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ladyylesbian · 4 months

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Sorority Rules (18+)

Pairing: dom!wandanat x sub!fem!original character

Summary: ‘New Year, New Me’ can start in September...right?

Warnings: MINORS DNI! Pet names, mommy kink, daddy kink, reader has a name? (Honestly idk anymore, tell me if I missed something?)

Word Count: 11.2k

A/N: This really was just me proving something to myself, but I hope you enjoy it all the same :) Continuation of this story is on AO3

you do not have permission to translate/repost my works anywhere! all mistakes are mine and mine alone. likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome & appreciated <3

Freshman year left you beat down on the floor. You had been roomed with a girl named Hela. The two of you had hit it off instantly. In fact, you spent so much time together that everyone would know if they found one of you, then they could find the other nearby, definitely helped that you somehow had the exact same class schedule. By the end of the first semester, Hela asked you out and one week later, she asked you to be her girlfriend.

What was the happiest month turned dark and lonely. Hela spent more and more of her time focused on her sorority since being officially accepted. She had set completely insane restraints on you. You had to text her every hour whenever you were apart, it didn’t matter that she wouldn’t acknowledge your messages. She even would rarely show up at the dorm room to sleep, claiming that the sorority house was where she needed to be, but demanded a picture of you in bed every night.

You had long since given up expecting to see her anywhere but during classes, however, when she sat down with the other girls in her sorority looking you right in the eyes as she did, you finally broke. That was your time together and she was so obviously picking them.

That only snowballed into her eating lunch in the quad with them too. She took you to a few sorority parties and introduced you to her ‘favorite person’ and sorority big sister, Carol. The two were attached at the hip which quickly left you to nurse a drink off in the corner.

You didn’t have the backbone to say anything, blindly hoping she would realize how much she missed you and run back.

It wasn’t until right before the end of year finals that Hela had stayed back in the dorm room once again. The two of you would study nonstop and laugh and joke. Everything you had spent months wishing for was happening. The girl you liked was back.

After finishing your last final before Summer break, you waited for her in the hallway. Less than 15 minutes later she pushed open the classroom door and stepped out. You locked eyes and she rushed up and gave you a hug. “Thank you so much, Madelyn. I really could not have passed these finals without you.”

Smiling warmly at the raven haired girl, “Always. It’s you and me all the time. I couldn’t show up to sophomore year without you next to me.”

Her eyes fell downwards before slowly reaching yours again. “About that, Madelyn, I think we should end things. You are just in such a different place than me and I am changing my major, so we won’t be in the same classes anyways. Not to mention, you can really blow up my phone and I am just not into that. But thank you so much for the help this year.” You can’t help but stare at her wide eyed, blinking repeatedly as you try to process her words. She pats your cheek before turning around and walking down the hall “Have a good summer!”

The only thought running thought your mind is ‘what the fuck.”

You cannot believe this day is finally here, sophomore year of college. After a thoroughly disastrous freshman year, you are determined to completely turn your life around. A new roommate, new classes, if you can be picky, then hopefully a solid friend group will be thrown in there too.

It was still a few days before the actual first day of classes, but you wanted to get into your new dorm and settle in. There were quite a lot of other students with the same idea, all unpacking their parents cars that were stuffed full. You quickly paid the taxi driver and hopped out the back seat. He opened the trunk and lifted your suitcase onto the road.

Dragging your bag up the sidewalk and settling in the line waiting for the booth to find your new dorm room and collect the room key. You look around, wondering if your new roommate is in this same crowd, thinking if her parents are holding back tears as they hug her goodbye.

Thankfully, before you can stumble too far down that path, you reach the front of the line. “Name and year?”

“Oh, uh, Madelyn Andrews. Sophomore.” She flips through the pages and finds your name with ease. Looking down into her organized box of keys, she picks up on set, “Room 616.”

With a soft smile, you accept the key and head towards the sophomore dorms.

Thankfully, there’s an elevator in all the dorm buildings once you’re no longer a freshman. You always joked that it was the university’s way of hazing the entire freshman class.

The slow elevator had you wondering if you could have walked the stairs and ended up there faster, but eventually, opened onto the sixth floor. You held your breath as you walked up to your door.

Pressing your ear against the wooden surface and straining to try and hear any movement. It sounded completely empty inside. With a quick ‘thank you’ to the skies above, you push the key into the lock and turn, opening the door.

Unsurprisingly, it is the same layout as your freshman year dorm, not that you were superstitious, but in the spirit of completely turning your life around you opted for the bed on the right this time.

It didn’t take more than an hour for you to put away your clothes and set up the small mementos of your friends from back home. Walking back over to your suitcase, you pull out a small blanket that barely is long enough to cover your legs and hide it under your pillow.

Laying on your new bed and scrolling your university’s Instagram page, trying to find something to do that can pass the time. That’s when you see there is an early bird trivia event being hosted at the student center in ten minutes.

Taking a second to think, you come to the conclusion that this is the perfect chance to meet new people. Reinvent yourself as someone social, someone beyond only one friend turned girlfriend.

Softly pushing yourself off the elevated bed, you walk over to the shared closet and pull out your favorite white crew neck in case the temperature drops after sunset. With an unbalanced turn, you spin around and pull on your black and gray checkered vans. Hopping over to the mirror to give yourself a fast once over then heading straight out the door.

It’s only a short walk to the student center from your dorm this year, which you’re thankful for, perfect for meeting new people.

Remembering how heavy the student center door is, you pull hard on the handle. The universe must be laughing at you because that seemed to be the wrong choice. The usually heavy door was light this year and you have just thrown the door as wide as it would go, causing a decently loud sound.

A few students near the door look at you, but thankfully the other students further into the building haven’t seemed to notice a thing. Which is where the trivia is being held, so you awkwardly walk through the doors and inside.

“Hello, welcome to early bird trivia: musicals. Are you joining a team or registering a new one?” states a wide eyed brunette woman.

“Oh, I didn’t know we had to have a team..” you begin to look around for anyone you might vaguely recognize. “Not a worry, dear. We have another girl looking for a team too. You two can partner up.” She starts to wave over a blonde, who’s smiling bigger than you would think possible.

She continues, “This is..” she pauses waiting for you. “Madelyn.”

“And she needs a team as well. So, what will the team name be?”

Before you even have a moment to think of something clever, the blonde speaks up, “Mac n Cheese Lovers.” You cannot help but snort at her abruptness. The brunette hands you a paper and pencil to write down your answers on, “Good luck ‘Mac n Cheese Lovers.”

Following the blonde over to a table near the smoothie bar along the left wall, as she sits down she introduces herself, “Hey. My name is Yelena. I hope you like Mac n Cheese or this team name will be super awkward,” she snickers.

You shake your head slightly, “The name is perfectly fitting. I’m a huge fan,” you laugh, “My name is Madelyn. It’s nice to meet you. So what year are you in?”

“Sophomore,” the blonde replies, “How about you?”

“Same, sophomore.” The two of you continue with small talk for a couple minutes until you hear the game host start speaking. He gives a quick introduction of his name and lets everyone know he’s the student activity director, so he plans all university approved events. Which leads him to a quick warning that means no drinking or drugs at these events since he’s required to report them to the Dean. Then, he gets into the trivia rules.

Once he finishes, Yelena leans over to you, “We have to win. Or at least beat my annoying sister and her girlfriend.”

You raise your eyebrow at the woman, “If you knew people, how come you didn’t team up with them?”

She waves off your question before pointing them out, “See those two redheads? That’s them. They are insufferable at any sort of competition. We need to show them up and win, so I hope you’re a musical lover because I am most certainly not a musical theater major,” she chuckles as she finishes her sentence.

“They do look insufferable,” you agree with the blonde, “and lucky for you, while I am not a musical theater major, I am a lover of Broadway, so get ready to kick some ass.”

Yelena claps you on the back and laughs, “I like you, Madelyn. Let's do this.”

“Okay, everyone, first question. What musical movie has the song ‘It's the Hard-Knock Life’?”

You quickly write down ‘Annie’ on the paper next to the number one as he repeats the first question.

“Second question, the musical Hairspray is set in what American city?”

Once again, you write down ‘Baltimore’ immediately next to the number two as he repeats the question.

And the process repeats itself all the way to the end. You, unsurprisingly, knew every answer, besides two. Thankfully Yelena seemed very confident in the answers, which led you to learning that while she was not an overall musical lover, she was obsessed with ‘SIX’, claiming ‘they all should have just murdered that idiotic king’.

By the end, you and Yelena are laughing together and being shushed by other teams around you trying to think. Yelena pays them no mind while she tries to watch and see if her sister and her girlfriend are guessing the answers correctly by the way she’s writing. You tried to tell her that would be impossible to know, but the blonde paid you as little mind as she did the surrounding teams.

Finally, the host announces for everyone to settle down and starts going over the list of correct answers. Yelena is practically levitating off the seat with how excited she is. Your team got every question right. “Okay everyone, count up your total of correct answers.” He waits a few seconds before beginning again, “raise your hand if your team got more than five correct.”

Faster than lightning, Yelena's hand is in the air, yours follows quickly. “Raise your hand if your team got more than ten correct.” Three other teams' hands go down. “Raise your hand if your team got more than fifteen correct.” Another two teams’ hands lower. Leaving your team, two other teams, and Yelena’s sister’s team, much to the blonde’s annoyance.

“Raise your hand if you got more than seventeen correct.” One team puts their hands down. “Raise your hand if you got more than eighteen correct.” The other team drops their hands. Making the final two teams, ‘Mac n Cheese Lovers’ and ‘Traitors’, if you were to believe Yelena.

“Looks like we have a tight race everyone, how exciting, keep your hands up if you got all twenty questions correct.” A moment of tense silence falls over the room, the redheads slowly lower their hands. A loud, piercing scream sounds off beside you, “Yes! Ha! I won! So much for ‘Yelena you don't know anything about musicals. Go find your own team’.” The blonde begins doing her victory dance as you laugh. She grabs your hand and motions for you to victory dance with her. And how could you say no when you are equally excited about the win.

“We have our winners, everyone congratulations to..” the host drags off his sentence.

“Mac n Cheese Lovers!” the two of you say while laughing and dancing together.

“Congratulations to ‘Mac n Cheese Lovers’. Thank you to everyone for coming out and starting off this year with a bang! I will see you at the next activity!” Slowly everyone staggers out of the student center and into the night as you’re exchanging Instagrams with Yelena and saying your goodbyes.

Not even three steps away from the table, you hear someone speaking to Yelena, “Clearly, you didn’t win with your own lack of knowledge. So, what’s her name?” Not wanting to look back and have them know you’re listening, you keep walking as you hear Yelena reply “Madelyn. Why?”

Cursing yourself for not slowing down because now you’re too far away to keep trying to listen, you look over your shoulder right before walking out the doors. Locking eyes with two pairs of green eyes staring back at you.

Spending most of your days walking around campus and figuring out the quickest way to each of your classes, then finding a second route.., and a third route, just in case. Eventually making your way to the cafeteria since it’s the only food place open on campus until classes begin and sitting out in the quad people watching as more and more people arrive. You haven’t met up with the blonde, or the two mysterious redheads, you met at trivia since. However, you are often sending memes back and forth which you take as a small step towards your first new friend of the year.

It’s officially one day until classes start and you still haven’t met your roommate. You have considered walking back to the welcome booth and asking if you even have a roommate since it’s extremely uncommon to not be moved into the dorms by this time.

As much as most people would love to strike luck and get a free single, that is the absolute last thing you want.

The universe finally seems to answer your silent worrying and wishing as you hear someone fumbling with the keys outside your door. Quickly, you hop from the bed and rush to open the door. Coming face to face with a dark haired brunette.

“Oh, good, you’re moved in already!” Taken aback by the woman’s words, your focus shifts between her and the large number of boxes next to her in the hallway.

“Do, uh, do you need help?”

“That’d be great. My name’s Kate. You’re Madelyn, right?”

A wave of shock hits you at hearing someone you’ve never met know your name. Seeing the look on your face causes Kate to laugh. She starts to shimmy inside and you hurriedly move to the side, so she can walk in easier. Once she’s in, you step out of the room and pick up one of the boxes. “It is, yeah. So, where do you want this?”

“You can just throw everything on the bed.”

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to move everything into the small dorm. Laughing as you both try to move around with the now limited floor space since Kate’s bed was quickly filled up with boxes.

After an offer to help the brunette unpack her things, you figure out she is quite uncaring about her clothes, but she is very particular about her bow. You learn she joined the school archery team last year, but already stands to make captain for her second year.

She tells you about how last year, on a dare, she hit the bell tower with an arrow. “So, you were the one who caused the crack in the bell tower?” Covering your mouth to try and hide your laugh. She looks at you with wide eyes, “I can’t confirm or deny which clock tower it was.”

Which only causes you to lose all control and laugh wildly out loud.

Successfully surviving the first four weeks of your second year in college, you get to celebrate at the first football game of the season. Thankfully, Kate is not into the sorority scene like your ex was, so you can go to the game together rather than alone.

With your back against your bed and your feet up the side of the wall, you’re waiting for Kate to get back from her archery practice. She made captain last week which led to you both sneaking out of the dorm at midnight and walking to the nearest pizzeria for a celebratory pizza. Your memory was promptly interrupted by the door slamming into the wall, “Shit. Sorry.”

Laughing at Kate’s mumbled apology to the girls next door who always complain about you two being unnecessarily loud. The brunette throws her sweaty t-shirt at your face which you quickly launch back at her as she softly shuts the door.

“Hurry up and get ready, Bishop. The game starts in thirty minutes and you smell like a wet dog.”

“Your words are so sweet. Dipped in honey I would say,” Kate’s words laced with sarcasm as she playfully flips you off while kicking off her shoes.

“Only in honey? You don’t get the soft rose petals or melted chocolate too?” Your words only earn you a deadpan stare from the archer. With a grunt, you push yourself off the wall and sit upright, “Don’t forget that tonight is a black out game, so you need to be in all black to show support.”

“Oh yes, I would hate not to show support. Unfortunately, all my black clothes are currently dirty-”

“I know, which is why I took the liberty of doing our laundry earlier today. Your outfit is laid out on the bed.” You say with a smile and move to make your fingers into the shape of a heart.

Kate can’t help but roll her eyes and laugh, “Of course, you did.” Walking up to her shower bag and picking it up, she heads to the door. “I will be back in no less than 10 minutes, Sargeant,” winking at you, knowing you hate the nickname, before quickly mumbling out, “and thank you for doing my laundry. You’re the best.” and walking out of the room.

Rushing a quick ‘You’re welcome’ out before the door shut. You begin getting dressed yourself, deciding on a black halter top and some black jean shorts with your black high-top converses. Throwing your hair up into a high ponytail, then pulling out your baby hairs so you don’t look like an egg.

True to her word, Kate walks back in 10 minutes later as you put headphones in and stare at the ceiling, you give your roommate privacy to get ready.

Feeling your headphones ripped out of your ears causes you to face the archer as she smiles, “How do I look? Andrews approved?” Kate stands in front of you in black long sleeve cropped top and blacked ripped jeans.

Jokingly, you raise an eyebrow at her, faking a moment of contemplation before returning the smile, “You look hot. You will definitely grab whoever’s attention you want.”

“I don’t want anyone's attention, '' the brunette scoffs.

“Sure you don’t and I don’t hope that my 7am professor is sick on Monday,” you retort.

“I don’t even think she is gonna be there,” Kate starts pulling on the sleeves of her shirt, “I don’t think football games are her thing.”

You take a moment to consider what to say. It’s been months since you had a crush on anyone and wanted to try and impress a girl. When you first found out your roommate started crushing on someone, you had been relentless in attempting to have her confess who it was. But as stubborn as you were, Kate was also head strong in keeping her secret.

“Her loss then. We can post a picture and she’ll see everything she misses out on by skipping the game,” you wink. Linking arms, you and Kate walk out of the dorm and head to the field.

The first stop you both make is the concession stand since food is the top priority any time the two of you leave the dorm together. Ordering you both an ICEE, yours being coke flavored and Kate’s cherry, and a hot dog each.

Once arriving at your seats, you turn around and ask the girls behind you if they could take a picture for you. You both hold up your ICEEs, smiling as you cheer for the picture.

Kate posts the picture on her Instagram, tagging you, and captions the post ‘I’m only here for the ICEEs’.

Quickly commenting ‘and my amazing company’ under her post. Then posting the picture onto your story with hearts underneath.

It’s not until the third quarter that you both finally relent and head to the bathrooms. While standing in line chatting about nothing and everything, the archer tenses beside you and presses herself between you and the wall, “what are yo-”

Kates proceeds to shush you and shrinks further into her hiding spot. Looking around to try and see what has your roommate acting so strange, you come up short since you don’t recognize anyone.

That is until you glance over to the concession line and notice Yelena, who you met your first day back on campus. Quickly turning around to Kate, “Oh, Kate. Do you remember how I told you I met this hilarious girl my first day back?“ You point over to the blonde, “She’s right there. Her name is Yelena.”

The brunette’s face pales suddenly. Worry rushes through you and your eyes immediately start scanning for what’s upset your friend so badly. Until it clicks, “Kate…Oh, Katie,” you start to whisper, “ is Yelena who you have a crush on?”

Her eyes met yours and you can tell you’re right. “I totally know her. I can introduce you if you want. Granted, I haven’t actually spoken with her for over a month, BUT we regularly exchange memes.”

Before Kate could give any response to you, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around.

“Madelyn, I thought it was you! How have you been?” Yelena says with a big smile on her face.

“I’m great. Settling into my classes and wishing I didn’t sign up for a 7am lecture that I completely don’t understand and will need to find a tutor for, the usual. How about you?”

As the blonde opens her mouth to reply, she notices Kate, “Bishop? Madelyn and Bishop? You two know each other?” .

“Roommates,” You both say at the same time before you continue, “We’re roommates. How do you know Kate?”

“She’s my lab partner,” she leans around you and looks at the brunette, “We have a project coming up and I’ve been meaning to reach out and figure out a time that works for you,” she runs her fingers through her blonde hair nervously.

A sneaky smile goes across your face, realizing that Yelena also seems to have a crush on Kate.

The archer stands up suddenly at her crush’s words, “I have archery practice most days, but I’m free on Tuesdays after 3pm, if that works.”

Yelena simply smiles back, “Tuesdays are great, except, I’m in class until 4. How about you come to my apartment, it’s five minutes from campus, and we can eat and start our research?”

“Off campus?”

“Yeah, my sister and her girlfriend wanted to have a secluded place away from the sorority and invited me to stay there too.”

You nod, listening to the two speak while also trying to give them privacy by looking anywhere else in the slowest moving restroom line.

Suddenly, Yelena’s phone goes off, “Speaking of the devil,” she answers.

You can’t hear whoever it is super well over the crowd cheering at what must have been the best touchdown of the game but once they quiet down you hear that voice again from trivia night, the redheaded sister of Yelena.

The blonde turns over her shoulder to look near the concession line she just came from, “I just want a coke.” You look over in the same direction as Yelena, “No, I don’t want anything else. I will be right back. I was just saying ‘hey’ to Madelyn and Bishop. Get your underwear out of a twist. I’m heading back now. Bye.”

Your heart leaps out of your chest when you finally notice the redhead in line. Making eye contact with her deep green eyes for longer than normal which causes Kate to nudge your shoulder as it’s finally your turn to walk into the restroom.

“Sorry,” you mumble to your roommate before turning back with one final look, receiving a wink from both women.

Kate gives a quick goodbye to Yelena before she walks away and then pushes you through the door.

Your roommate tries to ask you about it in the restroom, but you firmly shut down that topic and turn the conversation around on her. If you had known her crush was on Yelena, then you would have tried long ago to set them up on a blind date. Which is probably why the brunette didn't say who she was spending her days thinking about.

Making your way back to the seats, thankfully, without running into anyone else, you try to wipe the redhead’s face out of your memory, feeling incredibly embarrassed for your behavior when seeing her.

The last quarter of the game passes in a blur that you aren’t even aware the game ended until you notice the football players celebrating on the field and groups of people moving around you to leave at the same time. You glance up to the scoreboard and see the score, 30-28, your team winning.

Pulling out your phone, you swipe to pull up Instagram and post the scoreboard to your story, ‘our blood, our sweat, your tears’.

Linking your arm with Kate to make sure neither of you get lost on the way out of the stadium, the cool fall breeze whips at your shoulders the second you make it outside, but you welcome it after squeezing against every sweaty jock trying to get out of the stadium at the same time.

The two of you quietly laugh together when you look back to see people squeezing through the doors you just came through.

Neither of you are paying attention and accidentally bump into someone, to your dismay it was Yelena’s sister. Your body goes rigid at the sight of her. A scowl on her face until she settles her eyes on you then she gives you a soft smile.

“So, so, so sorry about that. We should have paid more attention.” The redhead’s smile slowly grows bigger as you continue talking. “Sorry again.”

You go to turn away and drag Kate along when you feel a warm hand softly wrap around your bicep, “No, I should be ashamed for not giving you more attention when you’re around,” smirking slightly at you.

A small blush rushes to your cheeks, opening and closing your mouth a few times before giving a gentle nod to the woman before turning around again.

Once you are out of hearing range from the redhead, Kate starts laughing, “Oh, you’re like a fly trapped in the spider's web.”

With a quick glare to your roommate and a prompt slap to the arm, “Shut up.”

As you lay on your bed, winding down your night time routine, you decide to scroll Instagram. Liking posts from your roommate and best friend, Kate’s, account. You didn’t think you would get as close to the girl as you had, but the two of you got along surprisingly well. Usually, you would be watching a new episode of Grey's Anatomy together tonight, however, Kate finally gathered her nerves and asked out Yelena, her lab partner, on a date.

Squealing and bouncing in your tiny dorm room bed, ��Shut up! You did it? You finally admitted you have a crush on her?”

“I wouldn’t go that far!” The brunette laughs in response, “I just asked if she would want to go out to the new ax-throwing bar that just opened up.” She throws herself down on her back onto your bed, frowning and sounding much more somber. “But, Madelyn, Yelena asked if we could go this Thursday. She has to go to the sorority party this Friday.”

Moving around until you're laying down shoulder to shoulder with her, “Psh. Don’t even start, you are going and maybe even getting a second date for Friday.” Wiggling your eyebrows at her and shoving your body slightly into her.

“If that happens, then you’re coming with me. You need to get out and finally move on from your ex.” Placing your hand over your heart, you playfully scoff and wave off a mumbled agreement, trying to steer away from another possible conversation to find out who your ex is.

Smiling as you recall the memory, you suddenly hear the door to your dorm unlock.

Kate whispers to someone in the hall, who you assume to be Yelena, “Of course, I’d love to. See you tomorrow.”

Quickly, she walks in and immediately places her back on the door to close it. A wide grin on your roommate's face as she looks over to your bed. First kicking off her shoes, then running to jump into your bed. You stare at her, waiting for her to begin.

Kate sighs before exclaiming, “SHE ASKED ME OUT TO THE SORORITY PARTY TOMORROW!” Wrapping your arms around your friend as you jump together over the great news.”Get ready, Madelyn, you and I are going to a party!”

“Wait, Kate,” You pull back to look at her wide eyed, “I thought you were kidding.”

The party started at least an hour ago, but because of your indecisiveness on what to wear, which ended up just being a simple v cut blue dress with white high tops. As you both walk up, you stare at the brick house bursting with music. You hear Kate talking, “Party Rules 101. Don’t forget not to go upstairs with anyone. Do not accept a drink from anyone who is not me. I know you will want to leave early, so do not go without telling or texting that you’re heading out either. Okay?”

You blink a few times before you recognize she wants a reply, “Got it.” She smiles at you and takes your hands before walking up the porch steps.

Kate knocks on the white door. You wonder how anyone would be able to hear the knock inside with how loud the music is playing, but not even five seconds later the door is open. The sound of the music makes you take a step back. Anxiety washing over you instantly as you look down. You don’t even hear the words spoken between your friend and the redhead opening the door.

Kate’s hold on your hand tightens in hopes to reassure you before she pulls you along to step inside. It isn’t until Kate’s other hand waves to get your attention off the floor that you look up and realize both girls are staring at you expectedly. “I’m sorry, what?” you say softly.

The redhead chuckles and repeats herself, “Hi, I’m Wanda and the Vice President here. We have two bathrooms downstairs, one by the kitchen and one by the laundry room. Also, two upstairs just in case. Drinks, of course, are in the kitchen or the backyard. Is there anyone you are looking for that I can direct you towards? Or anything I can get you to drink?”

“I’m looking for Yelena actually. Do you know where she is?” Kate quickly replies. “She’s in the living room playing beer pong,” Wanda points over to her left, “Go right through there and you will find her.”

With lightning speed, Kate drops your hand and rushes off to find the blonde. Your mouth hangs open as you stare off in the direction she flew.

The redhead laughs as she looks at you before offering her arm, “Can I escort you anywhere?” Glancing around the foyer, you can't recognize anyone, so you nervously agree and link your arm with hers, “I don’t think I know anyone else here, so anywhere you want to go is fine with me.”

A bright smile spreads on the Vice President's face as she guides you out of the foyer and into the backyard to watch someone attempt a keg stand. You can’t help but look stunned as you watch the girl drink. “Would you like to try?” Wanda startles you with the question. Shaking your head no with absolute certainty that you could never have arm strength or lung capacity.

After a few moments more of watching, she slowly guides you over to the pool. The redhead kicks off her shoes and motions for you to do the same. The two of you sit down along the edge and place your feet in the water. You start to mindlessly kick your feet along to the music that is playing throughout the speakers. “So, am I allowed to ask your name?”

Multiple memories come to mind with times the Vice President has heard your name, “I’m pretty sure you know my name.”

Wanda’s tongue drags underneath the bottom of her teeth, “Oh, I do, but I want to hear it from your pretty, little mouth.”

Your breath catches in your throat at her words, taking a moment to settle your racing heart, you slowly speak, “Madelyn.”

Deciding to try and control the conversation you cut her off before she could say anything else. “Do you usually take interest in random people that show up to your sorority’s parties?”

She chuckles at your question, “No, not usually. But I would not say you’re a random person. Plus I have never had the pleasure of someone as captivating as you walk through those doors.”

“Yeah, right.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the redhead.

She grabs your chin and makes you look up at her, “Oh I didn’t take you for the bratty type.” You could have sworn that her eyes sparkled when she said that.

You shutter, trying to think of a reply. Your brain is completely lagging at the touch and sound of her voice. Wanda’s thumb moves and pushes between your lips, “Is there anything even going through that little head of yours?”

A small groan rips it way out your throat and your eyelids droop slightly. The redhead pushes down slightly onto your tongue.

Mumbling around her thumb, “Yes.”

The Vice President’s smirks at your reply, “Yes,” She mocks you, “Yes, to what?”

You shift your eyes back to her as you take in the specific color of her eyes, a sparkling green, this time a soft moan comes out of your lips, “Please..”

You think Wanda must take pity on you because suddenly she drops her hand from your mouth. Everything about her seems to return back to when you first walked in the house. She’s back to being sweet and polite, it makes your head spin. “What brings you to the party tonight, Madelyn? Well besides escorting Bishop, of course.”

This was a question you didn’t know how to answer. Why were you here in the backyard of your ex’s sorority spending time with her Vice President? Glancing around the backyard, noticing that you still don't know anyone here, you sigh, “Honestly, I’m not sure. Kate said I needed to come if she got a second date because, apparently, I need to move on.”

“And do you want to?” She looks at you expectantly, “Move on, that is.”

“I don’t even know what I would have to move on from. It’s been months since we broke up. And she didn’t care about me long before that anyways.” You let out a dry laugh, “I don’t even think she liked me. She just liked sex with me.”

The look on the redhead’s face makes you stop your ranting, “Sorry, that is not proper party conversation,” you force out a laugh, “way too depressing.”

She smiles, dragging her eyes down your torso and onto your legs then pulling them back up before landing her eyes back on your face. “How would you like to find something to drink?”

Thankful for her change in conversation, you smile slightly, “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The two of you make your way through the house and into the kitchen, “What will it be? Beer? Vodka?” walking around the kitchen as you listen to her talk. “... Or maybe a juice box?”

Whipping your head around, you glare at the Vice President, scoffing, “I’m not a child. I can drink alcohol.”

Right after you speak, you hear someone laughing from the archway. “Oh, Wands, what a delightful surprise,” she steps further into the small kitchen, “Tell me you were able to get us this cute little thing to play.”

This makes you snap your head quickly around again. A rush of arousal runs through you when your eyes lock onto the redhead, “And who the hell are you?”

The cheshire smile on her face makes it clear she remembers you, she moves towards you before gently lifting up your hand as she bows her head to place a soft kiss on it, “To you, Madam President.”

“What the fuck.” You snatch your hand away and look towards the sparkling green eyed woman before returning your gaze in front of you.

“Oh, what a dirty mouth, I will have to clean that out.” The redhead smirks at you. Another wave of arousal hits you, gulping as you maintain eye contact, “Like you’d get the chance.”

Wanda speaks up, breaking the growing tension in the room, “Darling, wouldn’t she just be…” walking up and placing a finger under your chin, her voice dropping, “...divine?”

You shutter at her words. Eyes bouncing between the two redheads suddenly much closer to you than before. Realizing they have successfully surrounded you, your arousal spiking but you choose to mask with slight panic. “So what is this then? Two spiders trapping someone in their web and then going in for the kill?” Puffing out your chest slightly, trying to gain back some more control. “You think the President and Vice President would require consent.”

Wanda chuckles in your ear behind you, “Oh dear, we do.” Bringing her finger up to brush some hair behind your ear before speaking softly, “We only accept enthusiastic consent. Absolute begging.”

Your knees wobble slightly at her words. “A little archer told us that you needed to move on, and typically we wouldn’t do rebound sex, but you…” The President takes a sharp inhale through her teeth, “You are too special to pass up.”

“So what do you say, baby, want to be ours for the night?” Wanda whispers.

A million thoughts race through your mind. Most importantly, the fact you’ve never had a threesome or sex with people you don’t really know. You look around the kitchen and notice how nobody else even acknowledges the two redheads circling you like prey.

“I say,” You gulp, mustering all the fake confidence you can find. “I say show me a good time first and we will see.”

The two women share a sinister smile before they each drape an arm around you and walk you out of the kitchen and into a room that only stores a pool table and some chairs.

“We have the next game.” The President says to the small group finishing up their game before walking you over to the side of the room. She lowers her hands to your hips and lifts you with ease onto the barstool behind you.

Shock fills your face at her actions before you glare at her, “Excuse you. I am perfectly capable of sitting in a seat by myself.”

The redhead simply smiles at you before moving to stand next to the side of your chair, absentmindedly running fingers through your hair.

“Hello? Earth to you. Usually, when someone speaks to you it's polite to respond.” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. She gently turns your head to look at her. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. I’m sorry, baby. I won’t do it again.”

“Madelyn, I have a name and it’s not baby.” You scoff, “What is your name anyways?”

She winks at you before smirking, “I told you. To you, it’s Madam President.”

“That’s not a name. That’s a title. What’s your name?” Your eyes met the redhead locked in a standstill. You already know you won’t last long. Her eyes trap you in endless pools of deep green. They are powerful and unmoving, you huff, “What’s your name, Madam President?”

The President lifts her hand and holds your lower lip before pulling it down and out slightly, causing you to look through your lashes to maintain eye contact, the action making you feel as if you’re losing the last shreds of your control. The redhead presses down the slightest bit more before pinching your lip and releasing it, “Natasha.”

Wanda, who has been repeatedly running her fingers from your shoulder to the knee, leans over you slightly if only to be in your personal space, “Natty, it’s our turn now.”

You go to hop down, but yet again your hips are grabbed and you’re picked up and put down by Natasha’s hands. You give her a glare even as a blush starts covering your cheeks.

“Tsk, tsk. Don’t be like that. I would hate to have to spank that gorgeous ass for the first time surrounded by all these people.” Your blush deepens with your embarrassment at the volume the redhead spoke. The heat pooling between your legs only causes you more confusion.

The three of you walk towards the table. Natasha moves to rack the balls and Wanda takes you over to pick out a cue stick, grabbing one for Natasha as well.

It’s decided that you will be on your own team, which you tried to protest by saying you have never played a game of pool in your life, but your complaints fall on deaf ears.

Wanda starts off by breaking the balls, officially starting your unfair game. She gets a solid into a pocket, “That makes you stripes, baby.” She says in a sickeningly sweet voice before getting two more solid balls into pockets.

Standing there with your mouth open, you begin to complain, “This is so unfair. There is no way I will be able to even get close to hitting even one of these balls in!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll help you in the first round,” Wanda says, holding up her hands. She walks over to you and shows you how to bend down and how to aim your cue stick. You lean down like she showed you but still, you feel her hand press down between your shoulders as she speaks in your ear, “Like this, darling. Eyes level with your target.”

Acutely aware this position has almost completely folded in half on the pool table, you pull back the stick and then push it forward with a decent amount of force.

And you completely miss.

To make matters worse, you got one of their balls closer to the pocket instead. Groaning, you stand up and look unamused at the two redheads who are both trying to hold back their smiles at your reaction, “This game is stupid.”

Natasha comes up to the table, leans down, noticeably higher than the position Wanda moved you into. She breathes in and out, then hits the cue ball, causing it to sink a solid ball into the nearby pocket. She glances up at you, smirking, while still leaning down. Causing a completely automatic eye roll. The redhead arches her eyebrow at you before moving to a new spot. She leans down, breathes in and out, and.. misses. “HA!” You cheer as your stripe ball goes into the pocket instead of the solid ball that was next it.

You walk up to the table for your turn and glance to Wanda for her help again. Natasha subtly shakes her head, which you don’t notice since she was behind you. Wanda simply gives you a nod of her head, encouraging you to try by yourself. So you lean down and focus on which ball you’re aiming for and what pocket is your goal.

Breathing in and out a few times before pulling back your cue stick on your inhale and pushing it forward on your exhale. As the stick connects with the cue ball you feel a stinging on your ass. You immediately stand up and spin around with a glare, “Hey! That’s not fair.”

The President laughs as she looks over your head, “Well, it seemed like good luck because you got the ball in.”

Spinning around again to see if she was lying but there, clear as day, you see your stripe ball missing from the table and sitting in the pocket. “Don’t think for a second that I won't punish whiny, bratty behavior though, baby.” Natasha whispers in your ear, her front flush against your back, “Now, say thank you.”

You shiver at her words. The logical part of your brain can’t stop wondering why you should thank her for spanking you, but when you feel her hands on your hips as she pulls them closer to her own, that part of your mind goes blank. The heat between your legs grows even hotter and you let out a soft sigh before fingers hook under your chin and guide you to look up at Natasha, “Say thank you.” She softly growls.

“Thank you.” It comes out more as a pant than actual words but the redhead is pleased enough.

The rest of the game crawls by slowly as each redhead tries to work you up with innocent touches and whispered words. Your head becomes fuzzy in the best way, but even in this state you are completely aware that every other stripe ball that’s gone in is because of Wanda and Natasha simply trying to keep the game going.

With all solid and striped balls now off the table it’s down to whoever can sink the 8 ball in the game.

Wanda glances at you before smirking, “What if we make a little bet out of this?”

You can’t help but let out a dry laugh, “Are you joking? This whole thing is already a game of if you two can get me into bed.” Natasha licks her lips at your words, causing your cheeks to blush even more than they were.

The Vice President ignores your reply, “Great! So I was thinking, if we sink the 8 ball, then you give us a strip show,” you arch your eyebrow at the redhead, “and if you sink the 8 ball, then you give us a strip show.” She winks at you.

“That’s absolutely-” You're cut off by Natasha speaking, “Deal.”

“Deal?” You shriek as the two redheads shake each other's hand, “You two cannot agree on this without me also agreeing.”

They both come up to you and place a hand on your cheek, “And do, baby?” Wanda mumbles into your ear. Right after Natasha says, smirking, “Wanna make a deal?”

Your skin flushes at their voices, your mind hanging onto their every word. You slowly close your eyes and your head falls back slightly. Wanda lowers her head to breathe along your neck, occasionally brushing her tongue against it while Natasha’s fingers tangle around your hair, pulling it back.

A soft moan hits your ears, shocking you when you realize it came from you. Suddenly coming back to yourself, you lightly push off the women, clearing your throat to try and fake your control over yourself once again. “If I sink the 8 ball,” you take a deep breath, “then I decide the next time you touch me.”

Both redheads simply nod their heads in agreement before extending their arms to allow you space for your shot. Looking over the table and considering all the choices you quickly realize that you absolutely have no shot at winning. Ignoring every other reason besides the obvious one, you didn’t want to win.

But you wouldn’t make it apparent to the President and Vice President.

So you lean down, “Corner pocket.” You spend a considerable amount of time figuring out your angle and practicing the strength of your hit. With one more inhale, you pull back the cue stick then exhale and strike the cue ball.

You hit the 8 ball but it stops just short of falling into the pocket. You give a shy smile to the women before stepping back.

There’s a silent conversation going on between the redheads before Wanda nods and steps up to the table. “Corner pocket.” She winks at you before aiming at the cue ball and without any delay she strikes. The 8 ball disappearing into the corner pocket.

Without even a second to think, your feet are suddenly lifted into the air and over Natasha’s shoulder. Wanda comes up to grab the cue stick from you and places it on the pool table.

Once you realize the redhead plans to walk out of the parlor room with you over her shoulder, you begin to protest, “Wait. Wait. I can walk. You don’t have to think I’ll back out of the bet.”

You feel a soft hand brush the back of your thigh as the sparkling green eyed woman steps into your view.

“Oh, baby, we know, but Natty here is a very proud winner and wants to show you off,” her thin fingers smoothing down your hair. You stare at her dumbfounded as she swipes her thumb across your lower lip, “If you’re a good girl then we’ll give you an extra special reward. Can you do that for us?”

The Vice President allows you your time to process as you blink a few times before nodding your head.

A swift smack to your ass has you gasping as Natasha corrects your action, “Words baby.”

“Yes.” Another softer smack to your ass. “Yes, I can be a good girl.”

Both redheads make a pleased humming sound before walking out of the room. You try to avoid eye contact with all the partygoers. The blush across your face and chest only grows at your slight embarrassment.

It isn’t long until you're walking up to the stairs. Suddenly stopping right at the bottom, trying to turn your body at the sound of Kate’s voice. Mortification slams into you when she leans around the redhead holding you to look at your face.

Her tone relentlessly teasing, “Now, I thought I told you not to go upstairs with anyone,” the memory of her words at your arrival pulled to the front of your mind.

Rolling your eyes at your roommate only caused her to laugh further at your predicament.

Yelena speaking prompts the brunette to move back into the circle of conversation with her and the redheads, “Don’t kill the poor girl. It would severely ruin my chances with Bishop.”

Natasha laughs at her sister’s comment, “Please, the only thing she’ll get is mind altering pleasure,” pinching your ass when finishing the sentence. “Now, I’d love to chat, but I have a bet to cash in on.”

Wanda leading the way up the stairs, pausing as Kate speaks, looking up at your roommate, “She has a study group tomorrow morning at 10am! She can’t miss it!”

The redheads laugh, continuing up the stairs, the President turns slightly as she walks and salutes to the brunette, “Aye, aye, Captain.”

Less than fifteen steps later, you’re carried into a large room. Your heart stopping completely at the sound of the door closing and locking. As if noticing the slight pure panic, Wanda stands by the door twisting the handle, “It locks from inside, so if you twist the handle, then it’s automatically unlocked,” then she relocks the door.

Nodding your head in thanks and understanding of her words, she gives you a reassuring smile in return.

Then, Natasha lightly throws you onto the bed, a grunt leaving your lips, leaning over you, she smirks. Wanda comes up to sit beside your head and gently rubs your forehead with her thumbs.

The deep green eyed woman locks her eyes with yours before placing a soft kiss on your chest, then throwing herself to the empty side of you.

“Now, don’t keep us waiting,” you turn your head to see sparkling green eyes looking at you.

They wait a few seconds before both women have another silent conversation. Suddenly, you startle the redheads by standing up.

Standing with your hands on your hips, stilling your voice and shifting on your feet, “Well, this will be rather awkward to do in silence.”

The President smirks at you before pulling out her phone and playing ‘Supermassive Black Hole by Muse!’ from her speaker.

Slowly you begin to sway your hips and drag your fingers across your chest. Kicking your shoes off as sexually as you can. You let the song play for about twenty seconds before you lean down and run your nails up your legs stopping where your thighs meet your center.

Turning around, you hook one finger under your right strap and pull it down, staring directly into sparkling green eyes. Then, turning your head to face the other direction and repeat the action, but slower, as you look into the deep green eyes.

Your dress only stays up from pushing out your chest. You continue to dance around until you slowly sit down onto your knees. Rolling onto the ground, your head closer to the women, arching your back as you begin to spread apart your knees. Never looking away from the redheads as your knees hit the floor. Watching as both women tighten their grips on the bed sheets.

Straightening your legs and bringing them back together, slowly using all your core strength to sit up rather than using your hands. You turn around and crawl over to the bed, standing before placing one foot on the President’s thigh.

She brings her hand up to gently hold onto your calf before digging her nails in. Biting your lip at the minimal pain before moving your hands across your chest, breathlessly Natasha speaks, “God, don’t be that much of a tease. Let Daddy see.”

Grabbing her hands, you bring them up to your chest, she squeezes before pulling down your dress exposing your breasts, strangely thanking yourself for foregoing a bra tonight.

The cool air in the room feeling amazing on your burning skin.

Lowering your foot, you walk over to the Vice President and bend how she showed you earlier during your game of pool. A loud hum of approval leaving her mouth.

Keeping your position, you gather the material at the hem of your dress and pull it over your head. Leaving Wanda staring directly at your covered center. Her finger gently travels up the inside of your thighs, never reaching the apex.

Noticing the dark patch on your light gray underwear, she speaks mockingly, “Do you want Mommy and Daddy to take care of that for you?”

A small moan slips out as you feel two different fingers suddenly press against the dark spot.

“Words, baby,” both women huskily say at the same time.

“Please, please,” you’re all but moaning.

A smack on your ass that you can tell was from Wanda by the feeling of rings soothing the sting, “Be specific, baby.”

You breathe in and out a few times before roughly swallowing, “Please, take care of me.”

The redheads, losing their lack of control, slowly decide that your answer was good enough for now, for the first time.

Natasha walks around to face you, her hands find your shoulders and makes you stand up. Wanda moves further back on the bed, removing her shirt and bra before leaning against the pillows.

Grabbing onto the President’s face, you stand on your tip toes and connect your lips to hers. She eagerly begins kissing you back, nipping at your lip. Moving her hands to your ass, smacking your ass lightly, so you’ll jump into her arms.

Continuing to kiss you as she walks to the side of the bed and places you down. Ending your kiss, a low whine comes from you. Sealing your lips quickly but both women have already heard you and have lust flashing through their eyes.

“Now, go ahead and make Mommy feel good while Daddy makes you feel good.” Nodding your head at the redhead’s directions, you turn around and crawl up the bed and between Wanda’s spread legs. She holds up her hands and guides your lips to her nipple.

Natasha begins to massage your ass and tease your slit over your underwear, soaking them further by the second.

Sucking and pulling on the Vice President’s left nipple, bringing your right hand up to roll her right nipple between your fingers. You continue this while feeling the unending teasing around your clit.

Popping off Wanda’s left nipple, you drag your tongue across her chest until you can wrap your lips around the right nipple, twirling your tongue around the nub.

On the first suck, you feel a rush of cool air hit your center as your underwear is pulled down your legs, moaning loudly at the sensation. Without even a second to spare you feel the redhead’s tongue lick up the wetness on your lips before softly pushing her tongue inside your entrance.

Your jaw slacks at the feeling, your head falls away from the needy nipples in front of you. The redhead pulls you back against her nipple, “That’s a good girl. You’re giving Mommy so much pleasure,” holding you close to feel every sound come from your lips, moans of her own filling the room.

Natasha licks her way up to your clit. Giving soft licks before wrapping her lips around your clit, humming, then pulling softly on the bundle of nerves.

Your knees start shaking at the pleasure, causing you to fall further onto Wanda.

“Oh, fuck,” you mumble around the nipple.

Bringing her fingers up to your clit, rubbing circles, “Come on, baby. You're such a good girl for us.”

Her fingers slowly push into you, curling slightly against your velvet walls. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet. Let Daddy make you cum, alright?”

A truly unholy sound fell from your lips, clenching around Natasha’s fingers, Wanda lifts your head slightly, so you could reply, “Please, make me cum.”

Lowering her mouth back to your clit as she sucks, licks, and nips all over while her fingers continue a relentless pace. Wanda brings her own finger to your nipples and begins rolling them between her fingers. “God, everything about you, baby. Everything is perfect,” pulling at the nubs blurring the line between pain and pleasure.

“Fuck,” your voice cracking at exclamation. Shaking from the stimulation, the coil in your stomach tightens more with each second.

Wanda leans her head forward next to your ear, “Come for Mommy, baby. Come all over Daddy.”

A simultaneous pinch from the Vice President's fingers on your nipples and the President's pinch on your clit has a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a scream rips from your throat as you cum all over Natasha’s face and fingers and fall on top of Wanda.

Dragging out your orgasm not stopping until she's pulled every sound from your lips does she begin to lick up all traces of your orgasm, sitting up and moving towards the other. You look up just in time to see them share a deep kiss, each moaning at the taste of you on their tongues.

Breaking apart, deep green eyes look at you, “Do you have another one in you, baby? You came hard enough to drown me,” lust shining in her eyes.

“I’ll do whatever you want, just make me cum that hard again,” your eyes pleading.

Smirking at you, Wanda moves you to scoot down the bed, tapping your thighs. It takes a second for you to realize where she wants you, but you quickly move to hover above her face. Natasha settles between her girlfriends thighs, removing her skirt and underwear in one pull, “Now, this will be a sight to see,” lowering her mouth immediately, sucking the redhead’s clit into her mouth the way she likes.

Biting your lip at the sight, you sit down, your eyes connecting with the deep green ones between the redhead’s thighs. Allowing the Vice President to move you where she’s most comfortable. Feeling her tongue push into your entrance has you arching your back.

Natasha’s fingers move to Wanda’s clit, rubbing at a brutal pace. Below you the redhead sucks in a sharp breath. Moving to drag her teeth along your clit.

Your hips arch at the feeling, soft grunts passing from your lips, “Shit.”

Pulling you back against the redhead’s mouth, “Tsk, tsk, where do you think you’re going, baby girl?”

Rutting your hips against the face below you. Moans and pleas mumbling out of your mouth at the suction of your clit. Natasha sits up, keeping her fingers on Wanda’s clit, and leans towards you. Digging your nails into her shoulders, as she begins to leave soft bites along your chest before kissing up your neck.

Inhaling sharply as her teeth sink into your pulse point, sucking harshly on the delicate skin, “Such a dirty mouth.”

The pleasure on your clit increases, building up your orgasm quickly. Moaning as you drag your nails down the redhead’s back.

Wanda becomes sloppy underneath you, hinting at her own release coming soon. “Mommy’s getting close. Come with Mommy, baby,” Natasha mumbles against your neck, pushing you right to the edge.

Sucking your earlobe into her mouth and biting down on your soft skin, “Seeing how you ride Mommy’s face makes me wonder how well you would ride Daddy’s dick,” her words sending both you and the woman beneath you over the edge.

The Vice President slowly licks your cunt to clean you as the President drags her finger through her girlfriend’s release. Bringing them up to your mouth, “Be a good girl,” and pushing them between your lips.

A sinful moan escapes both of your lips, though for different reasons. Exhaustion riding through your body allows Natasha to gently lift you off Wanda’s face and leans you against the pillows.

Your eyelids fight too close to receive a moment of rest, quickly winning over your desire to stay conscious. Both women get off the bed walking into the en-suite and cleaning themselves up quickly, returning with a towel for you.

Noticing your sleeping form, the two exchange a look before Wanda’s soft hands spread your knees and gently clean you up.

“She’s perfect for us,” the President whispers.

“She is, but how can we convince her of that,” the Vice President whispers back.

As a plan forms in her mind, the redhead smirks, “We will just have to show her.”

Wanda throws the towel aiming for the laundry hamper, but misses, before laying down into the bed next to you. Natasha follows suit, listening to the music thrum downstairs while closing her eyes.

Groaning and swatting at the air when you hear the familiar sounds of a phone alarm going off.

Your messy morning hair is removed from your face, startling you into opening your eyes. Confusion flashing through you until you see two pairs so similar yet different green eyes.

“Wha-,” you begin, but are cut off.

“I would have let you sleep in more, baby, but we need to get you dressed for your study group. The last thing I need is my little sister trying to murder me for ruining her chances with the archer.”

Blinking a few times, begging for your brain to catch up, yet all your mind can think of is, “Her name is Kate.”

The redheads smile at you, “Yes, of course, we apologize,” Wanda says sincerely.

With a pat on your thigh, Natasha sits up, “Now, I don't think you want to go to your study group in that little blue dress you were wearing last night, so you can borrow something of ours.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can just run to my dorm. I need to brush my teeth anyway, so it’s okay.” However the looks you receive fills your mind with doubt, “What time is it?”

“9:45am,” Wanda grimaces. Your jaw falls open at the realization that you will definitely not make it in time unless you go straight there. Cursing yourself for not understanding your math course better and needing to go to the study groups in the first place, with a deep breath you look up at the women, “Show me the outfit.”

Standing in the mirror you can’t complain. It was a simple pair of medium washed jeans, though slightly too long since you are shorter than both women, they have been cuffed and paired with a loose long sleeve shirt sporting their sorority name and logo. You felt a bit like a walking advertisement. The worst part, yet best part, was the sports bra Natasha gave you to wear.

Cringing as you put on your soiled underwear from the night before, you throw on your shoes and tie your hair into your best messy, not messy, bun. Hurrying down the stairs towards the front door. To your surprise, the redheads follow behind you. Thinking they must be the type to walk out guests, you say nothing.

Reaching for the door handle, you're cut off by Wanda’s ring-covered hand opening the door for you, extending her arm in an ‘after you, ladies first’ motion.

Arching an eyebrow at the action before turning to face them, “Thank you for the clothes. I’ll return them washed by the end of next week, swear,” beginning to turn back around before stopping and facing them again, whispering, “and thank you for last night too,” then rushing down the steps of the porch.

Stepping out of the doorway both women laugh before replying, “Now, that you don’t need to thank us for.” Trying to hide your blush from the redheads as you speed walk down the sorority's front lawn, checking your phone for the time, seven minutes to get there, thinking ‘I can do it’ as you break out into a run across campus.

#shay writes #wandanat x reader #wandanat x reader smut #wandanat #wandanat smut #wandanat fic #sorority au #college au

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benispunk · 1 month

Text

Good Company

logan howlett x reader

hello!!! guess who's back with a new story...I'm actually a bit nervous about it because I haven't (fully) written a reader insert fic in so long and I don't even know if it's a good depiction of the characters😭 anyway keep in mind that it was hard to write that, English is not my first language, and that I also want to write more, but I'm kind of shy around here. Okay enough about me. Enjoy!!

Wade worries that he’s seriously messed up with Logan, thinking he’s done something so bad that Logan might actually want to destroy him. Unsure of what went wrong, he turns to Y/n, Logan’s girlfriend, for advice.

TW: language, and Wade Wilson I guess.

Y/n was enjoying a quiet evening at her apartment, curled up on her couch with a book, when she heard loud knocks on the door. It was so insistent that she couldn’t help but roll her eyes, already suspecting who it was.

She opened the door to find Wade standing there, with a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.

« Wade? » She raised an eyebrow. « What are you doing here? »

The man in question grinned brightly, shoving the pizza box toward her face as if it were an offering from a royal subject. « Surprise! I come in peace with gifts, for you, your majesty. I know, I know, you’re probably thinking ‘why is my most handsome friend standing at my door on this particular Friday evening, when I could be enjoying some alone time’- but here’s the thing, I was in the neighborhood, and I needed an excuse to come and see you, sunshine. »

Y/n’s skepticism deepened, her eyebrow arching even higher. « You were in the neighborhood? »

He shrugged, unbothered by the disbelief in her voice. « Fine, I was bored and I needed to see you and get away from the apartment. »

She frowned slightly, trying to figure out if there was more to this visit than he was letting on. « Alright, Wade. Come on in. »

Wade didn’t need a second invitation. He strolled into the apartment, setting the pizza and beer on the coffee table before flopping down on the couch with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before. Y/n followed, sitting beside him, her curiosity piqued.

« Okay, spill it. What’s going on? » Y/n asked, tilting her head as she studied him.

Wade cracked open a beer, took a long sip, and then let out a dramatic sigh. « First, I did really miss you and I’m so happy to see you »

Y/n softened at that, a small smile playing on her lips. « I’m happy to see you too, Wade. But what is it? »

« Second… » Wade’s usual bravado faltered slightly as he searched for the right words. « You know how Logan’s got that permanent scowl like he’s auditioning for ‘Grumpiest Man Alive’? Lately, though, it feels like he’s been directing all that grumpiness at me. I’m used to him being grumpy—kind of comes with the territory—but now it’s like he’s gone from ‘mildly annoyed’ to ‘seriously, get out of my sight.’ »

He paused, looking down at the beer in his hand, his fingers fidgeting with the label. « And I know I’m an asshole and I annoy him every single minute of his life- like a sugar rush and a headache all rolled into one- but he’s been kind of on the verge of trashing down the place all because of one stupid joke. So I’ve been trying, or at least I think so, to be less…the annoying bitch that I am, but I feel like he’s getting worse with me? I’m trying to laugh it off, but honestly, it’s kind of eating at me, Y/n. You’re pretty much the Logan-whisperer—got any insights? »

Y/n’s expression softened at Wade’s revelation. She reached over and squeezed his arm gently. « Logan’s got a lot on his mind and, as you may know, he doesn’t know how to deal with that. And I think that, because he doesn't know how to express all of those things, and the fact that it takes a lot for him to open up, he might be pushing you away. He did the same thing with me at the beginning of our relationship. It was fuckin’ hard to deal with but I couldn’t let him do that. »

« Yeah, but your his girl. It's different. What if he decides he’s done with me? I mean, who else is gonna put up with my charming personality and endless movie references? » Wade’s attempt at humor fell flat, his unease still evident.

She chuckled softly, shaking her head.

« Sorry, I just- It’s just that I- ugh. Do I need to pay you at the end of this therapy session, counselor? »

« Go on, Wade. » Y/n urged, her tone gentle but firm.

He sighed, leaning back against the couch. « He’s my buddy. I don’t want to lose him. And I especially don’t want to be the reason he’s leaving me. I would rather have you telling him to stop being friends with me. If he even considers me as a friend…»

Y/n cut him off, her voice firm. « Of course, he does! You’re his friend, Wade. Probably one of the best at that. Never doubt that, trust me. And I’m sorry he has you feeling that way. Those walls he put up around himself, it’s not for his own safety, he truly believes that he’s a danger for others. Whatever he does to you, it’s because he cares too much about you to be a burden in your life. He’s a fucking idiot for that, yes. It hurts even more to know that, yes. And I’m certainly not trying to defend him, but you should know that I had to work hard to break those damn walls. »

Wade stared at her, a mixture of hope and disbelief in his eyes. « You know, for someone who spends so much time with a guy who barely talks, you’re pretty good at this whole talking thing. »

She smiled, her heart warming at the sight of Wade starting to relax. « Takes a lot of practice. »

As they settled into their usual banter, Wade felt a little lighter, knowing that Y/n understood his concerns and had reassured him. Logan might be tough to figure out, but with Y/n in the picture, Wade felt like maybe things would be okay.

He grinned, the familiar mischief returning to his eyes. « I’ll fight for our man »

Y/n laughed, shaking her head in amusement. « You’re ridiculous. »

Wade took another sip of his beer, his grin widening. « Yeah, but you love me for it. »

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at her lips. « Yeah, I guess I do. »

___

Logan found himself standing outside Y/n’s apartment door, hesitating. He could hear muffled sounds of laughter from inside, recognizing Wade’s loud one. With a heavy sigh, he pushed the door open.

Inside, Y/n and Wade were on the couch, a pizza box and empty beer bottles cluttered on the coffee table. Wade was in the middle of an animated story, and Y/n was smiling at him. The sight made his chest tighten. He’d been so wrapped up in his own head lately that he hadn’t even noticed how much he was distancing himself from all of this.

Wade spotted him first, grinning from ear to ear. « Hey, Logan. Decided to join the party after all? »

Logan grunted, closing the door a little harsher than he intended, making Y/n jumped at the sound. « Didn’t expect to find you here. »

Y/n smile faded slightly, sensing the tension in the room. She moved on the couch, making space for Logan beside her. « We were just hanging out, figured you might want to join us » she said.

Logan hesitated, his eyes lingering on Wade for a moment before he finally sat down. The silence that followed was thick, the easy banter from earlier replaced by a heavy, unspoken tension. Y/n could feel Logan’s frustration radiating off him, and Wade’s nervous energy was practically palpable.

« So… » Wade started, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. « You, uh, missed some prime pizza. And I even saved you a slice. It’s in the kitchen, waiting for you, like a good little slice of heaven. »

Logan just grunted again, staring at the coffee table instead of acknowledging the gesture. Y/n felt the tension mounting and knew she had to do something before things got worse.

She gently nudged Logan with her elbow, giving him a small, encouraging smile. « Maybe you should eat something. Might help you feel better. »

Logan glanced at her, his hard exterior softening just a bit under her gaze. But before he could respond, Wade cleared his throat, drawing both of their attention back to him.

« Listen, Logan, » Wade began, his usual bravado faltering as he tried to sound casual. « I know I’m not exactly Mr. Sensitivity, but…have I done something to piss you off more than usual? You’ve been, uh, a little more…murderous lately, and I’m starting to think it’s not just my charming personality. »

Logan frowned. « What are you talking about? You’re always fucking annoying, bub. »

Wade forced a laugh, but there was an edge of vulnerability in his voice that Logan couldn’t ignore. « Yeah, I know, but it feels like I’m more of a target than usual. Like, did I cross some line? Or is it just me being my usual, lovable self? »

Y/n squeezed Logan’s hand gently, trying to ground him.

He looked at her, his frustration battling with the guilt that was slowly taking over. Admitting that something was wrong was never easy for him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted.

« It’s not…It’s not you, Wade, » Logan finally muttered, though his tone was still gruff. « I’ve got a lot of stuff on my mind and, uh, I guess I’ve been taking it out on you. »

Wade’s expression shifted, a mixture of relief and concern. « Okay, so…what’s on your mind, then? Maybe I can help. Or, at least, I can try to stop doing whatever it is that’s making you want to claw my face off. »

Logan didn’t answer right away, his eyes darting between Wade and Y/n. He could see the worry in her eyes, the way she was trying to keep the peace between them. It only made him feel worse. He wasn’t used to people caring so much, and it unsettled him.

« It’s nothing you can help with, » Logan said after a long pause, his voice softer now. « Just…shit I’m dealing with. Doesn’t mean I hate you, Wade. Just means I’m not great at dealing with stuff. Also, you’re still a pain in the ass. »

Wade nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. « Okay, I can get that. I appreciate it. But, you know, I’m not exactly great at feelings and all that, but I’m here if you need to… I don’t know, punch something or whatever. »

Logan managed a small smile at that, finally meeting Wade’s gaze. « Yeah, I know that. Thanks. »

Wade grinned, his usual energy starting to return. “Well, now that we’ve had our little therapy session, how about we crack open another beer and watch a good movie? It’s like the ultimate bonding experience. And what’s the best thing for that? A fucking musical.”

Logan’s expression immediately soured. « You’ve got to be kidding me. »

Wade’s grin only grew. « Oh yeah, peanut! »

Y/n laughed, her eyes twinkling with excitement as Logan let out an exaggerated groan, his shoulders slumping as he reluctantly gave in.

Wade chuckled and patted Logan on the back. « Let’s fucking go. »

As they settled onto the couch, Logan couldn’t help but shake his head in amusement. Despite his grumbling, there was a genuine warmth in his eyes as he looked at Y/n and Wade. He found himself laughing at Wade’s over-the-top dance moves and Y/n’s infectious joy.

Logan glanced at his girlfriend, who was practically glowing with happiness as she sang along to the movie’s songs. It was clear he was enjoying himself, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

___

Later that night, after Wade had left and they were alone again, Logan stayed behind at Y/n’s apartment. He was still living with Wade but coming back home after tonight wasn’t the best idea. He needed the calm he found in Y/n’s home. They sat together on the couch, the remnants of their evening scattered around them.

« You know, you handled that pretty well. » she said softly.

Logan let out a long breath, leaning back against the couch. « Yeah, well, didn’t feel like it at the time. »

« But you did, and that’s what matters. » she insisted, turning to look at him.

He looked down at her, his gaze softening as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. « I don’t know what I’d do without you. »

She smiled, leaning into his touch. « Lucky for you, you won’t have to find out. »

Logan pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on top of her head. For the first time in a while, he felt like things were starting to make sense again.

He tilted his head slightly, brushing his lips against the top of her head. She lifted her head up, catching his gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of affection and relief. Logan's eyes softened as he looked at her, the weight of the past few days seeming to lift.

He leaned in, pressing his lips against hers, soft and slow, as if she was made of glass. The most precious thing in his heart. Y/n's hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss.

When they finally pulled back, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing a little heavier.

Logan searched her eyes, his voice soft and sincere, a contrast to his usual gruff. « I love you. »

Y/n’s lips curled up. « I love you too, Lo. »

For the first time in a while, he felt a deep sense of peace. And as they sat there, surrounded by the soft glow of the apartment, he knew that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, they’d be okay. They’ll always find a way.

Thank you for reading <3

#fanfiction #fandom #ao3 #logan howlett x reader #deadpool and wolverine #marvel cinematic universe #logan howlett #hugh jackman x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #xmen fanfiction #xmen x reader #wade wilson #deadpool 3 #deadpool movies #deadpool

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disabled-dragoon · 1 year

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The Disability Library

I love books, I love literature, and I love this blog, but it's only been recently that I've really been given the option to explore disabled literature, and I hate that. When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be able to read about characters like me, and now as an adult, all I want is to be able to read a book that takes us seriously.

And so, friends, Romans, countrymen, I present, a special disability and chronic illness booklist, compiled by myself and through the contributions of wonderful members from this site!

As always, if there are any at all that you want me to add, please just say. I'm always looking for more!

Edit 20/10/2023: You can now suggest books using the google form at the bottom!

Updated: 31/08/2023

Articles and Chapters

The Drifting Language of Architectural Accessibility in Victor Hugo's Notre-Dame de Paris, Essaka Joshua, 2012

Early Modern Literature and Disability Studies, Allison P. Hobgood, David Houston Wood, 2017

How Do You Develop Whole Object Relations as an Adult?, Elinor Greenburg, 2019

Making Do with What You Don't Have: Disabled Black Motherhood in Octavia E. Butler's Parable of the Sower and Parable of the Talents, Anna Hinton, 2018

Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2003 OR Necropolitics, Achille Mbeme, 2019

Wasted Lives: Modernity and Its Outcasts, Zygmunt Bauman, 2004

Witchcraft and deformity in early modern English Literature, Scott Eaton, 2020

Books

Fiction:

Misc:

10 Things I Can See From Here, Carrie Mac

A-F:

A Curse So Dark and Lonely, (Series), Brigid Kemmerer

Akata Witch, (Series), Nnedi Okorafor

A Mango-Shaped Space, Wendy Mass

Ancillary Justice, (Series), Ann Leckie

An Unkindness of Ghosts, Rivers Solomon

An Unseen Attraction, (Series), K. J. Charles

A Shot in the Dark, Victoria Lee

A Snicker of Magic, Natalie Lloyd

A Song of Ice and Fire, (series), George R. R. Martin

A Spindle Splintered, (Series), Alix E. Harrow

A Time to Dance, Padma Venkatraman

Bath Haus, P. J. Vernon

Beasts of Prey, (Series), Ayana Gray

The Bedlam Stacks, (Series), Natasha Pulley

Black Bird, Blue Road, Sofiya Pasternack

Black Sun, (Series), Rebecca Roanhorse

Blood Price, (Series), Tanya Huff

Borderline, (Series), Mishell Baker

Breath, Donna Jo Napoli

The Broken Kingdoms, (Series), N.K. Jemisin

Brute, Kim Fielding

Cafe con Lychee, Emery Lee

Carry the Ocean, (Series), Heidi Cullinan

Challenger Deep, Neal Shusterman

Cinder, (Series), Marissa Meyer

Clean, Amy Reed

Connection Error, (Series), Annabeth Albert

Cosima Unfortunate Steals A Star, Laura Noakes

Crazy, Benjamin Lebert

Crooked Kingdom, (Series), Leigh Bardugo

Daniel Cabot Puts Down Roots, (Series), Cat Sebastian

Daniel, Deconstructed, James Ramos

Dead in the Garden, (Series), Dahlia Donovan

Dear Fang, With Love, Rufi Thorpe

Deathless Divide, (Series), Justina Ireland

The Degenerates, J. Albert Mann

The Doctor's Discretion, E.E. Ottoman

Earth Girl, (Series), Janet Edwards

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead, Emily R. Austin

The Extraordinaries, (Series), T. J. Klune

The Extraordinary Education of Nicholas Benedict, (Series), Trenton Lee Stewart

Fight + Flight, Jules Machias

The Final Girl Support Group, Grady Hendrix

Finding My Voice, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The First Thing About You, Chaz Hayden

Follow My Leader, James B. Garfield

Forever Is Now, Mariama J. Lockington

Fortune Favours the Dead, (Series), Stephen Spotswood

Fresh, Margot Wood

H-0:

Harmony, London Price

Harrow the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Hench, (Series), Natalia Zina Walschots

Highly Illogical Behaviour, John Corey Whaley

Honey Girl, Morgan Rogers

How to Become a Planet, Nicole Melleby

How to Bite Your Neighbor and Win a Wager, (Series), D. N. Bryn

How to Sell Your Blood & Fall in Love, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites, Joy Demorra

I Am Not Alone, Francisco X. Stork

The Immeasurable Depth of You, Maria Ingrande Mora

In the Ring, Sierra Isley

Into The Drowning Deep, (Series), Mira Grant

Iron Widow, (Series), Xiran Jay Zhao

Izzy at the End of the World, K. A. Reynolds

Jodie's Journey, Colin Thiele

Just by Looking at Him, Ryan O'Connell

Kissing Doorknobs, Terry Spencer Hesser

Lakelore, Anna-Marie McLemore

Learning Curves, (Series), Ceillie Simkiss

Let's Call It a Doomsday, Katie Henry

The Library of the Dead, (Series), TL Huchu

The Lion Hunter, (Series), Elizabeth Wein

Lirael, (Series), Garth Nix

Long Macchiatos and Monsters, Alison Evans

Love from A to Z, (Series), S.K. Ali

Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses, Kristen O'Neal

Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro

The Never Tilting World, (Series), Rin Chupeco

The No-Girlfriend Rule, Christen Randall

Nona the Ninth, (series), Tamsyn Muir

Noor, Nnedi Okorafor

Odder Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Once Stolen, (Series), D. N. Bryn

One For All, Lillie Lainoff

On the Edge of Gone, Corinne Duyvis

Origami Striptease, Peggy Munson

Our Bloody Pearl, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Out of My Mind, Sharon M. Draper

P-T:

Parable of the Sower, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Parable of the Talents, (Series), Octavia E. Butler

Percy Jackson & the Olympians, (series), Rick Riordan

Pomegranate, Helen Elaine Lee

The Prey of Gods, Nicky Drayden

The Pursuit Of..., (Series), Courtney Milan

The Queen's Thief, (Series), Megan Whalen Turner

The Quiet and the Loud, Helena Fox

The Raging Quiet, Sheryl Jordan

The Reanimator's Heart, (Series), Kara Jorgensen

The Remaking of Corbin Wale, Joan Parrish

Roll with It, (Series), Jamie Sumner

Russian Doll, (Series), Cristelle Comby

The Second Mango, (Series), Shira Glassman

Scar of the Bamboo Leaf, Sieni A.M

Shaman, (Series), Noah Gordon

Sick Kids in Love, Hannah Moskowitz

The Silent Boy, Lois Lowry

Six of Crows, (Series) Leigh Bardugo

Sizzle Reel, Carlyn Greenwald

The Spare Man, Mary Robinette Kowal

The Stagsblood Prince, (Series), Gideon E. Wood

Stake Sauce, Arc 1: The Secret Ingredient is Love. No, Really, (Series), RoAnna Sylver

Stars in Your Eyes, Kacen Callender [Expected release: Oct 2023]

The Storm Runner, (Series), J. C. Cervantes

Stronger Still, (Series), D. N. Bryn

Sweetblood, Pete Hautman

Tarnished Are the Stars, Rosiee Thor

The Theft of Sunlight, (Series), Intisar Khanani

Throwaway Girls, Andrea Contos

Top Ten, Katie Cotugno

Torch, Lyn Miller-Lachmann

Treasure, Rebekah Weatherspoon

Turtles All the Way Down, John Green

U-Z:

Unlicensed Delivery, Will Soulsby-McCreath Expected release October 2023

Verona Comics, Jennifer Dugan

Vorkosigan Saga, (Series), Lois McMaster Bujold

We Are the Ants, (Series), Shaun David Hutchinson

The Weight of Our Sky, Hanna Alkaf

Whip, Stir and Serve, Caitlyn Frost and Henry Drake

The Whispering Dark, Kelly Andrew

Wicked Sweet, Chelsea M. Cameron

Wonder, (Series), R. J. Palacio

Wrong to Need You, (Series), Alisha Rai

Ziggy, Stardust and Me, James Brandon

Graphic Novels:

A Quick & Easy Guide to Sex & Disability, (Non-Fiction), A. Andrews

Constellations, Kate Glasheen

Dancing After TEN: a graphic memoir, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Vivian Chong, Georgia Webber

Everything Is an Emergency: An OCD Story in Words Pictures, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Jason Adam Katzenstein

Frankie's World: A Graphic Novel, (Series), Aoife Dooley

The Golden Hour, Niki Smith

Nimona, N. D. Stevenson

The Third Person, (memoir) (Non-Fiction), Emma Grove

Magazines and Anthologies:

Artificial Divide, (Anthology), Robert Kingett, Randy Lacey

Beneath Ceaseless Skies #175: Grandmother-nai-Leylit's Cloth of Winds, (Article), R. B. Lemburg

Defying Doomsday, (Anthology), edited by Tsana Dolichva and Holly Kench

Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, (short story) (anthology), Seiko Tanabe

Nothing Without Us, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Nothing Without Us Too, edited by Cait Gordon and Talia C. Johnson

Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens, (Anthology), edited by Marieke Nijkamp

Uncanny #24: Disabled People Destroy Science Fiction, (Anthology), edited by: Elsa Sjunneson-Henry, Dominik Parisien et al.

Uncanny #30: Disabled People Destroy Fantasy, (Anthology), edited by: Nicolette Barischoff, Lisa M. Bradley, Katharine Duckett

We Shall Be Monsters, edited by Derek Newman-Stille

Manga:

Perfect World, (Series), Rie Aruga

The Sky is Blue with a Single Cloud, (Short Stories), Kuniko Tsurita

Non-Fiction:

Academic Ableism: Disability and Higher Education, Jay Timothy Dolmage

A Disability History of the United States, Kim E, Nielsen

The Architecture of Disability: Buildings, Cities, and Landscapes beyond Access, David Gissen

Being Seen: One Deafblind Woman's Fight to End Ableism, Elsa Sjunneson

Black Disability Politics, Sami Schalk

Borderline, Narcissistic, and Schizoid Adaptations: The Pursuit of Love, Admiration, and Safety, Dr. Elinor Greenburg

Brilliant Imperfection: Grappling with Cure, Eli Clare

The Cambridge Companion to Literature and Disability, Barker, Clare and Stuart Murray, editors.

The Capacity Contract: Intellectual Disability and the Question of Citizenship, Stacy Clifford Simplican

Capitalism and Disability, Martha Russel

Care work: Dreaming Disability Justice, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Catatonia, Shutdown and Breakdown in Autism: A Psycho-Ecological Approach, Dr Amitta Shah

The Collected Schizophrenias: Essays, Esme Weijun Wang

Crip Kinship, Shayda Kafai

Crip Up the Kitchen: Tools, Tips and Recipes for the Disabled Cook, Jules Sherred

Culture – Theory – Disability: Encounters between Disability Studies and Cultural Studies, Anne Waldschmidt, Hanjo Berressem, Moritz Ingwersen

Decarcerating Disability: Deinstitutionalization and Prison Abolition, Liat Ben-Moshe

Demystifying Disability: What to Know, What to Say, and How to Be an Ally, Emily Ladau

Dirty River: A Queer Femme of Color Dreaming Her Way Home, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Disability Pride: Dispatches from a Post-ADA World, Ben Mattlin

Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories From the Twenty-First Century, Alice Wong

Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability and Making Space, Amanda Leduc

Every Cripple a Superhero, Christoph Keller

Exile and Pride: Disability, Queerness and Liberation, Eli Clare

Feminist Queer Crip, Alison Kafer

The Future Is Disabled: Prophecies, Love Notes, and Mourning Songs, Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha

Growing Up Disabled in Australia, Carly Findlay

It's Just Nerves: Notes on a Disability, Kelly Davio

The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot

Language Deprivation & Deaf Mental Health, Neil S. Glickman, Wyatte C. Hall

The Minority Body: A Theory of Disability, Elizabeth Barnes

My Body and Other Crumbling Empires: Lessons for Healing in a World That Is Sick, Lyndsey Medford

No Right to Be Idle: The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s, Sarah F. Rose

Nothing About Us Without Us: Disability Oppression and Empowerment, James I. Charlton

The Pedagogy of Pathologization Dis/abled Girls of Color in the School-prison Nexus, Subini Ancy Annamma

Physical Disability in British Romantic Literature, Essaka Joshua

QDA: A Queer Disability Anthology, Raymond Luczak, Editor.

The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability, Jasbir K. Puar

Sitting Pretty, (memoir), Rebecca Taussig

Sounds Like Home: Growing Up Black & Deaf in the South, Mary Herring Wright

Surviving and Thriving with an Invisible Chronic Illness: How to Stay Sane and Live One Step Ahead of Your Symptoms, Ilana Jacqueline

The Things We Don't Say: An Anthology of Chronic Illness Truths, Julie Morgenlender

Uncanny Bodies: Superhero Comics and Disability, Scott T. Smith, José Alaniz

Uncomfortable Labels: My Life as a Gay Autistic Trans Woman, (memoir), Laura Kate Dale

Unmasking Autism, Devon Price

The War on Disabled People: Capitalism, Welfare and the Making of a Human Catastrophe, Ellen Clifford

We've Got This: Essays by Disabled Parents, Eliza Hull

Year of the Tiger: An Activist's Life, (memoir) (essays) Alice Wong

Picture Books:

A Day With No Words, Tiffany Hammond, Kate Cosgrove-

A Friend for Henry, Jenn Bailey, Mika Song

Ali and the Sea Stars, Ali Stroker, Gillian Reid

All Are Welcome, Alexandra Penfold, Suzanne Kaufman

All the Way to the Top, Annette Bay Pimentel, Jennifer Keelan-Chaffins, Nabi Ali

Can Bears Ski?, Raymond Antrobus, Polly Dunbar

Different -- A Great Thing to Be!, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

Everyone Belongs, Heather Alvis, Sarah Mensinga

I Talk Like a River, Jordan Scott, Sydney Smith

Jubilee: The First Therapy Horse and an Olympic Dream, K. T. Johnson, Anabella Ortiz

Just Ask!, Sonia Sotomayor, Rafael López

Kami and the Yaks, Andrea Stenn Stryer, Bert Dodson

My Three Best Friends and Me, Zulay, Cari Best, Vanessa Brantley-Newton

Rescue & Jessica: A Life-Changing Friendship, Jessica Kensky, Patrick Downes, Scott Magoon

Sam's Super Seats, Keah Brown, Sharee Miller

Small Knight and the Anxiety Monster, Manka Kasha

We Move Together, Kelly Fritsch, Anne McGuire, Eduardo Trejos

We're Different, We're the Same, and We're All Wonderful!, Bobbi Jane Kates, Joe Mathieu

What Happened to You?, James Catchpole, Karen George

The World Needs More Purple People, Kristen Bell, Benjamin Hart, Daniel Wiseman

You Are Enough: A Book About Inclusion, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

You Are Loved: A Book About Families, Margaret O'Hair, Sofia Sanchez, Sofia Cardoso

The You Kind of Kind, Nina West, Hayden Evans

Zoom!, Robert Munsch, Michael Martchenko

Plays:

Peeling, Kate O'Reilly

---

With an extra special thank you to @parafoxicalk @craftybookworms @lunod @galaxyaroace @shub-s @trans-axolotl @suspicious-whumping-egg @ya-world-challenge @fictionalgirlsworld @rubyjewelqueen @some-weird-queer-writer @jacensolodjo @cherry-sys @dralthon @thebibliosphere @brynwrites @aj-grimoire @shade-and-sun @ceanothusspinosus @edhelwen1 @waltzofthewifi @spiderleggedhorse @sleepneverheardofher @highladyluck @oftheides @thecouragetobekind @nopoodles @lupadracolis @elusivemellifluence @creativiteaa @moonflowero1 @the-bi-library @chronically-chaotic-cryptid for your absolutely fantastic contributions!

---

Submit a Book:

#disability resources #disability #chronic illness #disability books #books #resources #book list #disability literature #literature #disability representation #disabled characters #information #informative #disability education #disability history #disability rights #please add to this #to be updated #long post

2K notes · View notes

chelseeebe · 11 months

Text

just wanna (get with you).

okkkk i promise i am not neglecting promise (i am) but i just had to get this out before the thought left my mind. this is just to say nancy wheeler i love you and i’m sorry

18+. smut. steve is an adulterer. but it’s okieee bc it’s hot <3

this is very much richboy!steve, he is very cocky and brash and very much not afraid of it

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

you had prepared to spend thanksgiving break alone in your room, honestly quite happy not to have to go home and deal with your car crash of a family.

that was until stacy had caught wind of your lonely plans and interjected, offering you an invite to her family’s massive home. now, it’d be rude not to accept, right?

you totally weren’t influenced by the fact that her older brother would definitely be there, not at all.

the drive up was a long slog, hours until you ended up in the middle of buttfuck indiana. it’s not somewhere you ever envisioned yourself spending the holidays but she had ensured that it was nice enough. her parents were.. interesting but as you were there, they’d probably at least try to keep up appearances. there wasn’t much else going on but in this tiny town but it gave you a chance to relax and ogle her brother.

their house is huge, like, ridiculously big. much bigger than their small family needed. from what stacy has confided in you, you can gather that her parents are hardly even home. they like to make a big deal about holidays to give the impression of a well put together family but if anything, they’re on the brink of divorce and only holding it together for the fear of being seen as failures.

not that your family are much better, but at least they don’t pretend to like eachother.

steve is up at the door the moment stacy unlocks it, waiting to see which of her sorority friends she’d decided to bring along.

he grins the second he sees you, taking your bag out of your hand and introducing himself before you can even begin to speak. not that you mind.

‘leave her alone, steve,’ stacy warns, rolling her eyes as she begins up the stairs, motioning for you to follow.

‘why don’t you leave me alone? i’m just being a good host, isn’t that right?’ he smiles at you, lugging your bag up the extravagant staircase and toward the room you’ve been assigned.

it’s not as if there’s a lack of them, a multitude of white doors that probably sat empty. it’s incredible how a house could cost so much and yet lack character despite the ample space to decorate.

she shoves him out of the way the second you make it into the room, ‘don’t you have anything better to do?’

‘uh uh,’ he’s smirking now and it’s making your heart feel funny. it’s wrong, totally wrong. but you can’t help it.

when he’d appeared on move in day you’d been star struck, his caramel coloured hair flopping into his eyes and the way his t-shirt clung to his arms had caught you immediately.

you and the rest of the girls in the house, obviously.

‘well go and find something to do you fucking loser,’ pushing him out of the door and slamming it in his face.

you couldn’t exactly tell her that it was fine and actually you preferred if he stayed.. so you grin and give her a fake chuckle, looking around at the room you were to call home for the next week.

‘i’m sorry,’ she sighs, ‘ignore him.. he’s just like that,’ walking over to the pristine bed. it obviously hadn’t been slept in for a while, you don’t doubt that they rarely have guests.

‘it’s okay,’ you smile, exhilarated for what this week will bring.

you don’t see much of the illusive mr. harrington, burrowed away in his office for most of the day with his wife busying around the kitchen, putting on an unnecessarily large spread each day. now you’re not a psychologist but even you can gather that she’s trying to make up for something.

stacy had bundled you into her room under the pretence of studying, both of you sat on her bed with neglected open books. opting to gossip about shit in your house rather than the looming finals.

steve knocks on the door and rushes in without waiting, standing in the doorway with a devilish grin. ‘mom’s drunk again.. you two wanna get out of here before it gets ugly?’ leaning against the doorframe.

he looks extra good today, his grey sweatpants sitting just right. you’re mindful to pull your eyes away when he nears the bed though his eyes never leave you.

‘like what?’ stacy frowns, sitting up and closing the untouched book.

‘i dunno..’ he shrugs, ‘i just don’t wanna be here when he gets back and she’s drunk again,’ fiddling with some trinket on stacy’s shelf.

you can tell that stacy’s not keen on the idea but she doesn’t want to be here for that scene either. you can empathise entirely, which is the exact reason you decided not to go home.

‘okay,’ she turns to you, ‘you okay with that?’

‘yeah.. sounds good,’ smiling at your friend. in your peripheral, you can see steve’s lips twitch into a smirk, cocky bastard.

much to your dismay, the three of you end up bowling. which you wouldn’t usually mind, but the alley was full to the brim with parents and their screaming children, running around the lanes hyped up on copious amounts of sugar.

not to mention the blaring christmas music that was entirely too loud for a tuesday afternoon.

‘you bowl much?’ steve scoots over on the bench, leaning in to whisper of the screeching kids.

‘not really,’ shaking your head innocently, ‘do you?’

‘yeah i’m alright.. i can teach you, if you want?’ ever the opportunist. who were you to deny him that?

‘okay,’ you giggle, blinking up at his chocolate coloured eyes.

it’s pathetic but your knees almost crumble when he walks up behind you, arms coming to envelope yours, large hands perched over yours as stacy tuts and turns away.

‘like this..’ his chest presses against your back, pulling your arm back and letting the ball roll down the lane.

you very nearly groan when he pulls away, hand lingering on your elbow as the pair of you watch the pins knock over. he smiles gently at you without even looking at the pins, he’s already sure he’d won.

‘thanks,’ you nod, keeping your own smile contained as you walk back to the bench, squishing in next to a less than impressed stacy. she’s not stupid but doesn’t dare to say anything and you’re grateful for that at least.

you watch steve take his turn, wondering how much longer you can feign incompetence to get him to touch you.

their house is quiet when you get back. eerily quiet. stacy and steve share a look before heading inside and you already know to prepare for the worst.

mr. harrington is sat facing the blank television, sipping on a small glass of what you presume is whiskey. the fire blazing in front of him, crackling loudly in the otherwise silent house.

‘your mother’s in bed,’ is all he says, refusing to turn around to face his children. he’s a stoic man at the best of times but seemed extra cold tonight. you don’t want to think about what had happened while you were out.

the atmosphere brings you crashing down out of your high, the loud bowling alley seemed like a dream compared to the moody room you stood in. at least your family were entertaining in all their madness. this was just depressing and you don’t have to wonder just why stacy is the way she is now.

steve slinks off upstairs without saying a word and stacy follows, head ducked down. they’ve probably been through this exact routine a hundred times before. you follow along silently, assuming that mr. harrington definitely didn’t want you hanging around downstairs.

before stacy slips away into her room, you grab onto her elbow, pulling her round to face you, ‘my mom drinks too.. i know what it’s like,’ offering some meek words of encouragement. it’s not a lot but you can empathise with the sinking feeling you know she’s feeling.

she gives you a small smile, pulling you in for a quick hug as the shower starts in the bathroom to your left. steve hadn’t hung around, disappearing before you even made it up the stairs.

‘night,’ you mutter before entering your own room.

there had been a tiny part of you that had hoped maybe tonight something would happen but with the scene downstairs and steve’s eagerness to get away, you doubt it.

there’s an almost silent knock at your door, if you were any sleepier, you would’ve missed it.

you know who it is.. what’s waiting on the other side of that door and for a second, you contemplate it. you could very easily turn over and drift off to sleep without ever finding out what could’ve been.. but, you’re not going to do that. not after you’d optimistically worn your best pajamas, dousing yourself in perfume before you had climbed into bed.

sliding out of the bed to open the door quietly and just as you expected, steve is on the other side with a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

he doesn’t speak before stepping into the room, shutting the door gently as you stand expectantly before him. your heart is pounding, it’d jump out of your chest if it could.

‘steve,’ you barely whisper, ignoring the growing ache between your thighs. enthralled by the sheer tension in the room, it makes the air heavy, weighing on your shoulders as you practically pant at him.

in one quick move he’s stood in front of you, hands cradling your waist, confidence oozing off of his smile. his hair is still wet, falling onto his face perfectly. it’s almost cruel that someone could look so good so effortlessly.

‘i need you,’ he whispers, his spider-like lashes cascading a shadow over his face in the dull light. he’s so perfect it hurts.

you choose not to reply with words, hastily planting your lips on his, closing the minuscule gap between your bodies as your chest presses to his. you’re walked backwards towards the bed, the excitement is palpable, his hands barely able to contain themselves as they grip and squeeze your flesh.

steve falls backwards onto the bed, pulling you atop of him, clumsily readjusting your knees either side of his hips, gasping into his slack mouth when his grinds upwards, his already erect cock nudging against your core.

pulling your shirt over your head before reconnecting his lips to your jaw, planting hungry kisses to the exposed skin of your neck. this is everything you’ve dreamed of since you arrived, the feel of him desperately moving beneath you becoming entirely too much. you needed him now.

he shimmies his own sweatpants down his thighs, choosing boldly to not wear any underwear. he’s big. his cock springing up against his stomach, gazing down into the space between you, mouth hung open as he works your shorts down with his delicate fingers.

‘what?’ he hushes innocently as if he doesn’t already know. his hand leaves your thigh to wrap around the base of his dick, pumping his fist ever so slowly.

your eyes meet his again, feeling your cheeks flush as the corner of his mouth twitches. if he weren’t so hot, his cockiness would be sickening. but you’re not one to bend to the will of men, brushing off his nerve and instead moving to grip onto his shoulders, positioning yourself above his leaking cock.

‘i know what you sorority girls are like.. you don’t have to- fuck,’ his head rolling back as you lower yourself onto him, gasping quietly at the feeling of fullness that quickly overtakes every other sense.

your fingers clamp around his jaw, pulling his face back up to meet yours, ‘what was that?’ sighing through muffled moans as you begin to rut your hips.

you have him at your mercy, moving your hips antagonistically slow, relishing in the sight of his hooded eyes struggling to stay open, soft pants escaping his lips with every careful movement.

‘ho- shit,’ his fingernails leaving crescent moons into your hips and ass, desperate to cling onto your body in any way he can. guiding your body up and down with the palms of his hands.

‘shh,’ you mutter, connecting your lips to the corner of his mouth in an attempt to quiet his groans. as lavish as this house is, you can bet that it’s not soundproof.

‘you’re so.. fuck- faster baby,’ he whines into your mouth, unappreciative of the calm pace you had set. enjoying the fact that you now held the upper hand, but also acutely aware that the sounds of skin-on-skin are indisputable, paired with his grunts, you’d be caught out in a second.

‘nuhuh,’ shaking your head slightly, face pressed into his sharp jaw, hoping to stifle some of the noises come from your throat.

this is when steve decides he’s had enough, this was his house and if anyone had anything to say then they could. his arm snakes around your waist, holding you in place above him as his legs spread, heels digging into the mattress.

your lips connect once again, in a sloppy kiss that requires minimal effort as his hips begin to thrust up, punching against that soft, spongy spot deep within. and now you’re the one responsible for the too-loud moans, practically screaming into his mouth as his tongue slips into your open mouth. his smirk evident against your lips as his thrusts grow faster.

chasing the same high you can feel growing in the pits of your stomach. you’re not even kissing at this point, lips pressed against the stubble on his cheek as his grip tightens, low grunts rumbling into the minimal space between you with every thrust.

‘oh god,’ you mewl, the all too familiar twist in your gut as his hips begin to stutter, the sound of your bodies connecting was spurring both of you on. not caring about your volume level as you come crashing over the edge.

babbling his name over and over again as you clench around him, shoving your face into his neck as pleasure soars all the way down to your toes, the sensation overwhelming your poor fucked-out brain.

his hands paw at the doughy flesh of your ass, resigning his last bit of energy for his last thrusts, hot spurts of cum paint your walls. steve’s teeth graze against your bare shoulder, suppressing his almighty moan as you collapse into a heap on top of him.

you feel like jelly, unable to lift your head when he pulls out, allowing him to manhandle your body as he shuffles down the bed. you shift slightly, moving to the empty space beside him, reaching down for the blanket, desperate for some modesty despite the explicit scene this room had just witnessed.

that was everything you’d imagined it’d be and more.

‘jesus,’ he sniffs, relaxing into your bed as if he belonged there, ‘anyone ever told you how fucking good you feel?’ his arm reaching out to pull your body into his once more.

‘shut up,’ you mumble, still very much coming back to earth. trying not to get too comfortable with this arrangement but letting your leg slide between his.

his other hand flicks the tiny lamp off, leaving the room in complete darkness. toned arms coming to rest around your waist, chin resting against your head.

‘you can’t sleep in here,’ you warn, though you wouldn’t complain if he did.

‘why not? this is my house, i can sleep wherever i want,’ his fingertips dart around your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

you don’t argue, settling into your comfy position nestled into his side. it’s not long before sleep takes over as his fingers trace silly patterns into your back.

but you’re rudely awoken at stupid o’clock in the morning, the sun barely rising outside of the tiny window. steve’s grumbling, tapping softly on your shoulder.

‘i’ve gotta go,’ he whispers into your hair, pulling the blanket off of his body and onto yours.

you’re barely coherent enough to understand what he’s saying, nodding along absentmindedly as sleep negs to take over again. ever the gentleman, he places a kiss to your forehead before climbing out of bed and rushing out of the room.

he’s gone before you even wake up fully, not registering what had happened until you wake up again, this time at a more appropriate hour.

it’s only then that fear takes over. had you misjudged how loud you were? what if someone had heard? there’s no way they’d turf you out on thanksgiving.. would they?

yet all seems normal when you slink downstairs, joining stacy at the table as she butters toast without a word to be said about your antics. you pray to every being above that you had gone undetected.

‘morning sleepyhead,’ stacy utters, seemingly in a much better mood than the one you left her in last night, ‘sleep well?’

you stare at her for a moment, deciding if the question is loaded or if she’s genuinely interested in how you slept.

‘yeah.. really good, you?’ testing the waters.

‘yeah not bad,’ she smiles, a genuine smile that allows you to release the breath you didn’t know you were even holding.

phew. you were safe.

‘it’s about to get uh.. tense today so, we can just hang out in my room until dinner,’ she nods assuringly. you trust her, not wanting to bare witness to mr. harrington and his cryptic behaviour.

before you can reply, the front door opens and a small brunette walks in with steve trailing closely. behind her, carrying what looks like a suitcase with the most displeased look plastered on his face.

the woman hangs her coat on the hook, flashing a quick wave towards the kitchen where you sat gawping before heading upstairs quickly.

from here, she looked like a cousin or something, someone you hadn’t been told was attending.

she’s pretty, gorgeous eyes and a polite smile that makes you want to smile.

‘who’s that?’ you ask, perplexed at the sight of this stranger who is obviously so comfortable in their home.

‘oh, that’s nancy,’ stacy continues with her toast, not at all bothered by the new arrival.

‘she’s steve’s fiancée.’

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst

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multi-fandom-simp · 2 years

Text

Forever and always.. or maybe never.

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Hanahaki Disease!AU

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: Some say that you cannot die from a broken heart, but how wrong they are. When your lover and husband, Aemond Targaryen begins to find comfort in another, the universe takes pity on you. Well, if you can count a deadly flower disease as pity.

❗️TW❗️: Profanity, mention and descriptions of blood, descriptions of choking and vomiting, hints to infidelity, mild mature scene, violence, character death, angst

(A/N: Hello, this is my own take on Hanahaki's disease with Aemond! Feel free to comment your thoughts, I am always open to criticism and feedback! I hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 3.3K

Your love for Aemond hadn’t always been unrequited. At least you’d like to think it wasn’t. Both of you had grown together in the red keep as children. The two of you read together, ate together, and overall grew together. Aemond was your best friend before he was your betrothed. Whenever his mother was busy, it was your side that he clung to. The two of you were so attached at the hip that Alicent even took you to driftmark with them. You and the beast that came with you of course. No one really knows how you stumbled upon a hyena pup, nor how you tamed it to your side as a child. Nevertheless, they never forbid you from having it. If the Targaryens could have their dragons, and the Starks their dire wolves, then certainly you could have the tricky little beast that you insisted on calling Lark. In some ways, Alicent was thankful that you insisted on keeping it. After all, it was your hyena that stood between Aemond and the other children on that fateful night in driftmark. The beast had acted as your legs and ran faster than you could to reach the devastating brawl before you. Despite Aemond’s wails of pain, Lark refused to let the guards come too close. Only when you arrived did she move aside. Regardless of being young, that was the first night you realized your feelings for Aemond Targaryen. The very sight of him bleeding and broken struck you so deeply that you felt as if you had been maimed too. Alicent had noticed the change as well as she watched you stand by her son's side whilst he received stitches. Her dark eyes gazed deeply at how tightly you held Aemond’s hand, as if he would disappear. Aside from her, no one had ever loved her son this passionately, not even his own father.

“Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders” Rhaenyra demanded.

“ Was the blade of your son’s knife not enough sharpness for the night?” All eyes turned to you in surprise. You had never been known to speak out if it did not benefit you. Most of the time you were seen standing to the side, watching while others tore each other apart. Aemond could always see past it, see your true intentions. He knew you were studying how different people fought and where their weak points were. You had been around the red keep long enough to know that Lucerys Velaryon was Rhaenyra’s soft spot, and tonight you planned to use that against her.

“ You should watch your tongue when you speak to me” Rhaenyra warned, her eyes flickering over to her father to see if he would do anything.

“ or what, you’ll have Lucerys cut it out like he did Aemond’s eye” The neutrality on your face was enough to both scare and amaze Aemond.

“ You dar-”

“ Enough! My son has lost an eye and now you insist on arguing with a young girl?” Alicent moved up next to you, a hand on your back in support. She knew how terrifying it was to stand alone in a room full of adults scrutinizing you. That’s how her wedding felt after all. The queen’s hand never wavered through the interrogation of the green children. You held Aemond’s hand and she held you. Until things escalated that was. When the queen rushed towards Rhaenyra you stepped in front of Aemond. Shielding him from the sight of his mother in the midst of such violence. All Aemond could see in the midst of chaos was you, and all you could see was the river of blood on Rhaenyra’s arm. Little did you know how familiar you would be with crimson rivers in due time.

It was shortly after that night when your betrothal to the second son was announced. Alicent assured that it was needed to form an alliance between your family and theirs, when in reality it was a match made to ease the worried queen’s heart. In her eyes, no one else was a better match for Aemond than you, and for the longest time, you believed her. Oh, how foolish you were.

Six years passed with ease for the two of you. The first four were filled with fleeting touches, deep conversations, and young love.

“What is this, my lady, a journal?” Aemond’s voice floated around you as his chin found purchase on your shoulder.

“ And if it is?” You hummed, closing the leather-bound book a bit too quickly.

“ Then I fear I must inspect it. Wouldn’t want my future wife to be keeping secrets from me.” You recognized the playful jest in Aemond’s voice and wasted no time in rushing up from the bench.

“ Not so fast, my love.” Aemond chuckled, ensnaring you from behind.

“ Aemond!” You protested, smacking his locked arms with the leather bound book.

“ Have I ever told you how much I adore it when you fight back?” Aemond snickered, his breath hot on your neck.

“ You pervert!” You feigned offense before looking ahead to your pet, “ Lark, get him girl, c’mon!”

“ You know she won't come. That ole girl loves me as much as she loves you." Aemond smirked, whistling for Lark in the way you taught.

" Traitor." You grumble with a hidden smile as the Hyena trots over to the pair of you casually.

The two of you were married when he was seventeen and you were sixteen. Your union was repeated twice over. Once in front of a sept full of people, and then in the tradition of old valyria. Aemond wanted reassurance that you would never part from him. Your marriage fueled two more years full of what was now mature love.

The edge of your teeth pulled at the pillow of your bottom lip as you stared at the dark oak door. The sound of jeering men swarmed your thoughts and threatened the bile at the back of your throat. You tried to hide your discomfort for Aemonds sake, but he was keen to your reactions by now.

“ Do not fret, my love, I will not let them hear your noises. I would never let them hear what is only meant for me and you.” Aemond spoke lowly, using your hips to turn you towards him and away from the door.

“ They’ll hear regardless.” You muttered bitterly, “They’re sat out there with their ears pressed against the door just wa-”

“ I said they would not hear you and I meant it” Aemond murmured into your ear with a soft kiss to the sensitive skin just beneath it.

“Aem-” You sighed contently.

“That’s it..sȳz riña.”Good girl. Your breathing faltered as the pet name slipped past his lips. He had figured out how much you liked to be praised from your journals.

“ You r-remebered…”You managed to gasp as he trailed down your neck.

“ I remember anything and everything that has to do with you, my love. I always will.” Aemond promised between wet kisses. You shouldn’t have believed him, but you did.

You never would’ve thought that you could fall deeper in love with Aemond Targaryen after that night, but nine months later proved you wrong. The sight of him by your side as you delivered your son set permanent hearts in your eyes. He had not cared for the blood or screams, only you and the babe. The babe who he later named Aemys because it was as close as he could get to amethyst, your favorite color. Every little detail of the things he did revolves around you. That’s what fueled your denial the first time you coughed up blood.

Your eyes stared hard at the bloody petal laying in your palm. Had that come from you? You had read strange tales of those who bled flowers, but you believed it only to be fiction. Surly your blood would not change at the ripe age of ten and nine.

“ The flower that once bloomed love will soon bloom blood. “ Helaena aimlessly mumbled to herself from beside you.

“ What..?”Your heart sped up as you analyzed her words. No one had ever paid any mind to her silly riddles, except for you.

“ Blooming blood blooms a burial.” This time Helaena was focused on you as she spoke. Her eyes filled with unknown sorrow. You left Aemys to play with his cousins as you rushed to the library. No one else was there to question your sanity as you pulled book after book from the shelf to find the old dornish fables that lay hidden among them.

“Hanahaki..”Every word, every page, and every definition seemed to tear you apart further as you read. No other condition led to flowery bile except for this one. Aemond loved you though. How could this be possible?

Your thoughts would be answered two morrows later when Aemond returned from his siege of Harrenhal. Everyone had expected to see him arrive on dragon back alone, certainly not with a strong bastard. A gorgeous strong bastard at that. You felt your chest tighten as you gazed upon her dark flowy locks and enchanting eyes. Oh by the seven, how could you spite him for loving someone like her? If circumstances were different, then perhaps you too would fall under her spell. It wasn’t until you saw the way she clung to Aemond’s arm that the coughing fit started. This had to be it. What else could it be? Aemond hated physical contact with strangers, yet he let a previously unknown wetnurse cling to him like a paramour. The harder you thought about it, the harder you coughed. The fit only resulted in a petal or two, but in time that would grow. The longer Alys rivers stayed, the worse you got. Both you and the universe could feel Aemond straying from you, even if he spoke differently.

“I am not in love with her!”Aemond snapped, reaching his breaking point in this petty argument that had started hours ago at dinner.

“ You do not see the things I see, Aemond. The way you defend her, encourage her, look at her…all in the way you used to look at me-” It took effort to fight down the sickness as you fought. It had been months, but you made no move to tell Aemond, you couldn’t.

“ I do not love her as I love you-”

“ Yes, but you love her!” You cried in outrage, gripping the wall near you for support. Everything became so out of focus as you spoke the words. It was the first time you had ever admitted it to yourself. The dew of brick cooled your skin as you leaned against the wall. Your body trembled with deep echoey coughs as petals tore their way up your throat.

“ I did not mean to make you sick, dear wife” Aemond spoke softly and simply. Wife. He had never called you that before, not even on your wedding night. It was always my love or Ñuha prūmia. How ironic for him to call you his heart when sooner or later he would be the reason yours cease to beat.

“ Just go, Aem, please.” You pleaded, turning away, “I do not wish to fight.”

“ As you wish.” Aemond’s bow before he left was the final straw to crack your heart open. Why must he be so formal when you stand dying a few feet away? How can he not see how badly you suffer? Were the shadows beneath your eyes, or the crack of your lips not big enough clues for him? Would you need to be dead for him to finally understand?

Unfortunately for you, that’s exactly how it was going to be. Everyone else around you had begun to notice the shift in your behavior. The fatigue, the paleness, and the emotions. Alicent first noticed it when she sat in the nursery with you, Helaena, and the children just after supper. She saw the way your eyes refused to leave Aemys as if it would be your last look. The way you held him was the same way she held Aemond when he lost his eye.

“ He’s a clever boy.” Alicent smiled as Aemys recited a word back to one of his cousins.

“ That he is.” You agreed, melancholy ghosting your lips. It hurt the queen to see you this way. You were a part of her almost as much as her children. You came to her as a child she was not forced to love nor conceive. Yet you wormed your way into her heart as if she had carried you. The sight of you so sickly and sad tugged at Alicent’s heart.

“ You’re sick, are you not?” Alicent proclaimed in observation rather than a question.

“ Mhm, In a way I suppose I am.” You hummed out softly. It had gotten to the point where it was hard to speak most days. The petals had begun to come up in thick, dry heaves, with occasional thorns that tore at your throat.

“ Have you told Aemond?” The queen inquired.

“ Aemond is the reason I’m sick in the first place.” You grumbled before sighing in defeat, “ Or I suppose it’s more of my fault. I was foolish to think he would ever actually love me.”

“ You don’t mean-” Alicent’s soft words trailed off abruptly. Alicent Hightower was no stranger to the hanahaki disease. She too had suffered through it once. Except she learned how to get around it.

“ I do.” You answered simply, with no trace of sadness or indifference.

“ There are ways around it my d-”

“ Such as forgoing my love for Aemond, I know. I could live a long life if I cast aside every loving memory I hold of him, but alas it is not that easy. I have tried, if that brings you any comfort. In the midst of the night when my eyes are swollen from tears and the blood in my throat is so thick I cannot breathe, I have tried, and I have failed.” Alicent’s eyes well with tears as you speak, almost as if she’s dared to imagine you in such dismay. You reach out to soothe her hands comfortingly, but she grips onto yours tightly instead.

“ It is not easy, but you must keep trying.” Alicent urges, a wobble to her voice.

“ There is no reason for me to put myself through the agony of erasing my happiness when I am already in physical torment. The sight of Aemond is the very reason I wake up every morning. Hearing his laugh, seeing his smile, and feeling his warmth are all things that have kept me going. Forgetting those would be forgetting myself.” You reason, a wisp of remembrance in your eyes.

“ If not for yourself, then for Aemys” Alicent argues.

“ Aemys is one of the reasons I have chosen to give up. Every time I look at him I see Aemond. They are alike in everything but the eyes. The mere sight of that boy reminds me of the night he was made, of the love and passion Aemond had for me. Yet he no longer holds in regards to me. I would rather Aemys hear stories of his parent’s love than grow up with two plain parents.” The child in topic bursts into giggles a few inches away, stealing your attention from the queen. Your eyes crinkle with happiness and you move to turn towards him, but Alicent holds firm.

“ Aemys needs his mother.” She argues once more.

“ He does not. Aemys will have a loving father and grandmother by his side. Alongside his aunt Helaena, Uncle Daeron, and three beautiful cousins. Even Aegon cares for the little rascals’ life.” You chuckled.

“ That is n-”

“ Please, I have made my choice. I appreciate your council, but it is too late. I fear after I lay my son to sleep, it will be my last night alive. I thank you for all the love and comfort you have given me in my lifetime. I love you, mother.” You pressed the meat of your cheek against Alicent’s hand in farewell before standing.

“ If you’ll excuse me-” As you stood to retrieve your son, Alicent excused herself from the room hastily. Never did she think she would find herself running through the castle’s corridors, but yet here she is. Alicent’s heels had been long forgotten and the emerald hem of her dress dragged upon the stone as she made haste to the library, where Aemond would be.

“ Aemond! Ae-” The frantic shrill of the queen mother’s voice echoes throughout the shelves.

“ Mother?” Aemond calls out, emerging from a row with a disheveled Alys in tow, “ Is something wrong?”

“ You hide away fondling a wet nurse while your wife withers away! Have I truly raised you this way?” The despair in Alicent’s voice takes Aemond by surprise. He reaches out to hold her arms, but she pulls away.

“ She is not withering away, mother. She has assured me that it is just a small cold.” Aemond speaks calmly, in hopes to ease his mother’s franticness.

“ A small cold!? She has every sign of hanahaki disease and you have not suspected a thing?” Alicent refuted.

“ Because it is not possible! I love her!” Aemond snaps.

“ Not enough!” Alicent sighs, “ In no world should I have had to be afraid of letting her go in fear that I would not see her again. She has accepted her death, Aemond. How far out of love have you fallen with her to the point where your wife greets death openly?”

Aemond doesn’t bother with a reply because he’s already on his way out of the door. His pounding steps reverberate through the empty halls and the tremble of panicked breathing surrounds him. Fear nearly eats him alive as he reaches the door to your marital chambers. Never has he been terrified to open those doors to the sight of you. He had never once feared finding you dead, but now he has. Slowly but surely, Aemond pushes the giant oak open. He spots you knelt on the balcony in your nightdress, looking up at the stars. Lark lay whining at your side until she hears Aemond shuffle forward. Much to Aemond's surprise, the hefty beast that once worshiped him as you did, bared its teeth to him.

"Please.." Aemond wasn't sure if he was pleading to Lark to let him pass or to the gods for your life. Either way, the Hyena was the first to answer him. Lark moved aside slowly so that Aemond may pass, but still kept defense from a ways away.

“I-” Before a word can even escape his lips, you’re lurching forward. Aemond rushes forward and sinks to his knees to hold you. The convulsions of your stomach can be felt as he circles your waist.

“ I’m so sorry, my love, please.” The cold wash of fear grips his spine as blood and flowers paint the floor. He has no idea what to do. You’re not saying anything or doing anything to cease the onslaught of terror, yet you’re not pushing him away either. On the contrary, you’ve tangled your fingers with the hand he has over your stomach.

“ I love you. I’ll always love you.” Aemond croaks helplessly into your hair as you lean back against him. It’s too late, you had once said. It seems that the universe had agreed. Your breathing rattled to a stop and the grip of your hands weakened. “ I love you. Forever and Always. I promise.” Aemond whispered, pressing a salt-soaked kiss to your temple as he felt your heart slow. The thump that once echoed through your back onto his own heart stuttered to a stop, and with it so did Aemond’s world.

Part 2

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon angst #aemond targaryen angst #angst

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iouinotes · 5 months

Text

All for you | Carl Gallagher

pairing: Carl Gallagher x female!reader

show: Shameless

warnings: angst, fluff, smut (the reader and Carl are 18 years old in this ff)

summary: Carl is challenged that he can get your money, if he makes you fall in love with him. He loves the challenge until he loves something else more...

authors note: sorry for so many pov switched, I didnt notice it, when I first wrote this ff. Also I haven't had the chance to watch all the seasons yet, but I still hope that Carl's character is somewhat accurate :))

Carl's pov

"Frank, goddamit youre no help! Why are you even lying around here - oh forget it, I don't want to hear it." Fiona's voice echoes in the room, while the entire Gallagher household is present.

The everyday discussion has been going on for too many minutes in which I could have done something better. The damn question “How do we get enough money?”

Lip at college, Ian with his gangster boyfriend, my shitty sister with her kid and then Liam. This family is screwed. No wonder with a father like Frank.

As the argument continues to escalate, I have the misfortune of sitting right next to him.

"You care to share some money, son?" Of course, my attempts to ignore him are unsuccessful.

"The drug trade doesn't always work out so well, but the weapon thing was something. You could give one to your good old dad, you know what the neighborhood is like." I run my hands through my hair in frustration, shaking my head.

"Just get one or two girls pregnant at school, then all of our problems are solved. But she has to be rich. After all, you want to get your hard work paid." Why the hell am I still here?

"You used to be more enthusiastic about my ideas. If you don't want to do play daddy, then use your charm. When I was your age, my cock was enough and the girls were happy."

"Be fucking quiet, no one wants to hear about your pathetic youth." It's no use, he keeps talking.

"I'm only saying, If you make a rich girl fall in love with you, then you can get money to do something nice for your family."

As I get up and walk away from him I take a breath, the tension caused by this idiot sucks.

Still, his words got me thinking. Maybe there's a new girl who would be perfect for this job...

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

When I moved here, I wasn't sure what to expect. New school, maybe mean classmates and bad cafeteria food. That I might be able to join a group and make friends, people who laugh with me in class or go to the cinema together on weekends.

I was prepared to get lost in the hallways a few times, perhaps to be peppered with embarrassing questions by the teachers. I had even prepared myself for being called a nerd again and therefore spending my lunch breaks alone.

Then things turned out differently. I met two girls who, although they scared me at first with their need to gossip all the time, are good people at heart.

They studied with me (meaning they told me the newest gossip and braided my hair while I did our homework), showed me the city and its pitfalls. I felt comfortable, prepared and confident for what awaited me here.

Oh lord, was I wrong.

On a Thursday in the middle of the week I met a boy who messed everything up. Literally.

I met him when he was running through the halls twenty minutes late, but stupidly didn't pay attention to me, who was about to cross his path. Let's put it this way, it ended with my books on the floor, my jacket hanging off my shoulder, and his hair being a huge mess.

When he looked at me, I expected to hear something like "sorry" or "I'll help you."

You want to know what he said?

"Cute top. Let me know if you need help taking it off."

Then he got up casually and walked into the classroom across the hallway, a grin on his face as if he had won the Bachelor title.

After this encounter two things became very clear to me. 1. Look both ways when crossing the halls and 2. Stop daydreaming about this boy, even if he has beautiful blue eyes.

The first thing worked better than the second.

After a few descriptions, which actually only consisted of "incredibly impudent and incredibly good-looking", it was explained to me who I was dealing with.

Carl Gallagher. A boy who has lived here since he was born, someone who is rumoured to be more dangerous than the Italian Mafia.

Even though I thought that was exaggerated, I quickly realized that I should stay away from him and that he meant trouble.

Aside from the fact that I wasn't going to be in the situation of talking to him again anyway, my eyes couldn't stop themselves from looking at him.

There was something that defined him, something that made me want to watch a grin creep across his face when he made an inappropriate joke, how he would push his blonde hair back and his eyes would shine mischievously, as if he had already planned the next bank robbery.

I wasn't the only one who found his charisma attractive tho, of course not when he looked like one of God's angels, but he never really seemed interested in other girls. At least not with any serious intent, you might hear him flirting or making comments about his free bed, but you would never saw him in a relationship.

He never held hands or kissed anyone, had a real smile on his face or said sweet things, he was just Carl.

Suggestive, hot-tempered and like a flag that proclaimed: Stay away from me, because you will lose this fight.

I also felt that if I continued to watch him, I would lose the battle for platonic feelings towards him too.

"Please don't tell me you're looking at our school bad boy again. You better be careful, he might want to sell you a gun." Kenzie's voice makes me sigh.

"These are just rumors. Besides, it's not my fault, he's just -" Her hand on my shoulder interrupts me.

"We know, you have heart eyes every time you talk about him. There are so many great guys in this world, I'm not saying at this school, but you choose this one?" Her look says more than a thousand words as she looks over at Carl, who is pushing his way trough the crowd.

"I'm not in love, just curious. Those are two different things, okay?" Her eyebrows raise.

"You mean, curious how his lips would feel on yours?" Her laughter at my expression is lost in the sounds of the cafeteria.

"Very funny." I murmur to her, food forgotten on my plate. When the school bell rings, I stand up and pick up my backpack.

"My class is canceled now, but I'm going to the library. Will you meet me later?" As I walk backwards I see her thumbs up and the hearts she makes in Carl's direction. My reaction is two quick middle fingers.

As I walk out of the school building, I check my phone and tie my hair into a braid. The library is a few blocks away and the cool air makes me shiver.

When I get there and wave to the boy at the entrance, I turn to my favorite department. Call it cliche, but I love romance books. I mean, I don't know what it feels like to love someone with all my heart, but that doesn't mean I don't love reading about it.

The books I actually need are a few rows away. History, literature, everything I am assigned to get for school.

As I stroke over a few tapes and finally pull out a book to read the first few pages, I hear a noise next to me that makes me look up. After all, the library is usually a pretty quiet place.

As I look into the familiar blue eyes, I feel my cheeks turn red.

I have to stop myself from staring.

"Always a book in your hand, I see." Oh his voice hasn't changed. I try to shrug casually as I answer, but I'm not sure if it actually works.

"Aren't you going to be late for class again?" At my sarcasm he smiles, he takes a step in my direction which weakens my control over my voice.

"I thought I would learn something somewhere else too." These coded words make me swallow.

"So, you're here often?" I almost think he's not answering me, but maybe I'm just not concentrating, because I'm paying too much attention to every mole on his face.

"Actually, I didn't even know this shitty town had a library." His words make me laugh, but several requests to be quiet around us, make me whisper in response.

"Then why are you here?" I think my breathing stops as his hand brushes my fingers that are still holding the book.

"You're here." I feel my heart beating nervously faster, I probably look pretty confused and when I notice his grin, something flutters in my chest.

"No interest in books, huh?" Can my answer actually be any lamer?

"Dont worry, I have a newfound interest in you."

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I would become friends with Carl Gallagher, I would have found the idea absolutely crazy. To be honest, I still find the situation insane, but damn my cheeks still turn just as red when he's with me as they did the first time.

It turns out that he really has no interest in books, even though he visited me at the library almost every day since we met in the romance department.

I've never met anyone like him, funny and couragous without any reserve, always looking for trouble, acting self-confident. But also sweet.

He's like a current that pulls you along, like a wind that blows so hard that you fly with it. He feels like freedom and it is wonderful.

He makes me laugh, he carries my books, plays with my hair, walks home with me. In such a short time I feel like he didn't knock on the doors to my heart, instead he made a home there.

Maybe this is what it feels like to fall in love.

It's not a gentle announcement, more of a realization that makes you incredibly desperate and happy at the same time.

But with him I actually just feel happy.

"Ready, sunshine?" As soon as I come out of the classroom, he comes towards me and takes my bag from me. My heart jumps at his gesture, which feels like winning the Olympics.

"You're crazy, where do you even want to go?" He has something planned but won't tell me. When he puts his arm around my shoulder and I lean against him, I get a few sideways glances from our classmates.

Carl ignores everyone like always, it's crazy but the way he's so confident is pretty attractive to me.

"Does the guy in your cheesy books also tell you where they go on dates? I bet not, so just wait."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

"It feels like you're kidnapping me."

I feel his smile on my back and have to giggle quietly at his response.

"Mh, I plan to do that. But only for a few hours, otherwise my head will roll tomorrow. Your father takes your curfew pretty seriously."

I feel his hands on my hips, guiding me forward, hear the birds chirping around us, but can't figure out where we're going.

"Just a few more steps, baby. Then you'll see." As he promised, it is only a few meters away and when I see a small, calm lake, my mouth falls open in surprise.

"Carl, oh my God! It's wonderful here, thank you so much." I turn around in his grip and look at him, his smile reflects the love that I feel.

"Yeah? How much do you like it?" As his eyes focus on my lips, I feel a tingling feeling in my stomach. Slowly, my fingers stroke his chest and I see him swallow, even though he tries to hide it.

"I think it's incredibly beautiful here, I love it. And...I really like you." I shyly lower my gaze, my words are met with an unknown silence that makes me anxious after a few seconds. But when I look up at him again, he pushes a strand of my hair out of my face.

"To me, you are much more beautiful than this sight. I like you too and I thought that was pretty obvious." I smile broadly, butterflies fly around in my stomach and as the sun illuminates his face, I feel incredibly happy.

"You're so nice to me, I don't know how I deserve this." An expression crosses his face, but when I blink he smiles at me again.

"After all, you are the first person who explained the topics for the history exam to me, without giving up." My hand cups his cheek.

"I wouldn't give you up, you've become too important to me." As I stand on my tiptoes, our lips brush, his hand is on my back and pushes me closer to him.

"You are an angel." With his words we kiss and everything else around us blurs, only he remains. Everything is unimportant except him, standing in front of me, so handsome, that it is difficult not to look at him.

"Come on, let's go for a swim." As he pulls me towards the lake, you can hear our loud laughter in the air.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"When are you going to collect the money? You've been with her for the last three months and nothing has come of it." Frank's annoying voice frustrates me more than anything else.

"I am working on it. Besides, she's actually really caring." When I see the dismissive hand gesture in my direction, I roll my eyes.

"You are completely wrong, son. A person is there for a certain period of time, but money? Money accompanies you throughout your life, especially if you buy beautiful bottles of the best alcohol."

I sink into the sofa, but want to turn away when I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"If you put it off any longer, it will be harder to get out of the situation. Girls your age will start planning to get married, if you stay with them for months."

But when he leaves, I feel conflicted. Can I really do this to her?

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"Happy birthday!" Her voice makes me jump and, confused, I turn around on the bench to look into her excited eyes.

"Why are you jumping around like that? Are you practicing for cheerleading?" I'm making fun of her, but the smile on her face doesn't fade.

"No, idiot. I'm just really curious to see how you react to your gift." My breath catches for a moment as I take in her words.

"You got me something?" When she leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek while pressing the bag into my lap, I start to smile too.

"Open!" Her encouragement breaks me out of my trance and I quickly tear up the paper, looking at the tickets with wide eyes.

"But...these tickets cost a fortune? Did you sell your liver or something?" When I look at her, she smiles back at me.

"I talked to my dad and he agreed that you deserve something special for your birthday. Are you happy?" As I look at the cards, I suddenly feel a pang in my heart. It must be showing on my face, because her happiness is also fading away.

"Do you not like it? I thought it was your favorite team? I can get you something else." When I look at her, I quickly pull her between my legs and kiss her.

"Shh, breathe angel. It's perfect, thank you. And well, your father. It's just a lot of money." Her hands play with the fabric of my shirt.

"You always say that. Do you have problems at home, with money, I mean? I've never been to your place, I don't even know where you live." What should I say to her now?

"It's okay." Her raised eyebrows look at me reproachfully, making me sigh.

"Each of us has to contribute a certain amount of money every month and if I don't sell fucking drugs, it will be tight." Her astonished look makes me pause and I gently stroke her arms.

Before I can say anything else, she kisses me. I look at her in surprise.

"What's that for?" She smiles shyly, looks at the floor for a moment before looking at me again.

"You're just so honest, I admire that. And that you've never asked me for anything, you know. That I lend you some money."

Fuck. Shit. What do I say?

"Yeah, I mean, I don't want to burden you with that-" but she interrupts me again, her concentrated expression makes me curious.

"What's going on in your pretty head?" My hands wander over her sides.

"It's the end of the month, how much are you missing?" I frown in confusion, but when she doesn't let it go, I tell her the amount.

"$240, the rest I earned by helping in the neighborhood." But despite the high sum, she just nods, looks at me again and gives me another kiss.

"Okay, maybe I'll be your sugar mommy." I have to laugh at the absurdity, but the longer she grins at me, the more I think she means it.

"What, are you serious? Thats fucking crazy, how am I supposed to pay you back?" Her eyes look around, but since the classroom is relatively empty during recess, she finds herself between my legs again. She slowly lets her hand wander down my stomach until she squeezes my cock through my clothes and I close my eyes in delight.

"Hmm, maybe you could help me relax between classes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously and I look at her with a grin.

"Anything you want, sugar."

Let's put it this way, the next few weeks the breaks were filled with kissing in the back corner of the classroom, dry humping on the toilet or Carl doing his best to pleasure me with his tongue in the caretaker's room, like now.

"Ahh-, Carl. I'll cum if you keep that up." His head has disappeared under my skirt, his fingers are stroking the bare skin of my thigh and the sinful movements of his tongue are making me see stars.

As he adds a finger and runs it over my folds, slowly until he inserts it, he looks at me again.

"You coming for me? Yeah, be a good girl or do you want to get caught by the old janitor grandpa spreading your legs for me?" As my eyes roll back, he pumps another finger into me, scissoring it thoroughly and hitting that sweet spot inside me.

When I moan loudly, he grins.

"You like that? Just wait until I bury my cock in you and you cant walk straight afterwards, so that everyone will notice." When his finger presses my clitoris, I see white and as I come I try to muffle the sounds with my hand over my mouth.

When I get off my high, I blindly search for my panties. But Carl beats me first.

"Hmm, no. I think I'll keep it as a little souvenir. Maybe you can get it back when you come to my house later." I don't know what surprises me more: that he wants me to run around exposed at school or that I'm invited to his house for the first time.

"Really? I'd like to come." But he interprets my words differently, his fingers stroke my entrance again and I moan and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Very well and for a very long time." When the bell rings, he lets go of me and I whimper slightly.

"Carl-" but he interrupts me by pulling back and straightening my skirt.

"I'm sure our agreement was between recess, now it's class time. Come on, I'll make it up to you later."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

As we ride the bus toward his home, I take his hand and intertwine our fingers.

"But don't expect a mansion or any of that shit." Ever since we left school, he has been bad-mouthing his hometown every free minute he has.

"Don't worry, I'll only have eyes for you anyway." The statement makes him laugh and he relaxes a little. As we get out and walk a little way along the street, we are watched by a few people.

"Why are so many people staring at us?" When he look at me, I'm obviously confused.

"Not everyone here wears designer clothes that cost several thousand dollars. If you come here more often, they'll call you a princess." Giggling, I slap him on the arm and as we climb the stairs to his house, I look around curiously.

"So this is where you grew up." His shoulders shrug casually, but I see him trying to gauge my reaction.

"Yeah, where in the world could it be nicer?" I laugh at his sarcastic comment and we both smile at each other as we enter the house.

I hear him calling into the house, then a girl with red hair appears, carrying a baby.

"You must be Debbie, the little one is so adorable." When I hold out my hand, she just looks at Carl with her eyebrows still raised.

"What did you do to end up with her? Also my daughter's name is Franny and yes, I know condoms exist." Surprised, I don't know exactly how to answer, so I leave it to Carl.

"My tongue is magic, Debs. Too bad you won't find out yourself anytime soon, Derek has moved away. By the way, Franny seems hungry." I'm unsure of the dynamic between the two of them, as she turns away and walks away, I resist the urge to say goodbye.

"That was...nice." His hand pulling me towards the stairs distracts me.

"She's a real ray of sunshine, come on. The others aren't back yet, so you can be as loud as you want this time."

When we get upstairs, he leads me into his room and I look at the magazines, posters and little things scattered everywhere.

"Cleaning and you are definitely not friends, huh?" I laugh at my joke, but Carl has other plans than letting me inspect his room.

He puts his hands on my hips and pushes me against the closed door, my breath catches as his eyes find mine.

"Do you want to keep playing housemaid? Then put on a damn maid costume, otherwise keep your eyes on me." At his stern voice, I press my thighs together and, grinning, I drag my fingers across his chest once again.

"Would you like that? Me on the floor, my ass in the air, and no underwear? Oh wait, what a coincidence that I'm not wearing any now either." His eyebrows raise, I see his eyes darken with lust.

"Let's save this little fantasy for another time, right now I just want to see you on my cock." Smiling, I lean towards him and start kissing him. I loosen the belt I bought him and pull him closer to me by his waistband.

"I think I did well today. After all, I didn't complain about getting through the school day without underwear. Do I get my reward now?" Grinning, he takes off my top and looks at my lace bra.

"Everything you want." He drops to his knees in front of me and kisses his way along my thighs, lifts my skirt and presses a kiss to my folds. Slowly he moves his tongue higher and kisses my stomach, I lean my head against the door.

"Does that feel good?" I just nod, burying my hand in his hair as he puts his mouth on me again.

"Ahh- Carl, I want you now." His fingers stretch me, the wetness running down my legs, making me tremble.

"You got me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?" His head lifts to look at me and I place my fingers around his chin, seeing the moisture on his lips.

"I've been prepared enough, I want your dick now. Let's see if it's as magical as your tongue." Grinning, he stands up and lifts me up, lays me on my back on his bed and lies down between my legs.

He places a few kisses on my legs, then stretches up on his elbows so he's hovering over me. Then he kisses my cheek and my lips, lets his tongue slide over them and lets me taste myself.

I run my fingers through his blonde hair and pull his body closer to me. When he pulls a condom out of his pocket, I hold my breath.

"You still want to do this?" His look calms all the worries I had. I nod, stroking my fingers over his heated cheek.

"I trust you." His next kiss is passionate, his hands gliding over my body, caressing every bit of exposed skin. I lift my back off the mattress and let him take off my bra. His head lowers to run his tongue over my navel. As he sucks on them, I moan softly.

One of his hands starts kneading my breasts and when I try to take off my skirt, he stops me.

"Leave it on, okay?" I kiss him in response.

His hand strokes my sides and my own hands rest on his shoulders as he presses the tip of his cock against my entrance.

"Ready, baby?" When I agree, he presses himself into me and for a moment I have to squint my eyes because it hurts.

Then I feel several gentle kisses on my cheek, my forehead and my lips. His attempts to distract me work and as I become more and more relaxed, he slides further into me.

Slowly he presses his hips against me, the stretch so great that I can feel him all the way into my stomach. He waits for a moment, whispering sweet things in my ears until they get dirty and I beg him to move.

My hands wrap around his shoulders as he thrusts into me for the first time, the air around us thickening as he grunts and a moan escapes me.

"You're doing so well, God, you feel so good." His hips move faster and faster, the pleasure spreads through my body and the wetter I feel, the easier he slides in and out of me.

"You are perfect, my perfect girl. Do you feel good?" His hands stroke my skin, gently pinching my nipples, playing with them and making me squirm beneath him.

As he grips my hips and pushes himself harder into me, my head starts to spin. My noises get louder.

"Carl- god, please go harder" And so he does, the room is filled with the sounds of our bodies and sweat forms on us.

"Baby, do you want to ride me? You have such pretty thighs." I nod and when he pulls out of me I can't think clearly, I just want him to fill me up again.

He leans back and as I stabilize myself on his shoulders, I sink back onto him. The feeling is even better that my eyes roll back. His hands grasp my hips, helping me move.

"That's right, baby. You're doing so good, riding my cock like the good girl you are." At his words, I tighten my grip on him and he curses as I move harder on top of him.

The faster I go, the more exhausting it becomes, but as I feel a knot forming in my stomach, I ride him so fast just to chase my pleasure.

Then suddenly as he hits my spot inside me over and over again, I go boneless on him and melt in his arms. My come drips all over him and as he continues to fuck me, reaching his own climax, I tremble in his grip.

"Just a few more thrusts, baby. Ah, keep holding on to me." Even though I have lost my strength, I move on him a few more times until he comes and I lay my head on his shoulder.

We're both breathing heavily, but everything feels so good, so warm and comfortable, that I don't want to move a single muscle anymore.

He carefully pulls out of me, I moan slightly at the loss. He gently lays me back on his pillow and gives me a kiss before throwing the condom away.

He pulls the blanket over us and puts his arm around me to pull me closer. I snuggle up to him and feel so safe that I quickly press my lips to his skin.

"That was wonderful." He also presses a kiss on my hair.

"That was incredible, you are the best. I can't wait to do it again." Our embrace becomes tighter. For a moment the room is silent.

When I whisper his name, he hums in response.

"I know it's cliche to say something like that after the first time. But I just feel it so much that it hurts to keep it to myself. I love you." As I lie on his chest I hear his heart stop for a moment and then it starts beating much faster.

"I- no one has ever said that to me before." When I raise my head and look at him, he doesn't look at me. Instead, his eyes are fouced on the ceiling.

"I just want you to know. I don't want to put any pressure on you to say it. I just thought you should hear it. You know, now that things are serious between us." Again he is silent and I start to worry, but then he looks at me.

"You are truly the most incredible person I have ever met. I consider myself very lucky." He smiles at me, then leans down and we kiss for a moment. It feels like heaven.

We lay there for a few minutes, just cuddling and telling each other how our day was. We laugh and as the sun slowly sets, I start to get dressed.

"I wish I could stay here with you. But you know what my parents are like." He leans back on his elbow, watching me get dressed and contact my parents to pick me up.

"Hmm, I think we would do it again. If you stayed here tonight, I mean." I smile at him, sit down on his bed for a moment and ruffle his hair.

"I wouldn't mind, darling." The nickname makes him blush and when he leans forward to kiss me, I playfully push him away.

"I have to go, are you coming down with me?" He nods, feigning annoyance, and as we walk out of his room, he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me towards him.

He steals his kiss there, but more than that he steals my heart.

We smile at each other and for this moment everything is just perfect. We go downstairs and just as we are back in the living room we hear a door open loudly.

A visibly drunk man stumbles in. I see Carl tense up next to me, staring at the stranger angrily. I quietly lean towards him to whisper my question.

"Who is that?" When he rolls his eyes, I get a bad feeling.

"That's my father, great isn't it?" The man in front of me is dirty, has unkempt hair and an unpleasant smile on his face.

"Should I ask my parents if you can stay overnight?" My gaze is more focused on the man than on Carl.

But he just shakes his head, and just as he is about to answer, the man sees us too.

"Oh, my son! It's so good to see you, not really, but I'll take your bed. Fiona has mine. Is that your little girlfriend? She looks expensive, very good catch. How much money did you rip her off? I hope it's worth it to go through all this drama." I frown in confusion, but when Carl freezes next to me, I become uncertain.

"What does he mean by that?" This time my gaze is directed solely at Carl.

"Nothing, he's drunk-" but before he can finish, the man does.

"How rude of me, I am Frank. The proud father of this child, at least one of my descendants has made something of himself and used his talent. He has my good genes, the good looks and I teach him the tricks. Like exploiting an innocent, very very rich girl for money. It doesn't bother you, I hope? You seem to have enough, but I hope my son returns the favor to you."

The words catch me so off guard that I can't move. I don't believe anything this man says until I see the guilty look on Carl's face.

"W-what? That's a lie, right? Tell me he's lying, Carl." As he runs his hands through his hair and tries to answer me, Frank speaks again.

"Oh, you haven't confessed to her yet? My fault, I should have waited. I didn't think you would humiliate this girl for so long. I told you this wouldn't end well." But Carl ignores him completely when he notices me moving away from him.

"Wait, I'm sorry. It wasn't like that-" But I interrupt him, already feeling tears gathering in my eyes.

"So what happened? You act like you don't want any money from me and-" Carl's look becomes frustrated.

"You offered me your money! You said if I matched it, everything would be fine for you." I'm almost speechless, is this all a nightmare?

"Are you serious? I offered it to you because you weren't asking for it. And now I find out it was your plan from the beginning? You just talked to me, just spent time with me to get my money? Who does that?" Frank's voice intervenes.

"I invented the strategy, my dear. It's turning out to be quite useful." But I don't pay attention to him, I just look at Carl.

"Please, I'm sorry. Yes, it was meant that way in the beginning, but it's different now. I-" My tears flow when he admits it and any feeling of happiness disappears. All that remains is betrayal and sadness.

"You what? What am I saying, you were probably happy that I only wanted you in return. I'm such an idiot. You didn't just take my money, you took my first time too!" As he comes towards me, I step back.

"Listen to me, I didnt force you to do all this for me. You wanted it." The more he talks the more desperate I feel and the greater my anger becomes.

"You idiot! I thought you liked me! I thought you finally noticed me too." My sobs get louder and my vision blurs. When he tries to grab my face, I slap him.

"My cue to go. I can see that you're sorting it out between yourselves just fine." Frank's footsteps fading away are nothing compared to the sound of my heart breaking.

"I like you, I really like you. At first it wasn't my intention to start a relationship with you, but then I got to know you and-" Every word that escapes him is only worse.

"Stop talking! You know what the worst thing is that I liked you for so long before you even talked to me. And I thought it was a miracle when you first spoke to me in the libary. I should have listened to the others, you only care about yourself!" I wipe the tears from my cheeks, wishing I could be anywhere but here.

Then before he can say anything, I turn around and run out of the house. But I hear him following me.

"Wait! Don't just walk away, I have to get this straight. Hey!" He catches me, turns me around and holds my tear-stained face in his hands.

"I'm an idiot, I know that. I'm sorry for hurting you. I- God, I love you. You hear me? I love you too. Please stay." But I just shake my head and try to free myself from his grip.

"How do I know if that isn't a lie too? You've betrayed me, I can't talk to you now." When my car pulls up, I get in without turning around. I don't look back, even though his loud curse can be heard throughout the whole neighborhood.

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

I spend the next few days without saying much, but I cried almost the whole time.

I miss him incredibly, not a day has gone by in the last few months when I haven't seen him and now I've been alone for three days.

I wish he was here, but on the other hand I am so hurt and feel terrible. He is the reason for this.

I wish I had never found out. I wish he had never done it, never lied to me. Didn't use me for money, but worst of all, I don't know if he even likes me.

Today is the first day that I go back to school. Even though I put on make-up, choose a nice outfit and listen to my favorite songs to distract myself, I can only think of him.

His blonde hair, his beautiful eyes, the way his lips felt. How he felt inside me. Then I remember that he loves me and how he finally said it, something I have wanted to hear for so long.

But then I think about what he did and everything feels empty again.

As I enter the school, my friends come to meet me. They already know what happened, they all hug me and I feel a little better.

Until I see him.

And he sees me too. It takes all my effort to avert my gaze. To get my books out of my cupboard, but then I have to stop because he is not standing next to me offering to carry them.

I take it myself, close my door, but before I can go any further, he is standing in front of me. My heart stops. Oh, how his eyes shine.

"Do you need help?" His eyes focus on the books and I have to swallow several times before I can answer.

"No, I have to go to class now." But as I try to walk past him, he stops me.

"You don't answer my texts, you don't call me back. I'm not allowed into your house and you avoid me at school. What can I do? Please tell me what I need to do, so you forgive me." I laugh, but it is without humor.

"What can you do? Move."

I can see his shock, but he still doesn't step aside.

"Can't you hear me? I said-" but he walks toward me until I'm forced to lean my back against the lockers.

His eyes find mine.

"I can't sleep. And when I do, I dream of you. There's a - a hole in my heart that only you can fill. It hurts and I hate not being with you. It's even worse to be here, when you don't look at me the way you usually do. You don't smile at me, God, you don't look like you're in love with me anymore. It's hell."

Tears gather in my eyes, his words are so desperate, it hurts to see him like this.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you took advantage of me. Before you slept with me." A tear runs down my cheek and I know my mascara is smudging.

"I know, I know. And I feel so bad, I'll do anything to make it right. Just tell me."

When I look into his eyes, my heart also hurts.

"Move, Carl. I can't see you now." This time he lets go of me and I go to class with tears in my eyes.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

It's been four weeks since we last spoke, but it doesn't hurt any less to see him. Even if I don't let him talk to me, he doesn't give up.

He puts flowers in my locker, chocolate, and notes full of apologies and sweet promises.

Everything warms my heart, but it still feels like this money thing is unresolved between us. I know now that he likes me, very much in fact, as he makes it clear, but that doesn't change the real problem.

That he used me for my money.

As I leave school that day, I feel exhausted and, as I often do, I wish I had his arms around me.

Holding me tight, his lips kissing me, loving me.

As I wait for my father's car, I suddenly hear his familiar throat clearing. With my heart pounding, I turn around and see him smiling uncertainly at me.

"I know what I had to do and now I've done it. Here." He gives me an envelope and I take it uncertainly.

"Carl, your letters are flattering, but-" He quickly interrupts me.

"No, it's something else. Open it." The deja vu hits me unexpectedly and I slowly open the envelope, the content leaves me speechless.

"What is that supposed to be?" It's rhetorical, but I ask anyway.

"All the money I owe you. What you've kindly given me, I pay it back. Every cent. You can count." He looks so proud, I almost have to laugh.

"How- did you rob a bank?" He grins contentedly at my reaction.

"An old grandma." This time I laugh and he comes closer to me, slowly taking my hands.

"No, seriously. How did you do that?" He looks at me lovingly.

"Working in the kitchen every day after school, I found a part-time job with Fiona. The payment is bad, but it was worth it. I understand that money was the problem and well, that I wasn't honest to you." As I lower the envelope, we look at each other.

"Promise, no more secrets?"

He smiles and suddenly the world is a brighter place.

"Promise, but we continue one of our agreements." I raise my eyebrows questioningly, seeing him grin as he leans toward me, his breath brushing against my lips and he whispers:

"I'll still spend my breaks with you in the janitor's room."

The laughter that escapes me gets interrupted, when his lips meet mine.

#carl gallagher #shameless #x reader #love #smut #betrayal #love confessions #angst with a happy ending #angst

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jealousmartini · 1 month

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💌 She's an overachiever. "Pressure"? What pressure? ⋆₊˚⊹🔖

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

My second year of college is coming in hot guys. And I'm talking the 3rd of September, in TWO WEEKS TIME HOT.

But you already know your girl has BEEN locked in with her subliminals for the next term, cus I've had a whole thing going on since my first term to my second yk. so come a little closer so I can show yall what my game is on

p.s.a!! I am an animation and games art student, so most to all of my work is research and art based. And when I say most of my work is research based, I mean there is an ungodly amount of writing that is expected from the students and it's not even just the amount it's WHAT you write about that gets you the grade and how well your art conveys your ideas.

Also "Ex." = Example

╰┈➤ " My average college day experience as an art student/loass babe " click here!

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

"What? Like it's hard?" At the top of her class, always ontop of her work, never slacking off, always locking in.

── .✦ ┆ 𖤐 ┆ ␥

|| Perfect focus, super attentive, always pays attention and makes notes. I am never afraid to ask for help or advice and I always receive the answers I need to understand the work; no room for confusion here.

|| Very strong, clear memory, perfect photographic memory.

|| Studies so much, it's my hobby, never underestimates myself or downplays my work, has always prioritised my work and has always understood the importance of doing work at home. Studying has never been a struggle for me because I don't struggle with discipline. I actually find so much fun and enjoyment doing homework. I always feel so productive and proud of myself whilst managing my time and looking at the amount I have done afterwards. Especially with the amount of validation and points I earn from teachers. It is always so satisfying seeing my high grades after a complete project. It's like a treat.

|| Creative genius, always brainstorms with words or loose sketches; not a single idea goes to waste. Research enthusiast, I could never shy away from making a thorough, detailed, and well planned out analysis, moodboard or mindmap. And multiple of them at that. I always know EXACTLY what to write and never wastes precious time and space yapping.

|| The life of an art student is exciting, fulfilling, flourishing, inspiring and strict. In the healthy way of course. My parents and teachers are always understanding of my burnouts and art block which are very rare thank god; and it's a good thing I have my closest friends to comfort me through my work. They are always so supportive, encouraging and honest with me as I am with them. We always travel together to the college (when I don't feel like being alone) and we always travel back home together. I mean we are our own personal friend circle so of course we buy snacks for each other and meet up for lunch; it's not even like we need to worry about price since we have more than enough on us. College is 100 times better when my best friends are with me, everything feels so comfortable with them

|| Perfect, cunty, and ideal artstyles. Always chooses the ones most appropriate for a certain design, and never forgets how to convey a certain look. I know, understand and draw human, animal, vehicle, clothing anatomy and terminology, enviromental composition, colour theory and terminology, the 12 principles of animation, the 7 fundamentals of art (Line, pattern, colour, texture, tone, shape and form), and the fundamentals of character design like the back of my hand

|| I know how to layout a design page appropriately, I always know how to theme and colour co-ordinate. Written placement and art placement are always perfect to the T and nothing looks off. All together, I show off my own unique style of work and impress my teachers of classmates

Ex. Subliminals in my art student playlist

"Over achiever", "Desired art skills", "Desired (college) life"

«───────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────»

"Ugh she is always doing the most with her work😒-" And she always looks good doing it. She's got the looks and the discipline; she's got it all

── .✦ ┆ 𖤐 ┆ ␥

|| Gorgeous, curly, and ideal (3B to 3C) hair. My hair never gets greasy, dry, breakage, damage, frizz, dandruff, or split ends. My curls are always moisturised, soft, bouncy, and defined. I never experience a bad hair day, and my hair is super easy to manage. Detangling my hair is a breeze, and styling my hair is even easier; every style looks exactly the way I want it and never loses the volume or shape throughout the day.

|| Ideal, fit, slim thick pear. Short shoulders, small ribcage, medium-sized chest, 20 inch waist, wide hips and slight dip, long legs, fat ass but not too fat, chubby but fit thighs, slimmer defined calves and small feet. The perfect pear. And every outfit looks exactly the way I want; I never look awkward but I always look put together and stylish.

|| Craziest face card. Ms. Face economy infact. I have a round heart shaped face with dark brown bambi eyes and long fluttery lashes, a medium straight nose bridge, plump pink "keyhole" lips, and the clearest, softest brown skin ever... Yet I still put make up on- yes I do because it's fun and I like it, so it's always awesome knowing I can do my make up flawlessly and nail my looks perfectly

Ex. Subliminals in my ideal appearance playlist

"3C hair type", "Pear body", "Desired face", "brown caramel skin"

∘₊ ✧───────────────────✧₊∘

I'll probably add smore later :3 k bye

#martini yaps!#shiftblr #loa blog #loablr #desired reality #master manifestor #law of assumption #4d reality #desired self #desired appearance #desired life #desired body #dream life #shifters #shifting #loa

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signalburst · 5 months

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Shōgun Historical Shallow-Dive: Part 1

Does everybody else's heart hurt? Good! Let's get learning. These characters and the people that inspired them all deserve their own post, but here's a quick one if you're wondering what happened. This is a shallow-dive because the history is extremely complicated, and a condensed version of just the events leading up to Sekigahara (the battle depicted in the finale) take up entire volumes of history. I'll do my best to answer questions about what happened to our three protagonists, in the show, as well as real life 🙇

One note: given I'm not a professional historian, I've got no obligation to not have biases and favourites. I've tried to keep most of them out of this, but if you want to punish yourself by trying to keep track of who's who in the Azuchi-Momoyama period, this book is the best English-language overview.

What happened to Toranaga (Tokugawa Ieyasu)?

Gif: @yocalio

I am not as strong as I might be, but I have long known and practiced patience. And if my descendants wish to be as I am, they must study patience. - from The Legacy of Ieyasu Tokugawa

In the book, Toranaga reveals that it had been his aspiration to be Shōgun from the very beginning. That was what drove his alliance with the Taiko, that was what drove his feigned alliance with the Heir.

History follows a very similar path. I re-read some chapters on the battle of Sekigahara last night, and there is no easy way to explain it, but: the result of Sekigahara (an enormous, two-day battle with 200,000 samurai and ashigaru warriors in the field) was an enormous victory for Tokugawa, Toranaga's real-life counterpart.

Years - sometimes decades - of scheming by Tokugawa had made Ishido/Ishida's Western Alliance completely fragmented. In the months leading up to the period displayed in the show, Toranaga was calling in a lifetime of marriage alliances, diplomatic advantage, defensive pacts and childhood friends who'd risen to high status. Re-reading the sources, the names of all the lords of all the important fiefs and castles makes my head spin, let alone the ones that turned out to be pivotal to Toranga/Tokugawa's victory. But it was a resounding victory, and by both the numbers and the disposition of forces, he should have lost.

Historians have a consensus that if the 'Western forces' of the Heir had have fought together with a unified command structure, they would have won, easily. But they didn't - orders from Ishido/Ishida were ignored, Toranaga/Tokugawa endured onslaughts, and the Regents' opposing armies eventually fractured and melted away. This was a last-of-an-era battle. Families were fighting on either side, every single unit that could be brought to bear was on the field. It is no exaggeration to say Sekigahara is one of the few, unambiguous battles upon which the beginning of a historical era came down to.

Toranaga/Tokugawa triumphed because he spent decades building unity of purpose and strong alliances, simultaneously sowing division amongst the Regents, who ultimately balked at being commanded by a bureaucrat like Ishido/Ishida. Whilst there was no one decisive moment of an extremely bloody, rainy, two-day battle, the fact that Ishido/Ishida's forces refused to be told what to do by someone of lower status was the main theme of their defeat. A crucial army stationed on the hill stayed still, refusing to commit to either side, until Toranaga/Tokugawa fired muskets into their ranks. They made up their mind, and attacked Ishido/Ishida's Western army. Ishido/Ishida's one trick of firing a flare to commit the reserve army didn't work. The commander ignored it. Instead of being there to fight for something, Ishido/Ishida's coalition was there to oppose someone. They all had different reasons. And ultimately, the man that brought them together didn't command enough respect to command a battle.

As our show Toranaga said, the Regents fell upon each other. He might have been a bit optimistic about how and why this would happen (they fell over each other in retreat, and it took two days of horrific combat), but it happened. Tokugawa Ieyasu was famous for richly rewarding former enemies, and most of those he defeated kept their heads. This reputation is a strong incentive for leaving the field when things start going Tokugawa's way.

The two exceptions were Ishido/Ishida, and Kiyama/Konishi, both beheaded in Osaka (Ishido, bizarrely, was upbeat about his fate, until seconds before the sword came down). Killing Ishida was the obvious move, as the man schemed and bitched so much he caused a civil war. Killing Konishi was more calculated - it opened up his trade-hub in Kyushu to being ruled by a fervent Buddhist daimyo and ally of Tokugawa.

Toranaga/Tokugawa forces soon captured Osaka Castle after the battle of Sekigahara, and with it, the Heir.

Toranaga/Tokugawa 'reluctantly' accepted the Imperial appointment of Shōgun three years later, in 1603. In 1605, he abidcated, passing the title to his most malleable and competent son, Hidetada. He was the real power behind the throne and ruled until his death in 1616.

The year before he died, he was able to fully secure his legacy. The Heir (in real life, Toyotomi Hideyori) had begun to gather daimyo to Osaka castle who were opposed to Tokugawa. Tokugawa used the flimsiest of pretexts - the opening of a shrine - to order the Heir out of the castle. He refused, Tokugawa forces besieged the castle - twice. The first one was called off because cannon fire nearly killed Ochiba no kata, and she pushed her son to sue for peace. By the second siege, there would be no peace: the Tokugawa forces defeated all oppoosition, and secured the legacy.

Toranaga/Tokugawa's descendants would rule for 250 years of internal peace and external lock-down of the country from barbarians (and Christians), except for limited trade.

The big question: did Toranaga/Tokugawa really want to be Shōgun from the start? History tells us, rather unambiguously, yes - before the campaign, he was writing his 100 Articles for ruling Japan, which would be instrumental for his family holding on to power and preventing internal strife. His plan may well have gone back to his formative, teenage years. At the very least, it is highly likely it was solidified when Toranaga/Tokugawa was a vassal of the Dictator Koroda/Oda Nobunaga - the man Mariko/Hosokawa Gracia's father assassinated, who was brutal even by the standards of the day. We don't have time for him, the Taiko, and Mariko's father today - but my opinion is that the motherfucker firmly deserved to be assassinated, and the only amazing thing is that the inspiration for Mariko's father was able to hold off for so long.

But that killing set off a chain of events that would lead to Toranaga/Tokugawa becoming sole ruler of a unified Japan. So much of history is contingent on individual actors and random events. It didn't have to happen. It was extremely unlikely. But, through patience (and by my reckoning, a lot of luck), he made the world he wanted to see. Whether that was worth the price in lives is for the reader to decide.

But by all accounts, Toranaga/Tokugawa died very satisfied in the knowledge that his legacy was secure, his realm was unified, and, finally, at peace.

What happened to Mariko (Hosokowa Gracia)?

Gif: @yocalio

As is probably obvious, Mariko's purpose was fulfilled before the conclusion of the show. As is also probably obvious, her historical counterpart - Hosokowa Gracia - did not have an affair with an English sea pilot (😢). She did, however, change Japanese history, and tipped the balance of noble support towards Toranaga/Tokugawa. Her death had meaning.

The framing of her marriage to Buntaro and exile after her father's successful assassination of a brutal dictator is almost exactly correct. She was one of the most desirable, valued and accomplished young noblewomen of the day. The stain of the name Akechi would haunt her for the rest of her life. Real life Buntaro, Hosokowa Tadaoki, genuinely sent her away for two years to save her life. The Hosokowa family even went so far as to pretend that she had died, to save her from the Taiko's vengeance. Whilst her marriage was an unhappy one (though not, as far as is known, abusive), she was beloved by the head of the Hosokowa clan, the show's Hiromatsu. They went to extraordinary lengths to keep her safe.

Her main comfort in her life was her faith. It's perhaps here that we get the strongest through-line from Hosokowa Gracia to Mariko - unafraid, intelligent, and fierce.

She first came to learn about Christianity from her Christian maid, who extolled the virtue of the faith, and the opportunities for intellectual stimulation theological discussion could bring. In 1587 (five years after her father assassinated the dictator, three years after she returned from exile), she decided to take action on it. She snuck out of Osaka Castle and visited the main church in Osaka - she had lively conversations with the elderly Father-Visitor, and was an excellent pupil of both Portuguese and Latin theological texts. I don't know if you guys have ever tried to read those things, but even in translation, they are torturous. This woman was extremely intelligent.

As a noble woman of the Taiko's court, she knew he was about to issue an edict outlawing Christianity. Being the (excuse the language) absolute fucking badass that she was, she had her maid (baptismal name Maria) baptise her before the edict was issued, transforming from Hosokowa Tama to Hosokowa Gracia. Even though she had to keep her faith a secret due to the Taiko's edict, she found a way to hold on to it. She had a special sake cup made with the Hosokowa mon emblazed on the lip, which, on very close inspection, was actually a Christian cross.

During this time of her religious conversion and education, a primary source from a Jesuit priest says that 'I have never disputed with a woman of such clear judgement, and such definite knowledge.' She was known for being fiercely intelligent, and this is commented on in many European letters and journals that have remained from the Catholic church's time in Japan.

Her relationship with her husband - like Buntaro, a senior retainer of Toranaga/Tokugawa - was frosty. They never reconciled after her father's (Akechi Mitsuhide) rebellion, but her husband did recall her from exile when it was safe to do so, and she lived to serve a very similar purpose to Mariko in the book and show. By virtue of not being an interpreter, she was less close to Toranaga/Tokugawa than in the book and show, but she was still dedicated to her clan and her clan's overlord, as will become clear.

Just as in the show, Hosokowa Gracia agonized at the thought of seppuku putting her soul in mortal danger. But she perceived her duty to be to ensure death before being captured or otherwise dishonoured.

To put it bluntly, Ishido (Ishida in real life) fucked up. Before any military manouvers had begun, he went to seize hostages of friends and enemies alike throughout Osaka castle. His forces tried to forcibly seize Hosokowa Gracia from the family quarters. She gave orders for her senior retainer to kill her, her daughter, and set fire to their section of Osaka Castle, so that none could be taken and subjected to dishonour. She arranged with this samurai to stand on one side of a shoji screen, facing him. He stabbed her through the heart with a naginata. She died, satisfied in the knowledge that:

...the death was not suicide, and her soul would doubtless be spared from the torments of Hell.

Although not doing this directly on the orders of Toranaga/Tokugawa, it's highly likely she knew that she was making a statement (many of the other hostages went quietly). This furthered his cause immensely. Inspired by Hosokowa Gracia, families streamed out of Osaka Castle and other Regent-held castles by any method they could. Her example ignited a firestorm of controversy surrounding the gall of a jumped-up bureaucrat (a reputation Ishido/Ishida would never escape) forcing the death of one of the era's pre-eminent noblewomen. Although her husband was relatively unbothered by her death, her father-in-law - the book/show's Hiromatsu - was furious. Because of Hosokowa Gracia and his granddaughter's death, he immediately fortified his border castle.

He defied a large [Ishido/Ishida] army of 15,000 men with only 500 men of his own.

Many of [Ishido/Ishida's] commanders held [Hosokowa Fujitaka/Hiromatsu] in such high regard that they went through the bare motions of laying siege. On a regular basis, gunners 'accidentally' forgot to load their cannon with iron shot, and so Tanabe Castle's walls reverberated daily to the harmless booming of blank gundpowder explosions. [Ishido/Ishida's] military offensive had launched to a disastrous start.

The siege only ended because of an imperial decree (it's a long story - Fujitaka/Hiromatsu knew an oral tradition special imperial poem that risked dying with him, nobody could refuse the Emperor). More than this, any chance Ishido/Ishida had of convincing skilled and respected generals to commit to his side ended with Fujitaka/Hiromatsu's defiance. Such was the respect that he commanded, and such was the rage he felt at the death of his daughter-in-law, that he worked tirelessly to gather support for Toranaga/Tokugawa, despite his advanced years.

Mariko/Hosokowa Gracia's contribution was an inflection point to what many samurai, busho and daimyo were suspecting - that Ishido/Ishida was a snake bitch who couldn't be trusted (I believe that's the correct historical term). Her actions galvanized resistance against him, and continued to spread the wildfire that would seal his defeat on the battlefield of Sekigahara: 'Why are we taking orders from him?'

Importantly, Hosokowa Gracia's remains were gathered by a Catholic priest, and given a Christian burial in Osaka. From everything we know of her, this would have been very meaningful indeed. Just as with Mariko in the show's depiction, Hosokowa Gracia's death was not senseless or without meaning. It meant something, and continues to resonate through the centuries.

What happened to John Blackthorne (William Adams)?

Gif by @cinematic-gif-archive

The short answer: imagine an alien landed in America. It was smart enough to avoid death. It ended up chief special advisor to Obama, and they became bros. That is William Adams's life.

First things first: Blackthorne stays in Japan. 'Old Rich Blackthorne' scenes are basically fever dreams. I was worried when the episode opened with a flash-forward to an old man living in Tudor comfort. This would be a huge change from both the book, and history. The novel ends with Toranaga confirming that his plan is for Blackthorne to never leave Japan. Blackthorne finds his place there. In history, the same is true of William Adams.

In episode 10, the 'is this a flash-forward?/is this a dream?' question is answered halfway through the episode. Blackthorne drops Mariko's cross over the side with Fuji's family ashes. As soon as that's done, the aged visions of Blackthorne disappear.

For those who are more textual than visual: the episode is titled A Dream of a Dream (a play on the title of the Taiko's death poem). Concussed, grief-stricken Blackthorne is dreaming of the dream he used to have - returning to England with riches and glory, his family name secure, with every comfort Queen Elizabeth the First can offer a pirate-explorer like Sir Francis Drake or Sir Walter Raleigh. But as soon as he lets go of Mariko's cross into the water (earlier, actually, when he sincerely attempted seppuku to try and save the people of Ajiro) that dream stopped appearing. The dream he had of exploiting Japan for riches and glory was gone, replaced with the reality of the life he is left to build.

In the show and the book, Toranaga is explicit about never letting Anjin-sama/Blackthorne leave Japan. If he builds new ships, Toranaga will burn them again. He needs Blackthorne's knowledge, expertise, and - in a bizarre twist of fate - friendship. We leave him hauling his wreck from the harbour, ready to salvage the keel and spars, to build a new ship in Japan.

So how does this marry up with history? Extremely accurately. As far as we know, the historical William Adams was slightly less of a pirate/privateer than the book/show's John Blackthorne. His hatred of Catholicism was more driven by their fervent desire to kill him, which they kept up for nearly a decade. His interest in exploration, in the show and in the historical, was genuine.

The show's story very closely follows what actually happened in real life (again, sans romance... although he does have love in his life, which we'll get to). His crew were initially imprisoned, he was summoned by Toranaga/Tokugawa, and met with him many times to discuss his knowledge of the outside world, trade, and Christianity's impact in Asia. The Jesuits did pester the Council of Regents, and Toranaga/Tokugawa in particular, to execute him. Toranaga/Tokugawa refused, saying this barbarian had done nothing to harm Japan or its people. The Jesuits would not forget this.

He did train elements of Toranaga/Tokogawa's army in how to work the cannon his ship possessed - a skill he possessed, but no one else was willing to offer. He actually followed Toranaga/Tokugawa to several battles. Recent primary source evidence has revealed it was highly likely he was actually at the Battle of Sekigahara, which is a very recent development in the historiography of his life. It is just bananas insane, but it demonstrates just how useful (and likeable) Blackthorne/Adams was to Toranaga/Tokugawa.

I've read two biographies of William Adams, and he was very, very like the Blackthorne portrayed by Cosmo Jarvis. Other Europeans in Japan complained that he was arrogant and dismissive - historians see this as Adams adapting to his station in Japanese society, and being extremely frustrated with European manners and bearing in Japan.

Once Toranaga/Tokugawa became shōgun, Adams - already a samurai - was made hatamoto, and forbidden from leaving Japan. He was granted many generous cuckoos (250 of them!), an estate in Edo, a fief at the entrance to Edo bay, and rose to become Toranaga/Tokugawa's chief trade advisor. During Toranaga/Tokugawa's remaining life, he built two Western-style ships (which Tokugawa came aboard and was very pleased with - that's nice!), and took over piloting duties of Portuguese and Spanish ships making landfall in Edo, pissing off the Catholics to no end.

On Ieyasu Tokugawa's death in 1616, his holdings and fief were confirmed by the new shōgun, Ieyasu Hidetada. But his relationship with the court wouldn't be the same. My reading of the sources leads me to believe that James Clavell was right here: Toranaga/Tokugawa Ieyasu genuinely liked Blackthorne/William Adams, and wanted him around.

As more and more Europeans arrived in Japan, including the English and the Dutch, Adams served as translator for them, and - for the Enlgish - fixer whenever they did something barbaric and rude that would warrant execution. He seemed to view spending time with the (no joke) drunken, whoring, disgusting-smelling English trading factory members as an extreme annoyance. He seemed happiest at sea, and at his mansion in Edo, where he married the daughter of a merchant in 1613. Whilst her name is lost to the historical record, they had two children, Joseph and Susanna.

He wasn't a deadbeat dad - he wrote to his wife back in England, explaining that he could not return. She was a firebrand, and eventually extracted a form of life insurance from the Dutch company that had contracted Adams's piloting services. Partly she was able to do this because of a proclamation issued by Toranaga/Ieyasu Tokugawa: 'William Adams was dead the day he was made samurai, and Miura Anjin - the pilot of the fief of Miura - was born.' That sounds like a badass quote I've made up, but that's one of the English translations of Tokugawa's proclamation.

Adams kept up his maritime adventures, charting the Japanese coast, going on several trading missions to Southeast Asia (sailing to Thailand and meeting with the King of Siam, furthering his amazing ability to charm and dazzle). He struck up firm friendships with members of Tokugawa's court, fellow Japanese merchants in Edo, and the much more polite Dutch traders, despite the tensions that had grown between their two countries.

There's an important aspect of his legacy that endured for centuries. Toranaga/Tokugawa, suspicious of what he had learned of Catholic conversion and invasion of other Asian states, was already disposed to be wary of the Church. The Church in Japan would not let Adams rest, attempting to kill him, convert him, bribe him, and offer him passage home in 1614 on a Portuguese ship. In the same year Portuguese priests claimed that only Spanish miners had the skills to open up the mineral wealth of Japan. Adams warned the shōgun, again, that this was the Catholic way - first the priests, then the conquistadores.

Influenced by these reports and counsel, and because the Jesuits legitimately were conspiring to do the shit Adams accused them of (always a tough charge to defend), Toranaga/Tokugawa Ieyasu expelled all Portuguese priests in 1614, and demanded all Japanese Christians recant. Apart from this leading to the Dutch being the only nation allowed to conduct trade with Japan, this was the end of Japanese Christianity, until the country was forced open in 1855. Christianity never took root in the same way it would in places like Brazil and the Philippines. Was William Adams the only factor in this development? No. Was he a factor? Yes.

He died in 1620, after twenty contented years in Japan and Asia. His will stipulated that his estates and belongings be split evenly between his family in England and Japan. One of Adams's colleagues recorded that Ieyasu Hidetada transferred lordship of Adams's fief to his Japanese son, Joseph, as well as his katana and wakizashi. His line fell out of the historical record, but memory of and monuments to the Anjin remain in Japan.

Faring Well

Shōgun, the book, was fiction, written by a man fascinated by Japanese history, driven by a desire to bring it to the world. He was overwhelmingly successful. It was an excellent start, and even fired up some fascinating academic discussion at the time that I'd definitely recommend. The 2024 adaptation, in my view, changes many of the elements that have aged poorly, were flat-out wrong to begin with, and - like all great adaptations - adds to the work, rather than cheapening it.

Despite being based on real people, the fictional characters created for the show - Blackthorne, Toranga, and especially Mariko - feel real. That is an amazing achievement.

I hope this opens up an interest in Japanese history for some viewers. Being able to visit the places where these events took place is a truly awesome experience. Like all history, it's for individuals to judge what they think of the players.

Hiroyuki Sanada said that he admires Tokugawa Ieyasu because of his ability to bring forth 250 years of peace out of nearly 500 years of chaos. Was Ieyasu motivated by altruism, or self-interest? Does it even matter?

Anna Sawai saw in Hosokowa Gracia a moving, powerful woman, deeply committed to her faith, and to doing what she believed was right in the context of her time. As a person without faith myself, I found this portrayal of genuine belief extremely moving. The demonstration of her convictions was one of the most amazing performances I've ever seen.

And as for the English pilot, Cosmo Jarvis said he wanted to capture the restlessness of Adams, his slow transformation and growth, and the unique qualities that allowed the man to survive and thrive in an extremely deadly time. One thing he nailed that I think even James Clavell messed up was how deepy strange William Adams was. Not weird, not insane, but just a very singular individual. Biographers talk about his aloof, detached, self-aware nature being misconstrued as arrogance by Europeans who encountered him in Japan. Part of it was his annoyance at their inability to learn how to be in Japan; part of it was that he was simply built very differently. In embodying this, I think Cosmo Jarvis succeeded amazingly.

From what we can find in the historical record, William Adams and Hosokowa Gracia may not be 'great' in the sense that Tokugawa Ieyasu was 'great'. They did not build an era. To borrow a phrase from one of my favourite historical writers, whilst they may not be 'great' people, they were good people. That is vanishingly rare in the history we celebrate, and I think, for that reason alone, it's important to remember them, and the things they lived and died for.

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wellofdean · 6 months

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OK, I was going to reblog this excellent post by @luckshiptoshore so go read it, because yes. Yes!! YES!!! But then when I got started my post got super long and I felt bad tacking it onto her post and decided to make my own in response to these tags:

#i am actually a bit obsessed by the whole hunting as queerness metaphor#it’s so clearly something everyone involved in the show is thinking about#supernatural

Gurl, me too! Like go back to the start! By the time Supernatural began, the backlash against the Joseph Campbell Monomyth-style mode of storytelling had already begun in the hallowed halls of USC film school, and yo: I was there at the time of Kripke's graduation, and my best friends from college are full scale big giant time filmmakers now, whose names I will not share on main because it's uncool, and I don't want that attention, but... yeah. I am referencing FIRST HAND SOURCES on this.

But, for a real source? The Oxford English Dictionary places the first use of the term "Queer Theory" in 1990, with Queer Studies as an option in the academy by 1992. I know the kids think it's a new-fangled thing, but Kripke graduated USC in 1996 (I graduated in 1995) and it was ALL THE RAGE by then. My friends read queer theory in their Critical Studies courses in the Film School, I read it in the College of Humanities getting my degree in Literature. By that time, you could not get through that school with any degree in any non-STEM subject without knowing about ye olde postmodern lenses, queer and feminist theory, and without knowing how to employ those lenses.

Queer refers to sexuality, yes, but the word's earliest use (again, according to the OED) is in the 1500's, meaning: strange, odd, peculiar, eccentric. Also: of questionable character; suspicious, dubious.

So, ok, in 2005, Enter Supernatural, episode 1:

Presented? Two brothers. One actively seeking credit in the straight world that is not available to him in the bosom of his family: Stanford, law school, hot co-ed girlfriend, the other bound to his fractured, wounded family by duty, yes, but also by love, living on the fringe, alone, fighting monsters, and chasing after his father's approval, and who has long since given up any dream of being 'normal'. Episode 1 presents Sam's call to adventure, which he refuses when it's just familial duty, honor and love calling him, but accepts when the show takes a very straightforward and very telling path by classically fridging his woman. Ok, now he's on board. Like John, whose motivation is another dead woman, his motivation is revenge. So far so straight!

Dean though: he's different. He is already on the adventure and he was not 'called' or given the option of accepting or refusing because he had no agency when his feet were set upon this road. He does not fit the straight world at all, because he is cobbled together out of love, duty, deep guilt, striving, desperation and fear. This is who he is now, in some elemental, incontrovertible way. It was not a choice for him, he was born to it. His mother is dead, and we later learn, she made the choices that brought them all to this fate. Dean remembers her idyllically, but he is not motivated by revenge, more than any other thing, he wants to be worthy. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love.

Enter Supernatural's main theme: fucked up relationships between men enmeshed in patriarchy, which will eventually expand to include fucking GOD HIMSELF.

And like, there are SO MANY CLEAR STEPS ALONG THE ROAD in season one, and I am not even talking about sexuality and gender here, but there is SO MUCH TO SAY about it in season 1. But I am not talking about that -- I am talking at a structural, narrative level, the whole thing is just fucking all the way queered, yo.

The big climax?

At the end of the season, Dean says: "I just want my family back together. You, me, Dad... it's all I have." He is Sam's mother, John's partner! His vulnerability and emotion is feminized and contrasted with Sam and John's more overtly driven by their more masculine/straight heroic revenge quest. John: "Sam and I can get pretty obsessed, but you always take care of this family." Only that's not John talking, it's Azazel, and Dean knows it is because his father would never forgive how soft he is, how he will always choose love and family over revenge. Then, in the end, the show makes a huge point of telegraphing that Sam is finally aligning with Dean by refusing to shoot Azazel because he's possessing John, and Sam just can't do that to Dean.

Sam and Dean are thus bound together and cemented into a marginalised path, living on the road, haunting liminal spaces and cheap motels, confronting the monstrous everyday. Sam is presented as the brains of the operation, he does research, logics his way through things (masculine) while Dean is the heart who acts impulsively and on instinct and intuition (feminine).

It later transpires that Sam has a piece of the monster inside himself, and Dean has to learn to love the monstrous, he has no choice, because Sam is his brother and then Cas... and, and, and!

Like... I could go on and on, citing ENDLESS EXAMPLES. This could be a literal book. Maybe one you need to read with a magnifying glass like my condensed edition of the OED. LIke, the queerness of Supernatural is DIZZYING and MYRIAD.

But basically? FROM THE START, hunting is a queered version of family, and within that, Dean is a queered version of a Campbellian hero. Hunting is a metaphor for otherness and liminality, and that's even before you say a WORD about sex. It starts in deviation from the norms of family, masculinity and expands from there on so many levels both in story and on a meta level. The story is flesh on queer fucking bones.

I'm so sorry, but anyone who thinks queerness was not BAKED INTO Supernatural and more specifically into Dean from DAY 1 has clearly never seen Dean's insane lip gloss in season 1, and vastly underestimates the cultural awareness of people who write shit in Hollywood, and also the other people who put pink lip gloss on pretty boys in Hollywood. Nothing that gets on your screen wasn't a fucking choice made and approved by a LONG LIST of people who know what they are about.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #the queerness is baked in from the word go #like...OBVIOUSLY #and transparently

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simpcityy · 7 months

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My Little Spawn Pt.3 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game, mentions of blood, animal death...Uhhh...I think that is all.

Authors Note: Thank you all so much for the support! I am so glad you are all loving this series so far! As always please, like, reblog and comment if you are loving this series and hopefully others would like it as well. Also...THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS. YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST. Since we reached this number, I would do another father figure series because I feel I'm much better at that than a romance x reader version. Who should it be? Gale? Wyll? Rolan? Gortash? So many choices!

Astarion leans against the rocky wall watching you get swarm by the female druids and Tieflings coddling you from how adorable you are. He lets out a small smile seeing you pout as the ladies coo at you. He thinks back to the discovery he found out 2 nights ago. Dhampir, when has Cazador ever been involved with a human. More importantly which dumb female wants to be in a relationship with Cazador. He looks at you seeing you trying to squirm away from the ladies. He sudden thinks back how protective Cazador was with you. Never letting you step out of the palace even at night….no…he wasn’t protecting you but rather himself. He’s raising you as a spawn to conceal the reality of your powers. What a bastard but then again Astarion is not surprised, it’s Cazador after all.

You finally had enough of this ladies and burst out crying “Astarion!” You wail feeling overwhelmed. He sighs and walks over “Excuse me Ladies, I think the little one has enough and I hate for them to get cranky.” He picks you up walking away from the pouting ladies. “Now, now, there is no need to cry” He sighs and rubs your back as you whimper clinging on to his armor. “Don’t like the attention or what?” He asked as you only kept quiet whimpering a couple times laying your head on his shoulder trying to relax. He leans his head back trying to look at you, “Are…you okay, so odd of you to be quiet.” He mutters trying to find the group in the grove. “I just miss home…I miss papa…and everyone else…” You mutter. He sighs “there, there but you have me no?” He hums walking through the grove enjoying this simple conversation with you. “I want to go home…my clothes don’t fit much…it hurts me and I miss my toys!” You whine. Astarion lets out a chuckle “Oh what a spoiled little spawn…well creature…eh, you’ll always be a little spawn to me.” He puts you down looking at you, it was true, he did notice you were an inch taller than yesterday and your clothes did look a bit tight. “Oh you weren’t kidding…” He thinks looking around “Dhampir do grow faster and mature faster….” He mutters to himself before going to a trader seeing if they have anything in stock, fabric even.

As he was busy, you stray from him as you spotted a few tiefling children playing. You ran over smiling “Can I play!” You stood in front of them. “Sure! You’re from Baldur’s gate aren’t you by the way you talk and dress?” One of them smiles, “What games do you play at home?” One asked. You think carefully. Games, well you play ball by yourself, Cazador has you learn reading and writing. “I…um…I don’t know…usually papa has me studying and sends his people to play with me.” You held your hands behind your back and kick your feet in a shy manner. “Oh…you’re those kinds…Um….I think I heard my mom calling” They quickly left as the others give other excuses and leave you alone. You only look down and grab the ball they dropped bouncing it on your own. “What’s the matter?” Gale walks over seeing the scene. You look up, eye glossy trying not to let tears fall down. “Making friends is hard…” You whisper “Back home there is no other children playing with me…” Gale looks at you thinking back to himself as a young child. “It is isn’t it?” He smiles gently grabbing the ball from you and tossing it to you playing. You smile giggling and toss it back to him. “I don’t have any friends at home to play with, papa never lets me leave the big castle…” You catch the ball as it was tossed back. “Is that so? I know how it feels to be lonely…how about this.” He catches the ball and placed it down as he squats to your height. “(Y/N) would you like to be my friend?” He smiles as your eyes widen gasping. “You mean it!” Your little body bouncing with excitement. Gale nods waiting for your response. “Yes!” You bounce happily “ I have to tell Astarion!” You ran off to find the pale elf. Gale chuckles watching run off to bother Astarion with a big smile on your face.

The next day You were told to stay in the grove. Shadowheart chuckles watching you pouting away eating whatever was given to you. “I want to go out too!” You look up at her. She only sighs “How do I deal with children…you want to go out you say? I guess we can outside the gates and collect some herbs. I know everyone is going to need healing after this battle.” Getting up, she held your hand and walked outside of the grove. You ran around happily collecting flowers for everyone. “What am I supposed to collect?” You asked her. She smiles fixing your hair “See this herb right there, that’s what we need.” She points as your eyes follow the direction she was pointing at. You ran over picking it up smiling and collected more. She only sits by the rock watching you over as you collected whatever caught your little eye. You hum the same tune Cazador would hum to you. Collecting flowers you stopped seeing a bunny hop around in the distance. Shadowheart was busy playing with the artifact like a rubik's cube only to look up hearing the poor bunny squeal in the distance. She panics not seeing you and gets up putting the artifact away. “(Y/N)!?” She follows the sound before going down a small path behind a rock wall seeing you drain the blood of the poor bunny. You look up at her blood soaking your shirt and your lips stained. “What…are you doing?” She slowly walks over to you and kneels by you. You look at him “I…I didn’t mean to…I wanted to play with the bunny but…” You began to wail feeling overwhelmed by these urges. “Oh please don’t cry.” Shadowheart panics looking around, not knowing what to do in this scenario. “Where is the Spawn when you need him…okay. Let’s clean you up and a nap will help” She holds your hand ignoring the blood and toss the rabbit on the side into a bush for a wolf or other animal to chow on. She walks to the river and makes you wash your hands. “Relax, everything is going to be okay.” She whispers as you whimper. She collects water into her palm and rubs off the blood from your shirt the best of her ability. She sighs seeing the shirt to be now discolored into the blood stain. “Your bag is in the grove….we can’t let them see you like this.” She wipes your cheeks clean as well. You look over hearing the bush rustle behind her. Shadowheart quickly picked you up and took out her mace. “Who goes there!” She glares. You cling to her only to tear up seeing Astarion walk out of the bush.

“There you are, I thought I smelled blood near the gate.” He was out of breath and bruised from the battle they came back. His hair was all over the place and had a panicked look on his face. Shadowheart puts her mace away “Don’t scare me like that! I could’ve swing!” She scolds at him. He paid no attention to her as he walks over seeing your face stained in tears and a scared look. He noticed your clothes stained in blood. He took you from her arms and held you close, his hand on the back of your head. “What in the hells were you thinking?! I thought it was your blood I smelled all the way from the gates! I thought you got hurt!” He yells but not loudly knowing how much you hate it. You only laid your little head on his shoulder crying into his shoulder, your fist clinging on to him. He softens a bit feeling your little shoulders shake, you were scared. “What happened?” He looks at Shadowheart ready to pin this on her. “What did you do to them!” He glares at her. Hearing the commotion, Tav found them along with the others following. “What’s going on? Why is (Y/N) crying?” Tav walks over ready to stop Astarion seeing the murderous glare at the young woman. “What did you do!” He repeats to her, holding you close. “Their Dhampir side came out…” Shadowheart looks at him, feeling a bit speechless seeing him get this overprotective. She snaps out of it and points to the bunny in the bush. Gale walks over but turns around quickly “If you have a weak stomach…I suggest not looking” He covers his mouth. Tav walks over and looks at the bunny. “Gods…its in pieces….” They whisper. Hearing their comments made you tear up. They think your a monster, they won’t be your friends anymore…they won’t take you to see your home and papa anymore. You only hide your face more, letting out choked sobs. “Enough! Think before you speak.” Astarion held you close “We just hide the damn bunny and do our best to cheer them up…they are feeling overwhelmed and not themselves…gods do you people ever use your brain?” He walks off holding you close.

Night fell, you were in Astarion tent, in the corner. The pale elf walks in holding food, “Your still human…you need to eat this….we can start implementing human foods more than blood to control that urge.” He sits by you. You only look at the plate, hugging your knees and shake your head no. “(Y/N)...it was okay what you did…it’s in your nature…and I know your scared…I was too…when I first became a spawn….” He whispers softly and scoots closer only for you to scoot away. “ No…I don’t want to you…or anyone…like I did to Mr.Bunny..” You tear up. “Is that why mommy didn’t want me…am I a monster…they…probably won’t be my friends anymore” You whispers thinking back their reaction to the bunny. Astarion looks at you before grabbing your arm, you gasp and try to wiggle away, scared to hurt him only to feel a warm embrace. Astarion held you close, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “By hells, you are speaking nonsense little spawn.” He rubbed your back. “If they thought of us as monster, we wouldn’t be here now…they…are odd in their own ways you know so no one is perfect.” He grabbed the plate “Now eat up” He feed you a piece of fish and sat you on his lap, making sure you ate. You happily munched feeling slightly better.

After finishing your food, you laid your little head on Astarions chest as he held you close in one arm while the other was busy reading a book about Dhampir’s he found in a box. Your little doe eyes look up seeing everyone walk to Astarion’s tent. You cling to him feeling anxious only to calm down as Astarion rubs your little arm, “Relax, they come bearing gifts” He hums. Gale was the first one to talk “(Y/N), it was rude of me to…you know…having a weak stomach but you have nothing to worry about, I will always be your friend.” He smiles and leans down leaving down a purple wrapped gift on the ground for you smiling. He rubs your head “Sleep well” He whispers before being pushed back by Karlach, “Hey little soldier! Look what I got you” She smiles placing the small stuff bear in your arms which you happily accepted. “Thank you” You whisper shyly hugging the bear. Shadowheart smiles as it was her turn. “I got you some pretty flowers and made a couple of bracelets, we both have one. “ She shows off hers and place the other next to Gale’s gift. Tav walks over smiling and crouched next to you and Astarion. “Mine…you’ll have to wait because I promise…I will take you back home” They pat your head. Upon hearing this, you gasp. “You mean it! I get to see my papa soon!” You sat up.

Astarion leans back watching you interact happily with everyone, that fear gone. He chuckles seeing you yawn and rub your eyes. “Alright little spawn time for sleep.” He looks at the others shooing them away from his tent and picks you up, fixing the bedroll and lays down, holding you close. He wasn’t going to let you go through this alone, not on his watch. You’re his little spawn after all.

#dadstarion #dadstarion x child reader #dad astarion #bg3 x reader #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fic #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #karlach #shadowheart #fatherfigure #astarion #MyLittleSpawn

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mrdixon · 1 year

Text

Work in Progress

pairing: pre-negan Alexandria Daryl x f!reader

wc: 8.1k (sorry.)

warnings: 18+ content, unprotected sex, p-in-v, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), alcohol (sober sex.), mild swearing, some fluff,,,

summary: Your friends peer pressure you into asking Daryl out to the cookout that's taking place tonight.

A/N: this is like my first ever smut officially written and OH MY GOD im so sorry if its terrible i was cringing at some parts. sooooo cliche but i promise ill be better. i realize reading this back that so many of them are slightly out of character but ignore it, i was drunk writing half of this. i also never intended this to be that long and i freaked out reading the word count so. anyways i hope you enjoy and feel free to request anything more!! id be happy to write more for you all.

masterlist!

“I’m telling you, he likes you.” You roll your eyes from your spot at your desk after hearing Maggie’s comment, continuing to focus on your work rather than the idiotic conversation taking place.

“How and why would Daryl like me?” You ask and look up at your three friends Maggie, Carol, and Rosita. It’s like you can pinpoint the exact moment they all mentally facepalm at your question, “I’m just saying.” You mutter under your breath, looking back down at the plans for the reinforcement of Alexandria’s walls. The silence was too loud but you could tell the three of them were all glancing at each other while trying to figure out what to say to you.

“Well for starters, he visits you a lot.” Carol tried to reason, earning a scoff from you. “No I’m serious, he doesn’t even stay home that often. That prick has only stayed for food recently.” The corner of your mouth curls up slightly at her comment, still looking down at your notes.

“Plus he smiles a lot around you, I’ve never seen him smile that hard before… Let alone at all.” Rosita adds. You sigh, finally looking up at your friends and immediately getting startled by all of them looking towards you. You think about what Rosita said and contemplate it for a moment, well he has been hanging around you recently…

“Nope, no way.” They all audibly groan as they turn away from you, “besides. I don’t even like him like that.” Now that earns a scoff from them.

“Oh please. You can hardly keep eye contact with him, let alone speak coherent sentences when he’s around.” Carol retorts, tending to the carnations in a vase in the corner of your study room. You scoff again at the exaggerated example whilst shaking your head.

“Uh uh, I can keep eye contact with him. In fact I have no problem interacting with him because he’s just a friend.” You state bluntly before getting up and putting your notes into a folder behind your seat.

“Oh my god hey Daryl!” Rosita calls out, causing you to quickly fix your hair and spin around with a bright smile on your face. All just to slouch back down onto your chair once you realize it was just to catch you off guard. The three of them laugh silently to themselves while muttering a “we told you so” in unison.

“Fine. I guess I do like him but that does not mean I’m going to do anything about it.” You look down at your lap, hearing clothes shuffling from how quickly they all snap their heads in your direction.

“Why the hell not?” Maggie exclaims, “you know it’s nice. Being in a relationship, plus you guys complement each other well.

You sigh as you spin around in your chair, staring up at the ceiling in thought. “Well… Even if he does like me, I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Bullshit.” Carol says bluntly before walking up to you, “just ask him out. He won’t say no.” You roll your eyes and spin away from her, staring at your wall.

Rosita spins the chair around back so you can face them, “Carol’s right. Daryl has been pining you for like months, maybe even years now.”

“How am I even supposed to ask him out? Like should I ask him to hang out like usual and pop the question or should I ask him to dinner?” You nibble at the end of your finger anxiously, even considering asking him out is terrifying.

“Oh! You should ask him out to the cookout tonight, it’ll be perfect.” Maggie grabs your hands excitedly, flashing her bright smile at you.

“Oh god no I’m not going.” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Rosita grabs your hands, forcing you to look at her. You can tell she has an idea, one you won’t like.

“You are going. No questions asked, no objections. And you will ask him out.” You bite your bottom lip, “c’mon…. If you’re lucky you’ll get laid-” Maggie’s hand flies over Rosita’s mouth to stop her but the statement was already heard.

“I’m not going to fuck him on the first date!” You exclaim, your eyes wide in disbelief.

“It’s a date!” Maggie yells, Rosita says the same but muffled from Maggie’s hand over her mouth. You shake your head profusely, waving your hands around as you panic, not wanting to admit asking him out.

The door opens suddenly, all four of your heads snapping towards the door. A very confused Daryl pokes his head in, furrowing his brows at the scene. “Am I interrupting?”

Carol grabs Maggie and Rosita, dragging them towards the door. “Nope, in fact (Y/N) has something to ask you so we’ll leave you to it.” Carol grins “unsuspiciously” at him whilst dragging the other two out. Rosita mouths a “we’ll come back later” while exiting the room, Maggie giving a thumbs up. You groan, putting your head in your hands as you run your fingers through your hair.

You can hear heavy footsteps walk towards you, the squeak of a chair being pulled up next to your desk before that familiar gruff voice speaks. “What was it that you wanted to ask?”

You lift your head to look at Daryl, your heart jumping at the close proximity you two were in. For a moment you contemplate whether to bail on the question or just go for it. You clear your throat, sitting up and crossing your arms, “are you going to the cookout tonight?” Quickly looking away in embarrassment. Nothing even happened yet.

He grunts, shifting in his seat. “Was just gonna go fer a little bit, don’ really feel like stickin’ around.” You nod slowly, muttering a mutual statement.

“Wanna go together?” You look up once more, mentally cringing and hitting yourself. For a moment you could swear his eyes lit up, he nibbled the inside of his bottom lip. A habit of his which you silently found endearing.

“Yeah. Yeah sure.” He grumbles, looking to the side. His hair falling over his face, you had an urge to reach up and brush it away but you held back, not wanting to be too bold. You hum silently, awkwardly shifting away from him in your seat.

“Oh, why’d you come here? Did you need something?” You look over at him, realizing he came here on his own free will. He clears his throat, brushing his bangs out of his face with his hand as he looks at you. Reaching into his pocket and handing you a little fox figurine, he had a slight smile on his face as he handed it to you.

You giggled, inspecting it as you held it in your hands. Unbeknownst to you, he was staring at you. Looking at your features and studying them, if someone walked in it would look as if he were a painter and you were his subject. “I jus’ found it on a run earlier, thought ‘cha might like it.” He murmured sheepishly, playing with his fingers.

You looked towards him, smiling at him with those eyes that made his heart skip a beat every time you even glanced in his direction. “I do like it, thanks Daryl.” You placed the figurine on your desk, next to a picture frame of you and the group. Daryl suddenly stood up, looking down at you softly before turning towards the door.

“I’ll pick ya up later tonight then?” He smiled slightly and you nodded, waving to him as he left. Once the door shut you spun around in your chair, your face heating up as you just processed everything that just happened. But now you were left to dread about the upcoming cookout in a few hours.

“No, not happening.” You crossed your arms at the dress presented to you by Rosita and Maggie. It was a very flattering dress for sure, it was a deep red colour, the length ended just above mid thigh, and the neckline was pretty low. It was something you probably wouldn’t ever wear, even pre-apocalypse. “Sorry Rosita but your style just doesn’t fit me. If anything, I’d like to try one of Maggie's dresses.” You shrug and Maggie stifles a laugh.

“Hun this is my dress.” She smirks at you while you frown, “farmer’s daughter can be pretty outrageous too y’know.” Rosita laughs, tossing the dress at you.

“At least try it on, just humour us.” Rosita mockingly pleads with you. Rolling your eyes you walk towards the bathroom with the dress in hand, hearing a quiet cheer from the both of them as you shut the door.

You stare down at the garment in your hands, trying it on couldn’t hurt… Right? You sigh, taking off your shirt and shorts before slipping the dress on. You audibly gasp at your reflection in the mirror, a hand going over your mouth. The dress hugged your body perfectly, it wasn’t tight but it fit in all the right places. You looked hot.

“Everything alright?” Maggie knocked on the door. You rushed over to the door, opening it.

“Dude…” You mutter in disbelief as you show yourself off to them. Maggie clasped her hands together laughing.

“Girl. If I wasn’t helping you get with Daryl I’d be all over you right now.” Rosita smirks, looking you up and down as you smack her shoulder playfully.

“Well are you gonna wear it or not? I think you should, if you have Rosita thirsting over you then imagine how Daryl is going to react when he picks you up like this.” Maggie giggles, fixing the back of your dress.

You bite your lip in thought, “I don’t know….” Rosita almost slaps you with how fast she turns around to grab you.

“Why not!? You look so fucking hot right now and I swear to god Daryl will think the same.” You laugh slightly at Rosita’s shock, Maggie murmuring agreement with her.

You let out a breath, shaking your head as you turn to the mirror. Fixing your hair a bit and brushing over the dress, a small smiling tugging at your lips as you nod. “Okay fine I’ll wear it, but only because I want to. Not because I want to impress Daryl.” Maggie rolls her eyes playfully as Rosita jumps up clapping.

“Okay well don’t let us bother you, and have fun tonight.” Maggie giggles, taking Rosita to leave, “not too much fun.” She jokes while winking and leaving the room causing you to shoot a glare at her as the door closes behind them.

You go to grab some small heels which surprisingly matches the colour of the dress and quickly look yourself over. Fixing your hair properly this time. Now all that’s left is to wait for Daryl to come pick you up… You take a deep breath, muttering a small affirmation before exiting your room and going downstairs to wait for Daryl.

After what feels like an eternity of waiting, a familiar three beat knock shatters your thoughts. Immediately standing up and walking over to the door, taking yet another deep breath before opening the door.

There he was. Daryl was standing there dressed in his normal attire but neater. His eyes widened at the sight of you, discreetly looking you up and down. A small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips before averting his gaze after a moment, causing you to blush and look down at your feet.

“You look… great.” He breathes out, a small smile playing at your lips as you mumble a small thank you. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, not noticing the way his eyes sparkled as he looked down at you. He cleared his throat, moving to the side to let you exit your house, “well let’s get going then.”

You guys started walking towards the middle of Alexandria where the cookout was being held, you felt a bit nervous for tonight as you were worried about fucking everything up. You glanced up at Daryl who had a slight smile playing at his lips, you sighed softly as you looked back down. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

You two walked in silence, the air was tense. Neither of you said anything before you got to the cookout. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you saw Carol cooking up some rabbit stew by one of the picnic tables. “I’ll be right back.” You muttered to Daryl, giving him a pat on the shoulder before darting towards Carol. Daryl stared after you for a moment, a slight frown on his face when you left him.

Carol shook when you approached her from behind and smacked a hand on her shoulder, placing down a large pot of soup as she looked at you with furrowed brows. “Don’t do that, I could’ve dropped that and I bet a lot of people here would be very mad at you for destroying everyone’s favourite rabbit stew in town….” You rolled your eyes, turning your head to find Daryl before nodding your head over to him. Carol narrowed her eyes confused as she looked at you, “you got a neck problem or something?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you muttered to her. “Daryl’s over there.” Her eyes lit up before immediately smacking you on the head, causing you to yelp and hit her back.

“What are you doing here with me? Go talk to him you idiot.” She grinned, taking a wooden spoon and stirring the pot of soup. Before you could argue she pushed you away, “go, I’m busy anyway.” She giggled as you glared at her, taking a deep breath and turning to walk in Daryl’s direction. He was over by the drink table, pouring himself a glass of whiskey and taking a sip. Your eyes traveled down to his throat in which his adam’s apple bobbed when swallowing the liquid, his bicep flexing when he moved his arm. You immediately shook your head to escape those thoughts and looked around to make sure no one was watching you practically drooling over him.

You took a deep breath before approaching him, a soft smile on your face as you looked up at him. He glanced down at you, his usual tough demeanour faltering and he flashed you a quick smile. “You wan’ a drink?” He offered, gesturing to the table. Your gaze moved towards the table, scanning over it before eyeing the bottle of red wine. He immediately followed, picking up a glass and pouring some for you. He shyly handed you the glass before taking your hand and dragging you along with him. The contact of his hand holding yours was enough to make your knees shake, looking at the back of his head as he led you through the crowd.

He finally let go of your hand once you guys got to a more secluded spot of the area, he took a seat by the tree nearby. You quickly followed suit, making sure to hold your dress down as you went to sit beside him, once you sat you took a sip of your wine to calm your nerves. He slowly shifted closer to you, taking his vest off and placing it over your lap which made you look up at him.

“Don’ wan’ anyone to look up yer skirt.” He mumbled, sitting back against the tree and taking a swig of his whiskey. You blushed, hiding your face by drinking some more of your wine. He noticed and chuckled a bit, tucking your hair behind your ear. He immediately retracted his hand, “sorry.”

You shook your head giggling as he watched you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “It’s fine.”

“You really are pretty tonight.” He mumbled, clearing his throat as he looked you over again. You chuckle, placing your hand on his knee.

“Thanks, you look good too y’know. Clean.” He snorts at your statement, hiding a grin behind his glass. You try to grab his head and turn him to you, the both of you giggling as you quickly discard your glass of wine, the substance seeping into the ground beneath you.

“Stop hiding… You’re so cute when you smile.” You blurt out, causing Daryl to pause for a moment before scoffing and shaking his head. You were glad you drank, the alcohol probably aiding you with even looking at him. “You are.” You insisted, brushing his bangs out of his face.

He pulls back which makes your brows furrow together, worried that you may have made him uncomfortable. “Don’ say things like tha’.” He murmurs, only fueling your confusion.

You tilted your head to try and read his expression, but like always you couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking. He was hiding behind his hair again, you tried to reach up to brush it away. To look into those piercing blue eyes you grew to love but he backed away. “Stop, ya shouldn’. We shouldn’t.” He said gruffly. You frowned, moving closer to him.

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, a twinge of hope in your tone as you placed a hand on his knee. He shifted away and cleared his throat, running his fingers through his hair.

“We shouldn’ do things or say stuff we don’ mean.” Your heart broke at his sentence. Maybe you were right, he didn’t like you like that. You moved away slightly, a gap in between the both of you as you sat in silence. You played with your fingers, a lump in your throat as you realized you probably made him uncomfortable. You beat yourself up mentally for being too bold with him, thinking about how you should’ve just stayed home tonight.

He glanced at you, nibbling the inside of his bottom lip before grunting, moving closer to you before speaking softly. “What I mean is, I don’t wanna do somethin’ you don’ want an’ scare ya off.” You looked at him, tilting your head as you bite the edge of your thumb.

You took a deep breath as you processed his words, still looking up at him as you narrowed your eyes questioningly. “I like ya, (Y/N).” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head as he again, shifted away from you. You said nothing for awhile which only piqued Daryl’s anxiety, making him wonder if you even heard him.

“I like you too.” You physically cringed hearing the words come out of your mouth, feeling like you were in middle school again. He chuckled, leaning back against the tree and staring up at the purple sky. You looked at him for a moment, the soft summer breeze was blowing his hair gently and causing it to occasionally fly into his eyes, giggling when he grunted about it. You also leaned against the tree, your head turned towards him the entire time as you stared at him with eyes he never thought would be directed towards him. He turned his head to look back at you, a soft smile playing at his lips before he opening his mouth to speak.

“Wanna get outta here?” Once you nodded he smiled, standing up and offering his hand which you gratefully accepted. He took his vest back and wrapped it around your shoulders to keep you warm which didn’t really help due to there being no sleeves, but the feeling of his affection did. You interlocked your fingers together with his as he led you through the crowd for the last time tonight, his heart skipped a beat when you initiated the hand holding and he felt a warm feeling in his chest. One he never knew he’d get to experience.

He eventually brought you over to his house in which he shared with Carol, letting you enter first as he came in behind you. His large hand lingering over the small of your back while you took off his vest, mumbling gratitude as you handed it back to him. He chuckled, placing the vest on the couch as he took a seat, gesturing for you to join him.

“Carol won’t be home ‘til late tonigh’, reckon it’s gotta do with the cookout.” He grumbled, watching you sit down. He took time to watch you, noticing the way more of your thighs were exposed when your dress rode up. He quickly averted his gaze, biting his bottom lip as he rubbed the scruff on his chin. You just nodded, silently leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

He laughed silently, “yer awfully quiet tonight. Why’d the sudden confession change the way you act aroun’ me?” You slapped his chest gently, hearing a quiet “there it is” from him as you lifted your head up.

“It’s just… different. I guess it’s just me seeing you in a different way, officially.” He snorted, glancing over at you. His eyes caught a glimpse of the low cut neckline of your dress, your cleavage practically flaunting in his face. His head shot up towards the ceiling, a gruff chuckle escaping him.

“What kinda way you see me before?” He grunts as he mocks your words slightly, you shake your head and placed your head against his shoulder once more.

“Never wanted to admit my feelings for you, not even to myself. I always just thought you saw me as a friend and nothing more.” You mumbled, absentmindedly tracing shapes into the back of his hand with your finger. He smiled at the gesture before looking up in thought.

“It was the same fer me.” He rubbed over his face with his left hand, “if you didn’ ask me out today I probably never would’ve.” You hummed softly in acknowledgement, silently happy you were literally peer pressured into asking him out.

His hand grasped yours, rubbing circles into your hand with his thumb, sighing softly. “I’d probably still be sneaking glances at you. Who am I kiddin’ I’ll probably still do that.” He chuckled softly as you grinned stupidly. His heart swelled at your smile. Wanting to see more of it he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing it gently while you giggled at his stubble scratching against it. “I love the way you sound.” He added softly, looking at you with eyes you never knew was possible for him to make. This Daryl was way different from the one you met all those years back at the quarry, you weren’t complaining. You just hoped you’d be the only person he looked at this way.

You both sat in silence as you stared at each other, gradually leaning closer. You closed your eyes as his lips pressed against yours. The way his lips felt against yours was perfect, better than any pair of lips that fell upon your own. The kiss went on for awhile, it was soft, innocent. His hand moved to your cheek, tilting your head as he tried to deepen the kiss, his tongue prodding at your lips for entrance. You gratefully granted it and his tongue slipped into your mouth, the faint taste of whiskey and tobacco lingering on his tongue. You hummed into the kiss and felt his breath hitch from the vibration, reluctantly you both pulled back for air, your foreheads pressed together.

“Daryl… can we go to your room?” You broke the silence, feeling his hot breath against your face. He stroked your hair and pulled back with his brows furrowed.

“Ya sure…? I don’ wanna do anything you don’ want to do.” He was serious, looking into your eyes. Once you nodded he hesitantly grabbed your hand and gently guided you towards the basement where he claimed his bedroom. His hand no longer lingered on the small of your back, now fully pressing against it as he held your hand with his free one, guiding you down the stairs and into his bedroom.

He closed the door behind him, turning back to you as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your lips. He let out a shocked noise which you found cute, his arms wrapped around your waist as he kissed you back. The kiss quickly deepened, your tongues moving together in a sensual dance as he backed you up towards his bed, gently placing you down.

He pulled back, sitting next to you. You immediately sat up to try and kiss him again but he stopped you, “(Y/N), you drank earlier. ‘m not gonna do anythin’ if yer drunk, ya know that.”

You shook your head, moving closer. “I had two sips, barely enough to get me drunk. And I know I want this, especially with you. Only you Daryl.” You whispered, noticing the way his breathing became shallow as you moved closer.

“Ya sure? (Y/N), I need you to be absolutely sure. I—I don’ wanna hurt ya.” He nibbled his bottom lip anxiously. You placed a hand on his chest, your eyes clouded with desire, feeling the way his heart beat faster. He watched as you lowered your head towards his neck, kissing and licking the skin there, closing your eyes as he groaned quietly.

“I’m sure.” You whispered against his skin and caused him to shiver before he took you by the shoulders, pushing you onto the bed. No further words were needed as he started kissing your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin. You shook underneath him as small pleas escaped your lips.

He growled quietly, nibbling you and leaving small bites on your neck, searching for one spot. You let out a louder than intended moan, there it is. There was one thing about Daryl, he was good at finding things. He continued to kiss and suck on the soft spot of your neck, quiet noises left your mouth almost pathetically as you fell apart underneath him. He pulled back to look at you, his breath hitching as he saw the state you were in. Your face was flushed, eyes closed, and your lips were parted. Red and swollen from your previous making out. You whined softly, raising your hands to try and feel him again. He swallowed hard. He barely even touched you and yet you were so… so needy.

“Jesus (Y/N)…” He muttered under his breath, lightly tracing over your knees before pushing them apart. Rubbing his chin as he stared down at you, grabbing you by your shoulders, “sit up girl.” He helped you sit up, kissing your lips softly before looking into your eyes once more. His hand moved to your back, playing with the zipper of your dress. He looked up at you for permission, you gave a nod and he smiled softly, kissing your temple before slowly unzipping your dress. He slowly slipped your dress down, kissing your shoulder gently as his left hand rubbed your knee comfortingly.

Soon he pulled your dress off, leaving you in your undergarments. His eyes traced over your body, thinking he’d never live to see this moment. You shivered as the cold air hit your body and he immediately encircled you, his arms moved around your body as he went to press his lips against yours once more.

Your eyes fluttered shut and giggled into the kiss when his stubble tickled you, his hand running through your hair gently. The feeling of his nails scratching your scalp made you shiver excitedly. Gently, his hands moved down your body but they moved with hesitation. It was like he was treating you as if you were fragile and would crumble if he moved too quickly.

“Don’t hold back Daryl…” You whispered, stroking his cheek with your thumb. He nodded, looking back down as his hands moved with more force. He lightly traced over the straps of your bra, playing with the little bits of lace as he moved down to kiss your collarbone. His tongue darting out to lick over to the bra strap, kissing your shoulder before slipping the strap off your shoulder. All while glancing up at you to make sure there were no signs of discomfort, you looked back down at him and smiled softly causing his heart to skip a beat. He pressed another loving kiss to your lips before slipping the other strap off your shoulder, his hands moving behind you to unclasp your bra with ease. He tossed your bra onto the floor, backing up to look at you. After he said nothing you felt a rush of embarrassment, shyly covering your breasts from him.

“No, no, no…” He whispered, taking your hands and moving them to your side, “don’ hide ‘em. Yer beautiful.” He quickly kissed your cheek, then your chin, your neck, and then finally the valley of your breasts. You let out a soft whimper as his lips moved over to your left breast, kissing the flesh gently before parting his lips and placing it over your nipple. A shocked but pleased moan exited your mouth while his left hand moved to massage your other breast, his tongue swirling around. Your eyes fluttered shut when his mouth moved to give your other breast attention, your lips parted and let out soft gasps of pleasure. Your hand moved to the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair and gripping it gently, causing him to grunt against you.

He moved back giving your chest one last kiss before unbuttoning his shirt, you reached up to help him. Hands shaking with anticipation as each button was undone, pushing the shirt off his shoulders and onto the floor. He kissed you intensely, pushing you down onto the bed and pressing a knee in between your legs. Your hands moved to touch his chest, tracing over the scarred skin. He flinched back, suddenly self conscious about the scars all over his back and chest. You knew about his trauma, you were one of the only people he opened up to, but this was your first time seeing it. Noticing his anxiety, you leaned up on your elbows, tracing the scars gently. Pressing your lips against them, feeling his tense body relax under your touch, he let out a deep sigh as you showed affection towards him like this. Closing his eyes as his love for you only grew deeper, never in his life would he have thought someone would creep this deep into his heart.

He pushed you back, his lips finding yours as his hand lingered down over the waistband of your panties. You groaned into his mouth as his fingers slipped under and over to your wet pussy, his breath faltered at how wet you were. How eager you were for him.

“Daryl.” You breathed out when he parted from your mouth, his fingers gently rubbing your clit.

“Mm?” He hummed next to your ear, his middle finger dipping through your slick as he continued to rub your sensitive nub. A choked moan escaped you as he did this, his other hand running his fingers through your hair as he shushed you. “Easy…” You bit your lip as the hand in your hair left to pull your panties down, tossing it onto the floor to join the other clothes.

His fingers left you momentarily as he moved down the bed slowly to look at your glistening pussy. He placed a hand on your thigh, spreading your open further while you looked down at him. Your brows were furrowed in pleasure, lips parted as your breathing came out shallow and ragged. He pushed his index finger past your folds, groaning at how wet you were as he teased your entrance. Your whining was enough to make him twitch in his pants, suddenly realizing how tight his pants felt. He let his index push into your entrance, feeling your tight walls convulse around the digit and hearing a moan escape you. He smirked from his place as he looked up at you, “alrigh’ up there?” Your eyes were shut tight while your brows were pressed together, you let out a shaky breath and nodded. He took your confirmation as a sign to start pumping his finger in and out of you, your legs shaking.

You were kind of embarrassed by how this man had you shaking just by one finger, but it’s been awhile since you’ve last done this with anyone. Plus it was Daryl fucking Dixon… You let out yet another pathetic moan, your hand coming up to cover your noises out of embarrassment. He stopped moving his finger and you whine, looking down at him. He had a frown on his face.

“Don’ cover yer mouth, lemme hear those pretty noises from you darlin’.” He drawled lowly, you whimpered as you slowly lowered your hand and he continued moving his finger. He eventually slipped a second into you, stretching you out. You threw your head back against the bed as you cried out in pleasure. After a moment he removed his fingers, only to replace it with something warm. You gasped out once you realized it was his tongue pressing against your clit.

“D—Daryl…” You stuttered, your fingers finding themselves in his hair. He lapped at your pussy, eating you out as if you were the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten in his entire life. Loud moans echoed through his room as you tugged on his hair, lifting your hips to grind against his face. He grunted against you, holding your hips with his large hands as he held you down, slurping up your arousal.

Moans kept spilling out of you as he kept sucking at your clit, feeling a familiar feeling building up in your stomach. You whimpered, pushing his head further down against you. “Fuck Daryl… I’m gonna…” You groaned when he slipped a finger into you again, his tongue still lapping at your clit, “I’m gonna cum.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, the vibrations almost sending you over the edge as another finger pumped into you. The amount of attention he was giving your pussy was overwhelming as his fingers curled inside of you, fingertips just barely brushing over your sweet spot. You mewled, pulling his hair hard as he curled his fingers again, sucking on your clit in the process. He could tell you were close and he pumped and curled his fingers faster, finally hitting that sweet spot inside of you. A loud moan spilling out of your mouth as your head pushed back further into the bed.

“Tha’s it… come fer me..” He mumbled against your clit, sending you over the edge and reaching that climax. Your fluids rushing onto his fingers, which he pulled out. His tongue darting towards your juices and licking it all up. You let out a small whimper as lewd noises of him slurping all your juices up rang through your ears. He licked you clean, lifting his head up and wiping his chin with his forearm, covered in your release. The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you breathe heavily, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you come down from your high. He licked his fingers clean, rolling his eyes back with a low groan. “So sweet…” He whispered, eliciting a whine from you.

He quickly started unbuckling his belt, needing to free his almost painful erection. You whimpered again, his hands twitching at the noise. “Daryl…” You whispered so desperately you normally would’ve been embarrassed, but the ache between your thighs and the desire for him was too strong for you to even care.

“Shh.. I got ya..” He whispered, moving closer to you as one hand gently caressed your cheek, the other continuing to unbutton his pants. He placed a sweet kiss to your temple while the hand on your cheek moved to push your hair out of your face. “So beautiful.”

He planted another kiss to your head before moving back to shove his pants down, you eyed the bulge in his boxers. You moved to sit up and grabbed his hips, pulling him closer. He chuckled lowly, caressing your head as he looked down at you. His lustful eyes peered down at you as you looked up at him with your own desperate ones. Before you could pull him out of his underwear he stopped you, pulling back.

“Hold on.” He whispered softly, moving to his bedside table and rummaging through it. Your gaze followed him, crawling over on the bed towards him, “shit.” He muttered, a frown on his face. You furrowed your brows in confusion, sitting on your knees as he went to cup your face. He kissed your lips sweetly, apologetically. “Sorry (Y/N)… I think we have to do this another time, I don’ got any condoms.”

You took his hands from your face, kissing his knuckles. Feeling his calloused fingertips run against your palms. “It’s okay… I don’t mind.” You said gently and looked down at his fingers laced with yours. His eyes widened and he frowned once again, rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs.

“Ya sure? I don’… I don’ think tha’s a good idea (Y/N),” he murmured softly. You sighed, lowering your hand to palm him through his briefs, earning a grunt from him as his hand gripped your wrist. You looked into his eyes, begging him to just continue without it. His grip on your wrist loosened and you continued to move your hand against him, a low groan escaping him. “(Y/N).”

“Please Daryl… I don’t care. Just pull out.” You pleaded with him, you just needed him inside of you. Feeling more aroused the more he kept you waiting. His bangs were over his eyes again, ”I’ll have to trim those soon.” You thought to yourself, he kept silent as if contemplating the idea. He nodded slowly, taking your chin and lifting your face to his before smashing his lips onto yours in a heated kiss.

His tongue met yours messily as he pushed you down onto the bed, his hands finding your breasts again. Kissing him was addicting, it felt right. You let out a small moan into his mouth, his grip on your breast tightening as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. A low growl escaped him as he pulled back, slipping off his boxers. Your eyes travelled down to see his cock, your breath catching from how hard it was. Not to mention how huge he was. He groaned, taking hold of himself and stroking himself slowly to relieve some of that tension, precum starting to dribble out of his tip. You pulled him down by his neck, connecting your lips once more while you replaced his hand with your own. Jerking him off slowly as he groaned deeply into your mouth.

“Hol’ on baby.” He whispered sweetly, taking your hand away from him. He moved back, keeping his hands on your knees as you looked up at him. Your expression one of pure lust and desire, the dim light of his lamp highlighting your curves, your body scarred from past battles and years of being in the apocalypse. Your hair was perfectly splayed around the pillow framing your head and your lips were parted, swollen. The hands on your knees slowly pushed them apart, spreading you open for him. He groaned at the sight unravelling in front of him, his cock twitching as his gaze wandered down to your dripping cunt. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

His finger dipped down to touch your pussy as he jerked himself off slowly, a mewl spilling out of your mouth at the sensation. His touch was so light and delicate it almost hurt. “Daryl please.” You pleaded, not wanting to continue this any longer. You needed him inside of you. He got the memo, nodding while grabbing your hips with one hand as the other grabbed his dick and positioned it at your entrance.

“Fuck yer so wet.” He drawled, his tip running through your folds as you whined impatiently. He chuckled quietly, lowering his head to kiss your jaw, sucking gently. “So impatient.” He growled, kissing down your neck and over to your breasts. His tip pushing into you slowly.

You let out a cry as he slowly pushed into you, his thick dick stretching you, your walls convulsing around him as you struggled to adjust. He cursed into your neck, kissing the sweet spot on your neck while a hand moved into your hair to try and distract you from the pain. You whimpered, closing your eyes as you tried to focus on anything but the pain as he continued to push in slowly. He caressed your hair and kissed up your neck and over to your jaw, shushing you. Murmuring sweet nothings into your ear as he bottomed out, halting once he fully entered. You weren’t necessarily a virgin but the last time you’ve ever had sex was before the apocalypse, and he wasn’t as big as Daryl.

“Move.” You whimpered breathlessly, he looked up at you for confirmation and when you nodded he slowly pulled out. Only to push back in, eliciting a whine from you. He hesitantly continued and soon the pain turned into pleasure, a deep moan erupting from you as he kept his face buried in your neck. His hot breath turning you on further as he started to bite at your neck, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease.

He let out a low groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine as he moved down to your breasts once more. His tongue darting out and licking your nipple while his hand moved to pinch the other. Everything quickly became overwhelming as your back arched off the bed and into him, a loud moan escaping you once more. You didn’t care about being too loud, you were too in bliss to even think about someone hearing you. Your hands moved into his hair, tugging it and causing him to grunt in your ear. His pace quickened and the squelch of his dick pumping into your wet cunt echoed through the room.

His lips returned back to yours, your tongues meeting in an intimate dance as his hips snapped relentlessly into you. You could do nothing but moan into his mouth and tug his hair, his own hands gripping at your hips, probably going to leave bruises in the morning from how tight he was holding onto you. The kiss was sloppy and messy, your teeth clashing together while moans and whines poured out of your mouth and into his. He swallowed up your noises, pressing his mouth right up against yours to muffle your sounds. All while pounding into you at a rough pace.

One of your hands trailed down his neck and onto his back, digging your nails into his skin and releasing your mouth from his. He buried his face into your neck, groaning more as you scratched his back and pulled his hair. His hips stuttering slightly. You held him close, wrapping your legs around his waist while he tried to speed up again. The headboard was hitting the wall now and the bed was creaking with every thrust he gave. Your moans blended perfectly together with his heavy groans, the sound of his balls hitting your ass echoing through his room.

You started to shake, that same feeling building up in your stomach as your walls throbbed around him, eliciting a choked moan from him as he slipped an arm under you. Soft gasps came out of your mouth, your throat hoarse from all your screaming and moaning, but they kept on coming. He held you close to him, acknowledging the fact you’re close.

“Almost there baby, hold on fer me.” He grunted into your ear, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and irregular as he also chased towards his climax. You quietly whined into his ear, your pussy clenching around his dick. His eyes rolled back into his head as your walls trapped him inside of you, thrusting deeper into you and hitting that sweet spot.

You threw your head back, arching off the bed as you let out a loud moan of his name. Releasing all over his cock and onto his bedsheets.

“So tight…” He moaned softly, pulling out and cumming on your stomach. He collapsed on top of you, not fully pressing his body weight on you. The two of you breathing heavily as you try to catch your breaths. After a moment he lifted off of you, kissing your jaw. You kept your eyes closed, lips parted in a soft breathing while he whispered into your ear. “Be righ’ back.”

You can hear him walk into the bathroom, a bit of shuffling around before he comes back into the room. You were right where he left you, eyes closed and covered in cum. You could hear him chuckle quietly before a cold feeling hits your skin, your eyes snap open in shock and he shushes you. You look down and notice he’s wiping you clean with a wet towel. Relaxing, you lay your head back down on the pillow, enjoying the cold feeling on your hot skin as he wipes you completely clean. He leaves for a second time to throw the towel into a laundry bin, walking back up to you and smiling softly as he watches you wrap yourself up in his blanket.

“Got some room fer me?” He drawled, chuckling softly. You open your eyes a bit, lifting your arm to welcome him. He quickly got into bed with you, shutting off his lamp as he pulled the covers over the both of you, kissing your forehead. “Okay?” He asked quietly, stroking your hair out of your face.

“Better than okay.” Your voice cracked, hoarse from all the moaning. He just breathed out softly in response, holding you into his chest.

“Y’know I wanted our first time to be special…. but ‘m not entirely upset with how this went.” He snorted, squeezing you gently. You laughed gently, lifting your head to peck his lips.

“It was special.” You argued lightly, kissing his cheek before relaxing in his arms. He looked down at you, there wasn’t much light in the room but he could still make out your features. He smiled to himself, glad that tonight happened the way it did. Nothing else was said as you both slowly succumbed to sleep.

You woke up when you felt no one beside you, panicked you sat up and looked around for Daryl. Your shoulders relaxing when you heard the sink in the bathroom, quickly getting up and slipping on your underwear along with your bra. You didn’t have any place to be so you decided to just stay here for the morning, grinning as you found one of his shirts. Bringing it up to your nose and smelling it, tobacco and his natural musk filling your senses. You put it on, blushing at the fact that you could now wear his clothes.

“Oh my god.” You turned around at the sound of Daryl’s voice, he stood there at the doorframe of the bathroom. Looking you up and down before walking up to you and wrapping his arms around your waist, “you look so gorgeous (Y/N)…” He kissed the top of your head, rocking you side to side slowly as you giggled.

“You going out?” You beamed up at him, knowing he usually wakes up early to hunt. He nodded, kissing your head again before ruffling your hair and letting you go.

“Yeah, ya should probably go get somethin’ to eat. Wouldn’ want yer pretty self to be hungry.” You giggled, nodding before turning to go upstairs. He smirked as he watched you leave, his eyes trailing over the marks on your neck. He shook his head grinning to himself as he got his gear ready.

You walked into the kitchen, looking through the fridge and grabbing some leftover food from the cookout. Jumping when you closed the door and saw Carol, “jesus fucking christ.”

“So you did fuck him on the first date.” Carol smirked at you, following you over to the table. You rolled your eyes, hiding a grin. “So are you together now? Finally? After months and months of painful interactions that I had to witness and hear about with my own two ears and eyes???”

You scoffed, opening your mouth to answer before Daryl stepped into the room.

“Mornin’.” He gruffed, waving to Carol and kissing your head before heading towards the front door. “See ya later, (Y/N)…” He looked you over once again before leaving, crossbow in hand.

You turn your head back to Carol, a light blush on your face along with a grin. “Got my answer.” She grinned.

You giggled softly, picking at your food. “It’s…. a work in progress…”

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