights without much warning. But it still felt like it had to do with me. Maybe they went out to help Garrick clear his head. But if that was the case I’m sure either Xaden or Bodhi would have come to see how I was.

“I’m sure Garrick has told you are history and why I’ve been the way I’ve been?” She finally says after a few minutes of me swimming in my own thoughts.

“Yeah, only took me weeks of asking and then snapping at him in the healers quadrant before.” I tell her, earning a laugh out of her.

“I knew I’d like you. Even if I hate how much you have Garrick wrapped around your finger, I can see why.” She says with probably one of the first genuine smiles I’ve seen on her since I’ve been here. “And honestly I did this to myself. He always said he couldn’t give me more than something casual. That his heart lay elsewhere. He never said who, just that they were part of the rebellion casualties. And then you showed up.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any issues. Though was inevitable with everyone thinking I was dead for the last few years. Though I didn’t know Melgren’s plan till the night before conscription day.” I look away from her back out over the valley below us.

I catch the sad look that passes over her face as she studies me. “Don’t be sorry. You being back, as much as its annoyed me in one aspect, has been good the the guys. But can you promise me one thing?” She says as she stands.

I look over at her and nod.

”Don’t fuck it up. He deserves to be happy. And you definitely make him the happiest I’ve ever seen him.”

And with that, she turns and leaves me alone in the Rotunda with my thoughts.

Imogen’s words hang over my head. Don’t fuck it up. Easier said than done. Part of me is over joyed that Garrick shares the same feelings. Though looking back I’m an idiot for not seeing it sooner. I just put it down to us being best friends. Yes he wasn’t like that with Xaden, but I was a girl. Of course our friendship would naturally be a little different.

But part of me is also terrified. What if it goes badly? What if it puts a divide in the dynamic of our group. I couldn’t live with myself if I came between Xaden and Garrick. As much as Xaden is extremely loyal to Garrick, Xaden would pick me over him without a question. It would destroy him. But he would do it. And that’s not something I’d want him to do.

So I do the stupid thing and avoid them. Which sadly is quite easy with how little they are around. They’re in our daily battle brief class, wedged up in the back corner. I know cause I feel their eyes on me despite not turning around to see if they are there. But when it comes to challenges, their appearance is few and far between. And if they are there I do my best to blend into the crowd. As best as I can with my hair colour. Though I haven’t dyed it since arriving, and at nearly 2 months in my natural dark hair has started to shown through. Rhiannon and Violet keep telling me to let it grow out as it looks good with the dark red.

But outside of classes, I rarely see them. I get glimpses of them, but most nights they aren’t at dinner. Imogen makes comments about them being sent out for drills and such. Must be part of being a third year. Though I do notice they are gone more often than the other third years.

A few times Garrick tries to catch me after battle brief or find me at challenges, but somehow I manage to get away. I’m not quite ready to have the conversation he wants to have. But I can’t avoid it forever. A few times I nearly cave when I see the pained look in his hazel eyes. Pain I was causing. Pain I’d seen in Xaden and Bodhi’s eyes as well.

Soon our gym time turns into Gauntlet training with presentation day around the corner. So far our squad has done pretty well. Only one casualty so far. One I had to watch Violet almost be apart of. She hid it but I knew how much it killed her on the inside. She was yet to fully complete the gauntlet and today was our last day of training before presentation day tomorrow.

As we walk up the stairs to the gauntlet my heart drops. Not only is Xaden standing off to the side, Garrick is with him. It wasn’t uncommon for leadership to watch their squads do training on the gauntlet, so far neither had turned up for ours. Of course they show up on the last day.

Rhiannon who is next to me must notices something is off and follows my eyes to where Xaden and Garrick are.

“Why do you look so scared to see Xaden and Garrick?” She asks.

I hadn’t quite built the relationship with her that Violet had, but it was getting there. But I hadn’t told her about my interaction with Garrick after the challenge with Imogen.

“Remember how he took me to the healers after my fight with Imogen?” I whisper to her so the others around us don’t hear. The last thing I need is gossip spreading about this while I’m still figuring my own feelings out.

She nods. “Yeah I remember. Practically rushed over and scooped you up in his arms before you could get off the mat. Was quite romantic.” I roll my eyes at her.

Our group comes to a stop in front of the gauntlet, Xaden and Garrick making their way over with Emettiro. Both their eyes locked on mine.

I lean closer to her. “He might have confessed he’s essentially been in love with me for years and years despite me being dead and I kind of panicked and ran off and have been avoiding him ever since. Which also means avoiding my brother.”

She shakes her head and chuckles at me. “Girl I could have told you he was in love with you. No one looks at someone the way he does with out being in love.”

I go to reply but Emettiro calls us to start running the gauntlet. And I’m glad Rhiannon and I end up near the front, being one of the first ones to go. Though I doubt Xaden and Garrick are here to try talk to me, as much as they may want to. At the end of the day, they want the wing to do well.

I step up as Rhiannon takes off, my eyes meeting Garrick’s. His face is a mask and I can’t read it at all. I can tell he’s upset though. He’s never like that with me. I’m one of the few he never puts a mask up for. Xaden on the other hand is intently focused on Violet who is behind me. Before I take off up the gauntlet I offer Garrick a quick smile. For a brief second before I take off, his mask falters and his eyes soften as he gives me a tight lipped smile. The entire way up the I feel his eyes following me. He’s yet to see me climb it. And probably won’t tomorrow as most of the leadership wait up top for their squads and wings to pass the gauntlet.

I reach the top with ease. Yet again Melgren’s training had really prepared me for this. I’d barely had any issues getting up the gauntlet in the first day. And most times I caught up to or passed the person in front of me. As much as I didn’t want to think it. I was grateful for his training over the years. I turn around to look down the gauntlet to see both Garrick and briefly Xaden looking up at me. Both look happy with how easily I made it up. Xaden’s gaze drops to something below me. Violet is yet again stuck on the last parts of the gauntlet. And dare I say, does Xaden looks concerned? His eyes shift up to mine. We both know she needs to find an alternate way up the last part of the gauntlet.

Part 9

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh

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