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#ive seen it before. ive heard it all before. and i know i would be another person to fall in that category.
algea · 12 hours
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Ghoul School (pt 2)
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prompt: when you get out of the hospital, Lars has put it onto himself to take care of you until you're healed. I can confirm that there is a big chuck of text where you're really pissed off at him before he gets his shit together!
warnings: tbh i literally dont even know. umm yeah your shin is broken and you're concussed so. things may or may not get a little steamy...cussing duh
a/n: im super mega surprised all my Lars stuff has gotten popular; i think it’s very insanely unhealthy how much i love James Acaster.
~ there are a LOT of little secret references to James in here, comment what you picked out ;)
~ also this is probably longer than the first part idk, but its officially the longest post ive written @jesssuperwholock03
~requested by @thestralluvr
Lars visited you everyday. Every morning, every evening after work, sometimes even over his lunch breaks, like clockwork. You were beginning to think it was seriously unhealthy. You were lying in the hospital bed, 4 days after the incident, with your eyes closed. You heard a soft click of the door and you cracked your eyes slightly. You, being oh-so-surprised, were met with the tired face of your crush colleague and work partner. He wore his jumper tied around his waist, a dark colored button up adorning his body. His hair looked disheveled, which could only mean he had just finished a job. He looked so tired, more tired than you've ever seen him be. It was annoying, honestly. Annoying how attractive he was without even trying. 'Why can't I look like that' you thought to yourself, mentally frowning. You decided to acknowledge his presence, seeing how he took time, again, out of his day to come and visit you.
"Lars." You stated, turning your head look over at him. Lars froze, gazing down at your solemn face. You started to reach out to him, but thought otherwise and rested your hand back on the crisp sheets. You watched as he pushed his glasses up and pulled a chair to sit beside you. Lars rested his forearms on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped.
"I was told that you'll be able to get out of here today." He whispered, his tired eyes searching your face. He was desperate for you to come back, back to how things used to be, where he would tease you, and you would always find witty comeback. But he knew you couldn't, not for a while at least. Lars was so scared you weren't going to be able to work for Ghost Corps anymore, especially since the concussion you got really fucked up your head. Not to mention your shin, which was a huge impact on you.
Lars let out a shaky breath. He unclasped his hands and ran one through his hair. You reached out, more confidently this time, and rested your hand on his. He didn't move his hand; he was scared if you let go, you'd disappear.
"Lars." You said again, your face flashing with worry. Your other hand softly touched his chin, holding his face so delicately.
"I'm scared that you're not going to come back." Lars stated, grimacing at the words that flew out of his mouth.
"Why wouldn't I come back? What made you think this?" You asked, your eyebrows drawing together in a sad furrow.
"I want things to be the same, I don't want things to change." He whispered quietly, his eyes cast down.
"I think you and I both know that it won't be the same, neither of us want to admit it. Normally, you don't go around kissing people and pretend like you hate each other for the rest of your life." You explained, searching his eyes for an answer. His eyes glanced back at you as his cheeks burned with pink. You tipped his head to the side ever so slightly, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone.
"That's unfair, Lars. You can't expect me to leave you alone after that." You pleaded.
"Can we just drop it? It really doesn't fucking matter right now.” Lars snapped. You drew your hand away from his face, hurt flashing across your face.
“What I meant was that we should focus on getting you out of here.” He frantically explained. He reached for your hand, but you pulled away again. Lars had never felt an emotion like this. His ears were ringing and his brain was hazy. It could’ve only been described as embarrassment. He wouldn't cry, no, that's not what he wanted to do. He wanted to apologize over and over again until you'd forget he ever did anything or said anything.
“I think it's maybe time for you to go. When I get out, do me a favor and send Lucky and Pheebs to get me.” You muttered, looking down at your hands. Lars sat there for a few moments, his jaw clenched. He wanted to say something, anything, to make you understand how he felt. Instead, he got up and, with a longing gaze down at you, left.
You felt hot tears sting your eyes, which you allowed to fall down your cheeks. If he wanted to play that dumbass game again, you could do it, just not like you used to. You didn't realize that you were holding your breath until he walked out of the door, not looking back. You slammed your hand down on the bed in a fit of rage, which turned into a soft cry. You wished that you could make better sense of it all, but your wishes never came true.
It was only 2 hours after that you were discharged. Lucky and Phoebe, just as you had requested, rushed in to see you as soon as they could.
"Y/N!" Phoebe exclaimed, running to you and giving you a big hug. You smiled and hugged her back, or at least as much as you could with your crutches. Lucky joined in on the hug before you parted and started making your way to the car.
"Everyone is so happy you're coming home! We've all been super worried." Phoebe smiled, giving you a big smile.
"I'm so happy I get to see you guys again, Pheebs." You grinned back, ruffling her hair. Your mind wandered to Lars as you crutched your way to the car.
"Has um..." You started, realizing that the words were harder to get out of your mouth than you thought.
"He's not here. I haven't seen him since we went out this morning." Lucky explained, catching on to what you were about to ask. You looked down and nodded. 'Of course, how could I be so goddamn stupid.' You thought. Phoebe helped you into the car while Lucky set your crutches next to you. Trevor was driving, which was a whole other risk to be taking.
"Since when did they let you drive?" You asked, grinning at Trevor.
"Since Lars bailed at the last minute. I'm a great driver, so I have no idea what you're even talking about." Trevor bragged. 'He bailed at last minute? He never does that...' You thought sadly. He could've just been working really hard on whatever science thing he was studying. You really didn't know, but it did cut a little.
You didn't know you were carsick until you let Trevor drive you home. You thought Lars was a bad driver, but you quickly realized that Trevor was on the list of 'Never-Ever Drive Me Again,' along with Gary and Ray. You made a mental note of that as you struggled to stand to get out of the car. Trevor quickly rushed to your side to help you, easily pulling you up. You casted your gaze up, which fell on the Firehouse. 'Oh good, he won't be here.' You thought, as a feeling of relief washed over you. You hobbled in next to Phoebe and Trevor with Lucky trailing in not far behind. Callie and Gary stood right after the door, waiting for your arrival. As soon as you entered the Firehouse they were by your side, giving you warm 'hello's' and 'I'm so happy you're back and ok.' You were quick to hug them, hoping to talk to them about your situation with Lars.
"Alright kiddos, time to let the adults talk." Gary clapped, shooing away the smaller kids.
"Hey but I'm not-!" Trevor started, but was dragged away by Lucky. You three sat down around a table. It was silent for a moment as you tried to say what was on your mind.
"Did he come see you?" Callie asked, leaning in close.
"He came and saw me everyday. Sometimes up to three times." You whispered, your hands clasped together. Callie and Gary looked at each other.
"But when he came and saw me this morning, he was different. He was super moody, and got upset when I tried to confront him about kissing me like you said for me to do. I don't know if he doesn't like confrontation or if he, yknow, might be seeing someone else." You went on, nervously biting your nails.
"Y/N, I seriously doubt that there's many women who actually like Lars, much less want to even date him." Gary said, using his left hand to talk. 'Is he right? But I'm sure women think Lars is attractive.' You thought, scrunching your eyebrows together.
"I'm pretty certain that you're like the only woman he's ever talked to in a romantic way, probably even the only woman he’s ever even talked to." Callie confirmed.
"Either way, he likes you. We all know that." Gary finished. You were really hoping he was right, otherwise you were a fool being played.
You chatted for a little while longer, mostly about anything and everything that came to mind. After a while, you told them that you were ready to head home.
"I'll drive you home." Callie said, standing up and grabbing the keys. The ride home was filled with you and Callie singing awful 80's songs, the vast majority of them by Tears for Fears. That was something that cleaned your soul and freed your mind a while. Callie helped you into your apartment before she left with a hug and a warm 'see you soon.' You were seriously hoping that your torture would end.
After a day, you got restless. So restless that you decided to go back to the lab and start working again. Yes, it was idiotically stupid. No, you weren't going to listen to anyone and take a break. Honestly it was going to happen anyways. You walked into the lab the first day, partially hoping that Lars was going to be there, but alas he wasn't. You felt disappointment but you were hopeful that you'd see him tomorrow. Except you didn't. More days past by and you hadn't seen any sign of Lars in the lab at all. You were starting to get more and more worried.
It had been more than a week and you hadn’t seen Lars since. Concern was growing and you were growing weary waiting for him to return. It was extremely hard taking care of yourself, especially since you had to trek a long ways to get yourself to your car outside of your apartment. Finally, you decided it was time to go see Lars. It pissed you off so much that you were running to him, instead of him coming to you. You knew his place, mostly because you, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lucky would sometimes prank him by doing something so absurd he would tremble with anger. That was back when you had your little schoolgirl crush on him, before you realized that you loved him.
You decided to walk, opting for the fact that he knows your car all too well. You weren’t even sure if he was there, you really didn’t even bother checking to see in your group FindMy. You didn’t even bother use your crutches because they were stupid anyways, you could walk just find even though you had a little limp. God you just wanted to fucking punch his stupidly handsome face. He made your blood boil so much.
You were only a few blocks from from his house when it started to rain. Not just a light rain, but a pour. You grew a little worried for your cast, but continued on. You were completely drenched by the time you were on his doorstep. Even worse, it was cold out. You stood on his doorstep for a minute before you started to knock on his door. You breathed out, seeing your own breath in the air. You were so cold. No one answered, which was pretty typical for Lars. He was probably standing in the kitchen, not going to open the door.
"Lars!!" You yelled, knocking on the door some more. Water dripped from your face and you shivered again. The door still didn't open. You sighed and started walking away, the pouring rain drenching you again. You started to tread back to your apartment when you heard a loud bang and turned your head. There Lars was, standing in the doorway, eyes wide as he stared at you.
"Y/N!" Lars yelled back, meeting you in the rain. He craned his head to look down at you, his hands flying to meet your face.
"What are you doing here?" He said, his thumb swiping at your cheek.
"I came to see you. Where the fuck have you been, Lars Pinfield?!" You boomed, your right hand gripping the front of his shirt. His head dropped and he closed his eyes.
"I...I couldn't face you after that dumb shit I pulled. I wanted to apologize, really I did, but I couldn't bring myself to face you." Lars explained, his breath creating a misty cloud. All that either of you could do was stare at each other incredulously.
“Are you fucking stupid? I’ve wanted to see you all week, but your dumbass wouldn’t show up. Jesus Christ Lars, do you have any clue how much I’ve missed you? You’re so goddamn unfair you know that?!” You screamed, pounding on his chest. Lars’ hands moved from your face to your waist, holding you steady while you angrily punched him. He could only see you through his hair, which now stuck to his forehead, and his rain covered glasses which were fogging up. He was freezing, but all he could ever think about was you. How cold were you? Why would you sacrifice your time, hell, your health to come see him. He really couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t comprehend why someone would ever do that for someone. You would think with him being such a genius he would figure it out, however some people can be dense. But he realized that you were giving up all your time to invest in him. So, he decided that he needed to do the same.
"Do you think, maybe, that you'd want to spend the rest of your life, with me, maybe not just hating each other. And maybe not while hating each other, you'd like to be with me, y'know, for a long while?" Lars whispered, causing you to stop throwing punches. You looked up at him, in all his rain drenched glory. God, he looked so beautiful. You began to tremble, your hands lifting to capture his face with them. Lars breath quickened, his large hands gripping your waist. His hazy blue eyes captured yours, holding you in his everlasting gaze.
"Lars..." You murmured, swiping your thumb across his bottom lip. It was soft, softer than you thought it would've been. You found yourself daydreaming again about kissing him, though you'd never let him know how many times you've done it. You realized how close you were after you felt his breath against your cheek. You leaned in closer, pressing your chest against his. It was like something out of a movie, the way time stopped then. When your lips pressed against his, your body shuddered. It was like fireworks went off inside of you, making you all jittery and excited. Lars' hands slipped from your waist to your ass, softly gripping the flesh there. You slipped your fingers into his blond locks, tugging lightly. You heard a light groan rumble from his chest as he pressed into you further.
You weren't sure if the rain mixed with the cold had made you delirious, but after Lars had pulled away, it made him look even hotter. His tousled, wet hair, his lips that were red after the kiss, the ruby flush that adorned his cheeks and ears, and his half-lidded eyes made him even more beautiful. You found yourself feeling heat creep up through your neck to your cheeks as he stared down at you.
“Shit, right, you need to get inside, now.” Lars commanded, dragging you towards the door.
“Lars—!” You exclaimed, eyes widening as he basically picked you up. Your hands fly to grip the shirt on his back as you hoists you over his shoulder. He muttered a few things under his breath as he strolled to the door, obviously not caring that the rain was coming down harder. Lars opened the door, set you down, and shut the door with the heel of his shoe.
“Give me a second.” He commanded, leaving you standing in the foyer. You shivered and looked around, noticing some things that seemed quite out of place. Lars had multiple different band posters framed and hung up around the house, most of them signed. You could pick out a few like Pindrop, Temps, and the Timewasters. You also found multiple different movie titles like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and other things. ‘Interesting’ You thought as you took in your surroundings. Lars appeared again with a towel and some sort of clothes he had found for you to wear.
“If you fuck up my good clothes, I’m kicking your ass to the curb again.” Lars sighed, throwing the towel at you.
“Whatever, brainiac.” You bit back, trying to hold back your grin as you shoved past him. That earned a scoff and an eye roll from Lars.
“Washroom is down the right hall, second door to the left.” He called, peaking down at you as you went to change.
Lars had never had a girl in his house before. Other than the times his mother and sister had come over from Britain, obviously. His “outside” friends insisted that he bring a girl home, but he couldn’t ever bring himself to when he could only think of you. It made him a little giddy knowing that you were here with him. It was like a fever dream, if he woke up it all would be gone. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure that there was a way to prove that this was real. Lars found himself wondering if you liked how his house was decorated, the clothes he brought you, even the way the house smelt. At the thought of these, he began to worry that you didn’t like it here. Those thoughts were denied when you waddled back from the bathroom, furiously rubbing at your hair to dry it. It was silly, really. Lars thought you looked a little too good in his clothes. His Temps T-shirt was too big for you, and his plaid pj pants were rolled a few times to even try and fit you.
“You look stupid in that.” Lars scoffed once more, looking anywhere but your face.
“Hey man, you picked this out. Don’t blame me for your shit style.” You tried back. A hint of a smile could be found dawning his face. You smirked and poked his cheek.
“Is that a smile I see? Is the Lars Pinfield smiling in my presence?” You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand to fake gasp.
“No, it isn’t.” He replied, the smile growing wider on his face.
“It so totally is!!! Lars Pinfield is literally smiling right in front of me!” You exclaimed. He shook his head.
“Shut up. Anyways, I’m getting changed, don’t fucking break anything.” Lars sighed, sliding past you.
“You can put on anything, just as long as it’s not some stupid BritCom.” He added, shutting the door to his room.
“Who even watches BritComs…” You muttered to yourself. Walking back into the main foyer, you sat down on the sofa, which was surprisingly nice compared to how you thought your scientist boyfriend colleague lived. You sat down and flicked through the channels, stopping on whatever stupid romcom movie was on. You sighed and put your chin in your hand, anticipating the snappy response of ‘this is the shittiest movie I’ve ever seen.’
“Hey.” You heard from above you. Looking up, you saw Lars resting his elbows on the top of the sofa next to you.
“Hi.” You peeped back. Secretly, you were gawking at him. Lars wore a pair of white sweatpants and a black shirt. You’ve never seen him in casual wear, but you were absolutely loving it right now. His glasses weren’t pushed up, loosely sitting below the bridge of his nose, and his hair was still damp. If this wasn’t heaven, you didn’t know what was.
“What’re we watching?” He asked, glancing down at you. You shivered when his eyes locked on to yours.
“Some stupid romcom, you probably won’t like it anyways.” You answered.
“You’re right, I’ll probably think it’s super shitty, but I’ll watch it anyways.” He sighed, tipping his head towards you. You reached up and placed a kiss on his lips. Lars scrunched his eyebrows and sighed. After you pulled away, you patted the seat beside you, beckoning him to sit down. He all but scrambled to get next to you, plopping down with another big sigh.
“How’s your leg?” Lars asked once more, motioning to it with his eyes.
“It has definitely seen better days.” You replied earnestly. He nodded in sincerity, then turned his attention back to whatever you were watching. You looked over at him again before reaching over and slipping your hand into his. He didn't move, so you considered it a win. Taking matters into your hands again, you slid closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. Lars' head rested on top of yours immediately and you smiled as he snuggled in closer. You could smell whatever cologne he was wearing, a citrusy, vanilla smell.
"You smell good." You muttered, looking up at him through your lashes. Lars didn't reply, but you could definitely imagine the look on his face. That little embarrassed smile with a scarlet blush dusting his cheeks. You found yourself becoming a little sleepy as you settled in. Blinking a few times, you tried to wake yourself up, but that only made you even more sleepy. Unintentionally, you started to fall asleep. As you drifted off to sleep, you could hear Lars mutter something to you, but you didn't respond.
Somehow, in the middle of the night, you had moved from the sofa, to Lars' bed. Now you only had 2 options as to how you got there. 1. You sleep walked to the bed and magically laid down, or 2. Lars had carried you there. You groaned and opened your eyes, lifting a hand to rub them. You blinked a couple times and sat up. No, Lars wasn't in here. So then, where was he? You slipped out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen, finding that he wasn't there either. A cup of coffee and some breakfast was left on the counter, along with a note saying,
'I'll be back later, got a couple things I need to work on at the lab. I left you some breakfast and I'm sure you can fend for yourself for lunch. Please don't burn the house down. - Lars' You smiled and picked up the coffee, finding that it was still steaming. You noticed that Lars had made the coffee the way you liked it, which meant he definitely paid attention whenever you ordered it.
After basically spending the whole day exploring Lars' house, you settled into the sofa once more with a random book you had picked out of his bookcase. Hearing keys jingle, you lifted your head from the book and saw Lars venture in. You slowly got up, minding both your head and leg, and made your way over to him.
"Hi handsome, how did work go?" You smiled at him, leaning against the doorway.
"It was...eventful. I got thrown up on by pukey." Lars sighed. You laughed and patted his shoulder.
"That was probably hilarious. I'll make dinner while you take a shower." You said, pushing him along to the bathroom.
"Mmmm, fine. But..." He started before he swooped down and kissed you. Your hand flew to his hair, giving it a nice tug. With that came a loud groan. Lars' gripped your waist and pushed you against the wall. His tongue swiped at your lips, which you gladly accepted. You snatched his glasses and tossed them away, squirming slightly as his nails dug your waist. When he pulled away he grinned,
"Looks like I'm not getting my shower in tonight."
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cassiopeia-core · 22 hours
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obsessed
leo valdez x daughter of hecate reader
a/n: calypso is nice in this one, reader is vv insecure (self-projecting lol), also ending was kinda rushed bc i didn't know how to finish it, also not proofread :)
song: obsessed - olivia rodrigo
(calypso is a pisces for the plot)
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La-da-da-da, da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da La-da-da-da, da-da-da
when leo and calypso broke up, the entirety of camp half-blood was flabbergasted. why wouldn't they be? leo had literally sworn on the river styx for calypso, dying and resurrecting for her then rescuing from her cursed island. the perfect couple.
however, what camp half-blood didn't know was the reason behind the breakup: you. while leo did truly like calypso, deep down, he always knew that you, his best friend, had a special place in his heart.
after leo and you got together officially, rumours starting spiralling about how you'd used 'black magic' to capture leo's love and the matching sun and moon necklaces that you two always wore was cursed or something??? you'd always thought these rumours were ridiculous; you'd literally gotten him the necklace before he'd even known calypso.
Cause I know her star sign, I know her blood type I've seen every movie she's been in and, oh god, she's beautiful
but naturally, although you'd never admit it, you were insecure. calypso was smart, funny and beautiful. she was a goddess for gods sake. you tried to push those negative thoughts down, the thoughts that fed the growing monster that was jealousy inside of you. you were obsessed with her.
you literally had a star sign chart featuring her and leo's signs and their compatibility rates. they were so compatible, perfect for each other. being a daughter of hecate and all, you took these things very seriously. but you could never let leo know. what would he think of you then? you didn't want to lose him more. so everytime he would hangout with you in your cabin, you made sure to cast the Mist over your charts, disguising them or making them appear as though they were nothing.
She's talented, she's good with kids She even speaks kindly about me, ha-huh
hoping to break the good girl image everyone had of her, you always dreamed of catching her slipping up and badmouthing you.
like right now.
you'd been heading back to your cabin after dinner when you heard the voices of Calypso and her friends. you were ready to stear clear and hopefully go around them without catching attention but as you neared them, you realised they were talking about you???
you quickly shrouded yourself in the Mist and crept closer. eavesdropping probably wasn't the best idea but you were determined to prove that she wasn't the good girl everyone thought she was.
"girl, have you seen leo's new girlfriend?" you heard one of her friends snicker. your heart picked up its pace and your ears strained to hear more.
"there's no way he'd rather be with a witch than you calypso, who in their right mind would do that?"
your heart plummeted when you heard calypso sigh, "guys, i've moved on, leo's moved on so there's really no point in badmouthing y/n. also, she is one of the sweetest people ive met. please don't think so lowly of her."
needless to say, you slunk ashamedly back to your cabin.
But I can't help it, I got issues, I can't help it, baby
you couldn't sleep.
couldn't stop comparing yourself to her, couldn't stop doubting why leo could possibly leave her for u.
they were perfect together, like warm flames embracing the smoldering logs in a fireplace on a cold winter's day. but you? you were nothing. you were like the useless mantelpiece above the fireplace, watching on as the flames danced to their full potential.
so you decided it would be best to break up with him
coming to a cold, hard conclusion, you swung yourself out of bed and out of your cabin, and headed towards bunker 9, where undoubtedly, your hardworking boyfriend would be slaving away at the forges.
upon hearing you arrive, leo dropped his work with a clatter and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "baby!" he sang, making his way towards you. "look what i - "
"leo," you interrupted. he looked so excited, eyes brimming with love and enthusiasm, looking at you like were the most beautiful piece of art in the world. you almost stopped yourself from saying your next words but - "leo, i want to break up"
he came to a halt before you. "w-what? did i do something wrong? i'll fix it please, please, please don't do this. just tell me what's wrong? i love you baby please."
you could feel your heart shatter at the sight before you. eyes wide with uncertainty and face full of confusion, the upset on leo's face made you want to turn back time take back your words.
"leo, im so sorry. i love you so much too but, i'm so obsessed with your ex. i feel like a fucking creep! i can't help but think that we're not meant to be and calypso is perfect for you." you managed, chest aching, desperate for something to hold onto, to cling onto. "you're wasting your time on me. i'm not worth it."
"aww baby," leo pulled his arms around you. you sobbed into his shoulder, not caring about how dirty your pajamas were going to be after this. "baby, please don't think like that. you're my forever girl. my one in a million lifetimes. and i love you for you."
you sobbed harder and leo's grip on you tightened. "mi vida, i swear on the river styx that i will try my hardest for you to never ever feel this way again. just promise me that you'll stay with me. i'll love only you, baby. promise."
and he kept it till his very last breath.
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a/n pt2: ummm (idk what this is but i love leo soooo)
divider creds: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more 
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boygirlctommy · 1 year
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watching this phantom boot for the second time today auaghhh
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dapperrokyuu · 6 months
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My fatal flaw is that Ill gravitate towards crime/detective shows even tho I know from experience theyll either be dramatized garbage or played straight predictable.
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zouisalmightie · 8 months
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last night there was a meteor shower so we drove out to the desert and the official park was packed so we just drove out to a semi secluded spot off the road and set up camp. there was a guy that came after us and he was like slowly moving closer to me and my sister? like i was tracking him cuz i could hear his footsteps but it was pitch black and i was focused on the stars so i lost track of him. and we were laughing and talking and my friend just stood up and like stood behind me. he didn’t say anything just stood there with his back to me and i turned around and that man was literally hiding behind the bush that was at my back. like he could have jumped out and grabbed me. and i had no idea he was there. thankfully my friend is a 6’4 man so the guy slinked off but that was fucking terrifying.
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molten-m122 · 1 month
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sex tape? - l.n
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Fingering, Sex Tape, S e x
Pairing: Lando Norris x photographer!fem!reader
Summary: Lando wants some interesting angles.
You were the McLaren photographer, your job was simple - take photos, edit them and publish them onto social media. Easy. Well, it was supposed to be, at least. And you hardly expected Lando Norrs to be the one to complicate the situation. 
“Y/N,” a voice called your name, making you turn your head, “get a load of this angle,”. Your Y/H/C hair was tied out of your face with with a claw clip, a McLaren polo hanging on your body along with a greyish black skirt that finished at your mid thigh and white trainers. Just as you turned to walk towards one of your colleagues, your body collided with another. Lando’s arm immediately snaked around your waist as if he knew too were going to fall, almost as of he had purposefully pushed you. “Careful,” he said, a smirk on his face as he said your name. Your cheeks filled with red; things like these had been happening a lot, but surely it was all just an and accident, no? What would Lando Norris, multimillionaire and world-class Formula One driver, want anything to do with you? 
Shaking the thoughts from your head, you mumbled a quick thank you as you walked away. Kneeling down at the front wing of the car, the Spanish hot sun on your neck, you positioned the lens of your camera so it appeared that the sun was resting on the halo of the car. “Nice angle,” Lando’s voice appeared again, making you look up. He wasn’t look in at the camera, though. His hazel-green eyes were fixed on you, the curve of your waist and the way your skirt clung to your bare thighs. You stood up quickly, he probably accidentally looked. “Render those images, Y/L/N,” Zak said hurriedly as he rushed past you to talk to Lando. You nodded with a murmur of ‘yes sir’ as you headed off. Not before you heard Lando’s voice, saying, “You really should be nicer to Y/N,”. Lando knew your name?
Maybe it was someone else? No. Of course not. There was no other Y/N. Truth was, Lando loved your name. He loved the way it rolled off of his tongue, and, as much as he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t help but think about the way he could whisper your name along with countless dirty things into your ear as he fucked you. You sat at your desk, the sun setting slowly as many employees went home. You didn’t mind working overnight, there was something about the atmosphere in the garage that was just so peaceful. Poeple continued to leave until it was only you and two others there. They both were PR and went to their respective rooms in the garage to work, leaving you alone at a desk. “Hello Y/N,” a voice said behind you, making you jump slightly, spilling a drop of coffee onto your lap. 
“Lando, hi,” you said, wiping it from your torso with an embarrassed look. “I didn’t know you’d be here so late,” you said awkwardly, rubbing the back of your head. “I wanted to see the view,” he said simply, eyes locked on yours. The view of what? You or the damn car? “The car looks good,” you continued, putting your camera down. “It does. Ive seen better things though,” he shrugged airily, shaking his hair out of his face. “What are you doing?” he turned to the computer, finally breaking eye contact. Thank god. “Cleaning up some stuff,” you shrugged, opening the photoshop app and showing it to him. “Nice,” he hummed, leaning forwards. His hand gently rested on your shoulder as he looked, half sliding down as he squinted at the screen. “You have talent, Y/N,” he saidm standing back straight. “Thank you,” you said, truly grateful. It was a lot you hear, coming from someone like Lando.,
He nodded in approval before he untucked the chair next to you and sat down. Shit. He was staying? “Don’t let me stop you,” he said calmly. You tried to block him out of your vision and focus on work, but that man. Fuck, that man drive you crazy. The way his curls rested on his forehead,d legs spread wide, one elbow on the chair as his arm flexed. You made the mistake of looking. You tried to be discreet, maybe get just a look at him. Fuck. “Eyes are here, Y/N,” he smirked, placing his finger under your chin and lifting your face up. You flushed red, you didn’t mean to look, well, down. “You can look if you want,” he shrugged, smirking. “I saw some good shots earlier, I can show you,” he said, breaking the awkward silence. You shrugged, picking up your camera and following him. You didn’t notice how he locked the garage, shutting the rotor and following you. It was just you, him, and the car. “Where?” you said, holding you camera. “Let me show you,” he whispered, walking up behind you. He placed his hands softly on your waist, pushing you forwards as your heart skipped a beat. Fuck was he close. 
“Wait, let me…” he said, spinning you around. You gulped as he continued to walk forwards. The back of your legs hit the side pod, making you fall gently onto it, acting as a sort of chair. “Thanks,” he said, taking the camera as you watched him, slightly confused. With one hand, he lifted your leg onto the car, lifting the device to his eye and snapping the picture. “Perfect,” he muttered adjusting you so you were perched on the end. He continued to put you into various positions, your cheeks fiery red as he continued. “Sexy as ever,” he would say placing you onto your hands and knees against the car. For each one, they got more intimate, his hand u buttoning various parts of your outfit til the shirt was removed entirely. “I have a better idea,” he said, putting the camera down. Unbuckling his belt, he revealed his cock, making you gasp as you looked up at him. “Lando…” you began but he wasn’t listening. “What about this?” he said, pushing it against your stomach. Snap. One picture. Lifting you onto the side pod, he spread your legs out, removing your underwear. “Good girl,” he muttered, placing kisses onto your neck and temple ad you watched him. 
Slowly, he slid two of his fingers into you, making you gasp at the feeling. He lifting your skirt, not enough to see your pussy, but to leave the rest to the imagination go the viewer, his fingers very much inside of you. Snap. Another picture. Removing his digits, he lining his cock up against your thigh. Snap. Inside of you. Snap. Your cheeks red. Snap. His hand on your thigh. Snap. “Make it video,” he said, as you pushed a button eagerly. Beep. Recording. He gently started rocking forwards as you mooned, his lips against yours as he held the camera against his stomach. “Feel good?” she cooed. “Y-yeah,” you whimpered, speaking for the first time in ages. He started moving quicker, extracting more whines and mow sad from you, only which made him smirk more. 
“Fuck,” you said, his cheek red as your stomach tightened. “Lando…” you muttered. Beep. He ended the video. “Hmm” He hummed, trying to remain composed. “Oh fuck,” you moaned as the knot unravelled, his following soon after as the cum seeped out of your pussy and onto the car. Snap. Photo. “Lando, you in there? We’re locking up,” a voice called from the door. And trust me, there were a LOT of questions when you accidentally opened the photo of Lando’s dick inside of you instead of the car shots. 
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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i am so BUMMED when i realized ive read all of your polymarauders works. can i get more of them please? especially the one like the 'casual dominance' fic omgg. that one made me feel THINGS. btw!!! congrats on reaching the 1k mark. totally deserved <33
-🥀
Wow babe, that's a lot! I'm really glad you're enjoying them! I know I've written a few since you sent this in, but I decided to treat this as a request for specifically casual dom!marauders because I'm weak for them too :*
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Your teeth chatter as you step out of the fastest shower of your life, barely drying yourself off before starting on your makeup. You’re so dumb. You’re so, so dumb. Of course it’d be the night before your presentation that you’d accidentally set your alarm for PM instead of AM. How many times had you stirred, thought about getting up, and decided to wait until your alarm went off? It had only been when you’d woken to an empty bed, sunlight coming in through the window, that you’d realized. 
You’re still running on the adrenaline of that waking jolt, now mixed with the extra edginess from your frigid shower since you couldn’t afford to wait for the water to warm. You probably won’t be late, but you’re definitely going to be late by pre-presentation standards. You’d planned to get there a half hour in advance to set up and mentally prepare. Now you’re going to have ten minutes at best, and that’s only if you can get out the door in the next few. You finish with your makeup—your hair’s just going to have to dry on the way—and turn to where you’d hung your pre-selected and Sirius-vetted presentation outfit the night before. The hangers sit empty. 
You go into the bedroom, hoping one of the boys had laid them out on the bed while you’d been in the shower. Nothing. Just your socks and shoes where you’d left them by the bedroom door. 
“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, pulling the socks on because you can do that, at least. “Shit shit shit!” 
You take off down the stairs, relieved to see Sirius on his way up. “Hey! Do you know where—” your foot hits too close to the edge of one step, slipping down to the next. It seems inclined to keep going, but Sirius’ hands catch you around the waist. 
“Jesus, baby.” He looks down at your feet as you get them under you again, eyebrows drawn together. “Running down the stairs is already a punishable offense, but with socks on?” 
“Do you know where my presentation outfit went?” you ask in a rush. 
Sirius blinks. “No. It’s not where you left it?” You shake your head and decide this conversation is no longer a productive use of your time, moving past him. “Don’t run,” he says after you, and you slow to a slight hustle down the remaining steps. 
You practically skid into the kitchen, where Remus is just about to sit down at the table with his cup of coffee and James is running the blender. You raise your voice to be heard over it. “Do either of you know where my presentation outfit went?” 
James stops the blender. “Morning to you too, sweetheart. Everything okay?” 
You feel like you could burst into tears, but that would just waste more time. Why is no one cooperating with your need for efficiency?
“I’m going to be late!” you stress to James, turning around to survey the kitchen, the living room, like they’ll just be hanging in some random corner where you somehow forgot them. “I need my clothes, have you seen them?”
“Dove.” Remus takes you by the shoulders. “Breathe. You’ve got time.” 
You exhale, trying not to twitch as your skin crawls with urgency, or to lecture him on how little time you actually have. Remus watches you patiently. His hands slide up to either side of your face once you no longer seem like a flight risk, thumb stroking your cheek. 
“Your outfit’s in the dryer,” he says in a soothing voice, still holding you as if to keep you from running off. “I was warming it up while you were in the shower.” 
Your next inhale scrapes on the way in, a grateful pressure building behind your eyes. “Rem, that’s so sweet,” you say. “Thank you.” 
Remus gives you a smile and a little shrug, more casual than the faint pinkness of his cheeks would suggest. He lets his hands skim back down your neck, giving your upper arms a light squeeze. “Why don’t you let it finish running while you have your breakfast, yeah? That way there’s no risk of spilling on it.” 
You shake your head, aware this won’t go over well but too anxious to worry much about it. “I don’t have time for breakfast,” you tell him. “I need to catch the bus in, like—” Your eyes search for a moment before landing on the microwave clock. “—five minutes.” 
“I’ll drive you,” Sirius says, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as he comes back downstairs.
You glance at the microwave clock again in case you read it wrong the first time. “You can’t,” you say. “You’ll be late.” 
Sirius shrugs. “I don’t have a presentation. They’ll deal with it.” 
You look to Remus, expecting him to object to Sirius’ proposed tardiness, but he only nods, sitting down with his coffee. 
“Are…are you sure?” you ask Sirius, trying to adjust to the sudden non-urgency of your situation. 
“It’s no problem,” he promises you. “Stop looking so upset, honey, just eat your breakfast.” 
“Drink your breakfast, is more like it,” James says proudly, coming in from the kitchen to pass you a glass of whatever he’d been concocting in the blender. It’s a murky brown-green, and you try not to wrinkle your nose for James’ sake. 
“Thanks.” You take it from him tentatively. “It’s…it’s a smoothie?” 
James laughs at your expression, and you think you hear Remus snort into his coffee. “Yes, it’s a smoothie. The color’s because of the chocolate protein powder and the spinach, but it’s got fruit, too, don’t worry.” 
You swirl the glass a bit, assessing the color. “Why so much spinach?”
James sets a hand on your shoulder, encouraging you into your chair as he joins the three of you at the table with a smoothie of his own. “Iron, sweetheart.” He casts a pointed glance at your legs, spotted here and there with purple-and-yellow blotches of skin. “Seems like need it. You’re bruising like a peach lately.” 
Remus hums in agreement as you take a tentative sip of the smoothie. It’s not bad, though you can feel little bits of spinach sticking to your teeth. You make a mental note to have Sirius check your smile before you get out of the car later.
“And I saw that look in your eyes when you stood up too quick from the couch yesterday,” Remus says, quirking an eyebrow when you look at him in surprise. “You’re not as subtle as you think, dove.” 
You bring the glass to your lips again to avoid making a response. Sirius laughs, and when you smile sheepishly, his grin turns goofy. “Hold it there,” he says, taking your jaw in hand. You keep your smile in place as his eyes narrow. “Front tooth on the left. My left.” You lick at the piece of spinach, and he nods, dropping his hand. 
“Knew I could count on you,” you tell him. “Thanks, Siri.” 
Sirius pecks you on the cheek. “S’what I’m here for, gorgeous.”
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
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VICTORS SPOILS
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pairings: dark!finnick odair x fem!capitol!reader
warnings: obsession, following/stalking, creepy behaviour, naive/younger reader, age gap, (reader is 19 and finnick's around 25), non-con touching and kissing, manipulation, bj mentions/insinuations, sex mentions, prostitution mentions, finnick lowkey preying on you - descriptions of brown reader (i was self indulgent since i’m indian 😁) condescending/nit picking mother and pushy parents!
summary: a victor should be celebrated! a victor should get what ever they wish, even if it’s a sweet capitol girl who misplaced her kindness in someone who was in desperate need of reprieve and distraction.
a/n: ITS MY BIRTHDAY!!! HERES A GIFT FROM ME TO YOU ❤️GUESS WHO MADE HER OWN LITTLE HEADER GAHH!! i tried my bestttt - ive been away for a littleeee!! sorry babes <33 it was like 3am and i cooked this up in my head before opening my brewing pot (notes app) and jotting it down - NOT PROOFREAD
the hall was so loud.
they always were at capitol parties. your mother and father always dragged you along, stating that a young lady should be getting out, meeting people, friends, becoming well versed and established in the capitol. and that they wouldn’t always be here. “you need to learn to be alone, fend for yourself and stand your ground. how are you gonna do that if you’re always trying to keep to yourself dear?” your mother sweetly smiled as she looked over you, “i think you still have time to change that dress, not the most flattering sweetie.”
you scoffed as she walked away ever so elegantly. you looked over yourself in the mirror, the green dress was gorgeous, to you at least. but the blue dress your mother had chosen was breath-taking, as much as you hated to agree with her opinion. so you bit your tongue and put the chosen dress on.
mother knows best right?
the sun was setting with an especially beautiful array of colours to which you figured no one would really notice you were gone if they were all focused on something else. there was probably a screen upstairs which you could watch something on. a few things to eat and drink then you’d head up there.
finnick was glancing over to you the whole night. you’d worn blue, and he’d taken it as an ode to him. you hadn’t looked over at him yet but your leaving of the party seemed like an invitation to him to finally introduce himself.
as you settled down on the plush couch you felt all your tensions melt away. but finnick wouldn’t leave you alone for long. “i’m sorry i didn’t know this was occupied.” finnick looked sad and you had no clue why, so being as nice as you are had you opening the room in invitation to him. “no, no! i just wanted to get away from the party. you’re welcome to sit with me finnick.” it felt odd to you for some reason, calling him by his name as if he was a friend. you’d only ever seen him through screens and from afar yet he looked as amazing as always.
“are you sure?” you nodded and smiled, moving down the couch to make room for him. he sat down, respectful of your space. he looked drained and you felt the same way. “tired of the party?” you asked as he smiled and nodded, “a lot of people asking a lot of questions.” you spoke, “everyone has something to say or ask. my dad told me he got three men asking for my hand. we haven’t even been here for two hours. it’s like being in a room with vultures. and if i do accept i’ll just be, nothing. someone stuck to the side of some ugly guy who just wants a pretty face.” you didn’t know what it was about him but you felt as if you could tell him anything.
and he sat, and listened. nodding his head and adding it where appropriate. it felt, nice. having someone actually listen to what you said rather than just asking what you were wearing. he was nothing like what you expected. you’d heard the whispers. that he was a playboy, he was with and had been with multiple women and men over the years. and that he liked it, the gifts, the people, the uhm, other aspects.
“but you, i’m sure you have people to meet, scope out.” you wanted to curl up and die as soon as the words left your mouth. “no! oh my god, i do not mean it like that. you- i- you should not feel ashamed of what you like. i am so sorry- i didn’t mean to imply-” god would you stop droning on? finnick pressed his lips into a thin line, “hey it’s okay. you’re fine. in all honestly, i know everyone has mis-conceptions of me.” you took his place in attentive listening as he explained the truth.
the threats, the people pawing at him, him being sold from fourteen.
you were crying. it all sounded unbelievable and unbearable for someone to go through at such a young age, his life was ruined all because he was pretty, desirable. no child should even have to think of such things let alone experience them. and rather than you comforting him, he was sitting with his arms around you. he was too good to be true.
“i- no i’m so sorry that happened to you finnick. i had no clue, no one does. you are such an amazing person, from the little time i’ve known you. you don’t deserve any of this. how could you get away from this? we could- we could expose snow we could-” finnick cut you off with teary eyes, “there’s nothing we can do. trust me, if there was i would have tried. but i think, if i got married perhaps. i’d have a reason to stay away from the captiol. we’d live in district four, in peace.”
the idea was pretty decent, you’d give him that. and you couldn’t help your heart running a little faster at the prospect of potentially marrying him. you were already fast friends, at least you’d marry a friend? even if he potentially loved someone else or you loved another.
“what if- if you married me?”
he’d hoped you’d say that.
“you’d do that for me? seriously?” finnick faked shock as you nodded, “we’re friends, i’d much rather marry you than anyone else here to be honest. we could be happy.” you smiled as he wiped away his last tear. “y/n, that’s an amazing idea.”
your wedding was marvellous.
your parents pushed out buck after buck, no expense spared for their little girl. as if they actually cared for you. your wedding dress was white and pristine, courtesy of snow. your brown hair in curls and your brown skin glistening. but you added blue accents for finnick, or you thought you did. it’s not like he pushed for you to wear the things he bought by incessantly reminding the makeup artists and helpers that you were marrying the finnick odair, his wife deserved nothing but the best.
you stood infront of a friend, smiling, happy to be marrying a kind soul.
he stood in front of the object of his affection, his desire and love.
in the first few weeks you were undeniably happy, finnick was as sweet as ever and respected you. it was your best outcome. but overtime you seemed to notice changes in his behaviour. when you’d want to go out into town for dinner he’d always have an excuse up his sleeve.
“there’s roadworks towards your favourite restaurant honey. maybe another time?”
“apparently they’re all booked out, maybe in a few weeks time?”
“wouldn’t you rather have a home-cooked meal? i made your favourite sweetheart.”
it began to annoy after the sixth time. “it can’t always be busy can it? we use to go all the time, and it’s not like they’d refuse you finnick. what’s going on?”
“i give you everything you could ever want. why the hell do you want to go out so much? am i not enough? are you- are you seeing someone?” finnick slumped in his seat.
your eyes widened as you rushed over to him, settling on your knees as your hands were placed on his thighs, “finnick how could you say such a thing? i would never do that to you. i swear there’s nothing going on, i just, i’m bored. i’d like to go out with you, explore your district with you, meet new people with you.” finnicks eyes burnt into yours. this is certainly not how he first wanted to see you on your knees, but at least you were whining.
“yeah? you like me? you promise there’s nothing going on?” you nodded dumbly, “yes yes! nothing i promise.” finnick looked down at your hands in his lap, “how do i know you’re not lying?” your hands were on his knees as you straightened your back, coming closer to his eye level, “i promise finnick. you are my husband, i’m with you. i’ll do anything to prove it to you.”
finnick was fighting off every muscle in his cheeks to not start grinning whilst the sad look on his face was breaking your heart, “yeah? anything?” oh this was going to be good. your cheeks were flushed as you heard the words come of out his mouth, “undo my belt sweetheart, show me how much you mean it.” wavering hands hovered over his belt buckle as finnick relaxed into his seat, it couldn’t get better than this right?
wrong.
every time you asked to go out, to meet a friend, to go to the capitol he’d always sulk. and the night would end with you on your knees, him on his to make you forget, or the two of you tangled in sheets.
finnick was finally happy, he had the girl of his dreams after such a long period of sadness, of exploitation and terror. fake smiles and lingering eyes.
he finally got something out of the games.
and his gift?
the victors spoils.
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kjhbsies · 2 months
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Romantic Roulette
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HELP PALESTINE • donation links • ways to help • why you should not buy/support TLOU2 remaster
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Football Player!Ellie x Classy fem!reader
Synopsis: Ellie, the charismatic star and team captain of the school's football team, finds herself entangled in a daring bet with her teammates. When challenged to win the affection of someone who is deemed to be "out of her league", - you, the one who everyone thinks is straight and seemingly Ellie's complete opposite - Ellie takes the wager with a huge confidence.
As Ellie made her way to pursue you, she soon realized that breaking your walls is no easy task. Unexpectedly, the more Ellie gets to know you, the more she finds your genuine charm and personality. Amid the game, Ellie discovers that her heart is no longer in it for the bet but for a chance at something real.
wordcount: 6, 473 Part II : PART III: PART IV
based on this request!
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Romantic Roulette
Ellie Willams, one of the school’s most famous girls. Not only because she’s the football captain and has been distinguished as the best player in the nationals game, but because she has the looks that make every single girl drop down on their knees and worship her. 
It’s good, really. She loved the fame, the attention, and the girls that came with it. You can always see Ellie in different clubs, partying her ass out, not caring about the school tomorrow. She was always the center of attention in there, and you could spot her, always in the middle, with a ring of girls encircling her, wanting to even get a chance to just touch her hair or even her tattooed arm which everyone adores. 
Ellie always finds herself with different girls in her bed every single night. But she liked to think that it wasn’t her fault when they started catching feelings for her. Because, hey, she just wanted to have a good time, and she doesn’t really fully believe in some bullshit everyone calls love. She saw it as a waste of time, and thus she doesn’t even bother to commit to a relationship. 
Every girl flocked around her feet, wanting even to get a taste of her body, and Ellie wasn’t a saint to decline them. They wanted to please her, and who was she not to agree to that? She doesn’t even bother asking for their name because she knows that she will just forget about it by the time they are in bed. Ellie always has someone who she calls whenever she felt horny, and they would oblige immediately no matter what day or hour is it. And that’s one of the many perks that she loved about being herself. 
The locker room was loud as hell after their practice. Everyone was buzzed and energetic amidst the hot weather. Different conversations were emerging as the players were catching up with each other. 
Ellie walked out of the shower and everyone’s attention was already with her. Wearing her sports bra and grey pajamas, Ellie laughed as she heard someone talking about a funny incident last night. She sat down in one of the chairs inside while drying her auburn hair with a towel.
“Fuck it, man. You just swooped in and got to bed Atasha that fast?” Riley asked.
Ellie laughed loudly. “Sorry, dude, she’s practically begging for me all night while we’re at the club. It’s pathetic.”
“Damn, I was talking to her all night and she just immediately stood up when she saw you.” Riley shook her head, feigning her sadness.
“Sorry, dude. You should’ve seen her bouncing at my cock last night. She moans like a fucking chicken.” Ellie stood up, picked up her hoodie, and immediately wore it. Everyone hollered at her joke. Riley playfully smacked her in her arms. Ellie looked at her watch and groaned. “Ah, I still fucking have a history class.”
“Man, be thankful that Mrs. Garcia was your professor. Her tits are spilling out every time she bends over to pick up something in her bag.” Vanessa rolled her eyes before playfully moaning.
Ellie laughed again. “Sorry, dude, I was too busy looking at my seatmate.”
One of her teammates, Alex, went near them, engaging herself in the conversation after she was done showering. “Who?” She asked, drying her arms with a towel.
“You probably don’t know her but her name’s y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” Ellie answered before gathering her messenger bag and her bottled water. Honestly, Ellie doesn’t even know how she remembered your name. She doesn’t even talk to you in or outside the class that much. She can probably count on her two hands how many interactions you two had for the semester. There’s just something about you that Ellie can’t wrap her fingers. She can’t explain how much you attracted her.
The whole team fell silent and stole glances with each other before bursting out in laughter. This made Ellie look at them with a curious stare. Both of her brows rose, as she watched them holler, completely clueless.
“What’s so funny?” Ellie crinkled her nose. 
“Well, first off, we know her. She’s like everyone’s dream girl, dude. But you can’t take her out. You’re not her type.” Alex smirked.
Ellie looked at her with an offended stare. “What do you mean I’m not her type? I’m everyone’s type.” 
“Apparently, not for her. You don’t even know if she’s gay.” Alex argued.
“Everyone’s gay for me.” 
“Then try flirting with her, I’m telling you it won’t work. She’s way out of your reach.” 
“Dude,” Ellie chuckled, “No one is out of my reach. Wanna bet?” Ellie smirked, pulling up her wallet and raising it before Alex’s face. Everyone said a loud and long ‘ooh’ in unison.
Alex smiled back at her, “Ten dollars?”
“Make it twenty if I kissed her.” 
“Fifty… if you can take her to the bed. But if you can’t, then owe me those fifty dollars.”
Ellie laughed. “You think I can’t do that?” She traced the inside of her mouth with the tip of her tongue. “Fine. I’m in.” Ellie accepted the challenge.
To start, Ellie doesn’t know much about you. Only that you loved listening to Mrs. Garcia’s boring history lessons, asking so many questions about the topic, and attentively writing down everything the professor said. This is why you’re her favorite student. And also, you loved to wear those classy vintage dresses and you’re also polite as fuck. You’re the opposite of the girls that Ellie loved hooking up with. To be honest, you’re nowhere near Ellie’s type of girl but something about you that makes her drawn to your energy like she’s a moth to the fire – you. 
You’re not the type of person who would go having meaningless sex, and Ellie somewhat predicted it. Besides, her whole team was convinced that you wouldn’t budge, nor break down your defenses to Ellie. Because firstly, they believed that you’re straight. 
Yeah, believed.
Because Ellie wasn’t nearly convinced that you wouldn’t throw yourself at her feet. That you wouldn’t scramble at the sight of her. That she can’t make you question your sexuality. Because Ellie was full of herself she could do that. She always does.
“So… are you free tonight?” A girl in their class asked Ellie flirtatiously while tracing the tattoo on her arm. She sat down in front of Ellie’s table, riding up her skirt to reveal more skin on her thigh. If this were a normal day, Ellie would’ve said back at her. Probably ask her to be her date for the night, and make plans where they would fuck. But since she’s on a mission, and you could go inside the room and see the two of them, then you’d probably lose all of your interest. And Ellie doesn’t want that. 
“I’m not. Why don’t you just go back to your seat, Johanna?” Ellie sarcastically asked her.
The girl retreated and looked at Ellie with irritation. “My name’s Christine!” She said before angrily stomping her way to the front seat.
At the same time, you walked inside. You were holding your books in your right arm, and the other one was clutching the straps of your handbag. Your hair was in a simple style – the front pieces were tucked behind your hair neatly, revealing the gold hoops you were wearing. You were just wearing jeans and heels paired with a plain long sleeve that revealed your collarbones and curves that made Ellie’s breath hitch. 
Ellie’s gaze followed yours as you were making your way beside her. Ellie took the courage to flash you a charming smile while you were sitting. She doesn’t expect you to do anything, so when you flashed back a beam, Ellie almost gasped in shock.
“Hey, darling.” You greeted and Ellie didn’t know what to do. It’s like all of her flirting skills were gone after she heard your voice. Goddamnit.
Ellie cursed herself before silently shaking her head as if to gain back her consciousness. She’s starting to look like a fucking loser. “Hi… you look pretty.” She complimented you before smirking and looking up and down your body. 
“Wow,” You couldn’t help but smile shyly while gazing down. “It kinda means a lot to me since it’s from the captain of the football team.” You looked up at her, meeting her green eyes that were staring at you intently. “Though I was curious as to why you’re talking to me.” You joked. 
Ellie chuckled. “You knew me?”
You shrugged. “Of course, who doesn’t?”
“Well… I thought you weren’t paying attention to me.” 
You crinkled your nose. “I think it’s the other way around.”
Ellie’s tongue traced the insides of her cheek, before she leaned into her chair, still staring at you. “I just want to be friends.” 
You scoffed. “Friends? Didn’t you have a lot of that?”
“Well,” Ellie leaned in front of you. She rested her elbows on her knees. “Is it bad not to want you as my friend?”
“No,” You smiled. “But it was such an odd thing. You and I were seatmates ever since and you never really noticed me. So, what’s your intentions?”
Ellie’s heart jumped. She never expected you to quip back at her. “I’m just… scared to talk to you.” She shook her head, wanting to appear convincing but it’s just a lie. Yes, Ellie does notice you every time, but she never attempts to talk to you solely because she is too busy with other girls.
“You’re afraid to talk to me?” You asked back, finding her reason ridiculous because she’s Ellie Williams. Being afraid of a girl wasn’t in her vocabulary and you knew that. “There are tons of girls who want to befriend you, Williams. You and I weren’t exactly a perfect match.” You smiled at her before you looked in front of the classroom, where Mrs. Garcia was.
Ellie was left dumbfounded.
Did you just reject her?
“It should be fucking easy,” Ellie complained to her friends while walking back and forth. They’re at Dina and Ellie’s shared boarding house after all of their classes have ended.
Dina rolled her eyes, putting on her lip gloss in her bag after she was done using it. “Well, it’s good that you knew how to get rejected for once.” She then made her way to the couch, sitting beside her boyfriend, Jesse, who was lying down sideways while eating popcorn.
“Yeah, and she wasn’t supposed to do that. She was supposed to say yes and let us be friends so I could make my advancements on her like every other girl. But no, she didn’t.” Ellie groaned.
Dina glared at her friend. “Well, first off, not every girl is the same.” 
“No, Dina, I think they are.” She rolled her eyes stubbornly.
“And second, you should stop messing with her, okay? I know Y/n, and she’s a very kind girl. Playing with other’s feelings is cruel.”
Jesse nodded and hummed while putting a mouthful of popcorn in his mouth.
“And lose fifty dollars to Alex and hurt my pride? No way.” Ellie scoffed.
“What if she found that it was all a stupid bet?”
“She won’t, Dina.” 
“How can you be so sure?” Jesse asked with a muffled voice because of the food. Dina smacked him.
“Stop talking while your mouth is full!” 
“No one will tell her, okay? She can’t find out.” Ellie answered with a determined voice.
Dina shook her head at her. “You know what? Go on, do whatever you want because you won’t even listen to me. But don’t forget that I warned you not to continue this.” Dina pointed her finger at Ellie.
“Thank you, Dina. But I think I can handle myself.”  Ellie smirked at her to annoy her friend even more. 
The one place that you’ll find Ellie the most is with different clubs and bars – particularly the ones that are near the university. And the last spot that you’ll meet her is in the library. 
In her defense, what would she do here? She was not fond of reading books, not even the ones that she should use, and she hated the deafening silence in this huge room. Once, Ellie tried to come along with Dina and her friends in a group study and she just got numerous glares from the librarian that was telling her to keep quiet. Ellie never learned a thing, and she’s pretty sure that she just made a new enemy that day. So, Ellie swore not to go in here.
But today was the day that she broke that promise. 
Ellie strides into the huge library while holding a particularly dirty football that was fresh from the practice. She’s still in her sports attire. Her auburn hair was tied in a bun, and some strands of her hair were sticking onto her sweaty forehead and neck. She managed to change her shirt into a plain white one but her shorts were still the same. 
After their football practice, Ellie never got to shower and change completely because she knew that you’d be gone on campus already. So she just drenched herself in her perfume – making sure that you can’t smell even the slightest of her sweat. 
The same librarian Ellie encountered before was in charge of today. She recognized the football captain and made a face of grimace and disapproval at her looks. 
“Your shoes have mud in them.” She pointed out when Ellie passed by her.
In answer, Ellie just put on her charming smile. “Oh, I didn’t even notice.” She said before briskly walking away from her.
It was not hard for Ellie to find you. It was a Tuesday afternoon and most of the students were in their respective classes so the library wasn’t packed. Besides, how could Ellie not notice you when you were walking around the room with one of your mini-dresses?
“Hey,” ElliE came up behind you. And since you were immersed in the book you were holding, you almost jumped up in shock.
“Shit, you scared me.” You said in a hushed voice.
“Woah, you can curse?” Ellie asked, amused.
You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I’m not a saint.”
Ellie chuckled at your joke. “That’s shocking.”
You snorted. “Not really. So… what do you want for you to come rushing in here right after your practice?”
Ellie looked at her dirty shorts and muddy shoes. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yup. You were tainting the tiles and Ms. Loren looks like she wants to jab you at your jaw.” You looked behind her, nodding in the librarian’s direction.
“Oh… so that’s what her name is.” Ellie looked at the woman and offered a smile but she just huffed in answer. 
“Can I help you with something?” You asked again, and Ellie turned her attention to you.
“Actually… yes. I was struggling with History classes because I’m not good at memorizing ton shits and Mrs. Garcia’s quizzes were really really hard. And because of the upcoming intramurals, we’re always at the field to practice which is why I missed a quiz at her.” 
“Last meeting?”
“Yup.”
“So that’s why you’re not there.” 
Ellie nodded. “I never got to pass any of her exams, and she said that my grades would go down if I failed another quiz. So… can you tutor me?” Ellie shot you with a pleasing gaze.
You looked at her with a surprised face. “Why me?”
“You're her favorite student, and you’re always the top of the class. Please…?” Ellie gave you a puppy eyes.
You stared at her face, contemplating about everything. You were about to utter a word but there was nothing that left your mouth. 
“I’ll do anything you want. Just… text me if you made up your mind.” Ellie says. She looked at the table in front of her and found a pen. She then gently took your left hand and wrote her number on it. Your heart raced at the first physical contact with her. 
“I’ll be waiting for your text… or call.” Elli winked at you before jogging towards the door, leaving you dumbfounded.
After the class, you decided to meet up with your friends at one of your favorite cafes. Today is the perfect day to get a nice cup of warm coffee since it’s somewhat windy outside. And maybe, the drink can give you something to wake you up from looking at the number at your hand. 
“What’s that?” Abby asked at the digits in your palm, causing you to jump at her voice. Her brow rose when she looked at you. She finished placing the drinks and food on the table, and you immediately got yours and took a sip of it.
“Whose number was that? You can’t stop looking at it ever since we got in here.” Nora pointed out.
You cleared your throat. “Ellie.”
“Williams?” Abby asked curiously. “Didn’t know you two have any contact.”
“Well, I told you all before that she is my seatmate in History class. But, I don’t know, she tried talking to me yesterday.” You shrugged, picking up a piece of the red velvet cake.
“Maybe she’s playing games with you,” Nora said.
“Come on, Ellie probably thinks she’s amazing.” Abby defended.
Nora rolled her eyes, “Abby, Ellie was a notorious playgirl. She wouldn’t talk to y/n just to be friends. And besides, I don’t think that was in her vocabulary.”
“Woah,” You chuckled. “Where does this grudge from her is coming from?” You threw your hands up in the air.
“Oh, so you don’t know how many girls have been crying and fighting each other because of her? Ellie is a heartless person who doesn’t care about someone’s feelings, and everyone is still blinded by it because of how she looks. Y/n, you should be careful because I think you’re her new target.”
“You shouldn’t scare her,” Abby said.
“I’m not. I’m just stating facts.” 
You sighed, heavily while looking at your hand once again. 
Nora has a point, but you still want to give Ellie the benefit of the doubt. She wouldn’t do that to you, right?
Right?
You were walking back and forth in your small room while looking at your right palm, and holding your phone on the other. You still have a lot of free time tonight since all of your school works and backlogs were done, so, you were now contemplating whether you should call Ellie or not.
I mean, you completely understood Nora’s complaints about Ellie since the rumors aren’t new about her. Sure, she’s a Casanova, but the thing is, you won’t even dare fall in love with her – let alone be one of her girls. You were just a kind student who wanted to help her classmate in a subject where you excelled. So, what’s wrong with that?
“Ugh.” You grunted while shutting your eyes tightly. You flopped down the bed before you quickly dialed the number.
“Hello?” Ellie’s raspy voice filled your room. You immediately sat down in your bed when she answered. You can hear loud music in the background, and a few people shouting and giggling. You figured out that she’s at a party. A girl asked Ellie where she was going but you couldn’t pinpoint what she answered because it was chaotic. “Who’s this?”
“It’s… Y/n. I- I’m sorry, is this a bad timing?” 
“Oh. Oh! Y/n? Is it actually you?” She asked, voice rising with excitement. 
“Yeah, I called to ask if you want to study tonight but clearly, you had other plans now, so let’s just do it some other time.” 
Ellie managed to scramble outside the house where she was partying even though it was a real struggle. After a long day of practicing, Ellie and her teammates got invited to a house party hosted by someone she couldn’t even remember the name of. Being stressed for a whole week, Ellie wanted to have some little fun for tonight. And besides, she wants to divert her attention in the meantime, rather than looking at her phone stupidly for the rest of the day which Dina pinpointed.
Ellie immediately shook her head at what you said as if you could see her right now. “No, no, it’s fine. I was just actually hanging around there, not drinking or anything.” She lied. 
“Really?” You don’t sound convinced by her answer. “Well, I’ll text you the address of my boarding house if you’d like.”
“Yes. Please. Thank you so much. I’m on my way.” Ellie said quickly before running towards her big bike. She ended the call, put her phone on her jeans, put on her helmet, and started the engine. 
“Where the hell are you going?” Riley shouted from the window.
“To study!” Ellie exclaimed before driving away.
Riley and her teammates looked at each other with a frown and a clueless stare. “Studying?” They all asked themselves in unison.
Because there is no way, Ellie would’ve left a party. 
And in her whole life, Ellie never even studied.
So, why is she leaving a party just to study?
After Ellie said that she was outside your room, you didn’t expect that she’d show up at your windows.
“Oh, my goodness!” You exclaimed in pure shock. “What are you doing in there?” You said before opening up the sliding windows. 
Ellie threw her backpack filled with snacks on the floor before she completely entered. She managed to change her alcohol and cigarette-scented shirt into a decent one just to make herself presentable to you. 
“Your landlady says it’s past curfew so she can’t let me in, so I managed to climb through your windows.” Ellie shrugged. 
“You could fall.”
“But I didn’t, so…” Ellie flashed her charming smile before scanning your room.
It is warm and cozy. It is filled with plants and different vintage collections. Ellie noticed at least five different lamps open and candles lit to give some light in your room. It is very neat, well well-decorated, and it smells really good. 
“I didn’t know vinyl still existed.” Ellie pointed out the small drawer of yours filled with different types of vinyl. Ellie walked to it and saw a vintage turntable. “This still works?” She asked.
“Oh, yes, it’s not quite as popular as it was before, but it still works.” You grabbed one and put it on the player to show her. Ellie’s brows rose and her mouth formed into a small ‘o’ when the music started filling the air.
“Guns and Roses. Classic.” She said when she heard the familiar sound.
You looked at her with a smile on your face. “You know that band?”
“Yeah, Joel - uhh, my guardian, he used to play their songs every single day to the point that he even wanted to try to learn it on the guitar.” She smiled and turned to you. 
“You know how to play guitar, too?” 
“Oh, a little.” Ellie chuckled. “I never really had any practice, unless it’s in a summer break.” 
“That’s nice.” You nodded thoughtfully.
“You really like collecting such antique things, huh?” Ellie picked up a small bunny ceramic.
“It’s like a small hobby I’d like to do from time to time. It’s really fun going to different antique or thrift stores trying to find something you’d like. And besides, I really like older things because of their intricate designs and very pretty artworks.” You explained. “Look, all of those artworks on my wall are all thrifted, even its frames.” You pointed.
Throughout the night, you two did study. You helped Ellie with understanding all the topics that she was struggling. You were surprised with how quickly she can memorize everything, leading you down to the conclusion that Ellie is smart, she’s just lazy. 
The two of you would take breaks in between as Ellie insisted because she can’t focus if they’re going to study for hours with no breaks. You obliged. Ellie then would ask you different things about your room, asking what you’d like the most in it, and you would explain and show her those things. Ellie asked you more about yourself, wanting to get some information while at it as her mind starts plotting what you love, and where she can take you out for a date.
You were talking about the things you love, and there was that spark in your eyes that Ellie couldn’t look away from. You were so immersed in telling her something, and Ellie got lost by looking at your face.
Time passed and the two of you didn’t seem to notice. It’s like the two of you are in your bubble that no one could even interrupt. Not even the storm, or the loud buzzing of Ellie’s phone because of her friends asking where she went. Tonight, it’s just you and her. 
“I’m nervous about the quiz,” Ellie says as the two of you are walking through the hallways. 
“I’m sure you’ll do great.” You looked at her and gave a warm smile.
“I don’t know what’s with that subject, but I always fail every quiz in that class. It’s like someone has put a curse on me or something.”
“Mrs. Garcia is a great teacher, but yes, I do get that her voice is so calm which is why many students are too sleepy to pay attention to her.”
Ellie chuckled. “Yeah, the only thing that I can see in her class was her boobs whenever she bows down to get something on her bag on the floor. It’s fucking distracting.”
You laughed, harder than Ellie thought you would’ve, making her look at you with an amused smile. “Fuck yeah. I thought I wasn’t the only one who noticed.”
Ellie stared at you for a moment, she started questioning Alex in her mind saying that you are straight and making her think that there isn’t even the slightest bit in your body that is gay. Your reaction to what she said makes her think about your sexuality, Ellie wants to ask, but she doesn’t want to overstep her boundaries. 
Ellie shook her head, wanting to keep her thoughts at bay. Instead, she changed the topic. “We have a football practice at 3:00 PM and I was wondering if you want to watch it…?” She looked at you with a sheepish smile.
“Were the girls watching you play weren’t enough?” You joked.
“There aren’t. Wait, you really think that I’m a playgirl?”
“Aren’t you?” You asked back with a small frown on your face. “I don’t think that you’re a playgirl, I know you are. Everyone does. I mean, my friend doesn’t even know why you’re talking to me in the first place.” You shrugged before looking away.
Ellie was staring at you really hard, wanting you to look at her but you wouldn’t, so she sighed dejectedly. She stopped in her tracks and held your arms to also make you stop. 
“How can I prove my sincerity to you?” 
You bit your lips as your hands gripped the strap of your bag tightly. You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Ellie. We’re not friends or anything more.”
“What if I want you to be?” 
Your gaze fell on hers with a shocked look on your face. “What?”
“I want to be your friend, Y/n.”
You stared at her for a moment, weighing your feelings. You were used to people coming up to you and asking to be their friend. After all, everyone finds you nice and adorable. You loved friendly interactions, and never once have been doubting someone’s intentions. However, there is a huge factor when Ellie is the one who’s doing it — yes, Nora is right. Her lifestyle is much different than yours, and Ellie Williams’ reputation is not quite good. Everything about you two wouldn’t even intersect, and this is all new. Everything about here seems… artificial.
But then again, you took a look in her face, and gosh… how can you resist that? 
So, you slowly nodded. Mumbling a small ‘fine’ under your breath is something that almost made Ellie want to jump in joy.
It’s playtime.
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taglist: @liasxeatt @darkerstarsstuff @amberputh @bready101 @teawithnosugar @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliewilliamgfooc
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hauntedrain · 1 month
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Part 3: Unexpected | Max Verstappen x Fem Reader |
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✮▹A/N: So sorry for not posting life has been BUSY. Hope you like this though, its potentially the last or second to last part of this series.
✰▹Warnings/Notices: use of pictures of Max and kelly. Pretty big time skip from part 2. NOT EDITED.
Part 2: Here!
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liked by MaxVerstappen, Mclaren, Y/N L/N & 17,567,577 others
F1: Its race day!!!! follow the link in bio to keep up live!
click to view all 11,245,578 comments
Y/N has posted to their story!
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MaxV1Updates: Max has been spotted with content creator Y/N L/N. Both had social media thrown through a loop after their interactions with each other online a few months back. Is Y/N officially the newest addition to the F1 WAG's?
view all 6,786,667 comments
user1: OMFG Y/N
user2: Im actually crying wtf.
user3: Im sorry but this is straight out of the book oml.
↪ user4: No cuz its so cute and so unexpected too.
Y/N: Damn ive made it on a f1 updates page. IM WINNING.
↪ user5: MOTHER EXPLAIN.
↪ user 6: I was surprised too.
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Liked by Y/N L/N, MaxVerstappen1, F1, and 12,577,697 others
RedBull: Another win in the books! Lovely and successful race today. Getting ready for next weekend!
click to view all 7,567,567 comments
user10: PLZ LET THE OTHERS CATCH UP PLEASE.
Theo: Tu–tu–du–du Max Verstappen
↪ Lorelei: Let's shake it to the max Put your hands up, hands up Take it to the max
↪ Y/N: Please stop ive heard that non-stop since I've learned about f1
Y/N: he's a cutie tbh.
↪ user11: Y/N your on main stop.
↪ Y/N: posting this on every platform brb.
↪ RedBull: Glad to know you find our driver cute.
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liked by Theo, Lorelei, MaxVerstappen1 & 23,345,567 others
Y/N: Middle slide him and I?
click to view all 12,345,423 comments
user12: GURL PLEASE JUST CONFIRM IT PLEASE
user13: im sorry but how tf did she come from just making videos with her friends for fun to potentially dating a 3x WDC?
↪ Y/N: Its called being Y/N. its a lifestyle !
↪ user14: LMFAO
MaxVerstappen1: she's kinda a cutie tbh.
↪ Y/N: first time ive ever seen you say cutie.
↪ MaxVerstappen1: Yeah and its the last time
↪ user15: PARENTS
Y/N has posted to their story! Max Verstappen has posted to their story!
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liked by Y/N, RedBull, Lorelei, Theo, & 26,456,567 others
Maxverstappen1: First personal post in a while huh? anyways lovely view on slides 2 & 3.
click to view all 14,345,764 comments
user19: Y/N Y/N MY WIFE
↪ Y/N: I had no clue I was married but sure.
user20: THE VIEW.
user21: PLEASE WHAT. SADAITE ME BEFORE I GO FERAL.
↪ MaxVerstappen1: Oh.
↪ Y/N: um. okay !
user22: im sorry but this is so cute like wtf. she makes max not look like mad max.
↪ Y/N: did you ever think he was? He's the biggest dork to walk this earth.
↪ RedBull: As having to be around him 24/7, I can back this claim up.
↪ user23: REDBULL PLEASE DO A VID WITH Y/N PLEASE. IT WOULD BE GREAT CONTENT.
↪ Redbull: Working on it right now
↪ Y/N: CAN I BE THE SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGER FOR A DAY PLEASEEEEEEEEE.
user24: max hard launching?
Max Verstappen has gone live!
Y/N L/N has gone live!
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ taglist: @holy-macncheese-balls @loloekie @cherry-piee @bloodyymaryyy @mangotaitai @the-untamed-soul @trouble-sistar @stinkyjax @minkyungseokie @weekendlusting @m0cha-bunny @formulanni @alex0808 @charizznorizz @imsiriuslyreal @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @67-angelofthelordme-67 @eugene-emt-roe @moonyzsworld @lpab @evie-119
Comment if you wanna be tagged (for what I believe is the last part) <3
⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING, I had so much to do but hopefully you like potentially the last or second to last part of this series. love you guys and thank you so much. Much love.
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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months
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Arrowhead Jr ||One Shot
New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!
Summary: Daryl has baby fever
This was a request on my old blog: "ever since i saw daryl holding baby judith ive dreamt about him having absolute baby fever w reader and after babysitting him pestering reader about one?"
18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: Profanity, birth, babies, mostly fluffy
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        "Check this out." Daryl said excitedly, holding up a camo onesie he found. You were on a small run with a few others in search of some new clothes for little Judith, since she had outgrown most of the ones she had. 
        "This is for newborns." You told him, taking the tiny outfit out of his hands.
        "I know.." He shrugged, taking it back and setting it down. 
        "Oh, god. Don't start." You begged. "Not again."
        You had been with him since the prison, after Woodbury fell. You were one of the many refugees Rick had taken in after the town fell apart, and the archer took a liking to you from the beginning. You guessed it was partially due to your friendship with his morally-gray brother before his unfortunate passing, but it was mostly just because you were you. He loved you for it. However, recently, with the safety of Alexandria's walls, he somehow caught one of the scariest diseases; Baby Fever. Especially after the two of you spent a day watching her so Rick could work and Carl could go do normal teenager things for a change.
        "Not startin' nothin." He mumbled.
        "No, but you're doing that thing again!" You argued.
        "What?" He shrugged.
        "That! The sad face and the--"
        "That place is perfect." He explained. "The--"
        "I know, I know. The big walls and the pretty houses and the people and the--"
        "I see you with Judith. I see how you look at her, how you rub her nose to get her to fall asleep and all them lil songs ya sing when she cries."
        "So what are you saying?"
        "Just that we could." He admitted. 
        "Just 'cause we could doesn't mean we should." You sighed
        "I know that, it's just... I wanna."
        "Well that's easy to say when you don't have to carry and birth a child to get one." 
        "Forget it." He huffed.
        The rest of the trip was in silence, and not the comfortable kind you so often shared. You were both frustrated. Him, because ever since he held Judith for the first time, when he fed her that first meal she ever had and felt the rush of nurturing a crying, sweet little baby, a hole formed inside him and it grew bigger every day. He never could have seen himself as a family man before that moment, but ever since, it was a primal urge he couldn't resist. To love a woman, to father a child, to protect and provide for his own family. He had already achieved finding a woman worth his affections, which was you, of course, but he still didn't have his own family and it ate him up.
        Your frustrations were sourced elsewhere, though. For one, giving birth sounded absolutely terrifying, especially in a world lacking in hospitals, epidurals, prenatal and postpartum care. You could handle a fair amount of pain, but birth was an entirely different playing field. Not to mention the risks. You had heard what happened to Judith's mom. How could you risk that? How could he expect you to? And that was just the tip of the iceberg. What kind of world would this be for a child? What kind of life would it have? Alexandria was always too good to be true, and sooner or later something would happen, and you'd all be running for your lives again. It was only a matter of time, to you. To be pregnant would mean no more runs, no more fighting, none of the things that made you useful. You'd just be a big burden with swollen ankles.
        You didn't speak when you all arrived back home, or during dinner, or after. It wasn't until you went to take a shower, until you had already stripped down and stepped into the steamy stream of water. He had silently snuck into the bathroom, undressed, and surprised you by pulling the curtain aside and joined you. You had your back turned to him, allowing the water to rush over you and wash away your racing thoughts. He grabbed the bar of soap and lathered it in his hands until he was satisfied, then he began to wash you. You loved when he did that, it was one of your favorite affections he'd show. He always started by massaging your neck and shoulders, then your back, then your arms, and he'd turn you around and work on the front. With little explanation needed, that was his favorite part.
        "Can we at least think about it?" He finally asked, eyes and hands stationed on your bare skin as you watched his face.
        "We can think about it all we want but it doesn't change anything."
        "But this place is safe. And there's a doctor here. And-- Hell, this house alone is more than either of us could've given a kid before the world turned to shit." He argued. You sighed.
        "I just can't shake the feeling that none of this is permanent." You confessed. He stopped washing you for a moment, considering your concerns.
        "What else?" He asked.
        "What else what?"
        "The other reasons. What else?"
        "This place could fall."
        "Don't mean it will."
        "The doctor could die."
        "I'll make sure he don't."
        "There could be complications."
        "That's what the doctor's for."
        "I can't help on runs or fight or--"
        "Got plenty of people that can do that."
        You took a breath. Was he gonna have a rebuttal to each argument you made?
        "Well," you said, "pregnancy makes us crazy."
        "You're already crazy." He smirked. You rolled your eyes.
        "What about medicine? Epidural? You need and anesthesiologist for that and we don't have that which means I'll feel everything and it's gonna hurt!" You rambled. His smirk grew into an amused grin. "What?" You scoffed.
        "You're scared." He said.
        "So what if I am? I should be. You should be. I could die. The baby could die. It could die down the line when we can't protect it--"
        "Now you just insult me. I'd never let a damn thing happen to you or that kid." He snapped. You gritted your teeth together.
        "You can't control everything. What about childbirth? Women died during birth when there were teams of doctors and surgeons. What about now?"
        "You wont." He shook his head. 
        "Why would you want a baby with me anyways?" You groaned. "I don't even like kids!"
        "Now that's just lyin' to yourself, darlin'."
        "Is not!" 
        "Might've been able to convince me if you never let me see you with Lil Ass Kicker, but you're a natural."
        "Jesus. Are you gonna give our baby weird nicknames too?" You asked as the two of you switched sides in the shower so you could was him too.
        "Our baby?" He repeated. You eyes widened.
        "Hypothetically." You corrected. "Our maybe, hypothetical, improbable baby."
        "Nah, I was thinkin' Arrowhead Jr for ours."
        You couldn't help it, you laughed.
        "You're insane." You shook your head, massaging his shoulder with the suds.
        "Look," he sighed. "I'm not gettin' any younger and I want a family. I already got the girl, now I need the girl to have my babies."
        "Babies?!" You gawked. "How many do you expect me to have? I'm not a damn fetus factory I can't just spread my legs and pop them out on a fucking conveyor belt." 
        "I was thinkin' two."
        "Two." You repeated, hoping that hearing the word from someone else would wake him up, maybe make him understand how ludicrous he sounded.
        "Mhm." 
        Guess not.
        "Two!" You said again. "Two babies that you want me to grow and birth."
        "Yep."
        "Do you know what you're asking me to do?"
        "Yeah." He said, turning around to face you. "I'm askin' you to be the mother of my kids and spend the rest of your life with me."
        "Um, the rest of your life. Women live longer than men, statistically speaking."
        "Then think about it. Make the rest of my life mean somethin'."
        "Ugh." You growled. You really weren't going to win this one, no matter how hard you fought. "If you wanted kids so bad why didn't you find someone who had the same goal?"
        "Don't want no one else. Just you."
        "And a kid."
        "Two kids."
        "Let's start with one." You relented.
        He grabbed your face as soon as you spoke the words and kissed you excitedly.
        "Better start workin' on it then." He said, lifting you off the ground and pressing your back to the wall. Things only got steamier from there, and not because of the hot shower.
----
        "Shit!" You whispered, staring down at the third test you'd taken. "Shit shit shit shit!"
        To say it was panic would be an understatement. It was sheer terror. You guessed you knew this was coming but you weren't ready for it yet. The only solace you found was the fact that Daryl would be home soon, and you'd get to see his face light up when you handed him not one, not two, but three positive pregnancy tests.
        He came home shortly after you wiped your tears and pulled yourself together. You were in the kitchen making him a pot of coffee, one that you'd usually share. Yet another thing you wouldn't be able to do for the next nine months.
        You heard the door open, you heard him kick his boots off and set them by the door, and you heard him greet you as he entered the kitchen.
        "Hey." He said casually as you turned to hand him a steamy mug of black coffee, just how he liked it.
        "Hey." You replied, sitting down at the table across from where he took his usual seat. He gave you a weird look when he sat down. He could read you like an open book, and there was very obviously something going on with you that day.
        "No coffee?" He asked, taking a sip of his own. You shook your head. "You okay?" You shrugged. "Talk to me." He said.
        You decided to let him see for himself as you failed to form the words. You were terrified for a lot of reasons, but most of all your pride wouldn't let you say the words, because as much as you hated to admit it, you were also happy. You were happy to make him happy, and you were excited to have someone else to love.
        You reached in your pocket and set the first test on the table. He stopped blowing on his coffee and stared at it for a moment before looking back to you. Then, you set the second one down. He pushed his eyebrows together, either out of confusion or shock, you weren't sure. Then you slapped the third test down beside the first two. He set his coffee down and stood, leaning over them to examine them. You realized he probably didn't know what a single line versus a double line meant, so you gave him a second to read the tests before he reacted.
        The second it hit him it showed. His head snapped up at you, eyes wide.
        "F'real?" He asked quietly. You nodded once and he rushed over to your side, gripping your cheeks between his hands and kissing you over and over and over. You couldn't help but chuckle as you tried to push him back.
        "Oxygen, Daryl!" You giggled. "The baby needs to breathe!"
        "C'mon. We gotta go tell Carol. And Rick. And Glenn. And Maggie." He rambled on and on, adding names as they popped in his head while he pulled you to your feet and ushered you to the door.
        "Daryl!" You protested. "Wait I need shoes!"
---
        You could barely hear Carol as she coached you through pushing with each contraction. The pain was insane and Daryl's hand was probably broken after you had been squeezing it so hard. Denise, the new doctor after Rick may or may not have killed the last one, was also talking you through, sending encouraging words as the baby's head made an entrance.
        "Okay. Breathe. Breathe. One more big push." Carol cooed to your right as Daryl encouraged you from the left.
        "C'mon, (Y/N), you're kickin' ass." He said. Admittedly he spent most of the time it took you to get to this point silent, shock written all over his face. He had no idea how to help you through this, he realized, but he fed off Carol's energy and began to give small words of encouragement when he heard Denise say she could see the baby's head.
        When the next contraction hit, you screamed in agony, pushing with all your might, just like Carol told you. 
        "It's just like doing a sit up."
        You could feel when the baby was out, but you were so exhausted your head just fell back on the pillow as you caught your breath. It wasn't until you heard the baby cry that you looked down at Denise to see her wiping the baby clean and wrapping it in a blanket. She walked over and set the baby down on your chest. "Skin to skin contact is important." She told you, before looking over to Daryl. "For you too, if you want to take your shirt off."
        Daryl was too stunned, just watching in awe as you stared down at your crying newborn baby with admiration. It took him a minute, and a little nudge from Carol who had walked over to his side, before he snapped out of it and leaned in close to you. He got a good look at the baby before he asked, "Boy or girl?"
        "Boy." Denise smiled. She was ecstatic, having successfully aided in the birth of your child.
        "We have a son." Daryl laughed, although it was more of a happy cry. He wiped a tear from his eye as he stood up and removed his shirt, holding his arms out in hopes you'd let him hold his boy.
        "Yeah, we do." You grinned, giving your baby a kiss on the head before you passed him over to his father.  Daryl was breathless as he scooped the infant into his arms, bouncing him and whispering sweet nothings.
        "Hey, little Arrowhead." He laughed. He had called him that for the entire pregnancy.
        "I was thinking about naming him (name of your choice). What do you think?" You asked.
        He nodded and kissed little (baby name). 
        "Hey, (baby name). I'm your daddy."
467 notes · View notes
verysium · 5 months
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This is such crack brain fart idea 😶
What if some blue lock boys ask the reader what brand her shoes (or something dumb like that) over text and reader sent them a voice message on text and it’s just:
“Hi baby, okay so the brand is—- *insert car accident noises*”
Have you seen those TikToks???
If you do this request, it can be any blue lock boys you want
HELPPP i saw something similar on hinge, and i was hunched over the side of my bed laughing for like 20 minutes. in general, i don't think pranks with any of the bllk boys would go well (unless you wanted to be punted like a football, american-style) but i'm taking a risk today, so here you go:
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sae sees through your bullshit in a peloponnesian minute. he has morning practice, three interviews, and a daily nap to get to, so what makes you think he has time for you to fake a car accident? leaves you on read. (brutal, i know.)
rin is mildly concerned, but he's too smart to fall for whatever prank you have planned. he'd probably reply with a sarcastic, dry ass response or a deadpan emoji. refuses to talk to you for the rest of the day because what if you actually got into a car accident? he would lose all sanity. tbh he can't stand it when people make light of serious situations even if it's just a lighthearted joke.
kaiser is petty. he sends you an official funeral invite titled "in loving memory of y/n." he personally designed it in photoshop and even added those tacky glitter rose GIF animations on the front. coincidentally, everyone in your immediate circle also happened to receive the same mass email chain with those invites, so you had to explain to your family, friends, and co-workers that (1) you did not in fact die in a car accident and (2) your funeral is not set for the 15th. (you never played a prank on michael again.)
isagi freaks out. he's calling 911/119, whatever emergency service there is. immediately calls you and nearly breaks down in fear of losing you. when you tell him it was merely a prank, he laughs in relief but internally he's cursing you out with every colorful name in existence.
ness is isagi but even more high-strung. there is no time to call the ambulance in his mind. he's already thundering down the highway looking for the evidence of your car wreck. calls you and screams ballistically into the speaker: "WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU?" so yeah....don't ever play a prank on ness. it's for your sake, not his.
shidou takes you up one notch and sends a picture of himself in the emergency room with a cast on his leg and an IV drip. this spawn of satan took your message literally and decided to copy you and got into a real car accident. so now you have to take time off work and sign the hospital discharge papers because he listed you as his sole emergency contact.
nagi doesn't give a shit. he's already chronically online, and reo's played pranks on him before. probably texts you an "ok" and then tells you he's run out of toilet paper again, so you need to stop by the store to buy some.
reo matches your energy. he replies with: oh yeah, i've heard of that brand. it's the—*insert sound of trucks colliding and screeches across asphalt* you both had a good laugh after.
ok that's all i have for now. this is going to reach a very niche demographic, but you're welcome.
721 notes · View notes
prettyboykatsuki · 10 months
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WON'T YOU LEND ME YOUR FAITH? | R. ITOSHI
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❁ tags ; fem!reader (reader dresses femininely + is referred to as a girl / with she/her pronouns), reader is shorter than rin , strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, getting together, rin is soo teenage boy (and makes some annoying teen-boy comments), slow-burn, making out is as suggestive as this gets, stereotypical shoujo romance, usage of honorifics, coming of age
❁ wc ; 21.4k (insane. most insane thing ive ever seen)
❁ a/n ; i'm genuinely appalled by the length of this fic. how did that happen. what in the world. this fic is truly just. every single shoujou manga trope crammed into one okay. my silly little self indulgent romance !!!!
also this fic is sfw + takes place in their third of hs so im not gonna say mdni that's silly. however if you're a minor please do not follow me i post heinous dark content and this fic is a fluke in the timeline dskffjkfd
❁ synopsis ; the love story of a sensitive, stoic soccer player and an eccentric wannabe journalist
or that time you confess to itoshi rin, knowing he'll reject you, and asking to befriend him in spite of it.
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“I like you,” 
A breeze of wind passes.
“What?” 
You confess to Itoshi Rin at the start of the Spring semester. On the school rooftop with your head down. Bent at a near ninety degrees as you hold out what looks like a love letter.
For a minute, he can’t do anything more than stare. He’s received countless confessions in highschool. Half of which he rejected immediately, not even stopping to hear the full extent of their feelings. Why would he? The lukewarm ideas of first love had never been of interest. Even before his fight with Sae, Rin was always focused on his goals. 
After his second year of high school was spent in Bluelock, Rin has only returned for his third. He promised his parents he’d graduate properly, and Bluelock was off-season until Ego could fully prepare for the next stages. 
And a lot has changed since then. But some parts of him, namely his feelings towards the idea of conventional relationships, haven't changed at all. 
It’s only been a little less than three weeks since school had started, and by now he’s received more confessions than he can really remember. All of which he’s rejected coldly, and blankly, because Itoshi Rin has never been in the business of coddling anyone. Most of those girls he’s never even met. Knows nothing about them because they’re first or second years he’d never even spoken to. 
Rin, however, does know you. You’ve been in his class in all 3 years of his highschool, and he’s seen you around more than once. You’re in the newspaper club, which he remembers because you covered their winning match back when Rin was a first year. He wouldn’t call you friends, but you’ve spoken to each other enough that he can remember your name with a little effort. 
He also  remembers you being sort of annoying. You’re one of those loud and earnest types that he can’t stand. 
A year ago, Rin would’ve denied knowing you at all. But now that things with Sae have cleared up just a little - he’s not inclined to take his anger out on you. He knows you. Not well, but enough.
And if his reputation precedes him at all, then you know Rin too. You know that he’s never once gone out with a single girl in his 3 years of highschool and that most of the guys in all three grades consider him an arrogant jerk. You know that he mostly plays soccer alone during breaks and that he only really hangs out with one person. 
Which means you must know that he doesn’t harbor any feelings for you. And that he’s going to reject your confession without thinking twice about it. 
In the first place, he was just curious if you were stupid enough to do it. If you really called him up here for a roof-top confession. The fact that you were is what’s stifling him. Your words are familiar. He’s heard them so many times. But it’s baffling. It’s ridiculous. 
You lift your head to face him. You’re still smiling, though there’s something more there that he can’t understand. He doesn’t do well with people like you begin with. He finds himself backing away when you jog up closer towards him. 
He’s taller than you, he notices. You pick your head up to look at him and smile, toothy and at ease. You hold the letter up again and shove it towards him, though you don’t seem like you’re expecting him to take it. He stares at you. 
“I like you,” You repeat, smooth and bubbly. He frowns. 
“I don’t like you.” 
He has expectations for this part. Normally he receives a saddened look like a dog whose tail he stepped on or a fit of crying (sometimes genuine, sometimes with the intent of guilt.) Sometimes he gets an awkward smile trying to seem unbothered by the whole situation. 
You don’t falter though. You don’t even flinch at the words, cold as ice and steely. It throws him off. 
“I know,” You say back,  prying the letter away from him. You turn the other way, walking towards the metal grates and for a minute Rin wonders if you’re going to do something drastic. You don’t though, instead sticking your the paper in the air “That’s why I have a proposal,” 
He stares, absolutely dumbfounded. You turn again towards him. 
“I want to get to know you. And keep confessing to you,” You say first, and Rin immediately goes to reject you until you put your hands up “And I want you to keep rejecting me.” 
He’s baffled. Really. 
“What?” 
“So I can gradually lose my feelings for you. Nothing that different on your end, honestly..” 
It sounds annoying. It really does. If it were anyone else, under any other circumstance he would scoff and tell them to deal with their own shitty feelings alone just like everyone else. But there’s no hidden intention there. Rin’s always been good at sniffing that out. Your words are pure as can be.
Frustratingly simple and twice as sincere, no matter how confusing the whole thing is. 
“Why should I?” 
“We can be friends,” You reply like it’s the best deal he could ask for. “Isn’t that enough? Not like you really have any right now.” 
He scoffs bitterly albeit he can’t counter you. 
“Friendship is lukewarm. I don’t care about any of that stuff,” 
“Lukewarm? Really? Then..think of it like I’ll be your shield. You hate when people socialize with you right? I’ll help you deal with it.” 
That doesn’t sound too bad actually. On top of that, he’s kind of curious what your deal is. He rolls his eyes at you, turning to face the other way. 
“Do whatever you want. It’s not like it matters.” 
His response makes you beam. He hears you shout from the otherside of the yard, followed by the sound of your footsteps noisily thudding against the concrete as you try to catch up with him. He walks faster than you just to spite you for earlier, but he hears your last words through a huff of breath. 
“Jeez, you’re fast. I’ll see you at lunch, be prepared!” 
Somehow, he feels like he’s crossed paths with something he shouldn’t’ve. 
__
You keep up with your end of the deal with Rin to the best of your ability. 
The upsides of your arrangement is that the usual annoyances Rin has to deal with have decreased significantly in the time you’ve been hanging around him. You’re very good at using your speech to sway conversations one way or the other without upsetting the other party.
Normally, Rin’s rejections for different things leave a bitter taste in the air. He’s never been good at mincing his words for anyone and while it doesn’t affect him - the strange stares and whispers he gets are a little annoying to deal with. People always take his disinterest personally. Rin has always hated that. He was probably a little gentler about the denial before but still. 
While other people are too stupid to pay it any mind, you’re clever at turning the tides your way. You always manage to completely divert their questions without making them feel uncomfortable. Rin has tried, many times, to actually break down how you’re doing it. He doesn’t think he’d ever be able to replicate it, no matter how much he studies you. 
He’s reluctant to admit it, but really, your presence has significantly lowered the number of obstacles in his daily life and made him overall, less irritable. 
Instead of many annoying things, there’s only you. Which is tolerable in comparison. 
You also expect him to uphold his end of the deal. For the most part, this has just meant you inserting yourself into his usual activities. It started out small enough, mostly just you sitting with him during lunch. It draws too much attention to eat in the classroom so you both fuck off to the roof. 
(You often joke about how romantic it is, reminiscing on your rejected first love with as much melodrama as you can muster. 
Rin never laughs about it to your face, but he admits it’s funny. Your stupidity is mildly amusing, at least ) 
There, you eat lunch together. Rin learns you make yourself colorful bentos from time to time- though some days are much less elaborate than others. You like to unwind that way, your designated and nightly me-time. You work part-time, and you take care of your neighbors kids by helping them every morning and night. 
Rin doesn’t ask you for more, not willing to deliberately show interest. 
But you notice his curiosity for better or for worse and explain that she, the woman next door, used to make you dinner back when your parents were too busy. You have an older brother who's nearly twelve years your senior so you were alone for most of your childhood. She had children late, but they feel like your little siblings. So you help them in the mornings and in the evenings when you have time. 
Rin learns you, funnily enough, have a sense of obligation towards other people that he can’t fully comprehend. He forgot there were people like that. In an environment like Bluelock that is so dead set on fostering ego, it’s easy to forget something so simple. 
You haven’t confessed to him again since that time. Not like he’s expecting it, but given your personality he wonders why. He thought it’d be more of a daily occurence, something like a bit you did. But you never do. Even when at times, it’s so heavy in the atmosphere even he can tell you want too. 
Admittedly, Rin wonders a lot more about you than he cares to. He wonders why you spend so much time with him when you have plenty of other friends who seem to cherish you. He wonders why you care so much about the dying club you're in. He wonders if this, in some strange way, stems from some kind of obligation.
He wonders, sometimes, what about him you could even like. It’s probably something stupid. You’d probably think long and hard before going on to say that you like him because he’s handsome or cool. Something shallow and meaningless. 
He tells himself that when he starts thinking about it again. 
__
Rin gets roped into cleaning the classroom with you. 
He’s used to being paired with other people. But he’s never had to do with you before, even in the years prior. Or maybe he did. He doesn’t recall much of his first year. 
Still, now that it’s already mid-May, Rin has never been on cleaning duty with you. He’s conscious of the sound of your name these days. It’s not something he’s happy about. 
It’s a simple affair. Just 15 or 20 minutes. Nothing to talk about. Not really. 
But, today you’re alone with him. Alone in an empty classroom with light pouring through the windows and reflecting off of the wooden desks. You’re busying yourself with wiping down the chalkboard, humming quietly. Rin has the broom and dust pan, slowly working himself towards the front of the room. 
It’s mostly quiet. Just your humming. The soft thud of a dust pan, a gentle brush of the bristle. 
Rin feels a crick in his neck, half-way done with the task at hand. He stares at you, off in the front. In your own little world as you fix everything up diligently without turning your head to look up at him even once. 
The nape of your neck is visible from the way you’re standing. There’s a chain there. Do you wear a necklace under your uniform? He can see the slope of your shoulders. The light reflects on you. 
It stops him dead in his tracks. All he can hear is the quiet. The soft humming of your voice. The thud of the dust pan, the woosh of an eraser. The gentle bristle of a broom. The sound of his own heartbeat, a little louder than it was a minute ago. 
He shakes his head. He goes back to sweeping. 
__
“Why do you look like that?” 
You look depressed. For Rin, this expression on you is unusual. You do look sad sometimes.  Somber, occasionally but the look you have on your face right now is down right harrowing. You’re staring blankly out into the open, sitting in the usual spot the two of you have lunch at. But you’ve hardly touched your food and your favorite juicebox (a lunchtime staple) doesn’t have a straw in it yet. 
It’s freaking him out, quite frankly. He stares at you, waving a hand in front of your face until you click back into reality. You jump in your skin at the sight of him before taking a deep breath once you’ve realized who’s in front of you. 
“Oh. It’s just you. Sorry,” You say, immediately going for your juice. See? “What did you say?” 
He sighs, sitting down next to you with his own lunch. Nothing special, something his mom likes to pack when he’s at home - though he doesn’t often take it. He opens up his own tin, taking chopsticks out attached from the top. 
“I asked why you looked like that.” 
“Like what?” 
“Like someone just died.” 
You look at him morbidly, clasping your hands and leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. 
“My midterm grades,” You say solemnly, voice wavering ever so slightly “They’re detestable. A shame to my bloodline.” 
Rin looks at you plainly. 
“Aren’t you an idiot to begin with?” 
“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m average. Super average. But I scored even lower than usual and I’m concerned. I need to do well on the next one and on my entrance exams.” 
Oh, right. Rin forgot since he has no plans to take any. 
“Do you know what you want to do for college?” He asks, mostly out of obligation. 
“I want to study journalism.” There’s a wispiness to your way of speaking. It gives the air a sentimental feel. “There’s a private university with a good program I want to get into but they’re kind of tough. So I have to focus and do well,” 
“What subject are you struggling with?” 
You deflate all over again. 
“Chemistry and Classical Japanese,” 
Rin does well in both subjects. He thinks it over, and decides he can consider this payback. That’s all it is. He’s never liked owing people for favors and while you say this much is enough - Rin can rest assured about your little deal if he’s actually been of use to you in return. He remains impassive as he takes a sip of water. 
“Do you want me to help you study?” 
You turn to him immediately, suddenly full of life. He doesn’t like the gleam in your eyes, an immediate regret settling in as he stares at you, eyes full of disdain. You don’t hesitate grabbing his hand, putting it to your forehead and bowing deeply as you face him. You’re like a fly that keeps buzzing around him. 
“Are you serious? Really? Forreal? Do you mean it?” 
“If you keep being  a dipshit I’m going to take it back,” 
You pull away, hands folded in your lap, going stone faced.
“I would be very grateful,” You say, hands clasped in front of your face. He rolls his eyes. 
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” He says bluntly, staring out into space “I just don’t want to owe you any favors.” 
This you laugh at, leaning back on the wall behind you - with your legs stretched out. 
“Don’t worry,” You reply, self-assured. “Somehow, you asking me to study with you so innocently really cements it in that you don’t have a shred of affection for me.” 
Something in him stirs. He ignores it. 
“Never in a million years.” 
You laugh light-heartedly. 
“You’re so cold to me, Itoshi-kun.” 
“You still call me that.” He grimaces. You stare at him confused. 
“How else would I call you?” 
“When you use my last name it reminds me of my brother,” 
“...Are you implying I should use your first name?” 
Oh. Shit. That is what he sort of said, isn’t it? 
“No,” He denies, somehow unable to come up with anything worthwhile “Don’t address me at all.” 
“Eh? But that’s impossible? I can try but,” 
Only an idiot like you would think to actually try. He shakes his head. It’s no good after all. 
“Shut up,” He decides, because there’s not anything else he can think to say “We can study at the library.” 
You’re quick to reject the proposal. 
“We have to pick somewhere else. Like a cafe or something,” You say, not looking at him. You have your phone pulled up now, looking for places nearby. He’s lost again. 
“What? Why? Isn’t it easier if it’s at school?” 
You glance over at him wide-eyed, before suddenly smiling. It’s a knowing smile, almost like you feel sorry for him. He wants to ask why you look like that. It’s weirdly guarded and he hates that from you. He stares at you, trying to will you to explain yourself. You’re good at reading his thoughts, frustratingly enough, so he’s not accustomed to asking. 
Which means your lack of answer is deliberate, and even with the pressure he’s putting on you, you don’t budge.
“Trust me on this one,” You voice light and airy. “It’s better if we find somewhere away from school, too. There’s still some time to look, so no rush.” 
He lets it go because he doesn’t have any other choice. Lunch passes and you talk like everything's normal.
The question lingers in the back of his mind. 
__ 
Rin spends most of his time between classes watching soccer. If he has some free time on his day off, he’ll look for a new movie to watch. There’s a new foreign film coming out from a director who he really likes and he’s just finished watching the trailer.
Thirsty, with nothing to do - he stands to his feet and briefly surveys the classroom. He wants a drink and there’s a vending machine down the hallway with a sports drink that tastes like..something. 
His airpods are close to being dead so there’s no music as he makes his way. He’s not a fan of being forced to listen to the chatter of the general populace so it’s not that hard to ignore.  
It catches his attention when he hears your name in passing before turning the corner of the hall. It stops him dead in his tracks, something tense left in the syllables after . He doesn’t know why he stopped, not exactly. He figured it’d be annoying if his presence caused a ruckus. 
He’s used to people talking about you, though they usually describe you as a busybody. The Senpai who’s everywhere. A hand in every jar, or something like that. But there’s a tone to that, mild amusement - never malice, that Rin is more than accustomed to. 
This is not that, he notices. He leans on the wall and listens. A group of girls. Some of the voices he recognizes. They’re from the third year classroom down the hall. 
“It’s like, I don’t know,”  Eto-san, he thinks. She’s come up to him before, more times than he can really count on one hand. Rin knows the type. Kind but not really. To the point it’s hard for anyone to call her out on it. “It’s weird how much she hangs around him. She’s not a bad girl or anything,” 
The addition makes Rin’s eye twitch. Yeah. He’s very familiar with this type. He keeps listening. Another voice, but he has no idea who this one is. 
“Really? But Senpai is pretty kind to me,” 
“Mm, I guess so. I just wonder if it makes Itoshi-kun uncomfortable, you know? With pushy people like that, it doesn’t matter how blunt you are. I just worry about him a bit.” 
If it wasn’t so annoying to listen in, Rin would laugh. He’s never understood girls. Especially not highschool ones. He doesn’t pay attention to that kind of social hierarchical shit to begin with, only forced to acknowledge it because other people do. None of it matters to him.
He does think back to what you said a week ago, about finding a place away from school to study. It clicks. You probably know they talk about you like this. Or you could surmise this outcome. Rin should expect that level of awareness from you. Sincere. Always attuned to everyone. Of course this is something you know but he doesn’t. 
Why didn’t you tell him? That’s annoying. It’s nothing he couldn’t deal with knowing. He would’ve got it if you explained it earlier. 
“Oh wow, you really care about him Eto-san,” 
There’s a soft chuckle that makes Rin annoyed. Is he supposed to feel grateful? They’ve barely spoken to each other.
“It’s not like that. It must be hard since he missed second year, that’s all.” 
With that, Rin decides to turn the corner. 
He’s a little pleased at the reaction. How everyone goes into complete silence when he arrives. He spares her a glance as he moves towards the vending machines, clicking in the buttons. A generic sports drink comes tumbling out of the bottom, and Rin grabs it with deliberate slowness - drawing out the unease. 
Eto-san gives him a blank stare before suddenly looking cheerful. She seems a little panicked, quickly trying to make conversation with him. The words don’t reach his ears as he stares down at her expressionlessly.
“Are you done?”  He says, ice-cold. She stutters at that. Rin suppresses a smile. 
“Oh, uhm, yeah. Sorry, were you busy?” 
“Yeah,” He says back, completely apathetic. 
He doesn’t plan on saying anymore in the first place. The little victories count. 
It does feel like some kind of magic when he hears your voice from the other end of the hallway. You’re practically shouting it, and following is the sound of the hall monitors telling you off for running as you barrel toward him full speed. He can hear the thud of your sneakers all the way till they skid to a stop. 
You’re out of breath, bent over your knees and messy as you put a hand up. Most times, he would be embarrassed. He’d even tell you off for being such an idiot. Right now, he finds the corners of his lips upturned as he stares at you from where you stand. 
“Oh, hey guys. Sorry, I had some business with this guy. Oh, Fujita-chan, your hair is cute today! I like how it looks up on you,”  You say, to the girl who was calling you kind just a minute ago “I hope he wasn’t too cruel to you. He’s actually afraid of women, it’s a generational curse. Every night he turns into a frog and—” 
You shuffle in front him, arms stretched out like a shield. He sticks his leg out and kicks your shin. You yelp in pain. 
“What the hell are you talking about? Shut up.” 
“Ow, you strong bastard. You’re a soccer player, please be more conscious of your kicks. What if you shattered my shin? I know you’re loaded but it’s the principle of the thing, you know—” 
“Stop talking or I’ll kick you a second time.” 
You go silent immediately. 
“Forgive me, Itoshi-sama. I’ve strayed from the path of righteousness. Alas, the people need you.” You say, turning around. 
“Speak clearly.” 
“Homeroom teacher wanted to double check with you about after graduation plans and told me to go get you.” 
“Why you?”
“I was already walking around for the newspaper club.” 
He nods, not needing any more explanation. 
“H-hey, aren’t you acting too friendly with him?” 
So she decided to speak. This makes you falter, just a little, and Rin detests the look of self-satisfaction on her face. He speaks this time. It’s not like he can’t fight any of his own battles. 
“It’s fine,” He says, not bothering to think about it. He looks at you, as you stare back at him where he stands, wide-eyed. Idiot. “I don’t mind.”
You grin at him. Big and rounded and stupid, with all of your teeth like you’re giddy. If the hallway monitor wasn’t up your ass, he figures you’d be skipping about now. You usher him into the hall, back where he came from, waving them off.
“Be seeing you guys, then! Bye!” 
And you’re off. It’s quiet until you’re both completely out of ear-shot. Before he can go any further you stand in front of him, hands behind your back with a dumb look on your face. He already knows what you’re going to say. 
“Hey. I really like you a lot. Just now… my heart was fluttering. I thought I was hallucinating,” 
“You’re a moron,” 
“Ahhh, what should I do? I’m all hot under the collar. Is this what it’s like being a maiden in love? It’s great.” 
“How can you say that knowing I’ve already rejected you?” 
“It’s because you’ve rejected me, I can say that.” 
And Rin doesn't really get it. He’s not sure he ever will. 
But you seem happy enough. He decides against prying. 
__
Somehow, you’ve ended up at Rin’s house. 
He doesn’t know how it happened. Really. 
He mentioned to his mother off-handedly that he needed to help someone study. He should’ve lied about it then, but coming off of running drills makes him pretty stupid. He uses most of his brain power when he trains. So in an altered state of mind due to dehydration, hunger and general exhaustion - he answered  honestly instead of lying. 
You’re helping someone study? Yes, they’re from my class. 
Is it a boy or a girl? A girl. We’re friends. 
You can’t study at the library? She doesn’t want to, so we’re trying to find somewhere else. 
Why not invite her here, if her parents are okay with it? Her parent’s don’t really pay enough attention to be bothered. 
Wait, what is he saying? 
Rin doesn’t know how it happened. Really. Really. He tried pretty hard to reject his mothers advances about the situation but he’s never been one to upset her. The whole thing with Sae really tore her up so they both had a silent agreement to try and get along at home. And since Rin is still living at home for now, he tries harder to listen to her. Even so, he wasn’t planning on yielding for this one. 
Rin is not immune to his mothers guilt. A long lecture about how her only sons never cared about anything but soccer and how she’s worried she’s never going to have grandchildren later, he finally gave in and gave you a call at his dinner table. 
He was hoping you would come through and reject the offer. Say something stupid about how that’s dangerous territory for a young girl in love and let his mom down gently. He forgot about your whole thing about responsibility and being a nice girl who gets along well with adults. 
And now, the door is ringing and Rin knows he’s going to open it to you. He mostly blames himself for not thinking ahead.
Rin opens the door on a Saturday afternoon and the first thing he thinks is that you’re not wearing your uniform. 
You look…different. It’s weird. Your hair is styled in an unusual way, tied with something like ribbon. You’re wearing something flowy and loose but the neck is a little rounder than usual. There’s a necklace there, a heart-pendant with a chain. You have in...earrings. 
Rin thinks vaguely that you look…something. He doesn’t know. But in his vision you’re like a troublesome and amorphous blob that yammers on about nothing. And right now you look…not like that. 
“You’re dressed up.” Are the first words to come out of his mouth. You blink at him owlishly.
“Oh. Yeah. I wanted to make a good impression on your mom so I tried not to look sloppy.” You say sheepishly. He leans against the doorframe. 
“She doesn’t care about stuff like that.” 
“Well I do, okay? Now, can I come in?” 
“The white slippers are for you.”
He steps aside and lets you in. You have perfect manners. He probably should’ve expected that. You take your shoes off neatly and place them on the rack the same way, slipping your feet into the slippers provided. Rin just watches, eyes tracing the curve of your neck. 
“Where’s your mom?” You ask.
“In the kitchen making dinner. You’re staying for dinner right?” 
You blink at him, surprised. 
“I mean it’s not like I can’t.” 
“She’d be upset if you didn’t.” He says noncommittally before walking you down to the kitchen. 
His mother is right where he expects. He stands in the corner as you shuffle in watching on. She turns around to look at you, wiping her hands on her apron. 
“Oh, my, you must be Rin’s friend? Such a lovely girl. Welcome! Welcome.” 
To this, you bow your head as deep as it can go. The air around you feels serious. Rin scoffs internally. There’s a strange feeling in his chest that he can’t describe, seeing you bowing in front of his mom. An itch he can’t reach, locked tight around his ribs. 
You give his mother your name first and she smiles like she’s absolutely delighted just hearing it. 
“Thank you for having me. I brought some fruit with me as a gift, I hope that’s alright.” 
His mom shoots him a look that Rin deflects by turning away, opening the plastic bag you’ve handed to her. 
“Oh my! Aren’t these expensive fruits? Please thank your parents for me!” 
“Oh no, don’t worry about that. I work part-time, so I paid for them myself. It was the least I could do. I’m grateful for the tutoring.” 
You tense up, realizing that might’ve been an awkward thing to say. It isn’t. Even if it was, Rin’s mother has always been soft-hearted. His dad tells him they’re a lot alike but Rin doesn’t see it. Whatever it may be, Rin’s mom is too doting and too sociable to let you feel bad. Right now she seems emotional, an expression between empathy and pride. She reaches for you like it’s the most natural thing in the world, patting your head gently.
“How diligent. Thank you, then, for the fruit.” 
Rin can’t see your face but it’s easy to picture. 
“Of course. And pardon the intrusion! And uhm, thank you for having me for dinner.” 
Clumsy. Rin thinks you’re clumsy. A flickering light. His mom laughs brightly and tells you not to worry. She leans in closer like she’s whispering but Rin can hear her loud and clear. 
“Rin can be very brash but he’s a good boy, so thank you for being kind to him.” 
He feels embarrassed. Even readies himself to intervene. 
“He is very kind to me.” 
Wait. What?
His mom smiles even brighter, and mouths something like ‘take care of her’ when you’re not looking. He wants to stop it before it starts. You’re not dating. You’re hardly even friends, you’re just here to study. Rin almost wants to shout it, but he’s stuck. Before he can do any of that, you’re turning around and smiling like you haven’t said anything strange. 
What do you mean he’s kind to you? When his whole thing is rejecting you mercilessly? Being cruel?
What kind of person would ever describe him as kind? 
He can’t find the words he wants to say, so he takes you to his room in silence. 
__
You both make it to Rin’s room in one piece.
You’ve been studying now for about an hour. Given your personality, Rin was expecting more of a fuss. He thought you’d make some comment about being in a boys room and then fight off the actual studying like the plague. 
Much to his surprise, you started studying with him right away. Rin tries his best to tutor you, though he does make fun of you in the process. But you’re a try-hard all the same, stopping only to ask questions and get clarification occasionally.
You’ve been focused that whole time, miraculously enough. Rin studies too, but only a bit, after deciding to study some recent matches instead. 
( Every now and again, he’ll glance at you. Just to see if you’re stuck or still working. Each time, he gets caught up on the fact you’re not in your uniform and has to tear his eyes away. ) 
After a bout of silence, you yawn out loud, quietly shutting your workbook. 
“I’ve finished all my practice problems for today,” You announce, before deciding to lay down on his floor “I’m beat.” 
“I thought you were gonna give up before you started.”  Rin admits. You frown at him. 
“I was serious about needing tutoring. Thanks for all your help.” 
“I already told you it’s fine. Is there anything else? Finals are next week.” 
You shake your head. 
“Mm, I don’t think so. One of the guys from the newspaper club helped me with math so I’ll be okay.” 
…Huh? 
“From the newspaper club?” 
“Huh? Yeah. Murata-senpai. We’re in the same year. He’s a few months older so he insists on making me call him Senpai.” 
“And he helped you with math?” 
“Yeah. He was a delinquent like, all of first year but he really cleaned up his act. He’s actually really gentle.”
Rin frowns at that. 
“Do people usually describe delinquents as gentle?”  
You make a noise of indignance from where you’re laid on his floor. 
“Hey. Murata-senpai is really nice, okay? And he is gentle, so I won’t tolerate your usual judginess.” 
Rin rolls his eyes. 
“How’d you even meet him?” 
“Uh…I wanted to write a column about him, basically. He was helping in the garden last year and I kinda…stalked him. It sounds worse than it is. I just wanted to know what made him change.” 
“So stalking people is pretty typical for you.” 
You sit up and gape at him. Rin suppresses a laugh. 
“Anyways. I eventually flagged him down for an interview. Apparently, he had a real scare with his granny getting sick and decided he needed to cut the shit. He’s a good guy. He joined the newspaper club after the interview,” 
“After the interview…?” 
You nod, leaning forward with your elbows on the table in front of you. 
“Uh-huh. Said he was interested because of my passion or something. He’s been really nice to me ever since and helps me with all of the ideas I have.” You soften as you talk about it. Rin feels an ugly emotion in his chest “I’m worried about what will happen to the club after graduation, but Senpai is always encouraging me to make the most out of the time we still have. So I’m really thankful for him. That’s why you have to be nice.” 
Rin is super annoyed. He doesn’t know why he’s so annoyed but he is. How do you not realize this guy likes you? He doesn’t know why he’s opening his mouth to tell you what’s so obvious. It’s not like it really matters. Rin doesn’t like you in the first place, so if he informs you that your beloved Murata-senpai has feelings for you - it’s no big deal. 
In fact it might be better for everyone if you realize. He’s just frustrated by how clueless you can be sometimes. 
“He’s interested in you,” Rin says, against his better judgment. It feels like the words are welling up in his throat “Your senpai or whatever.” 
You blink at him stupidly. He wonders if you’re wearing mascara. 
“Huh? I doubt that somehow. Senpai is kind to me but I think he sees me like a little sister.” 
He scoffs at you. 
“You would think that. Most guys aren’t just nice to girls they don’t like.” 
“Not everyone is like you, yanno.” You say back without thinking twice. That’s not the point this time, he wants to say. And he’s right for this one. Anyone else with half of a brain would realize. You’re just… you. Which means you’re absolutely unaware of things pertaining to you. It’s the only reason he can think you’d deny something so obvious. 
The only reason you could come to the house of a boy you liked just to study. 
“Shut up. I’m saying this because you’re too much of a dumbass to put it together on your own. The guy definitely likes you.” 
“I didn’t know you were a love guru,” You say sarcastically, sticking your tongue out at him. Childish. Annoying “It doesn’t matter if he does.” 
“Why wouldn’t it matter?” 
You give him an incredulous look. 
“Unfortunately my heart is captured by an aloof sportsman.” 
He doesn’t know why he feels relieved when you say that. He feels his heart all the way in his throat like he’s going to throw it up, even though his expression remains impassive. 
“You already know I don’t like you, though. It’s a good opportunity, isn’t it? Don’t a lot of people move on that way.”
You shake your head. 
“I’m not that sort of wishy-washy woman.” You reply, huffing your chest up and trying to ease the tension. You stop to shake your head, a small smile on your face. “You wouldn’t get it even if I explained.” 
“It’s annoying when you do that,” Rin voices, not bothering to cut it any other way “You did that with the girls at school too. I’m never gonna get it if you don’t bother explaining it to me.” 
You soften at this, then whisper. 
“...Why do you care?” But it’s not said with any malice. It’s not said sadly either. Just curious. He freezes, but doesn’t let it show. He wants to ask himself the same question. 
“I don’t. It’s just,” And he scoffs, not looking at your face “It’s a pain.” 
You hum, not expecting more of an answer. 
“I want to treasure my own feelings towards you,” You say, and something in Rin feels like it’s being set on fire. “It’s not just about having a boyfriend. If it was, then I’d consider Senpai's feelings.” 
“...So it’s about me, specifically?” 
“Yeah,” You say without offering any more explanation than that “It is. I like you.”
The words but why, linger in the air. You seem to be feeling merciful, as you lean back on your palms and stare up at his ceiling. You wear your heart outside of your body, more often than not. And he thinks that part of you is so hard to get used to. 
“You’re really awkward. And aloof. And you don’t have any friends.” 
“Is this some kind of revenge or…?” 
“But. You’re also sensitive. The more I know you, the more I think you’re kind and well-meaning. You uh, remind me of a cat.” 
He blinks. 
“A cat?” 
“A cat. Sometimes they want their own space. And sometimes they knock your water off your desk for fun. Plus they only really care about people in their own circle,”
“Again, is this—” 
“Let me finish, jeez. They’re solitary creatures. But like when they accept you, they get comfortable. An’ nice . And they look out for you in their own way. To me you’re a lot like that.” 
You give him a smile so warm it makes his back hot. So loud and so vibrant like it burst out of him at any minute. 
“I’ve uh, always been interested in you. I watched you play in Bluelock too. I kept thinking to myself, there’s something about you. I want to know more, even if it’s just a little. Stuff like that.” You talk so quietly yet it’s all Rin can hear. All Rin can see in his vision is you. All Rin can think about is you. “I’ve always been interested in other peoples stories.  So I thought, what a waste it would be, to throw away that feeling because of something like love or like. I thought, ‘What's your story, Itoshi Rin?’” 
Rin doesn’t know what to say so he chooses to say nothing. 
“When I confessed, I knew you would never like me. Because that’s just the sort of person everyone says you are. Still, what a waste, right? You miss all the shots you don’t take or whatever. So, I wanted to get to know you. I guess.”  
“I don’t get it. I get what you’re like but it still doesn’t make any sense. There’s nothing special to know, is there?” 
“Feeling that is special, don’t you think? That’s a special reason to me.” 
He doesn’t follow. You laugh lightly. 
“If I never became interested in Murata-senpai’s story, I would’ve never been his friend. If I gave up on trying to know you, just because you didn’t return to my one-sided feelings, then I would’ve never gotten to know you either. Don’t you think that’s a waste?” 
Rin doesn’t know. He’s never really cared about it. He’s rejected so many confessions and never once thought enough about any of them in any depth. That part of you is foreign. He can chalk it up to a difference in character. He can’t understand wanting to know someone just because. 
(Or maybe he can. He just hasn’t until now. Until this very moment, suspended in time. Where he wants to know what things make you the way you are.) 
Some small, dark part of him wants to ask why. Over and over until his throat feels raw - long enough to understand it. Even as he grips onto that desire so tight, with such bruising force, the words sit in his mouth. They taste like iron. They taste like a bitten tongue. If you’ve watched him all this time, then you know. Being chosen. He’s never been confident in that. Rin wants to ask, why him? 
What’s so special? Enough to keep talking to him? Enough to do any of this? Is getting to know people is always this difficult, he wonders. Does it always feel uncomfortable to be in proximity with someone? 
In the end, he can’t bring himself to ask. He can’t even bear to examine it in himself, the sense of dread washing over him like sickness. He’s nauseous. And this time, there’s a residue of tension he’s finding increasingly difficult to ignore. 
You come through again. He wonders if you can read his mind just like you do with all the nobodies at school. 
“Rin-kun,” You say, your voice like the summer heat. “Getting to know you makes me feel like my feelings aren’t a waste. I’m happy getting to know you. I want to treasure that.” 
What happens when you run out of things to know? The question is too heavy. He settles on a different one. He wants to understand it more. Just to put himself at ease. 
“Isn’t being in the same room with someone who rejected you uncomfortable?” 
“Maybe. But there’s a clear line for me and you, so it’s cool. In like, ten years, maybe someone will interview me about you. As your classmate and stuff. And I’ll go - ‘He’s actually a really nice guy. I actually had a crush on him.’ If I can say that, without being regretful, then that’ll be enough for me.” 
“That’ll be enough for you? Really?” 
“Really.” 
“You’re so weird.” He says, unsure of what else he could possibly say. You giggle, and lay back down on his floor. 
“I knew you’d say that.” 
__ 
Summer comes. 
It doesn’t occur to Rin how often he sees you in school until it all comes to  a halt. He has your number, and you text him often - about unimportant and trivial shit that you think of. In that way, it doesn’t even really feel like you’ve separated. 
But the sudden absence of your chattering in his life makes everything feel especially quiet. Summer is a boring time for Rin. It’s mostly the same. Practicing and playing and studying. On the few occasions he’s been out, it’s because some of the other Bluelock members are gathering and refuse to let him know even a breath of peace.
He’s seen Sae now, though they never really talk about anything. Sort of just look at each other and exchange enough words that their mom doesn’t cry before going back to their room. Sae will be gone before school starts back up again, so Rin isn’t all that worried about it. 
It occurs to Rin for the first time that this summer will be the last of his highschool days. He’s never been sentimental about stuff like that - so he figures you’re to blame for these sudden thoughts. 
Your summer has been a lot busier than his. He should probably expect this from you by now, but your surprisingly youthful social life always shocks him. You’ve been working part-time as usual. In that time though, you’ve also been to the beach and been on an overnight trip to Osaka with your newspaper club. 
(Rin wasn’t happy to hear about this. He was relieved to know it was with a teacher and that you roomed with a girl. But still, not exactly his favorite of anecdotes for the summer.) 
You’ve invited Rin more than once to come hang out with you, but he’s basically always declined. The group setting is troublesome, but being alone with you feels even worse somehow. It wouldn’t be a date, obviously, but it would be something. Something deliberate. 
Rin doesn’t know if he can come see you in good faith for such a reason. 
It’s another day spent doing his usual. Being technical, it’s a rest day, which means he’s only allowed to stretch. He has done his basics. Studied, messed around with his ball, responded to a barrage of texts from Bachira and Isagi. He played games for a while, checking out a new horror game before deciding it’d be best not to get too sucked in so he has something to play next time. 
After all that, during a mid-August day while Rin sits on his couch and watches T.V., he receives a facetime call from you for the very first time. At first, he just lets it ring. But when it keeps ringing - he figures your persistence is going to continue unless he replies. 
He looks around. No one's home, so he doesn’t need to go to his room. He swipes, and the call connects. The screen shows him, propped up against something with a full shot of your room. You’re turned away from the camera. Rin just stares. 
“Oh, shit - did you actually pick up?” 
“Should I hang up.” 
“No! No, I just wasn’t expecting you. Don’t hang up. I need a guy's opinion.” 
“What? What for?” 
“I got in a fight with my brother about a dress I bought,” You say, exasperated, and Rin is surprised because you hardly see him. “I know he’s probably looking out for me but I don’t think we talk enough for him to be telling me how to dress.” 
“He’s older than you, right? Maybe you should listen to him.” 
“You’re the last person I want to hear that from. Either way, I’m not a kid. I’m already 18 and I’m going to college. It’s a cute dress! I feel like it’s fine.”
“So..why’d you call me again?” 
“I’m gonna try it on and show you. Murata-senpai is busy.” 
“You shouldn’t do that to a guy who likes you.” Rin deadpans. You laugh.
“Shut up. I really need an opinion. I wanted to wear it to go out today so if it’s actually too provocative then I have to change my outfit.” 
“Where are you even going?” 
“My friend needs to get a concealer, so probably the mall or something. After that I’ll go buy some stationary.” 
“Alone? What about your friend?” 
“She’s gonna go see her boyfriend.” 
“Why can’t you just go with them? Or ask them to go with you” 
“And third wheel? I’m good. I just need some stationary and then I’ll be home. Easy peasy. Anyway, what’s with the interrogation?” 
“It’s not interrogation.” He insists. You’re offscreen so Rin can’t see you, but he can hear the sound of a zipper echo in the speakers. He’s also sure you’re rolling your eyes. 
When you come on camera, the dress of the hour is on display. Rin’s first thought is to tell you to take it off. It is too provocative to him. The front is fine as is, but it’s nearly backless and it’s cut too high on your thighs. He’s never seen so much of your skin. Maybe that’s a given, since he didn’t go to the beach with you either. 
You give him a quick spin, before patting the front down. You say something, but the words don’t register. It feels like his brain is full of cotton or something. 
“So? Too much? I mean it’s backless but like. I don’t know, it’s kind of loose? And the sleeves are long. Neckline isn’t that bad, either.” 
Rin just says what he thinks “You shouldn’t go out alone wearing it.” 
You frown at him. 
“That’s not helpful, Rin-kun.” 
“It’s…fine. What time does your friend have to go?” 
“Probably right after we’re done.” 
He sighs. 
“Tell her to go with her boyfriend early. I’ll come with you to get your stationary.” 
“Wait, what? Did I hear that right? You’re coming to get me? After I’ve been hounding you to hang out? What’s with the change of heart?” 
“I don’t have anything to do since it’s a rest day. You need stuff and I don’t think you should be out alone. Don’t read into it.” 
“Kinda hard not too but I’m not gonna complain. Are you coming right now?” 
“Yeah. Send me your address.” 
__ 
Rin has no idea what impulse has brought him here. 
That’s not entirely true. What brought him to your apartment towards the end of summer is impulse. He acted on nothing but impulse.
Rin, for better or for worse, finds that you’re clueless about yourself. The fact you were going to call Murata-senpai is already bothering him enough. That, along with the fact you wore the dress and didn’t think it was too short is troubling. It’s not that Rin wants to tell you what not to wear. He doesn’t have the right but you did ask. 
Anyway, it’s a lot less agitating if you’re being accompanied while wearing it. Going alone in something like that, even if it’s the middle of summer, would be stupid.  
Rin doesn’t make it a habit of worrying about the outfits of girls he doesn’t know. He does know you though. He thinks you’d be really annoying if something happened and you got upset about it. So, all he’s doing is preventing that outcome. It’s nothing more than that. 
He knocks on your door as he shakes the thoughts out of his head, and he’s greeted by a man in his late twenties. It dawns on Rin that this is your brother. He really didn’t think this through. 
Your brother is an imposing person. He’s a head taller than Rin with a gruff voice and a scar on his cheek. Rin stares at him blankly. 
“Who are you?” 
“Itoshi Rin. I’m here for—” 
“Nii-san, tell Rin-kun to come inside and sit! I’m not done getting ready.” 
Your brother glares at him. 
“Who’s he? Your boyfriend? Is that why—” 
You come stumbling out of your room, half-dressed and Rin immediately averts his eyes. This is the most uncomfortable experience of his life.
“He’s not my boyfriend. He already rejected me, so we’re just friends. Stop fussing and let him in, it’s hot out.” 
“He rejected you?” 
Rin should just leave. 
“I already knew he was going to. Now move,” 
Rin doesn’t enjoy being involved in your sibling quarrel. Suddenly, he feels a twinge of regret about some old Bluelock memories. He understands it now more than ever, gaining a little empathy. 
Your brother moves out of the way. You’re standing in the hall, with a single stocking on and powder on your face he’s pretty sure is meant to be brushed. You grin at him. 
“Sorry! I won’t be long, promise. You got here faster than I thought you would.” 
Rin can feel a pair of eyes in the back of his skull. 
“Uh. Yeah. I took the bus so it was quick.” 
“It might be uncomfortable here. Do you wanna sit in my room instead? It’s colder but it’s kind of a mess—” 
“He can sit here.”  Your brother insists. Rin is never leaving his house again. You frown. 
“Didn’t I already tell you we’re not dating? He’s not even interested in me, it’s not like anything is gonna happen.” 
“It’s the principle of it.”  Yeah. Definitely siblings. 
“Whatever. If you make him uncomfortable, I’m gonna yell at you. Rin-kun, sorry. Do you need anything? Juice? Water?” 
Your hospitality throws him off. You’re different at home. 
“Uh. No. I’m okay.” 
“Okay, then I’ll hurry and get dressed. Nii-san, please be civil.” 
With that, you flounce back up to your room. Your brother is staring hard in Rin’s direction. He’s not intimidated. It’s just… so awkward it’s kind of unbearable for him. What do people usually do in this situation? Rin’s not exactly the sociable type.
“She confessed to you?” 
Rin is startled. 
“Uh. Yeah. In April.” 
“And you’re friends?” 
“She asked to be friends.” 
Your brother looks distressed. 
“I don’t understand that girl at all.” 
Rin doesn't either. 
“What’s she like in school?” 
Rin stares. Oh. He’s that kind of older brother. 
“Uh. Busy. She’s in the newspaper club so she’s always doing something. She has a lot of friends and gets along with our class.” 
“I see…that’s good. I’m always worried about her. Our family has  always been busy and I moved out when I was 18 so… we don’t see much of each other. She doesn’t talk about herself that much either.” 
Rin nods absently. What circle of hell is this? 
“She probably thinks I’m just being overprotective,” Bullseye “But I just worry she grew up too fast.” 
Rin thinks if he were a different kind of guy, now would be the time he gives your older brother an encouraging heart to heart. The script is there. It’s just not how he honestly feels. Rin doesn’t take pleasure in defending you. But it’s hypocritical and a little ridiculous to hear it from him.
Some of it is leftover resentment from Sae. The rest is knowing you.
You did grow up too fast. From what he knows about teenage girls, they’re supposed to be…meaner. More hysterical. More inconsiderate. Less responsible and more in the moment. Messy. All teenagers are, really. 
For all the ways you are clumsy and ridiculous, sometimes Rin thinks you’re too off-puttingly mature. It wouldn’t kill you to be more selfish. To be just a little less self-reliant. It’s not normal is it? To be so grateful for things you’re owed. It bothers him. Always has. 
Rin knows what the script is. But it bothers him. 
“If you know that then you don’t really have any right to intervene,” Rin says bluntly. “Suddenly acting protective and considerate when she grew up on her own  is just going to feel stifling. Aren’t you just trying to make yourself feel better?” 
He looks surprised by his answer. Hurt too. 
“I guess that’s right,” 
He frowns. 
“If you actually care, just be honest. She’s not the type of person to turn someone away on a grudge.” 
Before Rin can feel embarrassed about what he’s said, you come stumbling down the steps all dressed up. Your brother gives you a look. 
“Do you need any money?” 
You look at him confused then shake your head no. 
“Okay. Stay safe and have fun.” 
He turns to leave. You watch him go. Rin puts his hands in his pockets like he’s trying to wipe himself of it. 
“Weird… anyways. Ready to go?” 
“Yeah.” 
__ 
Your outing goes well. 
Outing. Not a date. No matter how many times people mistake you two for being on a date today - it was nothing more than an outing. 
You start with stationary for the upcoming term, then you drag Rin to the mall because you need some more clothes. After that, you go into a bookstore to pick up some manga. Rin has fun there because he gets to pick out some new releases and you bond mutually over your tastes. Rin learns both like thrillers. You spend a lot of time together, reading over his shoulder. 
It’s not a date. But it wasn’t bad. He’s so used to talking to you that the entire situation doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You’re funnier than he’s usually willing to give you credit for. Doing all that, plus train rides, makes it so you’re not home until sundown. You, however, refuse to end the night without having some kind of treat. After a lot of begging Rin to cheat on his meal plan, the two of you get ice-cream and you drag Rin to a local playground. Apparently you bring your neighbors' kids here sometimes. 
Now he’s here.  Sitting on swings with ice-cream and it is still not a date. Rin has no opinions on the day but you’re practically bursting at the seams with happiness. The dress you’re wearing is hiking up on your thigh from how you’re sitting. He was right to accompany you, by the way. The amount of creeps he’s had to stare down today alone is outright disgusting. 
Rin takes a spoonful of ice-cream and lets it melt in his mouth. You let your feet hit the mulch beneath you as you lick the ice-cream carefully - trying desperately not to let it spill on your hand. He watches on in amusement. After you finally get a handle on it, you give him a small look. 
“I had fun today,” You say sentimentally. Rin feels his stomach tie in knots “Thank you.”
He frowns. 
“Gross. Stop that.” 
“Aw, c’mon. You’re so edgy. Just admit you had fun! You had a fantastic and whimsical time.” 
He gives you an unimpressed stare. 
“Really? Nothing? You’re not feeling the flames of youthful joy in your loins at all?” 
“Describing it like that is disgusting.” 
“So you admit you know what it is.” 
Rin wants to smile. Fuck, he hates you. 
“...It wasn’t bad.” 
You grin. You’re so annoying.
“Ladies and gents, we got an ‘it wasn’t bad’ from the ever soulless Itoshi Rin!” 
Stupid. So stupid.
“It was more tolerable than hanging out with some of my other dipshit friends.” 
You clasp a hand over your mouth dramatically. 
“Oh…Oh wow… Do you want to try proposing next? The set-up is there. Perfect ambience.” 
His face cracks into a begrudging smile. 
“You’re insufferable.” 
You suddenly go quiet. When Rin looks at you, you’re stunned
“Why’re you being weird?” 
“No, sorry, I was just thinking I really like you,” You say, like it’s the easiest and most natural thing in the world “I’ve never seen you smile before. It’s nice.” 
“...Your ability to say cringy shit like that so easily is astounding to me.” 
“I don’t want to hear this from the guy who unironically uses lukewarm,” You say, biting into your ice-cream cone. Rin blushes. “Besides, nothing wrong with being cringe when you’re in love.” 
“Freak.” 
You give him a thumbs up. 
“One of a kind.” 
There’s a beat of silence. It’s comfortable. Rin eats his too, probably a little slower than he has to. Summer feels heavy in the air. 
“You weren’t always like..an edgelord, right?” 
Rin stares at you, perplexed by how sudden the question is. 
“Where’d you hear that from?” 
“Your mom after dinner. You already went upstairs. Said you had a nasty fight with your brother.” 
He doesn’t say anything, posture stiffening at the mention of Sae. 
“It’s not your business.” 
“Hey. No need for the attitude. I’m curious as your number one fan.” You say, trying to back off as much as possible. Like he’s some kind of feral cat you’re trying to calm. “Don’t be mad, okay? You don’t have to talk about it.” 
You try your best to be soothing and Rin softens 
He is angry. Not at you. Not really.  The mention of Sae just does that to him. And if anyone else even thought to bring it up - he’d probably tell them to go fuck themselves with nothing but bitter hatred. 
With you, there’s not any of that. There’s a lingering sense of hesitance - an internal conflict, but not anger. Rin’s never enjoyed opening his heart to anyone. 
Even so, he feels compelled to tell you, so he does.
“My brothers a dick,” Resentment seeps into his words “He came back from overseas and then basically insulted me for a minute straight. We were always meant to play soccer together but he went through something. He changed. We never talked about it,” 
“What? He insulted you for no reason? That’s so weird. Did you always have a bad relationship?” 
Rin sits with himself quietly. 
“I don’t know if we have one now. We were close as kids. At least.” 
“And he just… came back and started being an asshole to you? Seriously?” 
Rin nods. There’s not much else to the story. Rin’s tried hard not to think about the situation itself. He only uses the feelings that stayed behind to make him better. To give him a reason to play - it’s motivation and nothing more. If he starts to view it too much like what it is, betrayal, he’s afraid everything inside of him will collapse. 
“There’s probably more to it than that,” You conclude thoughtfully. Rin thinks the same “But still. You’re his baby brother. Even if he’s going through something…” 
Rin scoffs “You sound like you’re worried about him.” It comes out more petulantly than he expects 
“Not really. Not as much as I’m worried about you,” You counter, giving him a small smile. Rin feels his heart leap into his throat “I just figure, you know, maybe thinking about it like that would help. You were close right? Your mom said he used to dote on you,” 
Rin nods. He feels his chest swell and tighten. 
“Then…I bet it sucked. I bet it was hard. Or at least, it must’ve been lonely to go through that,” You say, frown deepening “Such a sudden change would be hard for anyone to deal with, I think. It’s okay if you feel like it’s unfair. His reasons aside.” 
You sigh, suddenly, covering your hands with your face. 
“What?” Rin asks. You shake your head. 
“You poor thing. I wanna hug you to death you know. A good squeeze. I’m trying to refrain.” You say, stomping your feet just slightly. He feels a flush crawl up his neck, turning his head to look away. 
“...It’s not like I’m stopping you.” 
He doesn’t have the courage to look at you. Not as he says it, or after to steal a glance of what face you're making. Instead, he hears the metal of the chain and feels the warmth of your body. It’s a tight hug. You’re standing and he’s sitting, your arms around his neck, his face directly against your chest. He widens his eyes. He wants to yell at you for being a defenseless idiot, but the feeling of being hugged so tightly washes the words away. You’re soft…and warm. He’s never been hugged by someone who isn’t his mom or brother before, and he can’t remember the last time either thing happened to him. You pat his head. 
Do you touch people like this often? So casually? Or is he special because you like him, he wants to ask. He wants to ask but doesn’t want to know the answer, pushing the feeling down as deep as he can make it go. He wraps his arms around you loosely, above your waist trying to be respectful.  
But he leans into the warmth. Like it’s something that happens once in a lifetime. 
“Hey, Rin.”  You say, soft. He can feel the warmth of your breath against his hair. 
“Hn.” 
“I hope you kick your brother's ass in soccer.” 
You sound teary. Weirdly, it makes Rin feel better. 
“Yeah.”
__ 
School starts up again during September. 
The autumn season welcomes warm colors, fallen leaves and the sort of cool weather that puts the summer uniforms back up on the hangers. Rin is listening to music when he spots you waiting for him at the gate, waving your hand at him. He has half a mind to ignore you, you’re so embarrassing. 
But before he can pretend not to see, you’re jogging over to him. He has to stand so you don’t end up bumping into him. You walk like you were born backwards, two left feet with such little awareness of your surroundings it stresses Rin out. 
He gives you a blank stare as you smile, securing your bag to your shoulder. 
“Look what the cat dragged in,” You say warmly. Rin pauses to look at you. You look different somehow. Lately you always do, Rin wonders if you’ve picked up some weird shape-shifting in your time apart “Are you excited for the new semester, hm? Hmm?” 
He keeps walking and you fall in step with him. You try but he’s too fast, so he slows just a little. He clicks his teeth, shaking his head, eyes taking in the view of the building in front him.
“Why would I be excited?” 
You shrug. 
“Because winter break  is close? Because there’s fun leaves outside? Because it’s your birthday in 6 days?”
He stops dead in his tracks. 
“What the hell? Why do you know that?” 
“Your mom told me.” You say, skipping along happily to school like you didn’t just say something insane. His frown deepens. 
“You have my moms number? You talk to my mom?” 
“She loves me,” You say casually, turning only to look at him and stick your tongue out “And she’s nice. Get over it.” 
With this, you rush into the building faster, giggling as you leave. Rin, frustrated, stomps after you. 
__
Your time together at lunch continues into fall. It’s the third day of the term, September 6th and you’re sitting by his side. The two of you eat in casual silence now, falling into a regular routine. There’s something about the whole ordeal that makes Rin feel a little funny. 
Friendship, as it stands, is still a lukewarm idea to him. But sprawled out next to you in a comfortable quiet isn’t the worst thing. The weather is cool enough to be nice and the daylight lasts for just the right amount of time to see sunset when he treks back home from practicing shooting into the net. 
That kind of sentimental viewing of his surroundings is a bad habit he’s picked up from you. He can’t seem to shake it off. He’s tried at least, but Rin has been stopping to look at everything nowadays. The sun, the trees, the cars passing. Everything passes right by his life, slowly. 
Eventually, eventually this whole thing will cease. You’ll never see Rin again and he’ll never see you - and you’ll part your separate ways. Thinking about that feels so stifling. But he figures since that’s the case, there’s probably not any harm in letting the time pass like this. As long as he’s still improving. 
Your voice doesn’t catch him off-guard anymore, no matter how loud it is after a long bout of silence. You stuff something into your mouth, a tomato he thinks. 
“Rin-kun,” You start, tilting your head to one-side “Are you doing anything for your birthday?” 
“No.” He answers immediately because he never does. He hasn’t done much since Sae left home and now that he’s a third year and about to be 18, there’s even less of a desire to pull together a party and celebrate. 
“What? Boo. That’s so lame.” 
“Don’t be so childish.” 
“I’m older than you, you dummy,” You say with such automation that Rin doesn’t even get the chance to process “You’re not even gonna have cake? Nothing?” 
“My mom might but I don’t have any plans.” 
“Your mom is so nice.” 
“Stop.” 
You frown at him but don’t say any more.  You look like you have something on your mind. Probably something stupid, but Rin can’t help but wonder what’s making your brow crease so intensely. 
“What?” He snips. You flick your eyes to him and shake your head. 
“I just think it’s a waste,” You say simply, that tone of fondness seeping into it that Rin can’t get used to. “It’s such a big number, you know? A little cake and some show tunes or something would suffice.” 
Rin scoffs. 
“I don’t care about it. It’s pointless to me. Lukewarm” He says, before noticing your genuine sadness. He sighs a little to himself “Stop looking like a depressed mutt.” 
“I’m not a dog.” 
“I guess dogs are more well-trained.’ 
“Hey. Hey, what the hell do you mean by that?” 
He ignores you. 
“Anyway, stop worrying about it.”
You pout. 
“Easier said than done.”. 
__ 
Rin’s morning routine has been the exact same for two years. 
He starts by opening the window, to let fresh air and sunlight come in through the glass. He feels like his room gets stale overnight and it wakes him up to taste the sun in the back of his mouth. He takes a deep breath of it, clearing out his lungs and blinking his eyes open. 
After that he stretches. He unfurls a Bluelock brand yoga mat onto his carpeted floor and gets to his usual cycle. It’s integral for an athlete to keep their muscles stretched, functioning like a well-oiled machine. He has it down pat. He starts from the bottom up, stretching his legs and working up to his arms and shoulders. His legs always come first since he’s a striker, always focusing on the mobility of his calves and foot before he stretches out his thigh.
His core, then his chest and arms. When he’s done with all that - he practices yoga for fifteen minutes. Again with mobility but this time full body, like making sure each of his limbs work with each other without any stops. He’ll sit back down after those minutes are up to meditate for another fifteen - clear his mind of absolutely anything stuck in it. It’s the most peace he gets on any given day. 
At the end, he sits with his feelings. Carefully, he undoes the wrapped clothed box around his heart and stares at it as it sits in his lap. Beating and raw and melancholy blue  - so full of sadness and anger like it could burst at any minute. Revisiting his sadness and rage is a necessity. Sometimes it feels like only sadness. Only monochrome. 
(He wonders if a day will come where that part of his routine is changed. If ever, he’ll unwrap his own heart only to see it pink or golden yellow or even a softer shade of red. He wonders if the colors ever change, or if time will fade them.) 
All of this happens before he even brushes his teeth. The rest of his morning routine is keeping his room neat. He folds the comforter on his bed, puts any dirty clothes away, and gets dressed. He doesn’t really style his hair - it’s so pin straight after washing he normally just has to brush it to keep it nice. 
After that he has breakfast, and checks through his bag. On days he has school he goes to school and comes back to practice. If he’s home alone - he picks one of many other things to do. He tends to practice closer to evening, taking a shower before he goes to sleep. 
On the morning of Rin’s 18th birthday, he’s only really acutely aware of the date. His morning starts the exact same as it has everyday for nearly two years. Nothing to make him feel particularly different. When he looks in the mirror, he still sees his brother's face and when he looks at his heart it’s still a steely, melancholy blue. 
When he comes down stairs, though - there’s a pair of shoes he doesn’t recognize. And there’s a humming traveling down the hall and always the way up towards him that he knows quite well. 
He thinks, for a minute, he might still be dreaming. Why you would be in his house on a Saturday morning makes absolutely no sense otherwise. 
He slips his feet into his gray slippers and treks into the living room, only to find you in view of the open kitchen. There’s a balloon attached to flowers and a spread of fruits on the table. Orange juice in a cold glass. You with his moms borrowed apron, humming contentedly as you bend over the stove. 
Rin doesn’t know what the feeling is. He doesn’t know if he’s irritated or not. Just that it’s so overwhelming to see you in his kitchen, marching to the beat of your own drum like you always do. 
“What the hell are you doing in my house?” 
You startle when you hear his voice, whipping around to face him. Dramatically putting a hand on your chest - you shoot him an unfriendly glare. 
“Well hello to you too.” 
“Answer my question.” He demands. You click your teeth. 
“Well, obviously I’m making breakfast. We’re celebrating your birthday.” 
“Without telling me.” 
You snap your fingers before giving him finger guns “Precisely. Genius deduction, Itoshi-sama.” 
“What the fuck. Where are my parents.” 
“They’re out on a day-trip! It’s a Saturday. They’ll be back here on Sunday afternoon. Read the note.” 
“What were you gonna do if I had last minute plans?” 
“You don’t though?” You say like knowing that is so obvious. He knows you asked but still “I guess I’d turn around and make my own breakfast. Give you your gift at school or something.” 
“Why are you here?” He asks a little softer this time. With a little more emotion, just a touch. He never expects anyone to make a fuss about his birthday. 
Rin doesn’t really ask for much. Certainly wouldn’t ask for this on his own accord. That’s a vain thing to do, right? 
It occurs to Rin that this is the kind of birthday you do for someone you like. Someone you love. You’re always confessing your feelings to him. You only say it when you’re sure. It wasn’t like Rin didn’t know you had feelings for him, because the point of it all had been for you to try and get rid of them. Or honor them, or deal with them in whatever way you saw fit. Rin had agreed on a whim to help you with that. Your friendship had started with the very notion that you liked Itoshi Rin and he didn’t like you back. It’s not some secret. 
When the light pours in through the windows and hits your back and for the first time - Rin understands what the fuss is about being in love is. He’s sure that this strange, grotesque warmth is the aftermath of being liked. He always thought it’d feel more simple. That he’d remain unmoved in the face of it because he was different.
It’s not like he’s unloved. He’s sure his parents love him. His brother did too. Still does, Rin thinks. 
But it’s the first time someone has made their feelings so clear to him. Someone who isn’t supposed to love or like him. And even Rin, chronically apathetic, can’t bring himself to ignore the weight of knowing that. He stares at you, dumbstruck. 
You’re still turned to him. There’s a cool tumbler of iced-coffee sitting on the counter that you sip, head tilted to one side. 
“Well, I don’t know,” You start, a hand on your hip “It just felt like too much of a waste to do nothing on your birthday. But you’re not the kind of guy who likes big celebrations. So I thought maybe just hanging out would be more your speed.”
Rin swallows. “Seriously?” 
“Seriously.”
“Bold thing to assume.” 
You frown back. 
“Well, I was gonna invite Isagi-kun—“
“Isagi? How do you know Isagi?”
“He saw me leaving your house ‘cause he was gonna visit.  After we talked he followed me on Instagram. Anyway, I was gonna invite him and Bachira and all four of us could go to a movie,” You explain as you sigh and go back to the stove “But he said you’d probably just want to hang out with me.” 
“…And he didn’t say anything else?”
“Well he asked if we were dating so I just told him the truth. Really nice guy, by the way.” 
Rin’s going to hound Isagi next time they practice together. 
“So. Now you’re here… doing what exactly?”
“Making you breakfast. I’ll make you ochazuke for lunch later. Haven’t decided on dinner, I thought I’d ask when you woke up. Your mom said you liked traditional breakfast but I didn’t think I’d be done by the time you woke up so there’s fruit.” 
Sure enough, when Rin walks over to the other side of the table - there’s a half done spread of breakfast on the table. All the dining ware is set up neatly, the table arranged so well he feels guilty for not helping. 
“You didn’t have to do all this for me.” Rin tsks, a frown on his expression as he stands next to you. He watches you pour egg into a square pan, slowly evening out the layers. 
“I wanted to,” You reply, not thinking twice about it. “I enjoy cooking for people. It’s fun. I normally just do it to feed myself, so it’s nice to share.” 
He closes his eyes. 
“Thanks.” 
He’s afraid to look over at you, the excitement radiating off of you. It makes him uncomfortable that something so simple could make you so happy. 
“Can you repeat that?” 
“Don’t start.” 
“Rin-chan,” You coo, immediately making him so embarrassed he wants to hit you “You’re so docile today.” 
“I’m gonna kill you.” He says, hitting your shoulder as light as he can. 
“Woah…how romantic. Dying on the day you were born? Jeez. I’m swooning.” 
He looks at you blankly. 
“Stop being gross. Where did you even get that from?” 
“Too many things to count,” You say with a snap. He shakes his head. 
“Is there anything I can help with?” 
“How diligent. It’s fine! It’s your birthday, right? Sit. Eat some fruit. Pick out what you wanna do. I rented some games and there’s some movies I had in mind too. Make your agenda. “
Rin laughs to himself, lightly. 
“Isn’t that supposed to be your job?” 
“Don’t be stingy! I’m already making breakfast.”
Rin rolls his eyes.
“Yeah. Whatever.” 
__
You end up back in Rin’s room. 
After a healthy discussion about what he would like to do - Rin landed on wanting to do both. He picked out a copy of Resident Evil  to play until after lunch and then decided to binge a bunch of movies after. 
You even agree to accompany him while he practices. There’s 24 hours in a day and the plans are nothing more than vague suggestions - but deep down, it makes Rin kind of…well whatever. It’s not a bad plan. 
Currently, you’re sitting at the foot of Rin’s bed with your hands tight around the controller of his PS4. Rin feels a little bad for you. While you do okay with horror movies, the immersion of horror games seems to frighten you enough that your eyes are glued onto the screen. As such, Rin is trying his best not to startle you as you lean forward every so slightly. The leg of your pants is pushed up just barely. You’re dressed cozy, so it’s funny seeing your head shrink into your hoodie. 
“Why the fuck would you set it hardcore if this BOTH of our first times playing,” You whine, turning yourself into the next room carefully on screen “I’m scared.” 
“You’re such a wuss,” He scoffs, leaning back from where he’s sitting next to you on his bed. “We’re never gonna make any progress like this.” 
You stomp your feet and Rin resists the urge to laugh. 
“Shut up, it’s scary.” 
He nudges your shoulder with his knee. 
“Stop complaining. You got to pick the character and I got to pick the difficulty.” 
“I deserve to lust after Leon after the shit I’m getting put through,”
Rin scoffs at your declaration. The irritation is softened when you walk into the backroom faced with a zombie - a short scream leaving your lips as you mash buttons and use your gun to kill it quickly. You manage to dodge as much damage as you can, obviously trying not to waste limited resources. Even so it takes damn near 7 bullets. Despite your cowardice, you’re pretty good at the game. 
You loot the room for any possible supplies then leave. You turn the corner of the isle, a zombie filled gas station awaiting you. You manage to save bullets and stun the one closest to you before getting your shit completely rocked - quick to duck out. The first cut scene of the game comes next where you meet the other main character Claire. You gasp like you’ve been running, shoving the controller towards Rin. 
“Your turn. Move, I wanna sit on your bed.” 
“Why?” 
“Cause it’s a weekend and I have a right to be lazy. Shoo. On the floor.” 
“You’re getting way too comfortable in my house on my birthday.” 
Rin, does, go sit on the floor where you were. Mostly because it’s a better position to play the game in. At least it has minimal back support. The cut scene plays in the background, nothing difficult as the main characters go to the next area - the police station and the technical start of the game. Rin hasn’t played the remake, but he did longingly watch some playthroughs while he was in Bluelock during its release. 
He had never mentioned it to you, so he was shocked you knew enough about it to bring it over. He likes survival horror and he was always wanting to play it. 
“Me and your mom are best friends so I practically live here anyways. Also shut-up and look.” 
He does shut up, too invested in the story to be annoyed.  The main characters get separated and Leon ends up in the streets. 
For whatever reason, he’s conscious about proximity. Your knee next to his shoulder. You’re close enough to touch him casually and he’s wondering…hoping to know if you’re naive enough to do it without thinking. It feels like a stroke of luck, or maybe a form of mind-reading when you reach for his hair with your fingers. He wonders if you’re doing it on purpose. He thinks he should tell you to stop. 
But when you ask “Is this okay?” 
He can’t find the strength in himself to do it. He focuses on the scene in front of him, weaving through the cars to shake off a horde of zombies. Rin grabs the controls, immediately turning around to try and stun a group of zombies before turning into the gate so he can head to the station.
His heart is racing and his eyes almost feel cross from how much he’s focusing but it’s not exactly the game. The game isn’t even that scary, as much as it’s gory he thinks. 
“I don’t care but,” He says through a breath, trying to sound like he means it and that he’s not so conscious of the way your pinky lingers on his nape “when’d you get so touchy?” 
“I like touching you.” You reply, twirling a strand of hair around your fingers “Your hair is so silky and nice. I felt when I gave you a hug that one time and I kept thinking about it.” 
Rin wants to say “Do you think about me that much?” but the words don’t come out how he wants. 
“Do you touch everyone like this?” 
You’re silent for a minute. It takes patience, effort - not to turn his head to see the look on your face. Though he probably knows it. He thinks he just wants affirmation from you. 
“...No. Not really. I just like you.” 
There’s a beat of silence - a pause designated for his rejection, the promise he made to you so many months ago. He knows what the script is. And he’s said it many times before. Not in a million years, right? 
But he can’t bring himself to say it this time, so he doesn’t.
“Yeah. I know.” 
___
Before Rin knows it, the day is coming to a close. 
The entirety of it you spend together, with you faithfully stuck to him and without Rin feeling entirely suffocated. He isn’t sure why it’s so easy with you. Normally this much socialization would render him exhausted. Irritable at best and angry at worst. But he’s not. In fact even after his entire workout routine, he felt fine listening to you ramble. He didn’t need complete silence, but even when there were lulls and dips - it didn’t feel uncomfortable. 
You didn’t get far in Resident Evil 2. Rin decides to cut it short since it’d definitely take a lot longer than all the time you had and there were movies he wanted to watch. When you whine about not being able to finish - he quietly told  you to just come over next time and play it with him then. 
He waited a year, so he can wait a little longer. Your face lit up idiotically, giddy with delight at the promise of next time. As promised, ochazuke was for lunch and after 30 minutes of digestion - he put it out of his mind as he did his daily drills. You joined him, insisting that you’d be fine doing nothing. Sat on the field with a book the entire time even though it was cold, tossing him his things whenever he took a break - smiling each time he talked to you. 
(“You know you don’t actually need to stay with me the entire day.” He reminds you of this as he brings a bottle of water to lips, sweat dripping down the side of his head even in the cool weather. You turn your head up at him. 
“When else am I gonna get to stick by your side all day? This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” 
“You’re so good at being annoying it’s impressive,” He says, dropping his water bottle back down “Aren’t you bored?” 
“Huh? No way. I have my fun book to keep me company and on top of that I get to see you play in the flesh.” 
Oh, yeah. You mentioned watching him when he was in Bluelock. “Well, it’s not like a match. But I’m not gonna keep asking, so whatever.” 
“Yes, yes - I understand. Now go, shoo.”)
Even though Rin practiced for his usually long amount of hours, you sat with him diligently - even stopping to cheer him on when you needed a break from reading or studying or whatever else you were doing. 
Upon returning, he went to shower and you went to warm up in  the kitchen. After he was redressed and clean, he joined you downstairs to order take-out and have dinner. 
Finally, it’s after dinner and you’ve banished Rin to his room while you set something up downstairs. He’s mostly scrolling twitter, watching soccer highlights from the accounts he follows. He’s just about comfortable when you finally call him back down, which irritates him enough to click his teeth but not enough to bring it up to you. 
After a long day, when Rin finally comes back down stairs, walking down into the hall and back into the living room - he can’t help but be surprised at the change in scenery. All the lights have been turned low, and everything looks different. You’ve taken to decorating a wall of his living room after some rearranging. A white sheet hanging up with something, and a plethora of fairy lights in stripes going down it in a nice pattern. 
There’s a banner and it looks hand-made. It spells out happy birthday, rin in neat, thick blue letters on cut-out white shapes, attached along the back wall. On the table in front, there’s some decoration along with nice paper plates and plastic cutlery and a cake in the middle that’s nicer than he’s expecting. 
You beam at him as he walks in. And you’re stupid enough to be wearing a birthday hat, giving him jazz hands as he enters. 
“Happy birthday!” 
On paper, Rin thinks it’s been something of a boring birthday. He did what he normally would do on a day off but you cooked for him twice. He spent most of it with you, even though it was a lot of nothing. A lot of being together like you were roommates or something. Maybe that's why he’s so reluctant to admit that this is making him feel something. 
That the silly theatrics feel meaningful. It is thoughtful, isn’t it? Rin doesn’t think anyone in his entire life has done anything this thoughtful for him. Birthdays are birthdays, and they’ve never really been especially meaningful. He didn’t see the point in just celebrating the day of someone's birth. Certainly, he doesn’t think he’d have it in himself to do something like this for another person. 
Rin stares at you. Wearing a stupid birthday hat and the most gleeful, idiotic smile he’s ever seen. All of this for a guy who’s rejected you, but you seem to cherish so much anyways. Apathetic and ungraceful as he is and always will be - he’s so overwhelmed he doesn’t know what to do. What a strange, unrecognizable feeling welling up inside of him. And not even one feeling, but so many so tangled with each other - he can’t see anything straight. His eyes aren’t drawn to the candlelight, or the moon, or the cake. 
It’s like a sense of tunnel vision. Where all Rin can really look at is you. It’s happened before. How can anyone be like this, he wonders. Are there people born into the world so unselfishly? And if they are, why would he ever cross paths with them? How could someone so easy to love have any business loving him, in the first place? 
Rin won’t ever understand you. He accepts that. He’ll never be able to understand this kind of person. Someone who shines even brighter than the sun. 
But he’s not so stupid to not understand himself. He’s unable to say the words he’d promised to you all the way in April. Rin doesn’t like to lie. 
He would be lying, that is, if you told him just one more time that you liked him.  He’d be lying if it told you it’ll never happen. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t like you. And it’s not just because you like him, because that never mattered to him in the first place. 
Some people are made to be adored. Born special and bright like everything should revolve around them. Perhaps that kind of thing is only afforded to people without ego. With heart and character and charisma. 
It doesn’t matter. What a stupid thing to realize on his birthday of all days.
“Rin-kun?” 
He blinks. 
“Where’d you hide all of this?” 
You laugh at him, bubbly and delighted.
“I brought it in a tote and kept it in the kitchen. Mostly stuff from my house, and your mom helped with the cake and stuff. It’s nice right? I did a good job, no?” 
Ah. He’s fucked. 
“It looks okay.” 
You frown, huffing and puffing “Just okay? C’mon, don’t be stingy.” 
“Doesn’t begging for compliments defeat the purpose of them.” 
“Not to me,” 
Your frown deepens and Rin is starting to feel the rose colored glasses set in. 
“It’s nice. It’s good.” 
“So you like it? You’re happy? Delighted, even? Absolutely overjoyed by-” 
“Cut it out or I’m going to send you home.” 
“No,” You whine, tugging on his sleeves like you’re worried he really will “I want cake.” 
“Then let’s cut the cake?”
“We can’t,” You put your arms up in a cross and Rin gives you a look of confusion. “I promised I’d get a good picture of you.” 
“What? Promised who?” 
“Your parents, mostly. But also, you should post on your Instagram a little more, no? You’re basically a famous player already, you should have the courtesy to feed your fans.” 
Before he can do anything to protest, you usher Rin to sit on the other side of the table before you back with his phone. He stares at you but you only look at him expectantly. Still, he unlocks it and hands it to you. He gives you an irritated sigh (though he isn’t really irritated). 
“This is stupid.” 
“It’s a good thing to capture memories, you dummy. Now smile,” You say, holding up the camera after some angling “Or don’t. The people do love a good scowl.” 
That makes him want to smile. He’s awkward in the photos but he does stay still for them, trying his best not to look ridiculous. You take a few, then pause to come up to the table and light the candles in front of him. He hears the camera shutter one more time before you look up at him over the edge. 
“Ready to blow out your candles?” 
“I guess.” 
Before Rin can do anything about it, he listens to you sing happy birthday - poorly with too much enthusiasm. You’re tone deaf and passionate all at the same time - singing each word with a dramatic flair until you’re on the final word. You can’t clap because you’re recording but you do cheer as he burns the candles out. Once it’s over you stop recording, looking down and swiping through the pictures. 
“They turned out good. You should post them.” 
“...You’re done taking them?” 
You tilt your head to one side. 
“Yeah?” 
“We didn’t get any together.” 
Your eyes widen like he said something shocking. 
“...You wanna take them together?” 
He scoffs. 
“We spent the whole day together.” 
You flush, suddenly embarrassed and god. 
“I just wasn’t expecting you to want that. I mean we’re friends but-” 
“Shut up. And come here.” 
So you do, phone still in hand as you mess with your appearance.
“Do you want to take it or do you want me to?” 
“Oh, uh lemme just-” You go through a bunch of filters and find one before handing it to him, a nervous expression “You take it cause your arm is longer and you’re taller.” 
Rin just nods. Takes the phone from you,  and lets you pose a little before he takes the photo. He hands it back to you so you can see, and watches your eyes light up as you stare at it. Stupid. 
“It came out nice.” You say. You save it onto his phone before handing it back to him. “Send it to me later?” 
“Yeah.” 
You give him another grin and Rin takes his phone from you, going through the pictures as he opens up Instagram. He guess it wouldn’t hurt to post. You leave his side, saying something about cutting the cake. But he isn’t looking, really. 
He drafts a post as he waits for you. He likes the picture you took together best and decides to put it second. He never has any idea on how to caption these which is why he doesn’t want to post it in the first place. He glances at you, then sighs internally. 
itoshirin._ posted for the first time in a while.  posted 7 mins ago. liked by isagi_yoichi, bachiraaaaa, and others.  itoshirin._ ; 09.09.2002. thanks for everything, stupid.  isagi_yoichi commented: no way you’re getting a girlfriend before me. life is so unfair and cruel.  isagi_yoichi commented: oh happy birthday btw bachiraaaaa commented: RIN-CHAN !!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY ٩(◕‿◕。)۶ official_itoshisae: happy birthday.  itoshirinsnumberonefan: WHO IS THAT??  yo_hiori: happy birthday! 
“Rin, I cut the cake!” 
He puts his phone on DND before taking a plate of cake from your hand. 
__
The clock strikes two, and you’re still at Rin’s place. 
After a long binge of horror movies, you’re both comfortably in each other's space - only inches away, talking about nothing. The movie ended a little over half an hour ago.
He’s still doing just that, listening to you chatter away next to his ear. The room is completely dark minus the soft glow of the T.V. which gives just enough light for Rin to gaze at your face. Your eyes are wide and sparkly, still, even though it seems like the tiredness is getting to you too. 
Neither of you wants to stop talking. You’ve started discussing manga - particularly Rin's favorite manga. 
“Ciguatera was interesting,” You say, hugging one of his pillows close to your chest.  “I wasn’t sure what to expect.” 
“I’m shocked you read it. Seriously. I thought you would’ve  forgotten the minute after I told you.” 
“Well, yeah. You recommended it, so obviously I wanted to at least try,” You say with a breathless laugh, turning over to face him. You’re facing each other, he realizes a second too late “You’re such a boy, by the way. Weekly young magazine? Really.” 
“Shut up.” He says, with no real bite to his words “What were you expecting?” 
“Dunno. Didn’t think you were interested in romance of all things. Especially cause Ogino’s kind of a loser.” 
“There was other stuff in it.” He points out. You chuckle. 
“Yeah. Way raunchier and darker than I thought. But it was mostly about romance. So, I was surprised to say the last.” 
“What,” Rin starts, partially offended by the implication “Do you think I'm a soulless machine or something?” 
“Well no,” You frown, shaking your head as you stare at him “But you’ve rejected every confession you’ve ever gotten, even from some of the prettiest girls in our entire grade. So I didn’t think you had any interest in that kinda thing.”
He scoffs.”You’re stupid.” 
“You tell me all the time,” You point your fingers and place them under your chin. “Why did you reject them, by the way? Just trying to focus on soccer?” 
He feels flush, explaining. Turning his gaze to the ceiling, he sighs. 
“None of those people actually had feelings for me. It wasn’t meaningful in any way.” 
“And you want it to be meaningful?” 
“There’s no point being in a relationship with someone I don’t like and barely know. And who doesn’t really care to get to know me. I’m busy enough with soccer, and I don’t have time to entertain lukewarm relationships like that.” 
“What an unexpectedly sentimental reason. How soft of you Rin-kun.” 
“Shut up.” 
There’s a pause of thoughtful silence where you hum and lay flat on your back, reaching your hand up towards the ceilings. Rin can’t do much more than look. 
“You know. How I said I’ve been watching you since you were in Bluelock?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Y’know. I always thought you looked really sad back then. I might’ve been reading too much into it but,” You smile, corners of your lips upturned while you giggle “It’s like…weirdly relieving to see you like this.” 
“Like what?” 
“You’re like…just a boy,” You say wispy and delighted “A normal boy who reads shitty raunchy magazines and thinks about love. It’s comforting somehow. Makes me feel special. I really like you. A little more every day, it feels like.” 
Another beat of silence. He thinks you can sense the hesitance of his rejection. There’s such a tangible shift in the atmosphere. If Rin stretches his hand out to touch it, he thinks he’d push through an impossible barrier and keep falling in it forever. He thinks it would swallow him. 
He isn’t sure what it is. If it’s an act of bravery, or a sudden uptick in adrenaline, or if the exhaustion of a long day is finally starting to hit. Maybe it’s just these feelings that keep overwhelming him that make his body move. Something outside of his mind, nestled in his ribs, that has him inching closer to you. 
He flips until he’s hovering over you. Your eyes widen and you stare at him. He stares back, like he almost can’t believe himself. 
“Rin-kun?” 
And he freezes. The confidence dissipates as soon as he finds it but now he’s above you, on top of you. You’re messy and flush from the day. Your mascara is smudged and your lipgloss is gone - leaving a faint sheen on your mouth that matches your skin. Your hoodie is rumpled around the shoulders - one of the sleeves pulled to your elbows. Rin really gets a look at you. Cognizant of the fact he spent all day with you. That’s why you look worn and sleepy and so unbelievably cute. So cute it annoys him. Irritates him half to death. 
You open your mouth again, only to close it. It almost feels like he can hear your heart. Or maybe it’s his. It’s hard to know the difference. 
“Is this a n-new kind of bullying?” You joke, trying to ease the tension. He frowns at you. 
“Does it seem like I’m joking?” 
Your eyes widen and you turn away. Rin wants to make you look. 
“Well no but…” And you squirm a little “what are you doing?”
He doesn’t know, either. 
“I don’t know.” He admits, and you laugh a little breathless and the tension is so thick Rin can’t swallow around it “I want to kiss you.” He blurts out. Awkward and uncharismatic and clumsy. 
A bout of silence.
“...Am I going insane? Did you just say you want to kiss me?”
“I did.” 
More silence. 
“Why? Wouldn’t that make me your first kiss?” 
“It would.” 
“And isn’t that like… reserved for your special someone?” 
“It is.” 
“Rin-kun,” You breathe out, blinking in disbelief  “Do you even know what you’re saying?” 
“I do.”
You’re a little more serious this time. You put your hand on his shoulder. He feels like the Earth is gonna fall from under his feet. 
“Stop messing with me.” 
“I’m not.” 
You frown. 
“Do you really want to kiss me?” 
“Yeah,” He can’t think “I do.” 
You reach up for him. You’re more experienced with this kind of thing and it shows as you cup the nape of his neck. He doesn’t finch. He doesn’t look away from you either, as your thumb brushes under his eyes - the both of you so wrapped up in each other nothing matters. Rin would stay in this forever, if someone gave him the option.
“W-we have to talk about this afterwards, okay?”
“Okay.” 
“I’m serious, Itoshi Rin. Because you can’t just—” 
Your palm cups his cheek and he rubs against it instinctively. He sees your eyes widen and you swallow - a frown still etched into your features. 
“I know. I’m sorry.” 
Your voice goes as soft as a whisper. 
“You’re so unfair.” 
He almost laughs. 
“Please kiss me.” He asks, so silently it almost goes unheard but he knows you hear it because your lips press into a thin line before you’re pulling Rin down towards you. Your lips are soft. And warm. And they taste faintly like whip-cream and the slight sour of strawberries and your hands are so gentle. Somehow he feels at ease even though he feels like he’s going to implode on himself from nerves. 
Just a little deeper before you pull away and stare at him. Rin looks back, eyes jumping from your lips up to your eyes and back down to your lips. You open your mouth to say something. Mumbling his given name only for him to cut you off with another kiss, a little deeper this time. The way it shuts you up is so cute it almost makes him angry. How it muffles your words, tapers off into a noise of surprise and ends up just back at a kiss. 
He’s never felt like this kind of thing was a viable option. Itoshi Rin is an antisocial, angry, and apathetic soccer protege and he has no time in the world for anything lukewarm. He’s rejected every confession he’s ever received in his life and always thought of relationships as something far off and disconnected to him in his entirety.
Perpetually unloveable but maybe not in such an angsty, vulnerable way. Like a law of the universe. A truth, like thinking of him, means to postulate that he is that way. A prerequisite to understanding him. 
Rin doesn’t like things that are half-ass. Perhaps, part of the reason he likes you so much is because you’ve proved him wrong in such an utterly defeating way. The fact your very existence is by and large, the antithesis of this truth. 
Itoshi Rin is not only loveable, but he is capable of loving. There is evidence of it, right underneath him now - with soft lashes and wet eyes and the brightest smile that could ever exist. 
And it’s haunting for more reasons than one. But he likes how unyielding the revelation is. You’re worried he’ll want to avoid it, and he does. But he doesn’t think he could forever, even if he tried. 
He’s confident if he made the attempt, you’d come barreling towards him once more. With all the confidence in the world. It makes him want to at least try to face it.
Which is why he’s kissing you a second, third, and fourth time. Which is why he’s looking at you in between, wide blue eyes transfixed on every part of your face. He’s trying to face what daunts him most, not like but love and the difference is more important as the days pass. 
You pull away, finally - put a hand on his chest and stare. 
“Rin-kun,” You whisper, uncertain of yourself which he hates. “I like you. I really like you.” And again, a little softer “And I want you to like me too,” Like that had been the biggest secret of all. Something you’d never told anyone, even once. 
Rin can’t imagine it. Have you been holding in something like this all this time? He only realized a couple hours ago and it already feels like he’s going to rip apart at the seams. 
“I do. I do like you.”
“Really? Forreal? Seriously? You’re not pulling my leg? Yanking my chain?” 
He knocks his forehead against yours. 
“Be quiet. How can you be this stupid in the middle of getting confessed to?” 
You pout. Pout at him, all whiny. God. 
“It doesn’t feel real to me.” 
He laughs humorlessly. “It’s all a dream. You’ll forget it all in the morning.” 
“Stop being mean to me.” 
He has to be. If he’s not you’re going to see right through him. 
“No,” He says instead “Stop being so ridiculous first.” 
“An impossible ask to the world's most ridiculous girl.” 
He smiles a little. 
“That’s a good name for you. I’ll change your contact.” 
“Nooo,” You say again, this time pulling him down for a hug. His eyes widened. And he’s unfair? “Be nice to your girlfriend.” 
He doesn’t have anything to say to that. It flusters him too, admittedly. Before he can think of a counter, you yawn big and wide. Rin is still on top of you and neither of you have brushed your teeth. He was planning on putting you up in the guest room, but currently you’re clinging to him half-away. And he has no such plans of telling you to move. 
“I’m so tired.” 
Rin feels like he’s going to pass out, He mumbles. 
“You can sleep.” 
“Want you to sleep too.” 
Rin closes his eyes. He couldn’t refuse even if he wanted to. You’ll have to talk about it in the morning. 
“Okay.” 
__ 
“Rin? Where’s your frie—oh!” 
Rin stirs the minute his mom enters the room. It only takes him a minute to regain consciousness and by the time he’s awake - he’s already regretting not locking his door. 
He continues to pretend to be asleep. He thinks you still are because you’re comfortably slotted in his arms. Rin is so embarrassed he wants to die. He hears his mom gasp, and then quietly shouts for his father to come to his room. 
“What are you—oh.” 
Rin is going to have the worst morning of his life whenever they leave. He remains still. He hears the shutter of a camera and grits his teeth all the way in the back of his jaw. 
“Oh this will make a great wedding photo.” 
His dad laughs a little to himself, ushering his mother out of the room “Don’t get carried away,” 
When the door finally clicks, Rin opens his eyes and lets out a breath of relief. Much to his shock, he also feels you stir. His eyes widen when you turn to him, your face painted in utter mortification before you bury it in your hands. He stares at you as you groan, kicking your feet. 
“Oh god I’m going to cry. How am I going to face her? Oh my god” 
Rin scoffs a little at your dramatics. It calms him down in a strange way “She’s not gonna say anything to you. She’s probably only going to bully me about it.” 
“I’ve forsaken you, mother-in-law” 
Rin nudges your ribs, blush crawling up his face. 
“Shut up.” 
__ 
Up until three weeks ago, Rin didn’t take issue with the way you interacted at school. 
You two have a pretty strict policy about it. Though you’re in the same class and you chat occasionally in the halls - you tend to avoid Rin where you can. Originally, this made sense. For the sake of his comfort and yours, the best choice was sneaking to the roof together to eat where you could remain mostly undisturbed. 
As such, Rin has never been particularly consciousness of your presence in the classroom. For starters, you’re always somewhere. A busybody of the highest pedigree and always running errands - even if Rin were to try to talk to you he can only really find you 20 percent of the time. Secondly, unlike Rin, you have a handful of friends surrounding you. Rin has interacted with them very briefly but you (seemingly for his sake) try not to force him out of his comfort zone too much by making you all sit together. The most Rin has gotten from them is a single knowing smirk or glance. 
And lastly, before three weeks ago, it would’ve been a big problem if people started getting onto either of you about a relationship that didn’t exist. That would've been all around awkward and uncomfortable and maybe would’ve deterred your future endeavors with other guys. 
That was when you and Itoshi Rin were in fact not dating. 
Three weeks into your relationship and nothing much has changed, though nowadays you come over to his house on weekends where you can. You’ve even been on one date after his dad (of all people) hounded him about never taking you on a proper one. 
You text the same as you did before, and you call Rin a little more often. Usually for the purposes of rambling so much you tucker yourself out and fall asleep. 
But at school, Rin only really sees you for the spare minutes of lunch and not much more than that. He’s never really thought about it before. It was never enough of an issue to warrant his intervention. 
It’s not like he cares, okay? 
But he’s more aware of it, now - frustratingly enough. You really don’t see each other often enough in school and you have many more guy friends than he had ever considered before. Every time he catches you and Murata-senpai trekking down the hall he feels his blood pressure rise. 
You and Rin have both decided, though. Despite his posting of you, neither of you have confirmed the relationship. Rin is immune to the prying and you’re good at dodging it altogether. This is the agreement. 
It is therefore very irrational of him to be thinking of speaking up at this current moment in time. 
Despite your mutual decision to keep things as private as possible, Rin has heard nothing but gossip about the situation for weeks. Outside of the usual, direct kind of prying - there’s whispers and stares and all sorts of other things. Rin doesn’t care about it. He’s used to it, it’s part of the gig and the neo-egoist league made him near immune. 
It’s all the things directed at you that make him seethe. Misplaced jealousy and the disappointed remarks of guys in class that make him feel like his blood pressure is rising. The latter is what’s making him most irritated now. How fucking long are these idiots going to talk about this? 
“Dude, you had like three years to confess,” Some idiot, who’s name Rin doesn’t know is still yapping “If she’s actually dating Mr.Popular then it’s on you for fucking yourself over.” 
The other idiot in question groans, and Rin forces his face to remain impassive as he listens. He tries to stop listening. More than once, actually. But they just keep going. 
“I didn’t think he’d actually do it dude. Like there’s no way, right? He rejected every single girl who ever confessed to him. I thought she was safe. And now my highschool love is forever ruined.” 
Like he ever stood a chance. How ridiculous. 
Another one of the goons speaks up “Dunno. Neither of them have said anything right? You miss all of the shots you don’t take.” 
“Are you saying I should just confess to her anyway? She got posted on his Instagram dude.” 
A smirk appears on Extra Three’s face “No confirmation means fair game. Stop being pussy and do it.” 
“You think I stand a chance against that dude?” 
Rin can feel all three pairs' eyes hit him at once. 
“Nah. Not a chance. But you could always wait till she’s all heartbroken and comfort her, right? Hook, line, and sinker.” 
“I hear when girls are heartbroken they’re like way more likely to let you—” 
With that, Rin stands to his feet. He’s seething. It’s ridiculous. It’s stupid. He should definitely just leave to go cool his head but he’s so fucking angry it’s hard to sit still and he has no other way of dealing with his feelings. So he walks towards the table slowly, eyes darkened and just barely holding it in
He knows this is a bad idea. He can feel the whole classroom look at him as he slams his hand down on the desk. But he doesn’t care. He’ll deal with it later. 
“You’d be fucking lucky if my girlfriend ever looked your way.” 
As soon as Rin says it, there's a thud at the door-way of the classroom. When he looks up you’re there with your eyes widened. Rin just looks back, impassive and immune to the sudden uproar of whispers. 
He only clicks his teeth when you grab him by the sleeve of his uniform - cracking a small smile as he hears the faint words “Just give up dude.” as he leaves. 
__ 
Up on the roof top, you’re shaking Rin by the shoulders - visibly distressed. 
“Hey! What the hell was that?” 
“What.” He offers, not willing to budge on the situation. In the first place he’s a little irritated by all of it. And he’s a little irritated by how much you’ve been enforcing the no-talking rule. Right now, it really feels like he can’t take it anymore. 
You frown deeply, distress only growing as the time passes in uncomfortable silence. Rin doesn’t want to be civil about it. About it and about you and about those idiots. 
“We had an agreement!” You say, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, though it’s weak. He stares down at you. 
“So what?” 
“Rin, we talked about this. Don’t be like this.” 
“Like what.” 
“Pissy and weird. You’re being weird and I don’t like it. It’s making me sad.” 
“How am I being—” 
Before Rin can proceed with his sentence, he catches a glimpse of your face in the midst of his tantrum. Sad like a puppy who got its tail stepped on and about ready to cry, he immediately seals his mouth in fear of making it worse. 
“Why are you doing that?” He spits. 
“Doing what?”
“Being all sad and pathetic. Does it really bother you that much if people know we’re dating?” 
“It’s not like that.” You assure. 
“Then what is it?” Rin prods, frustrated but not wanting to make things worse “Why is it such a big deal?” 
There’s a bout of silence before you sigh. 
“Rin, you’re a huge soccer player. The people you’re dating and stuff - it’s a big deal,” 
Rin cuts you off. 
“That’s what you were worried about? My career?” 
“Well, yeah.” 
“You’re stupid.” 
“Hey! I’m seriously worried about it and then you go and—” 
He gives you a frown. He forgets all too often you’re like this. He’s used to your silly and unserious way of talking, so it slips his mind that you’re actually a massively responsible person. You probably have a point about it, thinking of the consequences of your relationship through hell and back. With a detached sense of rationality - Rin can recognize that you’re probably thinking about more things than this. Otherwise it wouldn’t be so touchy of a subject. 
Nothing’s changed on paper, but everything will eventually. It’s something to think about, admittedly. 
Honestly Rin doesn’t care what strangers think. He’s blunt and unfriendly. Always has been, and will continue to be through the majority of his career he’s absolutely sure. Even outside of Bluelock, he has almost no regard for the opinions of other people and what concerns them. Maybe it’s irresponsible, but Rin isn’t playing soccer for the approval of the populace and nothing will ever change that. 
“If I thought that was something I should worry about, we wouldn’t be dating.” 
You look up at him. 
“You should be worried about it.” You emphasize. 
“I’m not. I don’t care what any of those people think.” 
“Then why’d you go and say something?” 
Rin seethes.
“They deserved it.” 
Your hand reaches for his cheek. He pauses and takes a deep breath, staring at you. He leans into your touch instinctively, frustration eased by the sensation. You stare back. 
“Okay. We’ll announce it officially later, then.” 
“Do we even need to do that? If you tell three people, half of our grade’ll find out anyway.” 
“Are you saying my friends  gossip?” 
He doesn’t reply to that. You pout at him and Rin fights the urge to kiss you. There’s a beat of silence as you give him a hug - the two of you on the same roof you always are. Rin doesn’t mind it, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. 
“You know, it’s gonna get busy for me soon.” You mumble. So this is what else you were worrying about. “And for you. I have my entrance exam and the school is in Tokyo. And you’re gonna go back to Bluelock and—” 
“It’ll be fine.”
“I’m worried about it anyways.” 
“About what?” 
“I’ll see you less. What if you stop liking me randomly and I can’t even hunt you down about it?” 
Rin huffs “You’re insane enough to find me,” He drops his chin on your shoulder “Plus you talk to my mom.” 
“You’re gonna be so busy.” 
“I’ll come see you when I’m not.” 
“And you’re going to be surrounded by the human equivalent of siren women someday soon.” 
“I don’t care about that.” 
“But you might.” 
“I haven’t in eighteen years, you moron.” 
“I’m gonna miss you all the time.” You say, sniffly and Rin is so struck with a feeling of affection he almost falls “I already miss you all the time.” 
He squeezes you a little tighter “It’ll be fine.”
“For you.” 
Rin furrows his brow, pulling back to stare at you. 
“Not for me,” Because Rin can begrudgingly admit he will miss you worse than this “Just in general. It’ll be fine. You almost made it a year without me.” 
“But now I’m with you,” You reply easily, and softly and oh-so in love Rin wants to turn away “And I’m so happy and I want it be like this for a long time,”
“Just a long time? Not something stupid like a blossoming eternity?” 
“I thought I’d scare you.” 
“You did that in April.” He points out flatly. You hit him lightly but smile anyway. 
“It’s a problem how much I like you.” 
Rin likes you just as much. You’re probably too much of an idiot to realize and won’t for a long while. He takes a little comfort in, strangely.
“It’ll be fine. I’ll come see you.” He says again, because it’s the only thing he can think to say. He believes in it thoroughly. If Rin were a better, more candidly vulnerable person he thinks now he’d give the loving boyfriend speech. He almost wants to half-assedly try but can’t bring himself to get past the awkwardness. He hugs you tighter because it’s all he’s capable of, and hopes he can will it into you. The sincerity of his words, he wants so badly for them to reach you “Stop worrying so much.” 
“Rin-kun,” You start, then pause to look up at him. His breath hitches “Rin. I love you. Really.” 
He feels like he’s gonna be sick as he stares at you, eyes widened. You look the same as you always do. Unexpectant, terribly sincere, with your heart on your sleeve. The more Rin knows you, the more he thinks it can’t be easy to be so vulnerable all the time. 
So you do it for him, and only him. And Rin is always going to be intolerable. Frustrating and impatient. But he wants to do it for you too, where he can. Rin wants you to know it’ll be fine because the fact that you’re standing here now is nothing short of a miracle. Nothing comes out right. 
“Yeah.” He says, but he can’t get the rest of words out. And you laugh, and peek up at him through your lashes. 
“And you love me too, don’t you?” 
Rin grits his teeth. He wants to say no. 
“I guess.” 
“And we’re going to be just fine.” You repeat, hugging him tight. Rin hugs you back. He wants to say thank you. He wants to kiss you stupid and make fun of you at the same time. He wants you so much and so often he’s sure he’s lost his fucking mind. 
But he agrees with you, at least. He nods. He holds you. He doesn’t like to lie, so he looks at you instead. 
“Yeah. It’s gonna be fine.” 
__
EPILOGUE ; 
In Rin’s defense, he’s not trying to listen in on the conversions of your underclassmen. 
For starters, the club door is cracked up and Rin only has one airpod fully charged. Secondly, it’s not like they’re being quiet. Rin’s pretty sure anyone with decent enough hearing could hear them from down the hall. Given that it’s the newspaper club, he’s sure that the conversation isn’t usually this interesting. 
It’s just when he catches wind of your name while you’re nowhere to be found, he finds himself eavesdropping just a little. He leans back into the chair he’s sitting in, face tucked into his black mask and hat pulled neatly over his head. 
“Guys, I’ve decided I’m going to confess to Boss  no matter what.” 
He must mean you. Rin often hears how some of the people in the club affectionately add danchou to the end of your name. Rin scoffs a little at the kids' confidence. It reminds him a little of highschool. Rin really think you’re at more of a risk than he is. Being a celebrity makes him naturally unattainable - more of a fixture than a person. 
Everytime someone confesses to you though it’s sincere. From knowing you. And he gets it but it doesn’t keep him from scoffing and turning his nose up. 
“It’d be a good idea to give up while you’re ahead.” Says another unnamed voice. 
“Yeah Nakao-san. Do you even know who Senpai's boyfriend is?” 
“N-no. But it doesn’t matter. Through the powerful of love I’ll—”
Before Rin gets a chance to listen anymore, he hears your voice call out for him. He snaps his head up to look at you. You’re dressed so professionally it’s hard to recognize you like that. Your hair is cut neat and styled professionally and you’re dressed in business casual. He’s relieved he brought shoes for you to change into. 
You run up to him anyway, and Rin stands up to make sure you don’t stumble as you throw your arms around his neck. You’re closer in height with your heels on so he doesn’t have to bend down much at all to kiss you. He pulls down his mask quickly.
“Rin-tan, you’re here.” You say with a soft, breathless giggle “I missed youuu.” 
“Missed you too,” He says, an arm squeezed around your waist “I have shoes for you in the car,”
You gasp, rubbing your cheek against his affectionately. 
“You’re the best in the world. My feet are so sore.” 
“Did the interview go well?” Rin asks. You pull away, moving your hair away from your eyes before nodding. 
“Uh-huh. The women's rugby team captain is super chill and she interviews great so it went smoothly. I just need to drop the transcript off and then we can leave,” You say holding his hand. He squeezes your palms “Do you want to meet them? You don’t have to but a lot of them ask about you.” 
Normally Rin would say no. But he’s feeling a little petty today, after all. 
“Sure.” 
You beam, your hand in his as you nudge the door open. The room goes silent, a bout of excited cheering following at your return. He’s relieved to see you’re still so well loved, a little reluctant to let go of your hand. 
“Senpai, you’re back.” 
“Yup, yup. I have the transcript and recording on this USB. Watch it and draft the article up tonight. When I come in tomorrow, we’ll go through editing and get it out by Monday.” You say, hand on hip before remembering his presence. You grab him and Rin follows “Oh, and guys - this is my boyfriend! Rin Itoshi.” 
Most of them seem to know. Rin can sense the admiration but it’s respectful. He can tell that everyone is professionals in the field. Rin likes that. He bows politely. 
“Nice to meet everyone,” 
“Nice to meet you too, Itoshi-san.” 
“Danchou…you’re dating Rin Itoshi…the famous soccer player Rin Itoshi?” 
You giggle, looping your arm in Rin’s. He laughs internally. It’s the same kid who wanted to confess to you. 
“Uh-huh. We’re highschool sweethearts! And today is our very special date night so don’t contact me for any reason until tomorrow morning at least. I’ll see you guys later.” 
“Bye, senpai.” 
“Have fun on your date.” 
With that, you turn the corner and leave the room - immediately beginning to ramble about your day. Rin half-listens. He only pays complete attention when he hears your kouhais talking from down the hall. 
“Told you to give up, dude.” 
“Rin. Are you paying attention?” 
He chuckles to himself. 
“Yeah. Sorry.” 
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❁ a/n ; hello!! me again. first of alll, if you read through this whole fic, thank you so much. second of all i want to discuss a few things about this fic.
im usually pretty keen on localization for my fics where possible because i think it makes for a smoother reader experience - however the usage of honorifics was important to the atmosphere for this one so i'll hope it wasn't too awkward to read.
secondly, im nervous about rins characterization for this one so i hope it was alright. apologies for any errors its 5am and im soo tired.
this fic was mostly meant as an exploration of how i think rin would really benefit from being with someone eccentric and bubbly. the core of their relationship is that reader is an overall emotionally intelligent and honest person and how that has a huge influence on rin so i hope that growth came thru. once again thanks for reading and i hope u enjoyed. rbs and tags always appreciated!
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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 10 months
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Studious IV (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+
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You continue reading Aemond's diary. As his true feelings for you become ever more clear, can you decipher your own feelings for him?
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)
Warnings: Aemond in his smut writer era (semi-public sex, p in v sex, tiddy suckin', riding, fingering, oral sex f receiving, bad sex)
Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! But this baby is 11K words, so hopefully that makes up for it! Also, I tried for a long time to format this like the others, but tumblr wouldn't let me post it if I did, so the formatting is a little different here.
Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here
My Masterlist
Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)
Studious IV
You were never setting foot in the library again.
Not after what you just read. Not when you were sure that the mere memory of it would have you bursting into flames the moment you crossed the threshold.
Good gods, only a few entries ago, Aemond could hardly bring himself to write the word ‘cunt,’ and now this? What in the Seven Hells were his advisors – Grand Maester Orwyle, Lord Jasper Wylde, and Prince Aegon – teaching him?
You weren’t sure whether the odd feeling in your stomach was due to how much you ate – an entire meat pie and five tea cakes, all washed down with a pot and a half of raspberry tea – or what you had just read.
Either way, it was not enough to stop you from glancing about your bedchamber to ensure no one was watching you and then rereading the entry from the beginning.
The 16th day in the 5th moon of the year.
I have just returned from the library. Grand Maester Orwyle suggested that I consult a book on anatomy. Since there was no business of court I was required to attend today, I asked one of the librarians to help me retrieve the title after I finished my training.
I also found a few books Aegon recommended, only after I dismissed the librarian – I did not want him to know that I took those. Or that I even knew what they were. Gossip abounds in the capital, and I do not wish to be the subject of more than I already am.
By the titles alone, I am surprised Mother allows them to remain in the Keep. I likely will not read most of them. Aegon has already traumatised me quite thoroughly. I see no reason to allow him to ruin reading for me, as well. Although one title, ‘A Caution for Young Girls,’ seems innocent enough.
But the books are not why I am writing now, when my usual routine is to write immediately before I retire to bed. I just… I need to commit this to paper before it leaves me entirely.
On my way out of the library, I saw her. My wife – if I die tomorrow or in a hundred years, I shall never tire of calling her that.
She has quickly found the more private areas of the library, it seems. I would never have seen her if I had not been considering going there to read myself.
It must mean something that she did not choose just any of the countless hidden places within the maze of the library, but my favourite – a secluded alcove along the western wall. An indicator of our compatibility, perhaps. Or even a sign from the gods?
Had the books I’d been carrying not been so… unsuitable, I would have asked to join her.
No, I wouldn’t have. That would require far more courage than I can summon when I see her.
I just stared at her, watching her face as she read. From where I stood, I could not see what she was reading. But I could see her, and that was enough.
She is so expressive! I saw her both smile and frown in quick succession, and once, her entire face scrunched in displeasure as if she had just taken a bite of lemon! Gods, how can even such an unpleasant expression be so beautiful?
Perhaps I should not have watched her at all, for the longer I stood there, the further my mind drifted. And then, I heard Aegon’s voice, as clearly as if he were standing beside me.
‘Don’t limit yourself to the bedchamber brother, or even the bed! A wall or a table serves just as well. And there is a certain thrill to knowing you could be discovered…’
Damn him. Why did I ever ask for his assistance? I would have been better off enlisting the help of an actual whore! At least then, the vulgarity would not come from the future King. Damn him to the deepest of the Seven Hells.
But that stupid advice echoed in my mind over and over. And against my will and better judgement, an image began to form. A dream – a waking dream.
Though my feet remained planted on the floor, I imagined setting aside my books and joining her in that alcove. She would look up and smile upon hearing my approach, perhaps even giggle at my attempt at stealth.
I would sit beside her and ask what she was reading. I might even ask her to read to me. But I would not let her read for long.
I would kiss her while she read. Not on her lips but all over her perfect face. Her cheeks, her forehead, on the tip of her nose. All just to distract her, to make her laugh. Only when she made so much noise that I feared discovery would I kiss her lips to quiet her and finally claim my prize.
The kiss would not be like in the Sept, or in her chambers that night. Instead, she would kiss me back and open herself to me. I would kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Until we were both out of breath but still wanting more.
Seeing her like that, with her lips swollen and cheeks flushed… I would not be able to wait until we returned to our chambers. I would lift her onto that very table, books be damned.
Like our wedding night, we would not undress. We would be in too much of a hurry.
But even hurried, I would be gentle. I would take the time to prepare her, as Lord Wylde said I must do every time. Doing so makes the experience more pleasurable for the woman, he says. And Orwyle added that her enjoyment makes it more likely that the coupling will be fruitful.
Gods, I hardly care about that anymore. Of course, I want an heir, or several. But I want her more. I want her to feel as much pleasure as I do. To ‘peak,’ as Wylde and Orwyle put it. Aegon uses other words, but I find them too vulgar.
And in the library, making an heir would be the last thing on my mind. Even finding my own pleasure would be secondary. I would use my fingers to prepare her – perhaps get her to peak once before I even enter her?
Aegon says women can find release much more than men can. According to him, he once made a woman peak ten times in one night. I would be more amenable to believing him if he didn’t also claim he did so five times. But maybe he is right about ‘practising’ increasing stamina. Though he has had years of practice, and I have had only two days…
But in the dream world where I have the courage to approach her at all, and the gall to bed her in the library of all places (can you call it ‘bedding’ if it is not done in an actual bed?), I also have that stamina. And the skill to indeed make her peak with just my fingers.
I do not know what sounds she would make, as she was entirely silent on our wedding night, but I would want her to make them. I would want her to make such noise that I would have no choice but to kiss her to quiet her and keep her from drawing the attention of the rest of the library.
Even when I was buried within her, I would kiss her. With one arm wrapped around her hips to hold her steady as I fucked her so hard the table would shake, and the other hand tangled in her hair so I could kiss her just as hard.
I want to kiss her so badly. When I finally go to her again, that is what I will do first.
Once we had both finished – for I would ensure she peaked again with me inside her – I would kiss her more, softly, until our breathing steadied. Then, we would simply take our seats again, and this time, I would read to her.
By all the Seven, what has become of me? To not only have such thoughts but to revel in them as I do?
You didn’t bother reading the rest of the entry again before clutching the diary to your chest and staring at the bed canopy above you as a thousand questions burned through your mind and set your heart racing.
Had he been thinking about that the day he came to you in the library?
Was it what he intended to do, had you not reacted so poorly to his words?
Were you really wishing that he had?
You turned on your side, cradling his diary as you once did a small stuffed pony, and noticed for the first time that night had fallen – you had spent nearly the entire day reading. For a moment, you considered running to Aemond’s chambers. But when you looked back at the journal, there were still more than a dozen ribbons shut in its pages.
And if you went to him just after reading what you did…
Whatever was becoming of Aemond, no doubt thanks to the men he had asked for help in better bedding you, by reading his diary and the most private thoughts and fantasies contained within, it was becoming of you too. For when your eyes drifted closed, Aemond’s dream of the library became your dream as well.
-
The next several days of entries were almost identical.
Aemond woke at dawn after a night of dreams filled with you. They were not always of a carnal nature. Sometimes he dreamed simply of holding or kissing you. Once, he dreamed about flying with you atop his dragon. You didn’t know whether the prospect was thrilling or terrifying. Perhaps both.
Each day, he broke his fast, trained, then ate a small meal before joining court.
Before joining you.
When he wrote in the diary after dinner and several hours of studying and ‘practising’ (you still could not determine what that meant), he still remembered every little thing you did. You had never spoken at court – it was not your place to. But he had catalogued your every movement and reaction to the business of the realm. Every raise of your brows, every repressed smile, and every curious tilt of your head.
You thought you were quite proficient at maintaining a regal mask of indifference. Your mother had you practice it on the journey to King’s Landing while she commanded your brothers to shout at you the most outrageous things they could think of (much of which she promptly scolded them for when they were done).
But Aemond saw through the mask. Not only that, but he correctly interpreted every movement you made.
He knew that the twitch of your lip when Lord Bolton made a petition was a sign of your marked distaste for the man. He knew the scrunch of your brow upon the reading of a missive from a Pentosi diplomat was you noticing a contradiction from the previous message and realising the diplomat was lying. And he knew that you stiffened every time he looked at you because you were nervous about what he would say or do.
Aemond knew you. Even then.
And yet you had so dreadfully misunderstood him.
The shame of it was enough to make you set down the diary and call for a bath – a private bath, without any of your maids present even in the adjourning rooms. You gave an excuse that you were exhausted and simply wished to remain alone.
But really?
As part of his study of the anatomy book Orwyle recommended, Aemond had drawn a diagram of what lay between a woman’s legs. And annotated it based on the advice of Lord Wylde and Prince Aegon.
You were curious to see – with the aid of a hand mirror – just how accurate the diagram and annotations were.
-
You awoke the following morning feeling more refreshed than you had since you came to the palace, from both the welcome break in your courtly duties and the exploration you had conducted in the privacy of your bath. Though you were fairly sure you did not reach a ‘peak,’ as Aemond described it, you felt close to the height of something several times. But each time, you panicked at the intensity of the racing feelings within you and withdrew your hand. Still, those few minutes of pleasure were incredibly relaxing.
And as it was Aemond’s notes that allowed you to discover the feeling that your own clumsy attempts had failed to bring, the prospect that you would – eventually – once more join him in his bed became thrilling beyond reason.
In truth, the only thing that stopped you from rushing across the castle the very moment you emerged from the bath was the unfortunate fact that you were still bleeding, though it was light.
More than that, while your body was more than ready to forgive Aemond, your heart and mind were still hesitant. He had hurt you. He made you cry. Reading his diary helped you understand that it had never been intentional. However, you still needed to understand everything before making a final decision on whether to forgive him and if you could, as Aemond hoped in his note, ‘learn to like’ or even to love him.
So, after breaking your fast, you again settled into the couch and turned to the next green ribbon.
The 23rd day in the 5th moon of the year
Were Aegon not my brother and the heir, I would throw him from the top of the Rookery.
‘A Caution for Young Girls’ is no such thing. It is little more than a manual in promiscuity and sin!
But… damn him. It is quite educational.
Unlike the book Grand Maester Orwyle suggested, it is not focused on the science of anatomy or conception. Rather, it is entirely concerned with the pleasure of women. After all, it is the supposedly true story of a woman’s quest for pleasure.
A Wylde woman, if it is to be believed. I may have to ask Lord Jasper about it. Is this why he’s had such success with his own wives?
But that, and indeed the sinful nature of the book itself, is unimportant. What is important is that it may actually be the key to my learning how to pleasure my wife.
It spoke at length of various methods of using one’s fingers. Crooking the fingers while within seems to be crucial, as is locating a ‘sweet spot’ where her walls feel slightly different. That spot, as well as the ‘pearl’ which lays at the top of her sex, is the epicentre of her pleasure.
And, like the others said, preparation is required. This is where the use of the fingers comes into it – as well as various other methods. For example, the book mentions kissing quite often, and not only on the lips. Or the cheeks. Or even anywhere on the face.
I admit the idea, though it is new to me, is quite appealing. The book mentioned several places where women most like to be kissed. The jaw, the throat, behind the ear, the nape of the neck, the collarbone…
There was a spot of ink, as though Aemond’s pen had been resting on the page without moving for a long moment.
…the breasts, and lower.
I do not understand why. Perhaps it is because of Aegon’s incessant comments about the breasts of every woman in the Keep, save our mother and his wife – would that he would also exclude my wife! – but I find myself thinking about her breasts with startling frequency. I did not get to see them on our wedding night after I foolishly forgot to undress her.
There is a story in the book which… well, I find myself wanting to replicate. One which would provide me ample access to her breasts. But more than that, it carries an intimacy which I crave most of all.
When Lady Coryanne was serving as a handmaid to a warlock in Qarth, she often found herself called to help him ‘relax’ after a long day. On such occasions, she would mount him while he sat at his desk and ‘ride’ him while he buried his face in her breasts.
I… it was easy to imagine my wife and me in a similar, though more loving, position. Likely not at my desk, as I don’t actually use it often. But perhaps, here. On my chair by the hearth, where I read my books and write in this diary before bed.
She would come back – for she would be living here, with me, not across the Holdfast and so far away – after a long day. Maybe she would have been in the gardens, or with Mother, Helaena and the children, or in the library for hours. I would have been stuck away from her all day in meetings, court, or training.
Even apart from her for only a day, I would miss her terribly. As I do every hour I do not see her. And she would miss me too.
When she came in, she would press herself against the door as she locked it, then turn to me with a mischievous grin. I would know what she wanted, but I would not play along. Instead, I’d mutter a greeting and turn back to my book, pretending that my blood was not racing at just the sight of her. For I want her blood to be as heated as mine.
You read the last paragraph again, the realisation finally set in that Aemond was about to narrate another of his fantasies. Fortunately, after his previous entry about the library, you decided to be more cautious and had already dismissed your servants until your afternoon meal. You had suspected that there may be more in the diary that was thoroughly unsuitable for prying eyes.
And, thanks to his diligent notetaking, you knew precisely what to do when the feelings such unsuitable words provoked began to burn through you.
You undoubtedly did not want an audience for that…
I would let her tease me, pretending none of it fazed me. When she brushed her fingers lightly across my shoulders, I would not flinch. When she leaned over me further than she would really need to see what I was reading, but wanting me to see that peek of her breasts nearly spilling out from her dress, I would barely look. And when she pressed a kiss, long and slow, to my neck – gods, would I like that too? – I might even pretend it was an inconvenience.
It would vex her that I did not give her the attention she desperately wanted. Not enough to truly anger her, but only enough to make her pout. So that when she took the book from my hands and dropped it to the floor, then sat atop me in the chair with her thighs straddling mine… I would simply have no choice but to grab her little lip as she stuck it out and push it back into place before kissing her.
I would kiss her in every place the book instructs, taking my time to worship every bit of her. I want to drive her as mad as she does me just by her mere existence.
But I know she would not simply let me tease her. She would return each kiss I gave her and more. Atop me, she would roll her hips slowly, purposefully, as if we were engaged in a dance. I would be able to feel her, hot and wet and as eager as me, but each time I rose to meet her, she would pull away.
Gods, am I really wishing for her to deny me? Perhaps practising as Aegon instructed has conditioned me to crave such delays to my satisfaction.
Either way, I think I would break before she did. She is strong-willed, and with as many brothers as she has, I believe she can be quite patient. So, I would beg. I would apologise for trying to tease her and plead for her forgiveness. And for her to…
She would, I hope, without hesitation. She would rise only long enough for her to remove her smallclothes and for me to do away with my trousers. Then, we would both sit again, together, with me gently guiding her down to mount me – Seven Hells, that makes it sound like I’m a horse.
I’ll be whatever she wants.
Again, and as always, I would give her a moment to adjust and make sure she is comfortable. Orwyle’s book said that with well-endowed partners – which, according to the measurements in the book, I am – women may always need that moment.
But I would be glad to give it to her. For it would allow me to unlace her bodice, and like the warlock from the book, I could bury my face in my beloved’s breasts.
I find it hard to imagine what it would be like, how they would feel. Soft, I think. Warm, as she is. And perhaps, if I pressed close enough, I could hear her heart beating.
When I was fully settled within her, would I hear it beat faster? Or would it slow with contentment, knowing she was safe and loved – oh so dearly loved – within my arms. Perhaps it would be like the stories, and I would hear it skip a beat.
Either way, I would be more than content to just sit there, breathe her in, and let her move at her own pace. We would not need to be fast, as we would in the library. In my own rooms – our rooms – there would be no need for hurry. We could just stay there, entwined, or we could move together.
I think I would prefer it slowly. Not even seeking our releases, really. Just… enjoying each other. Enjoying the connection of our bodies, our minds, and our souls. Knowing that we are one, that the gods have made us one, and that nothing can tear us apart.
Although… I do think her legs would get tired after a while. That is something I should perhaps be worried about. Especially if she did want to move, and fast. To seek release.
If she did, I would help her. The book did not detail how, as Lady Coryanne was a servant at the time, but… I could figure it out. I could move my hips up to meet hers, or even lift her on my own? I think doing so with my hands on her hips would give me the most leverage. Or perhaps her rear?
I am very drawn to the idea of holding her close as we reach our peaks. Of feeling her breath on my skin, being close enough to hear each little noise she makes, and the sensation of her gripping me as tight as she can as she comes. Even the thought of her nails digging into me brings a certain thrill. And if I don’t reach my peak with her – which, I think, is very unlikely – we can always continue. Or move somewhere more comfortable if her legs do get tired.
At this point, I think I am more than ready to practice. Of course, this wasn’t my intention when I started writing, but… yes, I am most definitely ready. And anything else I wanted to write about seems inconsequential now.
You dropped the diary onto your heaving chest, the image Aemond’s words had painted still burning in your mind. Seven Hells, you could practically feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as you moved together, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered words of praise between desperate kisses.
With a hazy smile, you snuggled further into the couch and beneath your blanket. As exhilarating as the descriptions of his desires were, what truly warmed your heart was the way he wrote about you, the two of you together.
The connection of your souls as one? It was exactly what you’d dreamed of when first told of your betrothal. Aemond was what you dreamed of.
Why did he have to stop writing? What in the name of the Seven was he practising that was more important than that?
Frustrated and with your pleasure now truly over, you closed the diary and turned on your side, resigned to simply stewing in your own thoughts for the few hours left until your maids returned.
-
After a light, solitary afternoon meal, you again dismissed your maids. By this point, they were more than a little suspicious about the titleless book you were reading. But, you insisted that you simply wanted to be alone, for your moon’s blood still plagued you. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You did still have some cramping and a slight headache.
In truth, it was because you knew what would happen in just a few entries – your second night together.
It surely wouldn’t be as thrilling as some of his other fantasies. You knew that firsthand. But after learning what Aemond felt for you, you were desperate to know his side of that night.
So desperate, in fact, that you barely skimmed the following two entries in your haste to reach it. Both primarily had to do with whatever smut he had read in A Caution for Young Girls. The first was a rather exhaustive list of all the ways he wanted to kiss you – and there were far more ways than you were previously aware of.
The second caused your most intense blushing yet, for it was near treasonous! After reading another story of Coryanne Wylde ‘riding’ a man, he fantasised about you riding him while he sat on the Iron Throne. It was an intriguing idea, but it seemed a little too hazardous to tempt you.
Finally, you reached what you had been waiting for.
The 26th day in the 5th moon of the year.
I had hoped not to make an entry today – for I had every intention of spending tonight in my wife’s chambers. But she is there, and tragically, I am here.
Tonight was almost worse than our wedding night.
When I saw her watching me in the training yard today, I thought… she was almost smiling – at me! She had no obligation to be there, and yet she was! She sought me out! She wanted to see me!
I had to bite back a cry of joy and relief. I immediately abandoned the rest of my training, nearly impaling the poor squire with my sword for how hard I threw it at him, so I could rush to the ramparts and greet her.
But when I got there, she was gone. I asked a few of the other lords and ladies that were there, but no one knew where she went. Even after speaking to her, however briefly, I still do not understand why she left.
You felt your cheeks flush with shame. Aemond hadn’t grimaced at you that day – quite the opposite. He had been so excited to see you there, and as usual, you had misinterpreted his reaction.
Or, based on how frequently these misunderstandings occurred, perhaps his expressions were merely indecipherable to normal people. Or, more likely, maybe just to you.
You set his diary down, careful to use one of your discarded ribbons to mark your place, and picked up your own. By this point, you had filled several pages with your reactions to Aemond’s writing – some of it sincere, some bordering on humour.
Yet you had no words to express how sorry you were that you had so thoroughly misjudged him. So you wrote nothing and just kept reading.
When I went to her chambers to check on her, I encountered one of her maids, who told me she had retired early with a headache and would not be joining the family for dinner.
Perhaps I should have gone into her chambers then and asked what was wrong. I knew – or at least suspected – that the headache was a lie. An excuse to allow her privacy. I often do the same, citing my scar. Which, as I told her, is not always a lie.
But if I had gone to her, as I wished. I would not have known what to say. Ask her why she ran from the training yard without speaking to me? Or why she wanted to avoid me and the family? Tell her I’m sorry for the disappointment of our wedding night? Ask Beg for a second chance?
I could not do it. I was tired from training and admittedly still somewhat discombobulated from realising she had been watching me. Though I did make it to her door, I merely touched the handle for a moment before retiring to my own chambers.
Now, after yet another disastrous visit… I should have gone to her earlier. I should have trusted my instincts (as Aegon often encourages me to do) instead of allowing my mind to think itself into an inescapable hole.
As I bathed and redressed, and even while attending court and dinner, I could not stop thinking about her. Agonising over what I may have done to make her flee from me?
I never even considered that she may actually have a headache until I was again at her door after dinner. The fear that I was disturbing her, perhaps making her pain worse, was nearly enough to make me turn and flee.
But then, her voice came, soft and light and so enticing. Of course, I somehow managed to answer idiotically when she asked who it was. Though she lessened the sting of embarrassment with a small joke. She is so achingly clever!
I asked her how she was, and her answer made it evident that the headache was a ruse. I am trying not to be too proud that my deduction was correct. She is not used to lying, nor is she good at it. And it is yet another thing I admire about her.
For hours, I planned what I would say to her. It was eloquent and thoughtful – practically poetry.   
The tail of the last ‘y’ extended nearly an inch, and you imagined Aemond just staring at the page, consumed by his thoughts for a moment.
But her room looked different tonight. She finally unpacked.
There is a large tapestry above her hearth depicting her home keep, the field below filled with vibrant pink flowers with bright yellow centres. The same flowers appear nearly everywhere. On framed examples of embroidery, on her curtains, pillows, and even the blanket strewn over the back of her couch.
I must find out what they are, for they are clearly very important to her.
You looked up from the diary, glancing about your room. Indeed, you had not realised how many dog roses decorated your possessions. It was no wonder he guessed they were your favourite.
‘I was quite impressed when you brought me my favourite flower,’ you wrote in your diary. ‘I thought you had somehow read my thoughts. I suppose I made it easy for you.’
She also has a large bookcase in her sitting room, which was specifically requested when her father sent word accepting the betrothal. Since the last time I was in her chambers, she has begun to fill the shelves with books and trinkets. I spotted a small silver bell, a wooden box carved with various birds, and a little glass flower. It was not the same flower that is so prevalent elsewhere in her chambers (this one was a pale purple rather than pink), but still quite pretty.
While pondering that flower, I returned to the couch to compare it to the pink flower on her blanket and saw what she had been reading – “The Last Dragonlords,” my first, and still favourite, history of my house. It is not a particularly rigorous academic work, but I prefer it for the sense of wonder it has for the story of my ancestors.
If, at that point, I remembered any of what I wanted to say to her, the sight of that book, and the knowledge that she was somehow reading my favourite… I lost all words. I fear I fell silent for an uncomfortably long time, for she spoke next.
She wanted to know the reason for my visit. I asked her directly about the ruse of her headache. She seemed nervous, so I told her I do the same and that I often experience lingering pain. I was tempted to remove my patch and show her, but… she was already quite nervous. I did not want to make her more so, or frighten her so thoroughly that she will never warm to me.
What lay beneath his eyepatch that would frighten you so? You had heard many rumours. That his lost eye was nothing more than a pit of darkness. That he had replaced it with a jewel. That an ever-burning fire, fueled by his hatred and rage, burned within.
Despite the stories, you felt a twinge of shame and hurt that, despite his love for you, he did not trust you with seeing him truly bare. He thought you could be frightened away.
Somehow, that shame far overshadowed any curiosity or fear about what lay beneath the brown leather of his eyepatch.
I could already tell it wasn’t going to go how I wanted – she would not meet my eye. So, I offered to leave. I would not impose myself on her when she did not want me to. That is not how I want to start this. Or, start it again.
But she did want me to go! At least, that is what I thought she meant. I am not so sure anymore. She said something about my right to be there as her husband. At the time, I thought it was her shy way of asking me to stay. Now… I think she may have just been repeating something her mother or a Septa taught her.
There was another small patch of angry scribbles.
I’m so stupid! And hardly better than Aegon. No – she may not have been particularly enthusiastic, but I am sure if she genuinely did not want me there, she would have said so. And I would have obeyed. After all, she was quick to ask me to stop some of the other things I tried to do.
She did not like the kissing.
When I first mentioned that I would like to lie with her – which I foolishly reasoned was out of my desire for an heir instead of my desire for her – she simply laid on the bed like on our wedding night. But that is not what I want. I do not want this to simply be a union of duty! At least, not anymore. And I so wanted to kiss her.
So, I beckoned her to me, and she obeyed. My hopes that this would be different were still relatively high. I got closer, touched her face, and asked if I could kiss her.
And she asked, ‘Why?’
I swear that one little word hurt more than any pain I’ve felt in the training yard. Almost more than… well, not quite more than that. But close.
I could not think of any reason other than that she is my wife, and I love her and want more than anything to kiss her. I only told her the former and the latter, for I think if I told her I loved her, she would have been more afraid than if she had seen me without my patch. And the gods must be good, for she said yes.
Then I kissed her. I held her close, and I kissed her.
It was the most wonderful thing! She was soft and warm. And when I laced my hand through her hair, she made the most delightful sound! I could have just kissed her forever.
But then it was over. She shouted and pushed me away. It was… it was just after I tried to use my tongue. I don’t think she liked it.
She asked me why I ‘needed’ to kiss her. She must have disliked it very much.
I had no other explanation than what I had already offered. At least, none that I could tell her without sending her running from me forever. So I stopped and told her I did not need it – the first lie I’ve ever told her.
When she moved back to the bed, I could not help myself. I could not let us be in a marriage where we lie together out of nothing more than duty, fully clothed and anxious to get it over with. It was foolish, and I probably scared her with the request, but I asked her to remove her nightgown. She had already taken off her robe – a massive thing in her house colours that practically drowns her.
You allowed a brief kernel of anger to spark within you, enough for you to pick up your pen and write him another little message in your diary.
‘That robe is dear to me, thank you very much. What is it that makes you hate it so?’
There is nothing more beautiful in the world than her. She puts even the Maiden to shame. I would have been happy to stare at her, to take in that beauty until I had my fill – if I would ever get my fill.
She got on the bed and positioned herself exactly how she was on our wedding night. Not quite how I pictured it, but considering her hesitancy, I did not want to push her.
It took all my control to stop myself from kissing her again when I undressed and joined her. But I did. I also resisted doing anything more than just looking at her breasts.
I sat between her legs and stared at her. While I was more than ready to begin, she was not. At all. Of course, I knew I would have to prepare her, but I hoped she would have had at least some desire for me already.
I started with gentle touches, drawing circles on her thighs. She shivered a bit when I began, but she didn’t ask me to stop. From where I was sitting, I could tell she enjoyed it, even if she didn’t understand it. She did ask me to explain, and my answer was probably lacking – how does one explain why he was so inadequate? – but she gave a small nod when I promised that tonight would be better.
Then I finally touched her where I really wanted to and was delighted to find her… well, not as wet as I’d hoped, but it was an improvement upon our wedding night! I ran my fingers over her entrance, hoping to coax more wetness from her before I truly began. And when I looked at her again to ensure I wasn’t hurting her, she smiled at me!
Encouraged, I kept my fingers at her entrance, not venturing inside yet, but continuing my preparations there while I began to seek her pearl. As the books said, I only had to draw a straight line upward from her entrance to find it.
And, oh, when I found it! Her eyes snapped shut, her back arched off the bed, and the most glorious whine escaped her! It was everything I had imagined and more. Gods, I think I could have peaked just from watching her as I circled her pearl again and again, faster and faster.
But then, she asked me to stop – begged me to.
I thought I must have done something wrong, but she shook her head when I asked if it hurt. And when I asked if it felt good, she would not answer. She merely requested that I get on with what I needed to do and leave, for she was tired. This wound cut even deeper than before with the kissing.
I wanted to prepare her more – I was going to use my mouth on her. To show her how dearly I wish to please her, how much I want to worship and love her, if only she’d let me.
In anticipation of that act, I have been consulting Coryanne Wylde’s various accounts and expert critiques of the act in order to form the perfect strategy.
To begin, I would undress her, as I planned to do on our wedding night, laying gentle, nearly chaste kisses on each new bit of skin I revealed. Once she was bare, I would kiss her. Deeply. To give her a taste of what is to come. Then, I would kiss my way down. Her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, and the plane of her stomach.
Once I made it past her navel, I would take her leg in my hand and begin a new trail of kisses upwards. The book says to start at the ankle, but I am too impatient for that – I will begin at the knee instead.
Just when she thought I was finally about to give her what she craved more than anything, I would once again change course to kiss her lips one final time. Then, I would descend.
I would start slowly, experimenting with different tactics to determine what drives her deliciously mad. Once I knew, I would feast. I would devour her like her pleasure was the air I needed to breathe. Like her cries of pleasure were beautiful music, and I would die if it ever stopped.
I would bring her to peak once with my mouth on her entrance. Again on her pearl. Then again and again in whichever way made her scream the loudest.
Only when she was so drunk with pleasure that she could no longer rise to meet my mouth or grasp at my hair would I relent. I would make my way back up to her mouth and soothe her with gentle kisses until she had regained herself and was begging for me to finally fuck her.
But I didn’t get to do any of that.
She asked me to stop, so I did. I pumped myself a little to ensure the disappointment hadn’t rendered me incapable of performing my duty and entered her.
The preparation did help. Entering her was easier, and she did not wince as much as the first time. And she felt even more heavenly somehow. The feeling was so intense that I had to take a moment to remind myself that she only wanted me to finish quickly so she would not have to endure me any longer.
So, I fucked her. I did not make love to her, as is my true desire. I just fucked her, like she was just any woman and not the love of my life.
And then, a miracle! I thrust into her, something about the angle allowing me in quite deep, and she reacted. She gasped, breathless, and her hips snapped up to meet mine. I froze in surprise and elation. I found her ‘sweet spot!’
But when I smiled at her, she turned away and refused to look at me again.
I just kept going. I did not try to hit that spot again, so as to not upset her further. I finished as quickly as I could and left the bed.
It was stupid of me, but I turned back to her after dressing. Everything had gone so horribly, but I still love her. I still need her. So I could not just leave her like that.
I asked if I could kiss her again. She let me. I was quick, as promised.
Then I came back here, once again alone and no closer to earning her love than I was before.
I must meet with my advisors again tomorrow. Perhaps they can help me understand why I keep fucking this up so badly when all I want is for her to let me love her the way I want to and for her to love me in return.
Your heart ached so severely that you thought there might be bruises when you looked down at your chest. But there was just skin – skin that Aemond would have happily kissed, had you let him.
As horrible and confusing as that night had been for you, it had been so tenfold for Aemond. He had wanted a grand, romantic evening, and you had greeted him with only coldness and suspicion.
He called you ‘the love of his life.’ You ran your finger over those words so many times that they became smudged, then went to write something in your diary but halted with your pen hovering over the paper.
What could you write to match what he’d said about you? Even if you could, would it really be true? How many times could you say, ‘I’m sorry?’
Well, at least one more time. ‘I’m so sorry, Aemond,’ you wrote, ‘I didn’t know, and I was still scared. Not of you, but of what I thought my life was to be. If you had only told me… I do not blame you, I swear. I just wish the both of us had been more honest with each other.’
You were far too exhausted to continue. It was not yet midafternoon, and you had already been from the near-heights of carnal pleasure to the depths of your despair that the unfortunate state of your marriage was, in actuality, mostly your fault.
So, after setting Aemond’s diary aside, you picked up your embroidery basket and began to work while your mind wandered.
It was only when your maids arrived to bring you dinner that you realised that, somehow, the dog roses you intended to make had become a sprawling wisteria vine.
-
You dreamed of the castle garden in late spring when all the flowers were in bloom. As you walked down the garden path, you saw every colour imaginable amongst the vibrant greens. But there was only one flower you really wanted to see – and the man you knew would be waiting for you beneath them.
Just as the first purple tendrils came into view, the dream faded, and you woke to see the first hints of dawn still beneath the horizon.
Drawing your blankets over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and stubbornly tried to fall back asleep and return to your dream – to no avail. You were well and truly awake. And it would be some time before your maids came to dress you for the day.
So, dragging the blanket from your bed with you, you trudged back into your solar and settled into the couch before picking up Aemond’s diary again.
The 27th day in the 5th moon of the year
I met with Lord Wylde, Grand Maester Orwyle, and Aegon this morning. They had advice, but it was not as… straightforward as I had hoped. There is no simple trick to get her to love me. Nothing I can study from a book and then implement with assured success.
I have to woo her. I have to be witty and pleasant and charming and… romantic.
I do not think this is going to work.
Especially not after my first attempt was so disastrous.
Lord Wylde asked that I tell him about her, so I did. When he learned she enjoys reading as much as I do, he suggested I try to find common ground there. So, I went to try and find her in the library.
She was exactly where she was the last time I saw her there, still reading “The Last Dragonlords.” I watched her for a moment, savouring the look of contentment on her face as she read, as well as a few quick reactions to the book. How I love it when her nose scrunches in displeasure!
‘That is quite the odd thing to fixate on,’ you wrote in your diary. It seemed a decent night’s sleep had helped recover some of your humour. ‘What is it, in particular, that you like about my scrunched nose?’
She did smile at me when I approached, but I think she thought I was a Maester, for her smile faltered when I greeted her. And she was so shy. Usually, when I struggle to find the right words, she breaks the silence. Today, she did not.
At least it gave me time to remember why I came to the library. She was still reading “The Last Dragonlords,” so I told her it was my favourite and asked if I could join her. I think she was somewhat embarrassed about reading a children’s book, but I assured her it was no matter and that I would nonetheless enjoy reading it with her, and she allowed me to sit with her.
My plan was to sit with her, discuss the histories, and perhaps, in time, hold her hand as a first step toward genuine affection. But the plan quickly went awry.
It all happened so fast that I don’t even remember exactly what I said. But somehow, I insinuated that she was not intelligent enough to understand the book. The book meant for children – young children.
She was very upset with me. Rightfully so! Still upset enough that she stormed out of the library after making several cutting remarks that proved that she is, in fact, quite intelligent.
After several minutes and a brief reprimand from one of the Maesters, I finally gathered myself enough to realise that she had left the book there. As well as several pages of notes.
Of course, the noble thing would have been to not look and ask a servant to return them to her. But in that moment, I was desperate, not noble. So, I looked.
Her notes were beautifully organised and remarkably thorough – the work of a true scholar! She even crafted a beautiful family tree all the way through Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. Had I not fumbled our initial interaction so entirely, we would have had a wonderful discussion.
You had feared him finding the notes, but you had never considered that he would be impressed rather than arrogantly amused. It made sense now that you knew his true nature. Perhaps, once whatever was between you was resolved, you could have that discussion.
In all honesty, there were a few questions you had that you hoped he would be able to answer. Not least of which being why in more than a thousand years, Targaryens had only come up with a dozen names that they repeated over and over again. You wrote as much in your diary.
It was useless for me to sulk in the library, agonising over what I should have said, so I gathered the book and her notes and left the library.
An apology was more than necessary, so I went to Aegon’s rooms. After all, there is perhaps no one with more experience apologising to women. Even if his apologies are self-serving.
When I arrived, I found Mother had already found Aegon first, and was well into another tirade about his behaviour. Normally, I would be happy to watch Mother yelling at him, but I did not feel I had time to. And Aegon was glad that I granted him a reprieve.
Admittedly, I had not wanted to admit to Mother that my wife and I were… not as close as I wanted. But, as she always is, she was eminently understanding, and far more helpful than Aegon was. His only suggestion was to bring her something nice – jewels, silks, or the like.
On the other hand, Mother gave me sage advice on what to say when I go to her. As my words have been my primary point of failure, I was very grateful for this. She did also say that a gift would not be amiss. An ‘offering of peace,’ she called it. But she advised something personal, not luxurious. If the gift is too valuable, she says, it will seem as if I am trying to buy her forgiveness rather than earn it.
I knew immediately what I should get her. I thanked Mother (and Aegon) and left at once for the gardens.
I found them – the flowers she loves so dearly. Dog roses, they are called. Unfortunately, they do not grow well in our climate, but the Maester’s managed to coax a few to bloom with their various potions and other horticultural creations.
They are almost as beautiful as her.
The Maester I spoke to said that it would be best if I had them cut just before I brought them to her, to preserve their beauty. So that is what I will do.
I will not practice tonight. At least… not that kind of practice. Instead, I will rehearse my apology. I cannot fail tomorrow.
You winced slightly, knowing that the next day would not go as Aemond planned and feeling as though it was your fault. But there was no changing that now. And you had already apologised – often and profusely.
So, you wrote only a simple note: ‘I don’t recall seeing dog roses on our tour of the gardens. Did you pluck them all?’
Looking back at his diary, you took a deep, steadying breath. Only two ribbons left.
The 28th day in the 5th moon of the year
I am the stupidest, most idiotic man in all the seven fucking kingdoms.
All I was trying to do was apologise to her for my unkind – though unintentionally so! – words in the library, but somehow it ended with her crying and me fleeing from her chambers yet again.
You cringed at the memory, almost not wanting to read on.
Aegon gladly offered his explanation, even after I told him I did not want it. He insists that I have so thoroughly repulsed her that she cannot help but burst into tears at the sight of me.
Mother thinks that she is just missing her family and her home, as she said. That she is overwhelmed by being alone in a strange place, and the familiar sight of the flowers – dog roses, as I have learned – brought those feelings to bursting.
Perhaps Mother is right. But her parents left a fortnight ago, and she has shown no other signs of homesickness. And she is not alone! She has the other ladies of the court to talk to, and Helaena and Mother adore her. And me.
If she came to me, I would do anything to cheer her. Not that she would seek comfort from me, no matter how dearly I wish she would. She certainly won’t after today.
After the disaster in the library yesterday and the scolding I received from Grand Maester Orwyle after my training this morning, I knew beyond a doubt that I needed to apologise. I… the shame I feel for having played any part in the state Orwyle described her in is unbearable.
So, I went to the gardens and had a Maester cut the flowers for me and arrange them in a simple bouquet.
She was on her couch when I arrived in her rooms – still in her nightgown and that robe. And again, she did not look at me. She had eyes only for the flowers. I thought then that they had been the right choice.
I apologised, but she did not react. She still just stared at the bouquet. So, I went ahead with the rest of my apology.
Then she touched my hand. It startled me, and I pulled away from her on instinct, dropping the bouquet in her lap. She looked at them like I had dropped a helpless kitten rather than flowers!
And she started crying. Softly, the tears welling in her eyes for a long moment before spilling over. I do not understand what I did to upset her. I said only what I had planned last night. It was so hard to resist brushing the tears away, but she seemed nearly volatile, and I did not want to make things worse.
‘I miss home,’ she said, finally.
It did sting that she does not consider King’s Landing and her life with me her home – it still does. But she is hundreds of miles away from the family of her birth, from the people who have undoubtedly treated her better than I have. I cannot blame her.
I apologised again for upsetting her and left.
At dinner, I had planned to ask Mother and Grandsire if we could find a way to send her home, at least for a little while. So she could be happy. Perhaps I could even go with her. I might have an easier time talking to her without the pressures of my family and the capital upon me.
You smiled at the thought of Aemond at your home keep. Of him in all his black leather among the fields of dog roses. Talking with your father in the library. Him training with your brothers – you were confident he could defeat any one of them alone, but knowing your brothers, they would absolutely gang up on him.
‘One day,’ you wrote, ‘I would love to show you my home.’
I was waiting for the opportunity to ask when she arrived! After this afternoon, I did not think she would come to dinner, but she did! I could have wept for my relief.
And when I offered my hand to her, she took it. Not only that, but she squeezed it – hard. I think believe it was her way of accepting my apology.
She did not speak during dinner, nor did anyone ask her too many questions. Aegon was his typically infuriating self, silently encouraging me to do something with her. What he expects me to do when in front of the entire family, I do not know.
After the meal, I offered to escort her back to her chambers, which she accepted. And once we were alone, she thanked me for the flowers!
It was going unusually well. That is, until I decided to open my mouth. I only meant to compliment her, as she did look quite beautiful, but… I just kept talking. And then I had suddenly insulted her gown from yesterday and her robe.
She closed herself off from me then, shoving away my arm. Why could I not just shut up? I know my words are the source of so many of our misunderstandings, yet I keep talking! At this point, I am strongly considering a vow of silence.
‘Please don’t take a vow of silence!’ you wrote, scrambling for your diary as if it mattered how quickly you got the words down. ‘Your voice is far too lovely for me to never hear it again.’
Tomorrow, I am going to try a suggestion from Lord Wylde. Show her that I am not a failure in everything I do. I pray it works.
You turned the page, expecting to find the entry for the next day, but there was none. There had been a page between the entries for the 28th and the 30th, but it had been sloppily torn out. All that remained was the beginnings of the date in the upper corner.
It was entirely against what you knew of Aemond. The man who had dutifully started his journal on the first day of the year and began each entry on a new page would not do something like this.
What had upset him so? Had you said something to him?
No, of course not. The only time you had seen him that day was in the training yard, and you hadn’t spoken to each other, not after… not after he stormed off. Had he actually been hurt in his fight with the Kingsguard? Or was he just embarrassed that you had witnessed him fall?
Gods, how you wished you had gone to him that night. But perhaps you could make up for it now.
‘After you were absent for dinner,’ you wrote to him in your diary, ‘I almost came to your rooms. I was worried for you. Though I confess, that was the only reason I found myself walking toward you… I missed you, at dinner. I missed you helping me into my chair. I missed your smile. I missed the way you’d hold the plates for me. Most of all, I missed your voice, and your presence next to me.’
You sniffled slightly, staring at a lamp on your wall to dry the tears that were forming before finishing the entry, ‘I’ve missed you these past days, as well. But I’m almost done. I’ll see you soon.’
The 30th day in the 5th moon of the year
I have made my gravest sin yet. And my most foolish.
We had the perfect morning together in the gardens. Silent, mostly, but perfect. She smiled at me! She allowed me to lead her through the gardens on my arm. It was… precisely what I had hoped for.
Until I once again acted like an absolute fucking fool.
Before I had to leave for court, I asked if I could come to her rooms that night. And for one perfect moment, I really believed she was going to say yes.
But then she mentioned her moon’s blood, and I just… panicked. I am not entirely an idiot (though I become less sure of that declaration with each passing moment), I know what that means.
It means that I’ve failed her. In even more ways than I knew.
I have made her miserable. I have made her cry. I have failed in every duty of a good husband, including the most basic of tasks – I have not given her a child.
I cannot go on like this – trapped in an endless cycle of misery where I can do nothing but hurt the both of us. I must do something to free us from this.
It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t love or even like me. I just want her to be happy. If that means that I never get to see her or love her again, I will make myself accept that.
First, she needs to know why I’ve acted this way. To know my true feelings so she can decide what she wants me to do. Gods, if she wanted me to go to Essos and never return, I would.
A blot of ink covered half the page, as though he had simply set his pen down while he thought.
I know what to do. I just pray she understands.
“I understand,” you said aloud, as though Aemond were before you. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was halfway across the castle, a distance that suddenly felt like the Narrow Sea itself. Throwing down your blanket, you shouted for your maids to dress you at once, your morning meal be damned. The moment finished tying off the last lace of your gown, you ran.
You had only been shown where Aemond’s chambers were once – on your first tour of the Holdfast. Then, you did not know whether to be disappointed or thankful that they were far from yours. Now, as your nervousness flooded through every part of your body, you hated the distance more than anything.
Each step was an effort, as with every one, your legs felt heavier and heavier, as if they were made of iron. Your blood felt as though it was rushing dangerously fast, carrying with it a marked chill. Despite feeling frozen within, sweat still somehow beaded at your brow. Yet you could not wipe it away, for your hands were all but stitched to the two diaries you carried.
Was this a terrible idea? Would Aemond laugh at you for all your silly little notes? Would he be angry with you for taking days to fulfil his request? You came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, tears prickling in your eyes as you considered so many horrible possibilities.
No, you thought, the word echoed by the impact of your foot on stone as you took a heavy, sure step forward.
The Aemond you thought you knew would do those things. But that Aemond wasn’t real – and never was. He had only ever lived in your terrified imagination.
The real Aemond was the one who had been so awestruck upon first seeing you that he could not say anything other than your name. Who had fallen for you so quickly and with such intensity that he forgot how to act like a proper person and instead stumbled over his words and actions like a drunk man through a crowded alley. Who had been so desperate for you to return his affections that he swallowed his pride to seek help. And who had finally given you his diary when he could think of no other way to show you how he really felt and who he truly was.
It was the thought of finally meeting that Aemond that made you put one foot in front of the other, faster and faster, until you were sprinting down the halls, only stopping when you came to the door you had seen only once before – his door.
You did not understand how you had found it again after only seeing it only once before. Nor did you remember knocking on the smooth, dark wood.
But then you heard footsteps approaching.
Hastily, you transferred the diaries to one hand and wiped the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of the other. You wanted to straighten your hair, for it had surely come loose from its braid after running so fast. But there was no time for that.
There was the dull, metallic sound of the door being unlatched, and then there he was.
Aemond stood before you, breathing heavily himself as though he, too, had been running. His silver hair was mussed, and there were smudges of purple beneath his widened eyes – his eyes.
He was not wearing his eyepatch.
Your mouth fell open at the sight. At least one of the rumours had been true. Beneath the raised, rough skin of his scar, in place of his lost eye, was a brilliant blue sapphire. It suited him perfectly and was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
He looked at you for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile before realising what had caught your attention so thoroughly.
“Oh gods,” he whispered, covering the sapphire with his hands and turning away. He took a few steps into the room before speaking again. “I did not mean for you to see this. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please…”
You said nothing. Silently, you moved into the room and shut the door. Aemond stared at you, his good eye watering as you approached him.
“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “You should not have had to – ” He startled when you brought your free hand up to his wrist and started trying to tug his hand away from his face. “What are you…?”
When your only response was to continue tugging, he relented, allowing you to lower his hand. He swallowed thickly, fixing his good eye on the wall behind you instead of at you. Seeing his shyness, and now knowing it for what it was, almost made you smile.
But your own shyness took hold of you as you guided his hand down and wrapped it around the spines of the twin journals you held. When you looked back up at Aemond, he was staring at them and the green ribbon that now marked a page within your diary.
“I don’t understand,” he breathed, tightening his hold on the books.
With a slight smirk, you gazed up at him and dropped your hand from the diaries. “It’s your turn.”
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spideyhexx · 3 months
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OK IVE HAD THIS THOUGHT ABOUT BILLY FOR A WHILE BUT I FEEL LIKE NOWS THE PERFECT TIME TO TELL YOU
Have you ever heard of what taking and wearing a cowboy’s hat means? It means you’ll ride him
listen I’m just saying that has such good opportunities
xoxo- 🦢
yes ive seen lots of great fics with this so let me add onto that never ending list lmao
mdni - fem!reader
thinking about this that I wrote where you steal his hat, but what would happen if you put it on when you stole it? I love this dynamic, your relationship with Billy being a rather playful and tumultuous one. From your side more than his. For Billy, he was constantly biting his tongue to keep from telling you off whenever you teased him. He can’t admit that he likes it, so he just gives you one of his forlorn stares and maybe makes a snide comment here and there. He tolerated you. That was all. You on the other hand may be completely in love with him, but that wasn't important at the moment.
And you grab his hat from his head in front of the rest of the gang and plop it right onto yours.
Billy’s eyes darken in anger towards you at first but then he realizes what you’ve done and the snickers from the other men. You don’t seem to notice, your gaze only on Billy as you back away. To some, it would look like you two are already lovers and you just openly, silently, relayed to your lover that you wanted him.
Billy would rush over to you before you could react, grabbing your forearm and tugging you away. His hold is tight but not enough to hurt you and you can't help but giggle as your eyes narrow at him.
"What's gotten into you, Bonney? Finally wanna play back?" You catch the slight shake of his head and he halts, his grip on you still there.
"Do you know what you've just done?" You tilt your head to the side, his hat too big on your head, but staying put.
"I stole your hat, Bonney and I have to say, the face you made was quite-"
"Not the...stealin' part...," Billy trails off, his jaw clenching and he searches your eyes as your brow furrows. He realizes you're actually confused as to what he's getting at and he clears his throat, "You never heard the guys joke 'bout...?" Billy's anger softens for a moment as his shoulders lose their tension. He can't believe you of all people don't know about this. He thinks you must be playing some kind of joke on him like you always are.
You shake your head, "'m tremblin' with anticipation, Bonney. Tell me."
He narrows his eyes. "If you're wearin' a cowboy's hat you...or put his hat on you...you ride him," he says, a bout of embarrassment starting to flush to his cheeks, but he forgets all about that when he sees how wide your eyes get.
"O-Oh. I see," your voice drops to a softer tone, above a whisper. This tough, playful, insufferable woman that Billy's always seen you as is getting flustered under his gaze and now he really thinks he must be dreaming. You can't believe you've never heard about this before, but now realize your impulses have caused you to not only put Billy's hat on but do so in front of all of the gang; yeah it hits you hard.
"Well, 's a joke, right? So...," and you try to wrench your arm from his grasp, but he holds on.
A little chuckle escapes his lips and he smiles, "You're flustered."
Rolling your eyes, you give him a pout, but it's apparent from your still wide eyes and the way you can't look him straight in the eyes like you always did that you were in fact flustered. "No, 'm not."
Billy chuckles again and lets go of your arm, "Yes you are. The little cowgirl's actually flustered for once. Are you thinkin' about it?"
The heat in your body increases from his words and you go to take his hat off your head, throwing it at him. You can't deny the all too familiar feeling of heat pooling in your core as you think about that act with him. How you've thought of that very fantasy before, especially the days you'd catch Billy sitting with his legs a little too spread. Billy catches his hat, but he also catches the way you shift on your feet, your jaw tensing and the slight squeeze of your thighs. Billy almost curses out loud at the filthy thought that comes to mind and the twitch of his cock in his pants, but he ignores it, "don't gotta ride me," he snorts. He's trying to be reassuring, but he's not gonna let you know that.
"Wasn't plannin' on it," and you take the chance to lock your eyes back with him, an attempt to regain your composure and turn the teasing back on him, but your head is swimming in desire right now.
"I know, but it sure got you heated, hm?" He bumps his shoulder into yours as he walks past you, starting to head back to the camp. Billy's already forgotten about the gang and how they'll tease him about this later. All he can think about is how he's finally found an upper hand with you.
"Yeah? Well, I think you'd love for me to ride you," you call out to him in a sudden impulse move (a common habit for you, it's been established).
Billy turns back, raising his brow. He hesitates for a moment, wondering just how far he wants to go with this but he decides, fuck it. He walks back up to you, sauntering as he rests his hands on his gun belt, his head is cocked to the side and the smirk on his lips is one you wish you saw all the time. "Don't think you'd be able to handle it, sweetheart."
"What makes you say that?"
You cross your arms over your chest and he smiles, looking to the side out at the setting sun before back to you, "Cause even the thought of ridin' my dick is gettin' you all squirmy. How would it be if you were actually on it, hm?" He raises his brow, waiting for you to respond, but you don't. You stare at him wide-eyed, mouth parting, then closing.
"That's what I thought," and he gives you a look, raking his eyes quickly over your body before turning and walking away.
let's chat about billy, here :)
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mellaithwen · 7 days
Text
To hum and sway (bucktommy, 1.4k words)
[read on ao3]
Spoilers/Spec-fic for 7x06 "There Goes The Groom" After the wedding that wasn’t, and the wedding that was, after the search, and the rescue, and the drama of the day, Buck finds himself sitting in the hospital waiting room when Tommy turns up...
Now that Chimney’s been moved out of the ICU, the hospital staff have kindly set up a cot bed in his room for Maddie to get some rest beside him, while Buck stands—or rather–-sits sentry outside. While his sister clearly couldn’t have predicted she’d be reading out her vows standing between a heart-rate monitor and an IV stand, Buck’s just glad she was able to read them out to Chim at all.
A nurse shuffles past Buck down the corridor, and he pulls his legs back from where they’d been obnoxiously extended in his late-night exhaustion. He runs a hand through his hair, grimacing at the bright fluorescent lights of the waiting room before stretching his neck and shoulders until he hears a satisfying pop.
His hands clench into tight fists on either side of the chair he’s sat in, and he grips them tightly until his knuckles are white and the pain of his own nails digging into the flesh of his palms is enough to distract the guilt spiral he’s been fending off all day.
Maddie and Chimney will get their big-day. Buck will make sure of it. They’ll have the party that they rightly deserve, surrounded by their friends and family. A happy day, a calm day. The quiet, intimate ceremony in their own back garden that they’d wanted all along before losing track of the guestlist. 
But that would be later. When they were both ready, and recovered. At least for now they got to wear the rings. At least they got to call each other husband and wife. 
Finally. 
“Evan?” Buck’s head shoots up from where he’d been lying back, leaning his heavy head against the wall. 
There were so few people who called him by his given name nowadays...
His parents had long since left to do what they referred to as “damage control” with the guests and venue—since the rest of the 118 were more concerned with Maddie and Chimney than appeasing distant relatives who had traveled just so gosh darn far, Evan. 
He’d corrected Bobby almost instantly on that first day so many years ago, that his name was Buck, and besides, his captain was currently driving Mr and Mrs Lee back home for the evening after spending so many hours in the same holding pattern of he’s stable—that’s the main thing—until Chimney had finally woken up and insisted with a raspy voice, that his Captain marry he and Maddie right then, right now...
And Eddie? Eddie had only ever called him Evan the once. 
(Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t think about that moment often…)
But no, it wasn’t him either; Eddie was with Hen, roaming the corridors for a vending machine that worked until Bobby came back to bully them all into finally getting into his truck and going home. So that just left…
“Tommy? W-what are you—?”
“I came as soon as I heard he’d been found. How’s Howie doing? How’s your sister?”
Buck’s brain struggles to keep up, his software in need of an update—Tommy’s here, standing in front of him. In the hospital corridor. Buck’s phone was god knows where, and with Chimney missing and his sister losing her mind with worry, he hadn’t had a chance to think about the fact he’d accidentally ghosted his date. But here he was. Standing in front of Buck like a guardian angel who’d done more than his own fair share to help in the search—all the while still wearing the clothes he’d put on as Buck’s plus one to the wedding that never happened that morning.
This is probably the closest thing to flustered he’s seen Tommy look the whole time he’s known him, and if the circumstances were different Buck thinks he would have found it endearing—but his head’s too much of a mess to even go there right now. The soft blue shirt he’s wearing is rumpled now but Buck just knows it would have been pressed and clean to start with. The slacks and matching suit jacket are both a wooly kind of mauve. Buck thinks it would have been nice to press up against the material as they slow-danced at the end of the evening. The lights would be dimmed, while the wedding band played something slow. He wonders if his parents would have noticed. He finds he also doesn’t really care.
He remembers Maddie and Chimney’s kiss under a symphony of high-pitched beeps, and the mumbled static of a tannoy announcement requesting a doctor’s presence in triage. Jee had clapped her hands in Mrs Lee’s arms before pretending to throw invisible flowers in the air just like she’d practiced with her uncle Buck.
How’s Howie doing? How’s your sister?
“They’re—” Buck falters when he finally answers, genuinely unsure in the grand scheme of things. If he were to answer literally, he’d say they were sleeping. But emotionally? Physically?  
“They’re…”
Chimney’s in the hospital. Maddie almost lost him again, and if Buck looks down, he knows he’ll find that there’s still patches of dried blood on the sleeves of his ruined pink jacket—remnants of the day, along with the pounding behind his eyes that he just can’t seem to shake. 
Tell Maddie—
No, no Chim, don’t you dare make me do that, you can tell her yourself, okay? Just stay with me. Eddie’s gone to get help and Maddie’s waiting for you to come home— 
“They’re married!” Buck finishes with a laugh that’s incredulous only so far as the circumstances of the last twenty four hours have made him seriously question his own sanity. Or maybe that’s just the last dregs of adrenaline leaving his head in a spin.
“Bobby performed the ceremony, but Chimney wore the white-gown this time.”
He’s deflecting. He’s searching for humor, for the laugh to be had at the absurdity of it all. He’s the class clown disrupting the other kids because he didn’t hear what the teacher said and he’s trying not to panic. He’s overcompensating at the academy because he has no support system to speak of in LA, and he needs this. He wants this. He can’t flunk out. He can’t fail.
He’s pushing and pushing and pushing to see where the boundary lies, to see how far he can go before he disappoints the family he’s found at the 118. He wants to know where that line in the sand is. How long until the tide comes in? How long until he drowns?
He’s….. he’s exhausted. And when Tommy tilts his head to the side and frowns, reading Buck like an open book of sad tells, suddenly the effort to keep the mask in place is too much. His shoulders slump and Buck’s whole body hunches forward with the weight of the day pressing down on him—only to find Tommy’s arms there ready to catch him when he falls. 
“He nearly died,” Buck whispers into the crook of Tommy’s neck as he’s embraced. “Chim nearly died and if we hadn’t found him when we did….” 
His voice cracks, the words seemingly too painful to even speak into the universe. Buck can’t bear to say more, and Tommy doesn’t ask him to either, he just pulls him in closer, squeezes him that little bit tighter, and holds him there for as long as he needs. He brings his hand up to the back of Buck’s neck, gently kneads at the knot he finds there. Cradles him like he’s something precious and deserving when for so long he’s convinced himself of the opposite.
After a time, when Buck’s breathing starts to even out, the hitch in his chest seemingly dissolved into the atmosphere, and the shock has thawed enough for him to feel the soft material of Tommy’s jacket under his fingertips, he finds that Tommy has been slowly moving their bodies into a sway. Leading, just a little bit—really they’re barely moving at all—but if Buck pretends, he thinks he can hear music playing. 
“You said you wanted to dance,” Tommy says; answering the question Buck hadn’t gathered up the courage to ask yet. For the first time in hours, Buck’s mind goes quiet.
“Thank you,” he whispers a little self-consciously when the words catch in his throat. 
Thank you for coming, thank you for holding me, thank you for being here with no judgment and no expectations. Thank you for caring when we barely even know each other. Thank you for treating me kindly, for being gentle and soft when all day I’ve felt like I was being strangled with barbed wire. Thank you. 
When Tommy hums in response, Buck can’t help but lean into the embrace, finding solace in his arms. He can feel the warmth of his breath drifting along the side of his neck, soothing the goosebumps that reside there. 
And when he presses a soft kiss on the stubble of Tommy’s jaw, it tickles.
-fin.
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