#(AND I HAVEN'T EVEN WRITTEN ANYTHING NEW FOR THE ONE I ALREADY HAVE)

[aettuddae]

high garden academy — chapter 58.

⟢ synopsis: a new school year begins at the high garden academy boarding school, bringing with it new students, and among them, the new center of attention for the drama-thirsty student body: the hong sisters. eunchae and her mysterious and unsympathetic older sister, daein, who oddly seem uninterested in the secrets, legends, and gossip of their new school. winter, the institution's top student, and karina, the popular girl and promising pianist, never imagined they would end up so closely involved with hong daein.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

[a/n: i haven't updated in ages so if from now on there are profile pictures/anything that changes in any way, it's because i couldn't find the previous ones]

the yu's house was gigantic, more rustic and traditional than what daein expected to find. nowadays all the houses of families with money looked like hospitals, white floors and walls, little decoration, no life. daein didn't like that kind of residences, sometimes she considered she had an old soul, and it was partly because she felt more comfortable in places like that. the high garden building seemed extremely nice and cozy, although she hated being in there, it was like a big museum where you could also live, practically a dream. the yu's house also gave her that feeling, it even reminded her a bit of her own house, although it seemed less like a medieval vampire castle.

unfortunately, daein could not inspect the home as she would like, spending time on the details and the probably expensive antique decorations, her brain was having great difficulty functioning properly, she could not concentrate either on the scenario she was in or on the numerous questions she was being asked by the couple who owned the house, stammering out answers that almost sounded coherent that she put together with the little willpower she had left based on the few words she retained. karina was doing god's work completing her sentences and making sense of them, justifying her attitude by saying she was shy or nervous. all her attention was on her own body, on the headache that seemed not to have stopped for days, the sweat that had no reason to appear as it wasn't hot enough, the nausea that hit her from time to time making her inspect the place to identify the quickest way to the bathroom in case she had to vomit. of course, some of that could be caused by lack of sleep since she hadn't rested well in the past three days, and she didn't even feel like thinking about the heat that invaded her chest every time she had to suppress the urge to yell at karina to shut up since lately she couldn't stand anyone, least of all her, or having to avoid rushing the girl's father who spoke extremely slowly.

daein was a complicated person, bitter to say the least, but this was already getting out of hand. she was never someone who lost her patience so quickly, although it could be because of her physical discomfort which was also a particularity of this stage of her addiction.

but she didn't use strong substances, did it make sense for her to feel this way? maybe she was just sick.

of course it didn't matter because she had to stay sober for...

for some reason she couldn't remember.

jennie? this dinner? sehun? oh, eunchae. she had to do it for eunchae. was it for eunchae at all? why was she putting her body through this? nevermind, there had to be some good reason, it was probably for eunchae, wasn't it?

still, she did know why she couldn't think straight, one thing being karina's hand resting on her lower back as they both sat on an elegant sofa in a corner of a room specifically dedicated to tea. her other hand rested on her leg, while with the one her parents couldn't see the girl pinched daein's skin as if trying to wake her up or nag her for her erratic behavior. the younger one disguised her correctives with displays of love and hong was not fascinated by either.

"aeinie." she hated that nickname with all her might, but she still turned to look at her. "do you want to see the piano?" the girl's expression at the suggestion of that was somewhat frightening, like when as a child you got reprimanded by your teacher and she had to disguise the anger so as not to lose her friendly image, but only achieved a hybrid that scared you more.

"will you play for me?" she asked expressionlessly, she didn't know what the fuck was happening to her body, but that karina played the piano she did remember, idiot.

the blackhaired faked a tender expression, dropping her shoulders and her eyebrows, she moved closer, and gave a kiss on her cheek. "sure, i'll play something for you." she agreed, standing up and extending her hand to her.

"food will be ready soon, go and we'll let you know." announced the girl's father as daein grabbed onto her to get up, they both nodded slightly.

"what did you consume?" sentenced with a forceful tone the youngest whispering when they were already a little bit away from her family.

"nothing." she was at a loss, the words seemed to come out of her mouth at random.

"daein." she shot her an accusatory look.

"i didn't use anything." she reiterated. "that's why i'm like this." she explained after letting out a drawn-out sigh. "but it will pass." rather than trying to calm karina down, she seemed to be trying to convince herself.

she looked her up and down, finding the sweat on her neck and recalling having seen somewhere that this must be a symptom of abstinence, although she wasn't sure. because of the state she was in, she had no choice but to believe her. daein was usually lost and didn't make much sense, but at this moment she was worse, even anguished, anxious, which was rare to see in her. she hoped her parents hadn't noticed from across the coffee table.

without saying more, she walked over, leading her with her clasped hands, approaching the long, elegant brown grand piano with lines effect, there being some darker ones, indicating it was macassar ebony wood. karina took a seat first on the stool that was wide enough for daein to enter as well, so this one followed the younger girl's steps and sat with her.

"do you know anything about piano?" the expert inquired putting her hands on the keys and stroking some of them creating a vague ephemeral sound.

"my mom plays the piano." she commented, her eyes inspecting the instrument. "she's not professional or anything, but she plays sometimes."

"you appreciate your mom a lot." she observed.

"isn't that what all children do?" she said with obviousness.

"i guess." she cocked her head to the side as if that would help her think her words better. "my mom tends to get overshadowed by my dad's presence." she mumbled in fear of being overheard.

"i understand." agreed the older one. "mine too."

"i see we have something in common." she smiled sideways, victorious.

"unfortunately." she grumbled, grimacing in disappointment. "but she's still my mother, you know." she continued.

"no, of course, i know what you're talking about." she sat up in the seat. "if mom wasn't around i think i'd go crazy." she laughed softly.

"bonding with parents must be more complicated when you hardly see them during the year." daein assumed, turning her head to give her a look.

"yes." she shook her head accompanying the statement. "since i've been attending high garden since i was little, there are teachers i've seen more these past few years than my father." she admitted with a downcast attitude. "i'm sure most of my baby teeth are in some jar in teacher jeon's office." they both laughed at the image. "hey! i made you laugh!" celebrated the younger exalted girl.

"it doesn't count, i'm dying." she stopped her, causing her to pout.

silence fell over the place and before allowing it to become uncomfortable, jimin began to play a piece on the piano, her fingers strolling comfortably across the keys as if she had no bones to constrain her. it was a rather slow melody, but still complicated, daein watched her hands without understanding how someone so young could have such ease in playing such a complex instrument. it wasn't melancholic, it sounded like a summer ballad, positive, hong had no idea what song it was, but she was mesmerized, it was the first time all day she could pay attention to anything.

slowly karina's fingers paused as she played the last few notes until the lack of sound returned to the room, but far from discomforting, it represented a missing of words. daein hated wanting to compliment her on her talent, but she had to admit she had loved it.

"you're good." she criticized. "very good."

"it's one of the works i'm supposed to play at the korean music contest." she reported casually. "i should do well." she sounded a little pressured and it made sense, not just anyone was representing one of the most prestigious schools in the country in the most important national music contest among students. "did you learn anything from your mother?" she removed her hands giving daein room to play.

"little, actually." she directed her hands to the piano and hesitantly pressed several keys without much sense, according to the blackhaired she was trying to play a rather messy version of ode to joy.

realizing that she didn't remember what the song was like at all and noticing the horrified look on the pianist's face next to her, daein preferred to stop trying, generating some sympathy in the girl next to her, who with a confident smile stood up and walked to stand behind her, leaning a little until she could reach her hands, her chest resting against daein's back and their cheeks just a few inches away from brushing against each other. she positioned daein again on the keys and began to guide her so that at a leisurely pace, but not as awkward as before, she could play the song she had attempted.

what irony hong daein playing the ode to joy.

daein was using all her energies to focus, if there was something that moved her it was the need to complete things and do them well, and maybe that was one of the causes of her deep sorrow, not being able to do anything right in this last time of her life. she couldn't even stand the discomfort she felt at the lack of doping. she followed karina's indications as well as her condition allowed, failing in some notes, skipping others, but in general sounding as she should, which must have been all the responsibility of her puppeteer.

with some difficulty the song ended, a small smile on both faces, one out of pride at having completed the piece no matter how easy it was or how many mistakes she had made, and the other because she was distractedly enjoying the closeness with the older one. neither having noticed that they came even closer than before, completely entangled with each other, their cheeks pressed against the opposite, jimin's arms almost embracing daein from behind. the blackhaired moved her head slightly so that her nose could rub hong's cheek, closing her eyes to enjoy the fact that she wasn't moving away, nodding her head slightly up and down. she lifted her hands from the piano and used them to hold onto her neck completely, wrapping her in her grip.

daein let herself be carried away by the tender gestures, and leaned her head more and more towards her own shoulder, following karina's touch, her eyelids drooping and preventing her from seeing that this was the same girl who used to drive her crazy all the time. her face was predisposed to the younger girl, who now that they were facing each other was caressing her nose with her own.

after all daein was not in her five senses and was someone who would do anything for a simple token of affection,

so she didn't stop jimin when this one captured her lips between hers, slowly, delicately, more than a kiss it was caresses between their mouths, with trouble to detach, to cut the touch. karina always wanted more of daein, once she kissed her, she couldn't stop thinking about doing it again, so being like this with her felt fulfilling, and more exciting than kissing anyone else she'd ever done it with before.

she didn't understand why, but no one seemed to have such soft lips as daein, and no scent was as satisfying to be smothered by as daein's was. she was such a cruel person, she rarely showed any pity for her, but when she kissed her no one was as tender as daein.

needless to say, she was exaggerated and restlessly obsessed with hong daein.

their mouths were entwined, daein's hands had risen to hold and attend to jimin's resting on her collarbone, their tongues were just now wanting to meet, but they never got to. "jiminie, the food-" the housemaid suddenly came in interrupting them. "oh, sorry." she covered her cheeks in embarrassment with amusement on her face, the two younger girls looked at her uncomfortably, separating immediately. "the food is ready."

(!)

— taglist [open] : @yoontoonwhs @gayforalll @hwm1hyun @jisooftme @gornoi @eunhhh @petruchiosstuff @linnnsworld @xen248 @trueblumarinegf @rinapomu @imahallucination11 @thefckghost @myouiiiiiiii @blaymine @chaewoni3 @aliceiwk @gfriendsapple @sewiouslyz @multiliker @cwpiqwon @pandafuriosa60

[anabetel35]

Going Crazy over Vania/Harumi again. Especially Harumi's-redemtpion-arc Vania/Harumi.

Harumi who spent most of her life either acting or being driven by her hatered and anger alone. Who reached a point in her (second) life where she doesn't need to act because there is no one to decieve and where her anger has no clear target. Where she doesn't have anyone to devote herself to, to base her entire being on. A ruler of nothing but herself, with more strength than she can handle.

Vania who spent so much of her life being true to herself and acting with love and care towards everyone who came her way and didn't strike first. Who looked on as her only remaining family tried to kill her heroes, terrorized two whole nations and then tried to take over the world. Who was cast into a life where she has no one to fall back on by her side and a kingdom with twice as many people as it did during her father's rule and twice as many problems, too. A ruler of so many with so few rescources and even less experience.

Harumi who lost her family to an evil beyond the control of the ninja and who chose to pin the blame on humans and not destiny -- on beings that she knew that she could hurt if she only tried hard enough.

Vania who lost what little she had left of her family to an evil beyond the control of the ninja and who chose to pin the blame on evil itself, her father, destiny -- anything and everything, just so that she wouldn't end up hurting anyone who didn't deserve it at all.

Harumi who spent so much of her life actively choosing to hate.

Vania who spent so much of her life actively trying to love.

And then they meet. Both princesses. Both sure that they should despise each other, because they stand (or stood) for opposite things.

But then Vania's reluctant attempts at only partially judging Harumi for what she did, at being polite but not mean, turn into being kind and a bit smitten. Harumi's determination to become a good person (or someone who does some good, at least) drives her into appreaciating Vania, slowly but surely placing her on the same pedestal that she devoted to the Overlord and Garmadon before him.

Vania, raised by a single father, lonely upon an ivory throne of problems, starts to fall for the girl who gives her advice on managing a population. Who reminds her that she needs to rest in order to be as strong as she possibly can. Who teaches her to have a steady hand, somehting that she might need help with sometimes.

Harumi, someone who's never let herself be properly liked by someone so real, a love so true as Vania's, begins to adore the girl that teaches her how to be a teenager even despite their postions -- even despite the fact that one of them is a queen and the other is the ex-right hand of two evil overlords. The girl that doesn't hesitate to communicate how she feels. That offers Harumi a shoulder to lean on.

[bawdybooster]

While I've got it on my mind right now, I'd also like to post some more artwork I commissioned... oh god I got these six months ago.

These art pieces were picked up from RingedR on Twitter featuring Batgirl and his OC Street Viper (who's often paired up with her), both in and out of Uniform. I'd intended to write up a story for both of these, but only got around to one so... ANYWAY HERE IT IS

---

Barbara’s life had been utterly miserable.  Crime in Burnside had been on the rise for the past few weeks, her old injuries from the Joker were acting up, her Class Finals were rearing their ugly head — everything seemed to be batting up for a perfect hit of stress and frustration upon her life.  She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a good night’s sleep!

So when her Naga Girlfriend Pranjal offered to grant her a reprieve from the world and let her relax for just a moment, Barbara was… hesitant, to say the least.

“That sounds wonderful, Praj,” she sighed, “But I really can’t afford to step away from my work right now.  Give me till Finals are done, and then we can talk about it.”

An indignant hiss filled Barbara’s bedroom at the sound of the thought.  The green-eyed naga eyed her love with a concoction of sympathy and frustration.  “Oh no, little bat,” she scowled, “You need a rest now.  All of this can wait.”

“It really can’t Pra–”

“What time did you eat today?”

Barbara thought hard.  Never a good sign.

“At… Seven?”

“Morning or Evening?”

The redhead gulped.  She honestly didn’t know.

“Um… Well, I–”

Barbara’s train of thought was interrupted as a coil of green scales saddled itself around her waist and lifted her up out of her chair.  Pranjal tutted at her love, taking a seat on the desk Barbara was once seated at.  “You need to take better care of yourself, and that, little bat, starts with a good rest.”

“I’m fine, Pranjal!”  Barbara cried, pushing at the coil hugging her so comfortably.  “Really!  There’s no need to… to…”  Barbara faltered, finding herself hunched over at eye-level with Pranjal’s exposed midriff, the Naga’s green crop-top leaving one of her best features exposed for her love.  Those toned muscles were a perfect vortex for her exhausted mind, drawing her eyes toward Pranjal’s navel and the chain of emerald jewels hanging from it.  Barbara averted her eyes from the sight, a deep red blush rolling over her cheeks.

“…Don’t tell me you wore that just for this.”  She murmured with a hint of embarrassment.

“I did, my love,” Pranjal soothed.  “I know what you like just as much as you need.  And you need to rest that heavy head of yours…” She winked playfully at her caught girlfriend, giving the coil around her redheaded love a gentle squeeze.  “And I know jussst how to do that~”

Barbara perked up at a tapping sound.  She turned her gaze to Pranjal’s left hand, the rhythmic thrum of her fingers tapping methodically against the table.  Soothingly.  Hypnotically.  She shut her eyes tight, turning away from the temptation surrounding her.

“Please, Pranjal…” the redhead murmured, “I need to… need to focus on–”

“Focus on what, dear?”  Pranjal teased, a coy grin spread across her lips.  “Focus on the thrumming of my fingers as they gently guide your mind down to their rhythm?  My lustrous tail slowly wrapping its way around your aching body?  Or my wonderful midriff which you love to look at so much?”

A second coil wrapped its way down from Barbara’s waist, hugging tenderly around her hips.  The redhead stifled a moan crawling up her throat, a whimper of desire dripping out her lips.  It was true that turning her focus away from her work and onto Pranjal did seem to be relieving her of her stress.  And it all felt so relaxing… that rhythmic thrumming, those coils holding her legs so closely, that ever-tempting midriff…

A quick glance couldn’t hurt, right?  Just a moment to take in the sight of her love, and then back to her work.  She could take her time to adore her girlfriend when she was done with Finals and not studying like a madwoman.

An empty hand graced her cheek, coaxing Barbara with the temptation to come out and play.  One eye opened wearily, glancing a peek at Pranjal’s beauty.  Oh, what a sight she was to look upon.

But she couldn’t admire her for long — Pranjal’s hand took to Barbara’s chin, holding her gently as she lifted her face to look up at her love.

“No,” the Naga soothed, “You don’t need to focus on those right now…”

Barbara gasped at the beautiful, mesmeric sight before her.

“All you need to focus on… is my eyes~”

Barbara gulped as her vision was caught in a storm of twisting spirals.  Pranjal’s eyes pulsed with hypnotic bliss, shining in ring after ring of lovely light and dashing dark green.  They pulsed and bellowed to the same rhythm as Pranjal’s fingers, thrumming and beating into her eyes with rhythmic precision.  With each measure, they descended upon Barbara’s mind, briefly granting a reprieve for but a moment before starting their march again.  And again.  And again.

Green swept over Barbara’s sleep-deprived mind, surrounding her in those colors that reminded her all too well of her girlfriend and her lovely image.  Green spirals wrapped snugly over her vision, washing over her own eyes until they mirrored nothing but Pranjal’s beautiful gaze.  Dark Green in one eye, Light Green in the other.  Starting from her pupils and pouring out into ribbons of dazzling entrancement as Light Green replaced Dark and Dark Green replaced Light one after another.

Something curled over the redhead’s lips for the first time in what had to have been ages — a smile.  Not just some idle, passive twinkle but a full, joyful grin of hypnotic pleasure that seemed to stretch from ear to ear.  One that thought not of crime or classwork or aching pains but of blissful relaxation.  Barbara’s mind was empty of all thoughts but the pure ecstatic peace brought to her by her love.

As Pranjal’s eyes slowed from their serpentine entrancement, her coils gave a comforting squeeze around Barbara’s body, their bulk now wrapped from her waist down to her feet.  The tip of her tail flicked up Barbara’s shirt, revealing her midriff to her delight.  The Naga giggled at the sight of it — she loved everything about Barbara, from her freckles to her hair to the way she seemed so cute when she got angry, but even she had to admit to having a personal taste for how she stayed fit.

“You know, you’re so pretty when you let yourself relax Babs~”  She cooed in her ear.

“Pretty… relax…”  Barbara grinned blissfully.

Pranjal’s coils slowly began to lift Barbara to stand her straight, her redheaded body laying blissfully pliant and relaxed within their grasp.  Her tail stood her up, but as it relaxed its grip Barbara stumbled and leaned forward, smiling blissfully all the while.  The coils jumped into action, holding her steady as Pranjal balanced her love’s delicate chin on her finger.

Pranjal giggled at the sight of her.  “You must be so tired after all that hard work,” she hissed with delight “Aren’t you, my little bat?”

“So… Tired…” Barbara repeated.  She liked the sound of that, especially hearing it from her love.

“You must be so desperate to Sleep, my love.  So eager to Sleep and let slumber occupy your thoughts.”

Barbara’s wide eyes of green began to settle, half-lidded and slowly succumbing to thoughts of rest.  Sleeping sounded so good to her.  She wanted nothing more than to sleep.  To let Pranjal guide her down into sleep.  “Sleep…” she murmured emptily, a yawn rising up from her throat as a coil of green scales wound its way over her chest.

“Yes~”  Pranjal assured her.  “Think of nothing but Sleep.  Let your mind relax and unwind under my watchful eye.  You want nothing more than to Sleep~”

“I want… to… to…”  Barbara trailed off, her eyes fluttering down into restful slumber.  As blissful sleep put her thoughts and worries to rest, Pranjal gave a soft smile at the sight of her love bound in her coils.

She slithered over to Barbara’s bed, lifting the sheets before laying Barbara gently inside.  She gave one last reassuring hug with her coils before slowly unwinding herself from her girlfriend’s body.  As the last few inches of her tail left the bed, she pulled the sheets over Barbara and tucked her in, kissing her gently goodnight.

…but not without whispering something in her ear.

“When you wake tomorrow,”  Pranjal whispered, “You will want to do nothing but relax with me for the day~”

Barbara sighed at the thought.  An entire day to relax with her girlfriend sounded quite lovely indeed~

[weakformingyu]

Everything has changed | H.J.

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader

Summary: in a game party you find out that your friend, Jisung, might have a crush on you and after that night you might have developed a crush on him too.

Warnings: Han is a loser, awkwardness, jealousy, pool sex 💅🏻, pussy eating, unprotected piv(don't do this at home), a bit of handjob.

Words count: ±3,400

THIS CONTENT IS FOR +18 PEOPLE ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!!!!!

A/N: I have some weird ass writers block right now(have been like this for months 😭) but I'm not dead, I'm still alive and thinking about a hundred fics a day, I just don't seem to manage to write them 🤓☝🏻 anyways, this fic was inspired in this post because Han Jisung got some crazy biceps going on here and I'm on my biceps biting era soooo 💅🏻(don't come for me if it's trashy, I haven't written in a hundred years)

If you like my writing don't forget to reblog, comment and like too. xoxo love yall

“What do you think about Jisung?” Was the question Changbin asked when you chose truth in the game of truth or dare you were playing.

You smile sheepishly as all the boys stare at you excitedly and the girls have a little smirk on their lips, as if everyone knows something you don't.

“Hm, he's nice”, you shrug.

“You know that's not what he meant”, Ryujin says, raising a brow.

“Well, then be more specific”, you roll your eyes.

“Would you fuck him?” Karina asks, making the whole group gasp with her bluntness. Your eyes dart to Jisung, who's as red as a tomato, his bottom lips are stuck between his teeth while he stares at you anxiously.

“That's- I never thought about that, so I'm not sure”, you answer nervously. Seeing Jisung’s shoulders go down and a pout form in his lips.

“Then, there's your answer”, Karina shrugs, turning the bottle so someone else can go.

You were being truthful, you never thought about your friend in that way. You know he's handsome but you always avoid having second intentions with someone so close to you because you don't want to lose a friendship.

However, after that day and after seeing Jisung's reaction to your answer, you can't shake the feeling that maybe he's into you. You constantly catch his gaze lingering on you, when you guys are alone he keeps stuttering and even when your other friends are around, he treats you differently from them.

A few weekends after that night, Chan invites everyone to a get together in his house so everyone's going to sleep there after. Karina, Ryujin and Lia stop by your house in the early afternoon to get you so you can all go to Chan's together. When you get there, the guys are in the pool playing some sort of game, Felix and Changbin are on top of two floats, fighting while Minho is attacking Changbin with his water gun and Jisung is in the middle of both.

You stop in your tracks, watching as Jisung holds Changbins thighs, his biceps are deliciously showing and flexing as the older man falls out of the float and the younger one catches him, grabbing his bottom slightly but you can't help but wish you could be the one being grabbed by him like that.

Yes, you weren't lying that night when you said you had never thought about Jisung in that way. The problem is, that after you did, you couldn't stop. Everything he did from that night onwards caught your attention. His eyes on you, his lips, the way he smirks when someone says something dirty and he thinks no one's paying attention. The way every piece of fabric he wears hugs his body like it was made just for him. Your girlfriends are already onto you, they know something is off and they have the feeling that you finally opened your eyes to the puppy in love in your group of friends, but they decided not to say anything for now, afraid that they are going to scare you off and make you bury your new found attraction for Jisung deep in your heart, afraid to ruin your friendship.

You shake your head, listening to what the others are talking while you go inside to put your things in the guestroom Chan has prepared for you.

You spend the afternoon mostly just sunbathing while observing the guys joking around and other people arrive little by little taking your attention away from the pool.

While you eat, you can't help but notice a blonde laughing too loudly, catching your attention. She pushes Jisung playfully, throwing her head back, making you huff annoyed, you're sure what he said isn't even that funny.

“I'm gonna get some more beer, does anyone want something from the kitchen?” Jisung gets up, asking around.

“I'll help”, the blonde smiles, following him after some people ask for their beverage of choice and your eyes linger on his figure, as he walks away with the beautiful girl.

“Oh, y/n, can you get some more napkins for us?” Ryujin asks. You frown, you're sure you just saw a mountain of napkins somewhere but you have no idea where it went as you look around and can't find it.

“Sure”, you nod, getting up to go to the kitchen.

As soon as you enter the house you can hear the giggles coming from the kitchen. You take a deep breath trying to gather the courage to go inside and see something you're not sure you want to.

The girl is close to Jisung, too close for her own good, attached to his arm, practically hanging on to him. You scowl, feeling the blood in your body boiling, if you weren't sure about your feelings for your friend, you are damn sure now seeing as you're basically foaming at the mouth with the view right in front of you.

Jisungs gaze lands on you immediately when you enter the kitchen, his eyes grow wide and he takes a step back, detaching himself from the girl.

“Am I interrupting?” You ask, knowing well that you are and ignoring the glare the blonde gives you.

“Ye-” she tries to say, but is cut off by the man whose gaze hasn't left your figure since the moment you arrived.

“No”, he gulps, “what are you looking for?” Jisung asks.

“Napkins”, you say, tilting your head and leaning over the counter. Your elbows rest on the surface, purposely bringing attention to your chest.

“Just a minute”, Jisung gulps, turning around and opening the fridge. He takes out four cans of beer and gives it to the blonde. “You can go back first, I'll bring the rest in a minute”

She looks at him for a whole 10 seconds, stunned and then huffs, marching out of there.

“Your girlfriend is lovely”, you tease him, walking around the counter to get closer to him.

“She's not my girlfriend”, he laughs sheepishly, “we were just talking”

“I'm sure you were”, you say sarcastically and stare at him for a moment. “So? The napkins?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah! Yeah! Here”, he says, turning around to open the door to the cabinet on top of the sink.

Jisung’s arms look especially strong when he's flexing like that to pull the packages, it's something so mundane but it makes you blush the same way. He closes the door after and hands the products to you. “I'm going to get the beer for the others and follow you in a moment”

You nod, realizing that everything is different now that you know that you like your friend. You like Han Jisung.

You wake up the next morning feeling like shit, you tossed and turned in your bed until you finally fell asleep. You thought about all the things that could go wrong now that you liked one of your friends. What if things didn't work out between you two, you're sure it would cause a rift on your friend group.

Most people went home after midnight, Chan lets only his close friends crash in his house so you know everyone that stayed the night. Lia is by your side, yapping about what you're planning to do in the afternoon while you bite into your bread and try to not freak out when Jisung shows up in the living room. You keep avoiding his eyes, like you're guilty of something, and you definitely are, guilty of liking one of your friends.

In the afternoon you go out with Ryujin, Felix and Hyunjin, you all wanna walk around in the city and buy some clothes you definitely don't need. In the car you stare outside, your friends notice you're dozing around but prefer to wait for you to tell them if something is wrong.

After buying a new bikini, you just accompany your friends in their shopping spree. When you have no more room in the car for any more bags, you finally sit to get something to eat and while you wait for your order, you seize the opportunity to ask what's been on your mind in the last hour.

“Does Jisung like me?” You ask, you want to be sure that he doesn't want to just sleep with you.

“Where did that come from?” Felix frowns.

“That night I was asked if I would sleep with him”, you blush, “I was just wondering if he likes me or just finds me attractive”

Below the table, your fingers are pressing and scratching one another, you're nervous.

“I thought it was pretty obvious”, Hyunjin says, shrugging and getting elbowed by Felix.

“I don't think we are supposed to talk about that”, the younger one smiles awkwardly.

“Oh, please. It's not like the guy has made any effort to keep it a secret”, Ryujin rolls her eyes. “Clearly y/n likes him, that's why she wants to know”, your friend completes, laughing as your eyes grow wide. “It's not like you are making any effort to hide it either”

“Yes, he likes you”, Hyunjin says, ignoring Felix’s worries, “but he was very disheartened after that night when you said you never thought about him in that way”

‘It's a lie, but you don't need to know that’, he thinks to himself. Hyunjin is much more experienced in the love field, opposite to you and Jisung, so he knows you just need a little push for things to start working out and he doesn't mind being the one shoving you to each other.

“Oh”, that's all you can say.

That means maybe he doesn't like you anymore, right? That girl from the other night was very pretty, maybe she's his new type. She looked very girly and soft, you don't know if you would be considered any of that. Most importantly, she was clearly interested in him, maybe he wants to go after someone who doesn't reject him in front of everyone he knows.

You toss and turn once more in bed, Ryujin is sleeping right next to you and you're afraid of waking her up because you can't sleep. Your mind is so full of thoughts, a million per hour and you just can't stop thinking about how you ruined everything with the guy you like.

Even with the AC turned on, you're still hot and since you don't want to wake up anyone, you silently grab your bikini, putting it on before going to the pool.

You didn't expect to find Jisung there, he's just floating in the water with a pout on his lips and eyes closed, maybe he fell asleep?

You sit comfortably on the edge of the pool, putting only your feet in the water and watching Jisung. After a few minutes of complete stillness, the man opens his eyes, taking a deep breath and sinking into the water.

He comes back a few seconds later, back turned to you and you can't help but watch him. His back is muscular, broad shoulders with a tiny waist. When he turns around, he flinches, seeing you there, staring at him.

“I didn't mean to scare you”, you chuckle.

“It's fine”, he scratches the back of his head, “I thought I was the only one still awake”

“It's really hot, I couldn't sleep”, you say, it's not the whole truth but you're not sure if you want him to know that he's the reason you're still wide awake.

He nods, awkwardly looking around while his hands play with the water. Since that game, you both have been feeling weird near each other, you for discovering these new emotions towards your friend and him for being embarrassed that you knew about his one sided crush.

‘Maybe it's worth it’, you think to yourself. He already risked it all when he let you know about his crush, it's not the end of the world if he doesn't like you anymore, you just have to ask.

“About that night…”, you ask out of nowhere with a courage you have no idea where it came from. “Do you still like me?”

Jisung opens his mouth a few times, closing it right after, not knowing what to say. He takes a deep breath before answering.

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything”, he sighs.

“Do you still like me?” You frown, repeating your question.

“Yeah, I do”, he shrugs, embarrassed.

“I never thought about you that way before”, you say, seeing the pout growing in his lips, “but after that night I kinda did”

Jisung stares at you for a minute before speaking again.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I like you back”, you feel your whole face heating while you wait for him to react. You both are still far from each other, Jisung in the middle of the pool while you're at the edge. His eyes grow wide and his lips open like he has something to say but doesn't know how.

He starts coming close to you, your heart beating faster as the distance between you both lessens, until the man stops in front of you, his hands landing on each side of your thighs but still not touching.

“Can you repeat that?” He blushes, “I don't want you to say you like me back just because you pity me”, he bites on his bottom lip and you smile. You cup his face with your hands, bending down so you can kiss him. His lips are soft and he tastes good, sweet, like something you would never get tired of. His hands finally touch your skin, sliding to your thighs and squeezing the plushy flesh.

“If you knew me at all, you'd know I would never lie about liking someone”, you let go of him, smiling and giving him a peck before growing the distance between your faces.

“I just really like you”, he blushes, biting his bottom lip, finally letting his gaze travel down your body, going through your tits pushed up by the bikini top and going down your stomach, until it reaches your bikini bottom, his hands squeezing your thighs even more to the view of your body in front of him.

“Is that so?” You smirk, “show me then”, you smile, bending down to whisper in his ear. “Show me how much you like me”

Jisung doesn't waste any time, grabbing your face with only one hand and squeezing your cheeks, kissing you harshly. His other hand slides up, pulling the strings of your bikini bottom so he can untie the bow. He pulls away from you, leaving kisses down your neck, he has his hand down on your pussy, putting on a finger and watching your reaction to it.

You moan, grinding your hips against his hand so you can feel him deeper. Jisung has his mouth slightly opened, dazed with the little whimpers you let out when he adds another finger inside you. Your hands go instantly to his shoulders, nails burying in his skin while his other hand unties the top of your bikini, freeing your tits. Jisung watches them bounce with his bottom lip stuck between his teeth. He can't help himself, coming closer, his mouth closing on your left breast, his tongue playing with your nipple, making you moan.

His thumb slides to your clit and you bite on your bottom lip, trying not to make too much noise — at least not more than you're already making.

The man smiles, kissing down your stomach, getting closer to your pussy and you can feel his breath hitting the skin, making you tremble.

He licks a stripe between your folds, your hands fly to his hair pulling the locks. Jisung's hands slide to your thighs, pulling you more to the edge of the pool. Putting your legs over his shoulders and grabbing your ass so he can eat you out more intensely.

He looks like a man starved, the way he groans and moans just by feeling your taste. Jisung is so turned on he could come just by feeling your tight pussy in his mouth. The sounds you make are divine, he can't believe he gets to hear you like this, because of him, just for him.

“I- I'm gonna-”, you can't even finish your sentence, moaning the moment you try to say more than three words.

“Come for me, baby”, he stops eating you out just to say it, going back to work as soon as the words leave his mouth, he stares at you intensely from down there, working even harder and making you come undone in his mouth.

You take a few deep breaths, eyes closed. You can't believe how good he's at this and it also makes you a bit jealous, how did he get so good?

You watch as the man cleans around his mouth with his thumb, immediately taking the finger to his mouth to lick it clean and you hold the moan that wants to escape your mouth.

“Do you want to keep going?” He asks, not expecting you to but hoping that you do.

You nod, untying the other side of your bikini bottom, throwing the piece of fabric behind you.

You take Jisung's hands in yours, guiding them to your waist as you push yourself into the water. The man holds you, kissing your lips as soon as you are close enough to him. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your thighs when he pulls you towards him, wanting to feel your body on his and you can feel the heat growing all over your body again.

You slide your hand inside his shorts, grabbing his dick and making him whimper in your mouth. You bite on his bottom lip, your hand makes movements of back and forth, making Jisung bend down and bite your shoulder, trying to suppress his moan. You groan, it feels good having him so close to you, marking you as his.

You pull his shorts down all the way down, pushing yourself up and wrapping your legs around his hips. Jisung grabs his cock, rubbing his tip on your entrance, slightly teasing your clit.

“Are you sure about this?” He groans, trying to control himself, “after this I won't let you go”

You nod, closing your eyes in anticipation.

“Words”, he whispers, barely being able to hold himself back.

“Fuck.me.now”, you say with gritted teeth, opening your eyes to stare at him, holding onto his shoulders when he finally enters you.

You feel like heaven when he's inside you, your velvet walls tightening around him make him groan.

“Shit”, he cusses, biting on his bottom lip. “You're so hot”, he gets closer, kissing you deeply. His lips are so soft, you could never get over it.

Jisung starts thrusting, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you closer, fucking you deeper.

Your hands slide to his hair, pulling the locks while his lips go down your neck. He bites on your skin, sucking the area until it's red and you're sure it's gonna leave a mark. One of his hands goes to your clit, rubbing the bud, making you get closer to your climax.

“I'm close”, he says, his thrusts faster and his fingers working diligently.

“I'm close too”, you say, kissing him, feeling his thrusts getting sloppier. You feel the hot liquid being spilled inside you, but he doesn't stop. Jisung keeps going, putting more pressure into your clit until you're trembling around him. He whimpers in your mouth, his hips faltering and both of your breaths growing tired.

He rests his head on your shoulder for a few seconds, before moving away from you, staring at you like you're going to fight him and run off.

“I guess you like me a lot”, you smirk, watching him blush and smile.

“Do you wanna go out with me?” He asks, biting on his bottom lip.

“I thought you'd never ask”, you smile, giving him a peck on the lips. “I even already have the reason for our first fight”, you raise one brow, laughing as his eyes grow wide.

“What?”

“You are going to have to explain to me how you got so good at eating pussy”, you tease and he smiles.

“I guess I'm just a natural”, he shrugs, making you shake your head in amusement and kiss him.

You could get used to this, you definitely can.

[reilemon]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊Cool Off₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

♡︎ pairing: Zayne x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: unprotected sex (oops), office sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, I think that's it?

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ synopsis: what to do when you "accidentally" flash your doctor?

♡︎ a/n: I haven't written smut in like three years. So if you think my writing is cringe, just keep scrolling idk.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎ @its-de ♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

You finally have a day off and you want to use this free time to run errands. However, it's also a hot summer day and you need to dress accordingly. After cleaning your apartment and stocking up your fridge, you have -

meet up with your friend

shop for some new summer clothes and bed sheets

doctor’s appointment

You'd just skip the last one because you feel fine, even during the hot weather.

But you know damn well Dr Zayne will not be pleased with you if you do that. And he's not only your doctor now (and a childhood friend), but an actual friend who you spend most of your free time with. Circumstances of him being your assigned physician, some other stuff that happened in the last few months, brought you so much closer that you couldn't help but develop a huge crush on him. And how could you not when he's so kind, warm, attentive, always makes time for you, funny in his own way... you could spend the whole day thinking of all the stuff that makes you want to be more than friends.

Actually, you might be more than just friends. Lately, you’ve been going on a lot of “dates”; visiting festivals, trying new restaurants but also frequenting your favorite ones, dragging him to the arcade… he’s started insisting on being the one to drop you off at home after a night out. Just a couple of weeks ago when you were sick, he came to your place and took care of you. Both of you ended up falling asleep on your bed watching your comfort movie – actually, he wanted to read his book but ended up invested in the plot and eventually fell asleep before you, tired from his shift and nursing you back to health. You had enough strength to get up to pull out a freshly washed blanket from the closet and cover him. You lied back down, finding comfort in watching Zayne’s peaceful sleeping face. That’s how you fell asleep.

The next morning you found yourself waking up on Zayne’s chest, your form enveloping his. He was gently stroking your back, waiting for you to open your eyes. You don’t know whether you were the one that latched onto him during the night, or if he’s the one that pulled you in; nonetheless, it felt surreal to wake up like this. You looked up into his beautiful hazel green eyes, and you just shared a moment of pure intimacy. Then you got self-conscious of him having a close up of your morning face, which made you immediately jump from the bed and sprint to the bathroom. So, he did manage to nurse you back to health in one day.

You really wish he made the first move already. With all the stolen glances, lingering touches, cuddling, you genuinely think he feels the same way. But you are also his patient, so maybe he feels uncomfortable starting anything, like he’s crossing a boundary and abusing his position as your physician? Maybe he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Or maybe you’re just delusional and ovulating.

Okay, back to the present. You’re not going to pass up the opportunity to see your crush (this is more than just a crush, honestly) and you add one more task to the list

get some dessert for Zayne

And you want to look cute for him, so you opt for your new backless summer dress.

☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊☃︎⋆⁺₊

“Thank fuck, I look okay.” You murmur as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom of Zayne's office.

It's just before 8pm, your scheduled checkup. Both of you were too busy to hang out for more than a week, and you can’t wait to see him. You took this opportunity to leave the heavy shopping bags on the sofa, the bag with dessert on his desk, and quickly freshen up in the bathroom. It was so hot today, still is, but thanks to the dress you didn't sweat that much.

You exit the bathroom the same time he enters the office. You catch how his usually stern gaze behind his glasses softens at the sight of you.

“Hey!” You don’t waste any time and shorten the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck giving him a peck on the cheek.

Zayne’s hands stiffly hover over your waist, stunned by the enthusiastic greeting. You always have a big smile on your face when you see him, but you’re only this forward when you have some alcohol in your system. He doesn’t smell it on your breath now though.

“Did you miss me that much, or are you trying to coax me to skip the check up?”

You pull away with a pout and a blush on your cheeks. Feeling a little embarrassed, you go and sit on a chair across his desk, steering the conversation towards the dessert you brought him.

With an entertained smirk, he sat on his chair and indulged in just chatting with you, and making plans for the evening. He feels at ease now that you’re here.

Zayne cuts the conversation short to take care of some paperwork, so you entertain yourself with your phone, checking what cafes are open. You sit there in silence, not wanting to disturb him. The room is air-conditioned and you would think you'd start to cool down, but it's impossible to do so when your crush is right across you. You try to focus on your phone but your eyes keep darting between the screen and Zayne’s handsome focused features…his hand holding the pen… his long fingers...

“You need to ask me something?” Zayne peers over his glasses.

Busted!

For like a hundredth time.

You fidget in your seat. “Um, no. I don’t wanna disturb you.”

He closes a file and puts papers aside. “I’m done. Go ahead.”

You make up how you wanted to ask him if he wanted to visit the café on your screen, only to for him to point out it’s closed when you show it to him. Not smooth at all.

You nervously scratch your back, and that when it hits you. You didn't wear a bra today!

In your defense, of course you're not going to wear a bra with the backless dress and when it's so hot outside, and it would be okay if this was just a hangout, but the main reason why you're here is because of the check up! Well, now you're getting even more flustered and you can feel nervous sweat forming everywhere. Great.

Zayne's voice fades into focus.

"Is everything okay?"

“Yeah, let’s just go find a cafe that’s nearby!” You prop yourself to sit up and make a run for it, but the seriousness in Zayne’s tone stops you.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

You wave your hand “I feel great, you don't need to -"

"That's good to hear." He humors you, setting the stethoscope around his neck, eyes not leaving yours.

You engage in a short staring contest, but you never win those with him. You hold back the bratty whine as you get up and walk towards the chair. Should you address this? What would be more awkward – saying that you don’t have a bra on or just slipping off the top of the dress, flashing him? But Zayne is a professional; he probably saw plenty of breasts from other patients and didn’t bat an eye. And maybe he even noticed that you’re braless.

You sit on the chair next to him and Zayne gives you an amused look. “Good girl.”

It was like a reflex - the moment you heard those words, your hands slipped off the top of your dress. Zayne pauses, his eyes locked at the sight before him. Oh shit, did you manage to make the situation awkward after all? Just when you wanted to open your mouth to say anything, he blinks and proceeds to do what he’s supposed to do. You suck in a breath when the icy cold stethoscope touches your chest spreading goosebumps across your skin, making your nipples hard. Zayne's eyes are focused somewhere to the side, but you can see light redness peppered on his cheeks. The two of you sit there in silence while he checks your heartbeat. You try to compose yourself, take slow breaths, but your heart is giving you away.

When he’s done, he takes off the instrument and places it on the table. He clears his throat “Nothing irregular, your heartbeat is a little faster, but the heat is probably to blame.”

Right, the heat.

You hope that the redness, still on his face, and his ears, is not from the sun.

Again, you have two choices – do you pull the top up and act like nothing happened, continue the same ‘will they, won’t they’ routine – or do you want to do something about this, take the first step and find out once and for all if this infatuation is one sided?

You take his hand, making him look at you, ‘Well, can you help me cool down, Doctor?’

Zayne eyes widen slightly, switching between your hand and your gaze, only guessing where you’re going with this.

You gently place his cold hand just above your left breast ‘Is this okay?’ you whisper.

Zayne’s irises are almost black from how dilated his pupils are. As he gazes into your doe eyes, the hand resting on your chest travels up across your skin and lands on the side of your neck. He takes off his glasses, leans towards you, his lips a breath away from yours, “You’re walking on thin ice, darling.”

He grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you into a searing kiss. Zayne is kissing you like a man starved, like he's been waiting for this for so long, afraid that this moment will slip away all too quickly. His other hand wraps tightly around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing your chests together, feeling each other’s heartbeats. You moan into the kiss, surprised by the intensity of it and the desperation of his embrace. His lips are so soft and tender, just like you imagined too many times. The hand on your waist travels up to grab your breast, the sensation of his big cold hand on your heated skin making you gasp against his lips. He seizes the moment to lick your bottom lip, then slipping his tongue, yours quickly meeting it.

Suddenly, both of his hands land on your shoulders pulling away.

He utters ‘fuck’ (this might be the first time hearing him say the f word, and you’re embarrassed how excited it made you.) He holds your chin with thumb and index finger, ‘Do you wish to continue?’

You utter ‘yes’ and grab him by the black necktie locking your lips again. His hands find the top of your thighs, then sneaking their way down to bunch up your dress over your knees.

“Hold onto me.” He murmurs between kisses, and you oblige, catching onto his shoulders. Zayne grabs you by the back of your soft thighs, lifting you from the chair and placing you on his desk, so effortlessly and swiftly, like you weigh nothing.

Your fingers comb through his soft, thick hair, relishing in the fact of being able to touch it like this. His hands cup your face, distancing his lips from yours. You expectantly look up to see his tender, yearning gaze. He looks like he’s about to say something, but then he kisses you again, this time softly, slowly deepening it, stealing your breath away. His soft lips move to kiss and nip at the side of your neck, his hands giving attention to your breasts again. He caresses both of them, and it doesn’t take long for one of his hands to be replaced by his lips. His hot tongue teases around the nipple. But when he starts sucking on it, while simultaneously playing with the other one with his fingers, a loud moan escapes your lips.

Zayne’s smirks against the sensitive nipple, “You need to stay quiet, darling.”

You were so dazed with lust that you completely forgot that there could be people outside his office. You bite your bottom lip and nod.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, one hand bunching up your dress more and resting on your hip, while the one on your nipple sneaks its way down, teasing the band of your underwear. You feel his fingers slide down, rubbing you over your soaked panties, making you move your hips, craving more friction.

“Fuck.” He breathes against your ear, “You’re already so wet for me.”

The fingers travel towards the band of your underwear and tug on it, and you lift your hips to let him slide it down your legs. Then he stashes your panties into the pocket of his pants.

He catches you by surprise when he kneels down in front of your cunt, your legs closing on reflex, but Zayne grabs your thighs before they could squish his head.

He gently strokes them, "Let me see you."

You’re hesitant about it, but you remember that you took extra steps when you freshened up in the bathroom. Slowly, you spread your legs, lifting your feet to rest on the edge of the desk. Cool air against your soaked pussy sends shivers all over your body.

His hands rest on the plush of your inner thighs. His eyes are mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You almost feel self-conscious by the close-up he’s getting.

"Zayne –" You squirm under his stare.

Snapping out of his daze, he meets your eyes "I’m sorry. You’re just so much more beautiful than I imagined."

Than he imagined? The statement makes your cheeks even deeper red, your pussy more wet and impatient.

Feeling impatient himself, Zayne starts by placing gentle kisses on your inner thigh. The hand on the opposite side follows the same trail, his slender fingers stopping to tease your wet folds, the contact making you gasp and involuntarily clench your thighs.

"Relax, angel." His breath fans over your pussy, not making it easier but you try anyway.

The digits slowly glide over the wetness, bathing in your juices. Your hips flinch as his fingertips lightly circle your clit, thighs trembling as digits are replaced with his hot tongue. It glides flat over your folds, stopping to circle the sensitive nub. The tip of the tongue flicks over it, circles it, again and again, your cunt dripping with both his saliva and your arousal. His middle finger slides in, ring finger shortly after, curling to reach and rub that delicate spot inside you; he sucks and licks your clit while finger fucking you, and your thighs are now shaking, toes curling, as intense waves of pleasure course through your body.

Your hold onto Zayne’s hair, and roll your hips in the same rhythm of his fingers, chasing your release, "Zayne… I’m gonna–"

He locks eyes with you and continues what he’s doing; you come shortly after, covering your mouth with your hand.

Zayne helps you come down from your high, places soft pecks on your thighs again and stands up, pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

Your hands frantically find his belt and start unbuckling it.

Zayne breaks the kiss, ‘I don’t have any condoms here.’

You shrug ‘Just pull out.’

‘That’s not very respo – ‘

‘Well, you’re a doctor; you can prescribe me some plan b pills.’ you innocently flutter your lashes.

He chuckles and starts taking off his tie and shirt, and you take a moment to gaze at the strong, chiseled muscles of his torso, his arms and those shoulders. Zayne, amused at your dazed and shameless ogling of his  shirtless physique, reaches down to unzip his pants, taking them and underwear off in the same go, his hard cock smacking against his shaved pelvis. You suck in a breath when your eyes land on it. He's long and thick, curved just right, tip glistening with so much precum. You hand wraps around it, stroking and feeling the pulsing veins under your touch.

Zayne’s breath hitches ‘Are you sure – fuck…’ He groans when you press his length against your slippery folds, teasingly moving your hips.

‘Yes… I need you.’

With those magic words, Zayne swipes all the papers off the table, grabs you behind the knees and lifts your legs further, and you lean back to rest on your elbows.

His dick strokes your slit, tip teasing the entrance, but you're so impatient.

'Zaynee-' you whine.

He closes his eyes, jaw clenched. Even though your ‘friend’ is the embodiment of calm and collected, right now he’s barely holding onto his composure. His flushed cheeks and red ears, ragged breathing are exposing how badly he wanted, needed, this and how he’s trying so hard not to cum right here before even slipping the tip in.

But he doesn’t want to wait any longer; with your needy whines spurring him on, he places his red cockhead against you, your drenched pussy making it easy to slide it in.

His leg muscles tremble, trying to restrain himself from bottoming out the same second; with shallow thrusts, he slowly slides it all the way in. He towers over you, one hand resting on the desk, the other cupping your face. His hips roll at languid pace, his hooded eyes never leaving your face, watching you adjust to his size.

As you get comfortable, you grab him by back of his neck “Faster, please…” You breathe. He leans down, locking your lips into a sloppy kiss.

He slowly picks up the pace, his hand starts playing with your nipples again, and now it's really hard keep your voice down. You keep breaking the kiss in desperate need to catch your breath, but moans escape your lips as well. Zayne grabs your upper arms and pushes you down further. His muscular torso pressed against yours, his pelvis rubbing against your clit.

“Zayne - I'm close”

“Try to stay quiet, angel.” he grunts, his eyes locked on your face, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. He angles himself so his hand can reach down and rub your clit, and it’s too much for you - you cum a few seconds later and Zayne has to slip two fingers of his other hand into your mouth to keep you from screaming. You still whimper and moan over his fingers. He slows down to help you ride out the orgasm, and pulls out the fingers to kiss your lips.

'Is it okay to pick up the pace now? I'm so close.'

You only nod, unable to form any words. He plants a kiss on your temple and moves onto kissing and sucking your neck. Then he goes back to just looking at your face while he picks up the pace, your legs locking around his waist, pulling him even deeper. You bite your bottom lip, but at this point, you feel it's impossible to stay quiet. And now it's not only you who is making noise, but the desk, although sturdy, is starting to move and creak.

You gasp as he suddenly lifts you off the table with his big arms wrapped around your torso. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto him. His hands grabs your ass and starts moving your hips in unison with his, his throbbing dick thrusting so much deeper, all the juices leaking down his balls and onto the floor.

You latch your teeth onto his neck to keep yourself from screaming while he’s panting feverishly into your ear.

‘I’m gonna come soon –‘

You meet his gaze ‘Don’t pull out.’

His hips stutter at your words, eyes widening for a second. He curses under his breath and picks up the pace. You pull him into a sloppy kiss, lewd gasps and pants interrupting.

His hands squeezing your ass in a bruising grip, he grunts against your lips, and you feel intense throbbing of his cock; warm liquid filling you up, sending shivers all over your sweaty body.

His slow pumps let his thick cum drip out, making a mess of his pants and the floor. You can feel how fast his heart is beating against your chest. The two of you catch your breath as your lips share a languid kiss, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies.

After pulling out, Zayne sits you on his chair. He kneels in front of you, caresses your cheek, his eyes full of adoration. “I never thought our first time would look like this.”

You lean into his palm, looking at him with sweet innocent eyes, “Oh? What did you imagine then?”

“I can show you later.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

UNMATCHED

A/N: it's been like 6 months since i last posted something and honestly, i haven't even written anything, things are very shitty these days but i felt the motivation to write this quickly after watching 'tell me lies' and 'rivals' these past weeks so here we go! if student-prof type of fics are not your thing then don't read it

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNING: age gap, student-professor relationship

SUMMARY: Harry is very strict about staying away from students as a young and handsome professor, but there is one person he can't get out of his head and a Christmas party brings an unexpected turn.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry hates these type of parties, mostly because he can’t imagine inviting dozens of students into his home, his private space, have the roam around and spend an entire evening with them, talking and pretending like they aren’t just trying to get a better grade at the end of the semester with their too friendly behavior. Or, in his case, some girls try to push the boundaries and flirt with him, hoping to hook up with him. 

He is not stupid. He has heard students whisper about him several times, he notices the heart eyes when he is talking in class and he has gotten several phone numbers on papers since he started his PHD studies and started teaching last year. His friends teased him about being the heartthrob of the faculty, but he didn’t think it would actually happen and to this extent. To avoid any possible scandals, not that he planned to make any, he has put on quite a rigid mask towards the students to scare them off from even trying, though that hasn’t stopped some of them from wanting to shoot their shot. 

He wouldn’t have come to this party, he would rather be home and continue his research that’s still not even close to being done, but Professor Bradford, or Stella as she requests Harry to call her, is the only person he gets along with in the faculty. She is 18 years older than Harry, but still younger than the rest of the old men who have been teaching here since probably before the declaration of independence was signed. Those men are the reason younger people don’t like classic literature anymore, with their outdated ways of teaching and unwillingness to bring something modern into their lectures they are scaring the new generations away. But not Stella. She is one of the reasons Harry went into his PHD and now he gets to work with her. He couldn’t just reject her invitation for her annual Christmas Party she holds for her students and some colleagues. 

Now he is standing by the wall, drinking mulled wine and just gritting his teeth, trying to calculate how early is too early to leave. A couple of girls have already tried to chat him up, they like to circle him, leave him almost no room to escape and then make him talk about school stuff, but then they slyly bring up personal things, hoping to break his usual character, but he sees through them always. 

Harry’s best friend, Niall always teases him that he should just give in and have fun with one of them. His morals are a lot looser than Harry’s, that’s for sure. 

Just as he is about to look for the bathroom, not to use it but to hide for a bit, another group of girls spots him and he can already feel his skin crawling as they approach him from down the hallway. He is quick to assess the situation, but he realizes he has no chance of fleeing before they reach him. 

“Profesor! So good to see you here!” 

And here we go. 

It goes the same, they are extremely nice and inquiring about his plans for the next semester and then suddenly they are talking about summer and Harry knows they are moments away from asking what he’ll be doing once the school year is over. One of the girls is talking about going to Italy on a yacht and the others chime in with their own ridiculously over the top plans while Harry is avoiding to even look at them, his eyes roam around the other guests. 

That’s when he sees her. 

Just down the hall he can peek into the kitchen and there she is, with a boy Harry assumes to be her boyfriend. He’s seen them around campus the past few weeks, he even waited for her after Harry’s class and saw them walk away together as he fought the way his stomach churned every time. 

Since the moment she walked into his class at the beginning of the semester Harry has been feeling like he is losing his mind. Whether it be the way she laughs with her friends before class or focuses with undivided attention as Harry explains something by the board, or says hello every time she passes him in the cafeteria, Harry can’t stop thinking about her for days after even though he knows such feelings should be banned from his mind when it comes to a student. Every time he catches himself thinking about her he wants to throw himself out the window, but he still can’t fight it. There’s something in her that draws him in and swallows him whole and it’s not just the looks. Unlike a lot of students who take his classes for easy credits or to drool after him, she is there to learn as much as she can and she’s had the most brilliant thoughts on certain subjects Harry has ever encountered, making him almost jealous he wasn’t the one to think about them. 

She is… unmatched. And forbidden, but impossible to ignore. She’s been his vice for months.

From where he stands it appears she is having a fight with said boyfriend, her always cheerful expression is now rather upset and confused while the boy seems to be over the conversation, almost irritated by her, dismissed. Harry tries to appear not too obvious about watching them, but he is also way too fixated on her to ignore what’s happening just down the hallway. 

He glances away just for a few seconds, but the next time he looks back he sees the boy stomping away, irritated, while she is left there, pulling on her coat before disappearing through the backdoor, swallowed by the darkness of the unlit back terrace. 

And before Harry could stop himself, he is already moving.

“Excuse me girl,” he mumbles disorientedly as he slips out of the small circle. 

He places his glass to a nearby table and then grabs his own coat from the wardrobe in the hallway before making his way outside. After her. 

The moment he steps out into the cold a short sense of realization washes over him that he definitely shouldn’t be here, that he is crossing a line, but then another voice in his head tunes it out, convincing him that he is just making sure she is okay and there’s nothing wrong with that. 

Stopping by the door his gaze rakes through the terrace, but he doesn’t see her, until she spots her slouched form sitting on the bottom of the stairs leading out to the lawn. He hears her sniffling, but she hasn’t acknowledged his presence yet, if she noticed it at all. There’s a couple of moments of hesitation on his end, he can hear the rational side of him screaming somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him to turn around and just walk back inside, yet he still finds himself moving towards him and then that voice is silenced. 

“Everything alright?” Harry asks from the top of the stairs, but he startles her so much that she jumps to her feet and backs away a few feet. That’s when he sees her tearful eyes and red nose. 

“S-Sorry, I don’t–”

“Hey, it’s all good. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just checking in.”

She squints her eyes at him and that’s when he realizes she must not even see his face since the light is coming right behind him. So he walks down the stairs and then finally his face is lit and realization settles in her eyes. 

“Oh, Professor Styles. Hi.”

“Hello Y/N. Are you okay?” he asks again, to which she just chuckles bitterly. 

He can’t miss that even with tears running down her cheeks and her eyelashes stuck together, she looks so fucking beautiful it baffles him. He has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her tear-soaked cheeks. 

“Um, yeah, everything is… perfect,” she scoffs, reaching into her pockets, probably looking for tissues, but finding none so Harry grabs one from his inner pocket, handing it over to her, her fingers brushing against his for the shortest second as she takes it and then it’s over, but his skin keeps tingling. 

“Thanks,” she mumbles before drying her face as much as she can. “I’m good. Just…” She looks at him and changes her mind. “Ah, wouldn’t want to bore you with my nonsense personal drama.”

“Drama is never boring, have you learned nothing in my class?” he jokes and it actually makes her laugh. 

“This drama is not worthy of being taught in class though.”

“I bet some of the big names thought the same thing upon writing what we read in class these days.”

“So you’re saying I should write about how my boyfriend is fed up with me because I told him something he did hurt me?”

“That sounds like something I bet a lot of people would want to read about,” he smiles and when she mirrors it, he can feel his chest expanding. Somewhere way too deep in his mind an alarm goes off, but it quickly becomes one with the void and all he can think about is her. “Actually I can think of a few great pieces that are about similar topics.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, believe it or not, you’re not the first one to experience this.”

The way she looks at him is setting him on fire. The mixture of sadness, tiredness and gratitude towards his attempt to cheer her up is still making her glow in a way Harry has never seen before on any woman. 

“Do you mind analyzing one for me right now?”

“I’d be happy to.”

The party is completely tuned out for the two of them. First they actually talk about a novel, but soon it turns into sharing their favorite books and authors, their guilty pleasure reads,  recommendations for each other and even more personal bits Harry would never share with a student, but Y/N is the exception. 

They have no idea how much time passes as they stand outside and Harry ignores how the cold starts to sting his fingertips even in his pockets, because he knows that if they go inside this bubble will pop and he is too selfish to let that happen just yet. 

When there’s a short silence Harry notices that she is probably slipping back into what happened earlier and when she looks at him again he already knows she is about to share.

“I gave him a chance and explicitly told him not to fuck me over, because I can’t deal with that again. But all he has been doing is manipulating to believe that I’m always in the wrong.”

“It’s impossible for you to always be in the wrong.”

“I know. Well, part of me knows, but then I always go back to thinking that he is right, I must have messed up something.”

“That just proves that you have self-criticism, that you don’t just think everything you do is perfect.”

She sighs and looks away, her gaze distant as she battles herself inside her head, a feeling Harry knows very well, unfortunately. It doesn’t sit right with him that she is visibly struggling because of an immature guy’s untreated problems. She deserves so much more, but how can he tell that without crossing a line?

“Give it some time and you’ll see it clearer. Use your critical thinking on his actions as well, not just yours and don’t settle for less than your worth.”

“You think I did that?” she asks, eyes jumping back to meet his gaze. “You think I settled for less than my worth?”

There’s more behind her eyes than the words she said out loud and he is torn, because he can feel himself being pulled in more than ever, like she just opened the door the slightest and he has the chance to slip in. It’s the first time he senses something on her part and after all the yearning he is eager to take the chance. 

“I think you deserve a lot more, Y/N. You’re brilliant, bright and give so much to others, you should get the same amount if not more back. If someone can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”

For a second he wishes he didn’t say a thing, he regrets crossing the line and he fears her reaction, but then… 

Then he forgets everything. Because she is kissing him. 

It happens fast, one moment she is staring up at him with doe eyes, the next her lips are crashing against his, her hands grabbing onto the lapels of his coat. He barely recovers from the shock when she is already pulling away.

“I-I’m so sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I just—Oh my Go–”

Her stammering is quickly cut short when he kisses her, his hands holding her jaw to angle her face perfectly and while her kiss was closed, rushed and panicked, this one is different. He is quick to beg for her to open her lips so he can explore as much of her as humanly possible, he is letting all the passions loose that he’s been locking up these past months and when she returns it just as eagerly it just pushes him even further. 

They inch back to the wall of the house and when he pins her against it a moan slips past her swollen lips, completely maddening him. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against her lips, kissing her jawline, savoring the sweet taste of her skin that’s supposed to be cold, but it’s actually burning. For him. 

He keeps one hand on the side of her neck, the other one digs into her hip through her coat and she keeps pushing against him, while her hands wander under his coat, they are on his waist, back and when they move to his lower stomach, brushing against his belt, something snaps inside him. 

But before he could completely lose his mind the backdoor opens and he quickly sobers up, pulling her farther away from the corner so they can’t be seen. 

“...and that was actually crazy,” a girl speaks up, oblivious to how Harry has Y/N pinned against the wall just a few feet away. They are both breathing heavily, but she has her face buried in his shoulder while he covers his mouth with a hand, adrenaline racing through his veins. 

“Ah shit, I’m out of cigarettes,” another girl says.

“Mm let’s get out of here then. I think Max said they are having a little party as well.”

“Okay.”

Then the door opens again and the voices disappear, but reality hits Harry hard in the head.

He slowly pulls back, enough to look at her face and when he sees her swollen lips and slightly smeared mascara he almost combusts. 

Because he wants nothing more than to take her, right here and then everywhere else in the world, but he also realizes what he just did and this time his rational side wins. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as he jumps back, cupping a hand over his mouth.

“I wanted it–”

“Y/N, stop!” he cuts her off. “Fuck, this was a mistake.”

“But I wanted it! You didn’t–”

“I said stop!” he barks and she shuts her mouth right away. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

And before she could protest again or worse, kiss him again, he is already storming back inside, across the house towards the front door.

“Harry! I haven’t seen you all night!” Stella catches him, but he just wants to get as far away from this house and from Y/N as possible.

“I’m sorry, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later,” is all he manages to say before he is already out the door.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[yzashaven]

pairing ☆ scaramouche x fem!reader

content warnings ☆ nsfw content ahead. unprotected sex. hate fuck. rough sex. slapping. spanking. degradation + praising. overstimulation. nipple sucking. creampie. hair pulling. marking. riding. mating press. prone bone. "whore, slut, baby"

note .ᐟ HEYYY so like... it's been a while, yes? 3 months since my last post, how is everyone? i made this yesterday randomly at 3am and didn't really feel like posting it on the new blog (that is still in progress) also I AM SO SORRY if this is in any way bad?? i'm so rusty... i haven't written in so long but gosh it felt nice to finish a work and i thought it would be a good idea to put it here just because i felt like it akbsuwhs the plot is kinda all over the place i have no idea—anyway, if i missed anything in the warnings, please let me know! i hope you guys will enjoy reading this ♡

word count ☆ 0.98k

the sight of you riding him was the last thing he expected to enjoy seeing. the way your face has pleasure written all over it, your breasts bouncing with each move your hips make, body trembling from the feeling, and most especially, the way you moaned so lewdly.

he loved it, yet hated you.

he hated your cocky and annoying attitude, always teasing and defying him no matter when or where you were. why do you always think you're better than him? you never will be. well... at least that's what he thinks.

putting you in your place was always the one thing he wanted to do. but as much as he wanted to do so out of anger, the hidden sexual tension between you was no joke. he couldn't avoid it.

he wants to slap you, punch you, hit you in some way. but at the same time he feels like pounding you, pushing your face down into the bed, shutting you up with his fingers in your mouth. no matter how much he thinks you're the absolute worst, he can't deny how attractive you are. and it just fuels his desires even more.

his eyes dart down to watch the way his cock disappears into your pussy, smirking to himself, "such a filthy slut. you take me so well, don't you?" hand reaching behind to grab a fistful of your hair, pulling it back, exposing your neck to him. he doesn't hesitate to lean it and mark you as his.

moving down, he sees your hardened nipples from arousal. his lips wrap around the sensitive area and gently suck on one, tongue flicking on it every now and then. he pulls away and finally lets go of your hair. hands going over to grip your hips now before he spoke up, "getting tired already? gosh, you're weaker than i thought."

you shake your head, about to respond but he doesn't let you. two fingers suddenly filling your mouth, "don't even think of speaking," he whispers and lays you down on your back, "i'm gonna fuck you hard, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?"

a red hue spreads across your face. speechless, you nod silently. he smirks and playfully spanks your ass, "atta girl." in one thrust, he fills you up completely. grabbing your legs and bringing them up to your chest. his cock is way deeper inside you in this position and he knows that very well.

capturing your lips in a rough kiss, he began to thrust in and out of you, slow in pace but definitely powerful. gradually getting faster, wilder, with each passing second. your hands come up around your legs to hold them in place, spreading yourself for him.

finally pulling away from the kiss, you try to catch your breath but moans flow out of your lips one after another. to add to it all, he brings his thumb down to rub your clit. it was visible from your body language that you were close to an orgasm. so close.

"you gonna cum around my cock like a good whore, baby?" he chuckles. his other hand comes up to your face, playfully slapping you, "i've always wanted to do that since you're so damn annoying." narrowing his eyes, he glares down at you.

"as if you aren't as well!?" you exclaim back, but it fails—he pinches your clit, drawing out a lewd cry from you. "be quiet and i'll let you cum. come on." you look up at him and make eye contact. he isn't moving anymore, his cock just buried deep inside you. the moment is rather intimate, or so you thought.

"fuck you, scara–"

"you're doing just that and you're still complaining?"

you glare up at him, giving up and letting your head fall back onto the soft pillows, "just fuck me already, fucking hell." you unexpectedly say. he smiles, "gladly."

before you could even register anything else, he was already pounding into you. rough, hard, and fast. giving your clit a sufficient amount of attention as well. all of it was completely overwhelming and all you could do was scream out his name as you came around him. gripping the sheets so tight that your knuckles turned white, your whole body shaking.

"fuck–so good... you feel so fucking good squeezing my cock like that, baby." he groans before finishing inside you. keeping himself in place for a while as he calmed himself down before pulling out gently. he silently watches as your body continues to tremble. scaramouche sighs and gently stimulates your clit, "aww, shh... there there..." the gesture causes you to get overstimulated rather than soothed.

"i'm still hard, just so you know." his voice low as a whisper. "let me just..." flipping you over, he puts you on your hands and knees, entering you from behind and making your body weakly fall flat on the bed. he sighs and just gets on top of you, pushing himself back deep into your wetness.

his bare chest to your back, your body quivering beneath him as he began to thrust into you again. starting at a slow pace that gradually got faster, fucking you properly. leaning down, he whispers right into your ear, "such a perfect cunt you've got, huh?"

you're already so close. the head of his cock brushing over your g-spot every now and then. his body trapping you under him, leaving you with no choice but to take what he gave. drool was already seeping from out of the corner of your mouth from how long you've had your lips apart, occupied in moaning his name over and over again.

as much as he despised you, he could never even think of denying how much he adored the fucked out state you were in. all because of him.

[messenger-of-babel]

Coloured Red

Summary: He likes you in his colour, just not that like that. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: blood and injury. Hope everyone's having a good week so far! Not my favouriteeeeee Jason piece I have written but please enjoy anyways. xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Never like this.

He had been working out of the manor for a few days, something he was already reluctant to do. However, you had sent him off to "work" with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek, wishing him well for whatever convention Librarians had. Instead of your boyfriend being the gruff librarian sorting returns every night, he was in fact the red masked vigilante cooped up in the cave, pacing back and forth in front of the Bat computer while Tim tried to trace their latest suspect.

Dick had called him back for some extra firepower in the latest case, and if he hadn't owed him one Jason would be back with you in a heartbeat. "Get anything?" he grunts to Tim, who's fingers are typing strings of code into the keyboard.

"Not yet," he hums, the younger man's face twitching with annoyance as the firewall warning flashes across the screen again.

"Give it time, Jay. we don't want to let them know we're onto them." comes Dick, who’s leaning against a railing and still fully suited up from his earlier patrol. "I've checked all through The Cauldron and Southside, no trace of them there. Penguin must have closed up shop around Cobblepot Steel when he started working with his new friend. Going through great lengths to gatekeep his new buddy from us." he hums.

"Well I want to get this meet and greet over with," Jason grumbles, crossing his arms while he scuffs his boots impatiently.

"Bee in your bonnet, Red?" Dick calls and Jason scoffs.

"You put it there. You wanted me to help take 'em down while the Bat is out of town with Superscout, but you don't even know where they are. I've spent a full night just waiting for boy genius here to get a lock."

Dick puts his hands up in mock surrender. "We'll be done soon, promise. Then you can go home to your sweetheart. Hey, you can even say you came back early just to see them. I'm helping you get brownie points." he grins, nimbly dodging the hand Jason had swung out to slap the back of his head. "Where are they anyways? Their place?"

"Safehouse." Jason grunts back. "Staying at mine while I'm helping you lot. Old Gotham, near the GCPD. Besides, I told them to mark down I'd be back tonight on the calendar anyways."

Dick whistles. "Didn't think you had a place that close to the cops."

Jason just shrugs. "They're not after me, and if they were it would be somewhere they wouldn't look. Plus it's a nice distance from you all." he grumbles.

Dick pushes off the wall coming to lean over a monitor near Tim. "Well if our mystery person is teaming up with Penguin, and he isn't interested in the drug business, what is he here for?" he hums, eyes focused on the map of Gotham that Tim has pulled up. He taps the screen after a second, zooming in. "Here. Dixon Docks. We haven't checked here yet. Penguin used to smuggle through here, but it also became a bit of a meet up spot. He might have gone back to old ground."

"Yeah, but Penguin shifted his focus into drug running. Bruce put him under pretty heavy surveillance, managed to shut down a lot of his operations for a while. You really think he'd be that stupid to start trying to smuggle firearms again?" Tim piped up.

"Maybe. But Maybe its not firearms. This spot used to be a mob meeting spot. He never visited the operation personally unless-"

"Unless he wanted to order a hit." Jason cut off his older counterpart, voice becoming modulated as he fixed his mask to his face. "Seems there's a chance his new play pal is a hitman."

"For who though?" Tim asks.

"Maybe the hit isn't one Penguin is ordering. maybe the Penguin's selling info." Dick calls, testing his in earpiece before giving Jason a nod. "Me and Hood are going in to take a look. Track our location and keep the cameras on."

Tim nods while Jason and Dick head for the bikes, mounting each of their respective vehicles.

"Finally something to do." Jason groans, stretching his arms above his head before catching the cocky grin from Dick speeding past him. "Show-off." he murmurs, his own engine roaring to life as he follows suit.

They had cleared the dock pretty easily, Dick's hunch being correct. Between the two of them the middlemen and thugs were strewn across the floor of the warehouse, and Tim had already called the GCPD to come pick them up for the arrest. "No sign of our flightless friend." Jason grumbled, stepping over an unconscious thug.

"Nor our new mystery visitor." Dick concludes, tucking his escrima under his arm as he goes through the stack of papers at the makeshift desk tucked behind some shipping containers. Jason has known the eldest robin enough to know when he was worried, and the tight way he now held his body was a clear sign. "You find something?" he asks, boots thudding as the come to stand beside him.

"You think Oz was beginning to catch on?" Dick asks quietly, turning the page to show Jason the blurry CCTV photo of Bruce, a crude cowl and ears drawn over the image in sharpie.

"Shit," Jason breathed, taking some of the papers from Dick and beginning to flick through it. "This is all of us." He confirms, worry beginning to gnaw at his bones. There were photos of Tim leaving the city library and entering the Wayne Tower. Photos of Dick back in Bludhaven in a police uniform, photos of him at galas. Photos of Damian at school and meeting with Alfred. The more he flipped through them the more his heart dropped. There was a photo for nearly every 'apprentice' of Batman, surrounded by question marks.

"Whoever is joining the dots isn't fully convinced of it themselves." he murmurs, blood freezing as he sees a photo of himself there. A photo with you on his arm next to him. Dick comes to peer over at it, cursing under his breath.

"Hood, don't panic-" he tries to soothe, but Jason is already pushing past him to tear at more of the documents on the desk. He rifles through the papers, the sound of approaching sirens and Nightwing's urging to leave the scene deafened by the ringing in his ears. In his tightly clenched hands there was a leger, with a list of addresses. In the middle, was his address. The address he had given you, highlighted in yellow.

"We need to go." Dick urges, hurrying him to mount his bike. Jason jaw clenches, and he shoves the piece of paper into his brothers’ hands.

"Yeah. We do." he grits out, but he hopes Dick can't hear the sheer fear held behind his teeth. His bike speeds off, roaring through the side street they came on as he reroutes for Old Gotham. Dick looks down, eyes wandering over the red written date next to the highlighted address, tonight date. "Jesus," he breathes out, quickly following behind his brother before he does something reckless.

Jason doesn't think that he'd ever driven that fast since he'd been on the run from Bruce, throwing the bike into park so violently outside his apartment that the tires burnt as they squealed. Dick wasn't too far behind him, calling out for him to wait in between talking to Tim on the other end of his earpiece. His heart is thudding in his ears, hands feeling cold as he scales the stairs to the fourth floor, knocking on the door rapidly. He didn't care he was in his full suit. He could make some bullshit excuse if you were fine, claiming some noise disturbance or the wrong door.

But if he wasn't?

Then someone was going to fear the fact he was already suited up.

"I told you to wait, Hood-" Dick snaps at him, slightly out of breath from having to run behind him. Jason doesn't listen, shoulder slamming into the door when you don't come to answer.

"Don't you have the key?" Nightwing hisses to him.

"Left it in my civvies." he grunts, stumbling slightly as the door gives way. "I wasn't really expecting to…" he trails off, bile rising in his throat and blood draining from his face. Dick pushes in next to him, still scolding. "You can't just go in like this-" he cuts himself off, catching sight of what Jason was burning into his brain. "Oh no, Jay..." he whispers, but Jason is already moving to your side.

His hands come to your head, softly cradling it in his large palms. Two fingers come to press against your neck, his breathing evening out as he finds a weak pulse. "They're still kicking." He grunts out, other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. He closes his eyes trying to scrub the image of you lying there in the living room, sprawled on the carpet surrounded by the shards of the broken window and white rug drinking your blood.

Your eyes flicker weakly and you make a faint cry when he presses down on the wound by your ribs, a sound that tears him up inside. "Shhh," he tries to say softly, but the modulator makes it robotic, stripping the emotion from it. "I gotta put pressure on it. Did you see who did it?" he asks. He can faintly hear Dick calling for Robin on the end of the commlink, calling for paramedics to come to his address.

He hates how warm his hands feel, gloves heating up as if they were stealing the life force from out of you. Blood is flecked across your lips from the spray, faintly mumbling the words, "didn’t see them."

He nods along. "That’s okay, that’s okay." he murmurs, but he wasn't sure who he was telling that to.

"Red Hood…" you groan out, hand coming the grip his wrist as he pushes firmer on the bullet wound. Your fingers are bloody, smearing the crimson across his suit. "You gotta…you gotta find my boyfriend," you cough weakly. "They were here for him. He’s just…he's just a librarian…" your eyes tear up, throat swelling with the weight of your words. "He was just coming back tonight…oh god…you have to find him… what if they-" you sob, causing your face to scrunch up at the pain that ripples through your body. "I wanna…I wanna see him."

Jason's heart is tearing into pieces as Dick kneels to your other side, hands coming to your non-wounded side as he preps the area, Tim faintly heard giving instructions on how to stabilise you until the paramedics arrive. Jason shakes his head, fighting back tears. Despite the side glance he gets from Nightwing, he pulls one hand up to his face, feeling for the latch under his jaw to release his mask.

When he pulls it away his eyes are red, tears already built in the corners. His lips have a tremble that hasn't been felt since he was in the single digits on the streets, and his hairline is beaded with sweat from worry. He offers you a weak smile, unable to stop the shooting pain that wracks his mind watching the hazy confusion on your face.

"Jay?" you whisper, the word more mouth than sound. He nods reluctantly.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Oh god, it wasn’t supposed to go like this.

He dreamt of the day that he could tell you his identity, of his real profession. He imagined all the best scenarios of you accepting him, of letting him spin you around the kitchen when he picked you up by the waist like he did so often. Of telling you while you both read together on the couch, your legs pulled across his lap. He never imagined the bad scenarios. He pushed those to the back of his mind. But as you reached up with bloodstained fingers, dragging the sticky red across his cheek in that oh so familiar motion, he knew right then that this was the worst situation imaginable.

He lets his tears wash the red from your fingers, trying to blink them out of his eyes so he could focus on saving you.

"Hold on, sweetheart." he murmured weakly, desperately praying for the wailing of the siren to reach his ears.

He had always said how much he loved red, loved you in the colour. Loved you in his colour.

Now he was thinking he never wanted to see you bathed in this much red ever again.

[tricksters-captain]

Declan O'Hara imagine - I'm not doing this.

A/N: I thought about this one shot weeks ago... finally writing it. Probably been done already by someone else but who isn't obsessed with rivals atm. I also haven't written in years.

Summary: Declan is fighting against himself and everything he believes in when you come into the picture.

Warnings: Age Gap, fem!reader, NSFW content 18+, strong language, bit of a slow burn.

"Taggie, honestly, I don't know why you'd ever willingly add Brussel sprouts to anything." You chuckled as you both crept through the door to the kitchen.

"They're good for you!" Taggie tried to defend her culinary choices for her Sunday lunch.

"If they're good for you then I always want to be bad."

"Who's being bad?" A thick Irish accent filled the room as Taggie's dad sauntered in, a mug of coffee in one hand with his other burrowed deeply into his trouser pocket.

"Dad, this is (Y/N). (Y/N) was just objecting to my sprouts."

"Oh yeah, I agree, terrible things. Even the dog won't eat 'em" Declan brought his mug to his lips, smirking through the thick moustache that hid his upper lip.

You felt your insides alight at his dark, playful expression as he teased Taggie.

That was the first time you knew you were a bad friend. A bad friend who wanted your new friend's father to lift you onto the kitchen table and bury his head between your thighs.

The thought made your cheeks burn red as you laughed at Declan's remark and Taggie's complaints against him.

The man left the kitchen when his eyes flitted back to you, sending you a nod and a 'lovely to meet you, (Y/N). '

You couldn't help but replay the way he said your name in your head over and over and over again until you were desperate for his voice to sing it again.

The next time you saw Declan O'Hara was at the O'Hara New Years Eve party.

"You better not spend the whole time in here. I'd actually like you to put a dress on and come out to dance at some point tonight." You pleaded with Taggie as she clasped your necklace for you.

"I'll try but I can't make any promises. Anyway, you're out there to be my eyes and ears. You need to tell me if anyone complains about the food, okay?"

"Yes, Taggie. But no one will because you are amazing and your food is amazing and you are so right for not letting me help you cook or serve after I burnt the soup last time." You faced her as she continued to prep the ingredients she would need for the feast she had planned.

"You are a great friend but you are a terrible cook." Taggie agreed. You felt a lump in your throat at the words. Were you a great friend for literally fantasising over her father after almost every time you had an interaction with him? "Now please go next door and make sure that all the tables have the right cutlery for me?"

"Anything for you, Agatha!" You headed to do as you were told. Looking down to smooth out your dress when you felt yourself collide with something solid.

"I'm so sorry!" You looked up to see Declan turning, laughing softly at your clumsiness.

"It's okay, love." Declan's own eyes fell down your body, his lips parting slightly as he took in the sight of you all dressed up. He knew you were an attractive girl but you were Taggie's age and one of her only friends in the surrounding neighbours beside Lizzie. "You look beautiful."

The sincerity in his voice caused a chill to roll up your spine.

"Thanks. You look very handsome too, Mr. O'Hara." You didn't know why you felt so shy around him. You were so used to owning your space and holding your confidence when you fancied someone.

"That's very kind, (Y/N). And it's Declan. I don't want to tell you again." Declan send you a wink as he started to pass you. "Hey, and no snogging my son at midnight. You're way too good for him."

Your heart squeezed at the taunt. Patrick was a gorgeous boy and he had tried to flirt with you when he met you but you were far too interested in Declan for Patrick to make any dent in your crush.

"He's not my type anyway." You managed to find your tongue to quip back an answer.

"Good girl."

Good Girl.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself replying something entirely inappropriate in response.

As the night went on, you felt your heart drop more and more. Declan was obsessed with his wife. His wife was obsessed with anyone else.

You were desperate to try and make more conversation with the man but almost everyone was grabbing his attention to discuss some work matter or other.

As the countdown began, you gut wrenchingly watched as Maud and Declan kiss. You put on a smile and exchanged celebrations with those around you. Giving Lizzie a kiss on the cheek as her husband blanked her as he usually did.

"Happy New Year, chicken." Lizzie pressed on a faux smile as you did.

"Happy New Year, Lizzie."

"A little advice for your new years resolution if I may?" Lizzie whispered as she drew you closer.

"You may want to get better at hiding your admiration for Taggie's father. I know nothing hurts more than something you can't have." Lizzie's words took you back, you felt your cheeks burning red and your smile drop.

"Oh, Lizzie, I'm mortified! Please don't tell Taggie." You begged.

"Not a peep." Lizzie motioned locking her lips with a key before grabbing your hands to singing sway along with the room.

The night went on and Lizzie tried to encourage you to join in festivities. You drank more and more, being forced away whenever you tried to help Taggie wash up, and you soon found yourself needing some quiet time.

You let yourself into Declan's office, leaning against the desk, fingers gripping the underside to give you some stability when the room started to ever so slightly spin.

You closed your eyes. Inhaling a shaky breath when you heard the door creek open.

"I thought someone unwanted had decided to sneak through my things." Declan's melodic accent forced your eyes open.

"I'm wanted, am I?" You smirked slightly, through the sickness as your eyelids closed again.

Declan didn't respond. Instead he just studied you from across the room. His hands in his pockets, his stance leaning back just ever so slightly.

"You struggling there?" Declan was amused at your state.

You tried to push yourself off the desk but instead felt yourself stumble forward.

Declan's amusement quickly turned into concern as he stepped forward to catch you.

"Steady on." Declan had managed to stop you from hitting the floor, your face pressed against his chest, his strong arms engulfing you as he pulled you up towards him.

"I'm so sorry..." You mumbled as you leant away to look up at him.

His features were so strong up close. You could smell the whisky on his breath as your eyes lingered on his lips.

"Maybe we should get you some water and put you to bed."

Declan's words drew your eyes to his own. His chest seemed to go tight as he starred down into your glassy (Y/E/C) eyes.

"You can take me to bed any time you want, Mr O'Hara." Your words slurred together with your weak attempt of drunkenly flirting.

"It's Declan."

"Okay, Declan..."

That was the first time Declan had heard you say his name. Something inside him knew he wanted to hear you say it again but he fought against the thought, pulling away from you as you gained your stance.

"Let's hope you don't remember this in the morning, ay?" Declan tried to make light, convincing himself the electric feeling he had was nothing.

"Why? I finally got my chance in your arms. My dream come true."

"Yeah, you really won't want to remember this in the morning. Come on..." Declan opened the door, waiting for you to follow suite. The noise of the party echoed around you; you had almost forgot it was still going on outside.

"Have you ever thought about me?" You had no idea where this liquid confidence had stirred from.

There was a pause before he answered.

"No." He was lying. He knew he was lying. He watched the disappoint subtly encase your eyes as you pursed your lips into a thin smile.

"If I was dreaming, you would've said yes. Goodnight, Mr O'Hara."

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."

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

As the weeks went on, rivals became friends. Friends became rivals. You grew closer to the O'Hara family and the moment from NYE had simply been forgotten. Or so you thought...

The dread that had filled your gut that New Years Day after you remembered the incident brewed inside of you for weeks. You had successfully avoided Declan, only seeing him in group scenarios and meetings for Venturer.

"(Y/N), I left some of my flyers on the table in the living room if you want to use them." Taggie climbed into her car, shouting over at you as she rushed off. You both had been going door to door for Venturer in different areas to cover more ground but you had run out of flyers to hand out.

"Thanks, Tag!" You rushed inside, running through the house that still held a cool air inside despite the early summer warmth outside.

"Careful!" You heard a voice proclaim as your bodies hit.

Within the blink of an eye, you had hit the floor with a body on top of you.

"Are you alright?" Declan groaned as you winced underneath his weight. The hard floor sent a wave of pain through your back but you had managed to not hit your head.

"Ow." You grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Did you hit your head?" Declan propped himself up on his arms, examining your face with a furrowed brow of worry.

"No." Was all you managed to say.

"I thought we had left bumping into each other for last year." Declan recalled on when you knocked into him last New Years Eve before the party had started.

"Clearly I'm not very good at keeping to New Year's resolutions."

Declan chuckled, pushing himself up before offering his hand.

You felt the warmth of his body leave you and the coldness of the floor pierce your bones.

You took his hand; hauling yourself to your feet.

"You sure you're okay?" Declan insisted. His hand reached out to take grip of your waist, his thumb and finger burning against your skin that had been revealed by the edge of your venturer top riding up. His other finger waved past your eyes, checking for concussion.

"I'm fine. No more running in the house with blind corners." You took a step back from the man, straightening your shirt to try and control the lingering feeling of the mans hand on you.

"Now... are we okay?" Declan rephrased,

"What do you mean?"

"(Y/N), don't play stupid. You've avoided me for almost half a year now. You won't even walk around the house without Caitlin or Taggie next to you."

You didn't think that Declan would've noticed with how busy he was with work and his life. Why would he have cared where you were or what you were doing in the house?

"I'm still living down my behaviour at New Years." You reluctantly admitted.

"What, that? Everyone says stuff they shouldn't when they've had a few too many. Doesn't mean you have to never look me in the eye again."

"What I said was completely inappropriate."

"Yes, it was. You're the same age as my daughter and I'm a married man but I'll have to admit I'm a little flattered." Declan tried his best to ease your anxiety. "I don't exactly see myself a teenage heart throb."

"I'm not a teenager." You bit back, the harshness your voice surprising you both.

"There's not much difference. You're practically a child and should be going for someone your own age." Declan quit the joking tone he had been using, taken back by your defence.

"Don't call me a child. I'm not the same age as Caitlin. I am older than Taggie and I've been with men before so I'm not playing silly little girl games over here. This isn't some school girl crush on a handsome teacher. You're right my feelings for you are inappropriate because you're a married man and I'm friends with your daughter but not because of my age. I know who I am and what I feel." A fire lit up your chest as you finally had broken out of the timidness you hated.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Declan took a step closer to you, his stare burning into you as he lowered his voice.

"You're the one who reads people. Tell me what you see in me." You matched him, standing so close to him you could feel his breath on your face as you gritted your teeth.

The air was thick. The silence of the house engulfing you both, your breath audible and quick. You thought you could almost hear your heart thudding against your chest.

Declan was the one to break away. Storming to his office with a hard slam of the door.

How did your conversation turn so heated?

That night Declan tossed and turned, his head filled with moments of you. He rolled over and gently woke up his wife with soft strokes on her shoulder blades.

"What?" Maud hummed, rolling her head over her shoulder to Declan.

"I'm awake." Declan pressed himself against his wife.

"I can feel that." Maud looked at him through a sleepy gaze.

"Let me touch you." His fingers glided over her skin until he reached the space between her legs. Maud moaned quietly as Declan began to part her folds with his finger.

"Declan..." Maud sighed as she pressed her backside into him, feeling his member hard against her.

Declan wasted no time in entering her. He closed his eyes as his dick pressed inside his wife. And all he could see through the darkness was your eyes looking up at his. The first time he had seen you in the kitchen. The bump in the hall, the incident in his study, every time he had caught you intensely listening to one of his speeches to the group, the crash against the floor. You underneath him. The tiny bit of skin his hand had managed to caress from the bottom of your shirt.

He had never thought of you before. Not with Maud, not with his own hand and imagination and he couldn't make sense of why that night he finished almost as fast as his inexperienced teenage self had once before.

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

It had been Declan's turn to avoid you from that day. He couldn't be too close to you without feeling his throat go dry, a sickening guilt and twisting conflict rising with it.

It was the evening you'd find out whether Venturer was a real contender against Corrinium.

The O'Hara house was filled with people eagerly waiting except one who had decided to leave the house for good.

The house erupted in cheers and celebrations as the phone call confirmed it for you all.

You watched through the window as Maud drove off, leaving Declan and Taggie behind.

"We did it!" Taggie squeezed you tightly before embracing her father and to your surprise, Declan had also pulled you into a tight hug. You had hoped no one picked up on the slight awkwardness that left the embrace when Declan moved onto join the others. You couldn't help but feel it.

The party went on and you tried to keep an eye on Declan without making it too obvious (like Rupert and Taggie had failed to).

When Rupert left Declan's side for another whiskey, (Taggie swiftly disappearing just after), Declan slipped away to his study. You followed.

"I'm sorry about Maud." You made your presence known as you watched him place his glass down on the desk, his back to you when he replied.

"Don't."

"Fine." You clenched your jaw, unsure of what to say next at the warning in his tone.

"What do you want from me?" Declan's voice had a hint of desperation. He turned to face you. You had seen this look before.

"I don't––"

"––No 'cause you followed me in here. You are everywhere I look. I can't even get a wink of sleep most nights without dreaming of two things. You or beating Tony fucking Baddingham. And I can't think of you because you're young enough to be my daughter and I'm a fucking hypocrite for telling Rupert to stay away from Taggie when I look at you in that dress and wonder what you would look like with it on this floor right now. I'm not doing it. I can't do this."

Declan's outburst kept your feet frozen in place. Had he really just admitted to wanting you as badly as you wanted him.

You felt your hand roll the zipper of your dress down your side, your body moved without force as you slipped the straps over your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"Fuck..." Declan barely breathed out the word. His stare devouring every inch of your skin.

"I'm not doing this." Declan uttered again barely even audible as if only to himself before striding towards you. His fingers found your hips as he thrust you against the door.

His lips were on yours before your back found the solid wood behind you.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up towards him, trying to bring your body as close to his own as possible. You needed every gap between you gone. You wanted to feel the heat of him even on this sticky summer evening.

"What am I doing?" Declan broke away and dropped to his knees, placing a firm hand on the middle of your stomach to hold you flush against the door.

There was a deep hunger in his eyes as he lifted one of your thighs up onto his shoulder, never breaking his gaze from your face to almost check if what he was doing was allowed.

You threw your head up, trying to find the air he had stolen from you, one hand finding a grip within his dark curls as your welcome reply.

"Please." You whispered.

Declan moved your panties to the side, a finger running over your folds, sending fire against your skin before he closed his mouth around you.

You let your eyes roll back as his tongue darted across your clit. Electricity filled your body with every moment of contact.

You felt his fingers circle lightly around your entrance. Your hand jumped from his thick curls to tightly grip the back of his own that pushed against your stomach. His grip on you felt as if it were all that was holding you up.

"You want me this badly?" Declan asked with a mixture of teasing and shock. The wetness of your heat coated the tip of his fingers and glistened on the dark hairs of his moustache.

"I've imagined this so many times." You admit honestly.

"I best live up to your expectations then." Declan inserted a finger inside of you, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips, which made Declan's cock twitch inside his boxer shorts. "Shhhh"

You placed your free hand over your mouth to which Declan smiled a toothy grin at you.

"Good girl" he purred.

Declan rose to his feet as he placed another finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you in a painfully slow motion that only made you ache for more.

Declan turned the lock on his door with his other hand before pulling himself away from you completely.

You pouted at the lack of contact to which he tutted.

"So impatient." He uttered as he undid his belt, pulling it from its loops and then kicking his trousers down.

Your eyes fell on the large member pressed against his underwear. The tip seeping precum through the material in a dark stain.

"Go to my desk." Declan ordered.

You almost ran over, Declan caught you by the waist and lifted you up onto it. Spreading your legs with his knee.

"Are you sure you want this?" Declan stripped himself of his shirt, revealing his chest covered with dark thick hair that you reached out to touch. This didn't feel real.

"More than anything." The words were so quiet but Declan seemed to hear them as he freed himself from his underwear.

You reached behind and unclasped your bra.

"Jesus..." He took a handful of your breast, squeezing you firmly as he stroked his member.

"Declan, please." You couldn't wait any longer. The ache pained you.

Declan didn't need to be told twice.

He tore your underwear down your legs and pressed his tip slowly into you.

You bit down on your lip hard to stop yourself from making any noise.

"Holy fuck..." Declan failed at being quiet. You were so tight against him he felt he could've finished inside of you within minutes.

You reached forward and hooked a grip behind his neck, encouraging him deeper inside of you.

"Fuck me please." you pleaded, trying to move your own hips to create some friction.

Declan took the hint and began thrusting into you quickly. His fingers almost bruising your skin as he held you steady on the desk.

The rattle of the belongings on the desk seemed to echo around the room alongside the slapping of skin.

Declan lifted you up, still inside of you and gently placed you down on the floor.

He hovered above you, just like he had once before, watching your face twist in pleasure as he fucked you.

You squeezed his shoulders, your nails leaving an impression whilst he brought you closer to your climax. You pressed your hips up into his creating hot friction against your clitoris, making you throb inside.

"Declan..." You tried to let him know; still trying to whisper to stay quiet.

"Cum for me, princess." Declan smirked, his stare never faltering as he rode you through to your end. He could feel you tighten around him only encouraging him to fuck you harder and deeper.

You bit down on your hand as your climax convulsed through you. Your body shaking in between Declan and the floor.

Declan moved you both effortlessly, lying on his back with you sat on top of him.

You leant ever so slightly forward, steadying yourself with your hand stretched out against his chest.

You smiled wickedly at him as you rolled your hips.

You felt exhausted by your own finish but knew you wanted to see the older man in the same state.

"That's a good girl." Declan held onto your hips, helping you pick up your pace.

His lips parted as he watched you ride him, sweat dripping down your skin mixing with his own as his dick twitched inside of you.

"Fuck (Y/n)." Declan cursed.

You shifted your hand to his neck, Declan almost laughed, flipping you again so that he was behind you. Both of you on your knees as he held you against his chest, his hand wrapped firmly around your neck with his opposite arm securely around your middle.

The sensation was almost unbearable as his thick member pumped in and out of you at such speed.

"You think you want to be a bad girl?" Declan hissed in your ear.

You could only shake your head.

"Bad girls get punished." Declan bit hard down on your shoulder and you fought to not cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"You're mine now." Declan's own proclamation brought himself to his own climax. He pulled out, spilling his seed over his own thighs to avoid finishing inside of you much to your own disappointment.

"I know you wanted that inside of you like the dirty girl you are." Declan teased you as he gave your throat one final soft squeeze.

You fell against him, both trying to catch your breath.

"Declan?" A voice and a knock came at the door.

"Shit..." The realisation of what had just happened and where it just happened hit Declan like a cricket bat to the face.

"I'll be out in a mo." Declan scrambled for his underwear and you did the same.

"Hurry up! I know that's where you're hiding the good stuff!" Bas' voice was more evident now and whilst he was definitely talking about the whiskey. The both of you couldn't help but laugh.

[clonecaptains]

On Tap

a jake 'hangman' seresin x shy!reader fic

warnings: none! unless you count jake being shirtless as one; she/her pronouns used; no use of y/n

word count: 1.7k

summary: you work for your family friend penny at the hard deck one summer and meet this handsome pilot....

a/n: i haven't written ?? something in over a year so thanks to glen powell for this i guess? and for yall encouraging me to write!! thank you for reading!

You don’t even remember how it started. And looking back you think maybe divine intervention must have led you here.

Your Aunt Penny – who isn’t even really your aunt, it’s what you’ve called her your whole life – invites you to work with her for the summer at the bar she owns. The Hard Deck.

Divine intervention or just your aunt thinking about you for a summer job has you quick to say yes. That’s how you find yourself working in a busy bar full of handsome men in uniform.

Penny, has you working odd jobs, filling in wherever you’re needed. Even if you never expected yourself to take a job like this – it was the freedom you wanted. To be somewhere else. Away from home.

What you didn’t know was that you’d find your new home here. And it wasn’t at Penny’s – you did live with her for a good while. But no, your new home would be a person. A tall dirty blond pilot with a flashy grin and strong arms that squeezed you tight.

You’d seen him around at the bar of course. He was hard to miss. There was something about him though that caught your eye more than any of the other pilots who frequented the joint.

Hangman they called him.

You asked Penny once what his real name was after he’d asked her for a couple beers. You tried to ask as casually as you could and if she suspected your crush on him, she didn’t say anything to tease. She did, however, tell you his name.

Jake Seresin.

You smiled a soft smile to yourself watching him take the beers back to his buddy. You liked the name. You liked him. You hadn’t spoken two words to him, but you had a crush.

Working with your aunt was already a fun kind of chaos, but you became downright eager to get to work for the chance you might see him.

When he was there? Your heart was in your throat as soon as he walked in. He’d take his sunglasses off and neatly hook them in the v of his shirt. The charisma that oozed from him sent electricity into your heart. The highest peak of a thrill was when he got close to the bar to make his order. You could hear his voice and you tried to be casual while he waited for Penny to hand him his drink.

It wasn’t long before Penny caught on. You were bummed on the nights he didn’t come in. And she saw how you lit up when he walked through the door no matter how much you tried to hide it.

That’s when she began to meddle. Only a little of course. But she saw something that you hadn’t. She’d seen Jake’s quick glances in your direction. She was surprised he didn’t say anything at first. He was usually quick on the draw to talk to a cutie.

She’d get to the bottom of it.

The first chance arose when he came in one night. You couldn’t help but smile a little when he came in. He was alone tonight but he didn’t seem to mind. He liked the atmosphere. The bar would be full of pilots soon and locals, and that energy was something he loved.

He headed straight for the bar, and you could feel your heart pounding harder and harder with each step he made. Suddenly the glass in your hand really, really needed to be dried off. You saw him quickly put his sunglasses on his shirt, and you made eye contact with him right has he did his little toothpick trick in his mouth. You know your eyes must have widened when his smile did.

Yeah, this glass really needs to be dry. This one in particular.

His Texas accent came out heavy when he asked Penny for a drink. She poured it but then handed it to you.

“Give this to Jake, will you? I gotta get this.” And before you could blink, his drink was thrust in your hand, and she was answering her phone. You didn’t have time to think that this was an obvious set up because the panic had set in that you had to hand this to him.

Jake was standing on the other side of the bar, waiting. His smile was growing. If you didn’t know any better, he was enjoying the flustered look on your face.

“Hi,” he said stretching out his hand to reach for his drink.

“Hi,” you answered back, breaking into a shy smile. You met him halfway to put the drink in his hand. His fingers touched yours in the exchange and you felt warmth grow on your skin.

“Jake,” he said as he grabbed the glass in his other hand and reached for you with his right.

You gave your name and took his hand. When your palms clasped, he squeezed and gave you a little wink.

“I’ve seen you in here lately,” he continued, “nice to meet you.” Another wink.

You meekly pulled your hand from his, and he took his first sip of beer. His eyes on you the whole time. You think all the moisture in your mouth must have evaporated from the heat of his gaze.

He wandered over to the dartboard and started to play. You stood frozen where you stood, and a little nudge from Penny broke you out of your stupor.

“Everything ok?” You asked and started to dry a different glass this time, one that actually needed it.

She nodded with a slight knowing smile. She could see the look on your face. You knew she could, but you tried to hide it.

She actually did get a phone call. Normally she wouldn’t answer while working, but it gave her the perfect opportunity to nudge you towards that handsome pilot.

She’d get another chance to nudge that next afternoon.

The two of you were in the bar when she grabbed a notebook of things she was working on. You were wiping down a table, and she called your name.

“Let’s go outside for a bit,” she motioned out back. You shrugged and followed her outside.

The sky was golden. And you squinted a little as your eyes adjusted. Penny sat down, notebook in hand and began to write. Write what you didn’t know or care. Because when you saw the crowd of pilots on the beach your attention was drawn there.

You spotted Jake immediately. Most of the pilots had taken their shirts off, and you managed to catch him as he was pulling off his black tee. You panicked when his glance turned your way. The sunglasses on his face didn’t hide where he looked – at you.

You felt a bolt of lightning, and you almost dropped the drink you had in hand.

“Sit,” Penny smiled and gave you a knowing pat on the back.

You did sit, and you watched them play football on the beach. Your eyes trained on Jake. It gave you a thrill knowing that he knew you were watching. You knew he was a showoff, but you liked to think he did really want you out there.

They weren’t close enough for you to tell exactly what was going on, and you couldn’t make out what they were saying. You could hear the occasional tweet from the whistle and the general chaos of yelling when someone scored.

At one point, you saw Maverick wave at Penny, and you smiled. You loved seeing their little interactions.

When the sun started to set, the game was coming to an end. The pilots dispersed; laughter rang out as the pockets of them split. But not Jake. He was headed right for the bar. His tee shirt in his hand, and you could see the sheen of sweat on his skin from where you sat. He got closer and you felt panic again.

You made up some excuse to go inside to Penny. And for the life of you – you don’t know why you did.

Not straying too far inside, you lingered by the door. You heard Jake walk up the steps and greet Penny.

“Where’d she go?” His voice muffled but you could still hear.

“Inside,” Penny nodded in the direction of the bar. “You better go in there and ask her out. Or I’ll set you up on a date with her myself.” Your heart jumped. There was a lump in your throat you couldn't swallow.

“But put your shirt on Jake, you’ll scare the girl to death.” You could hear the smile in her voice, and you didn’t stick by the door to hear what he said in return.

You headed for the bar, something safe to hide behind. Even though you wanted him to ask you out, it scared you to death. He made your knees weak, despite the thrill he gave you every time you saw him.

The back door creaked, and you felt sick and excited all at once. You glanced in that direction in time to see him pull his shirt on. It stuck to him, and he pinched some of the fabric in his fingers to pull it off his skin.

The blood pounding in your ears was loud, and it only grew as he got closer.

You were the only two people in the bar. You knew of course by now he was in there for you, and there wasn’t a single doubt in your mind now.

“Hi,” he said with the biggest grin you’d seen on him yet. He tacked on your name after his greeting, and you could’ve sworn that was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to you.

“Hi Jake,” you replied back, testing out his name on your lips. “Can I get you something?” You asked him with a smile, you wanted to see what he’d say back.

He leaned on the counter. He was close. You could smell the saltwater and sand on him.

“I don’t think it’s on tap,” he clicked his tongue.

“Oh?” you laughed softly, you know what he’s getting at. But you don’t dare stop him. You’ve been dying for him to flirt with you more, even if you weren’t sure what to do with his attention. “Try me?”

“Don’t suppose I could order a date with you? To go?”

“As luck would have it,” your face is warm, and you are beyond flustered but you find your words somehow. “We do have that, but only for you.”

“Is it available tonight?"

The smile on your face hurt your cheeks, and it matched his grin. Like before, he reached for you. Only this time you didn’t let go.

[denwritesandcries]

Fall(ing for You) – S.C

Pairing: sam carpenter x soft goth!reader

Summary: Sam is certain that Tara's new quiet friend may turn out to be Ghostface, unfortunately – or not –, that friend is you.

or, it takes the help of tara and a dog for sam to finally come to her senses.

Word count: 6,0k.

Content: scream 6 but without the killing, r's 23, cursing, wingman tara ft. yr dog, jokes abt r being ghostface, fluff, pining, sam falling first AND harder, silly movie references.

Note: hey guys, It's been a while since I've written for scream but I rewatched it recently and finally got some inspiration again! I describe the reader a little more in this but it won't really affect anything if you choose to ignore it.

English is not my first language.

Tara made a new friend.

Sam still isn't sure exactly, but the only plausible explanation for the way Tara has been acting lately is that her sister met someone interesting enough to keep her attention so that she gave everyone a break from her tantrums and reckless behavior since their new start outside of Woodsboro.

Now, that could be a good thing, it had been months since the kids started college and they were all doing relatively well. Mindy had Anika, Chad had Ethan and also there was Quinn, even though she wasn't very close to anyone. Tara should have someone too.

The problem is that Sam has no idea who this person is. Tara just won't tell her.

You see, Sam understands that she might have been a little too protective of her sister and that this made Tara's behavior become defensive towards her. Her new therapist – after she got rid of that quack – is helping her work through that, okay? But curiosity and worry were eating away at her insides. The curfews, the tasers and pepper sprays, and especially the ID checks were all important to keep them safe, dammit! Mindy and Chad had no problem with it, and it was only after all the appropriate measures were in place that Sam could breathe and let these new people be a part of their lives. Not knowing this so-called friend, let alone who they were, was driving her to the brink of a breakdown.

She was trying to give her some space, probing with subtle questions here and there and the most she got was an eye roll and ‘It’s just a sophomore I met at the film club, haven't you said I should try to be part of something that didn’t involve frat parties?’

Well, at least it wasn’t a boyfriend, given the lack of dreamy sighs, giggles into the phone and late-night escapades. That was good. They already had enough problems to deal with and a new relationship so quickly was the same as asking for a ghostface to go for them again and Sam hadn’t been back in Tara’s life long enough to know how to deal with this part of being a big sister yet.

Sam had understood that she wouldn’t meet this mysterious person for a while, at least until her sister’s tantrum had passed, and between two shitty jobs and trying to keep a structured life being responsible for a bunch of teenagers in the big city, she couldn’t find it in herself to insist on the subject any further and get the risk of causing a fight. She thought it would be forgotten.

Now just imagine Sam's surprise when she came home one night after a long, exhausting shift, expecting to eat the leftover pizza she had hidden in the fridge and fall into a deep sleep, only to be knocked over by an noisy and strange dog with a piece of pizza in its mouth as soon as she opened the apartment door. Her pizza.

“Koda!” Someone called. Someone unfamiliar. It wasn’t just the dog, there was a stranger in her house.

Sam’s hand instinctively moves to reach for the taser hidden in her jacket when a pair of black-clad legs show up in her vision. Does Ghostface work with dogs now? She wonders in confusion for a moment, and has given up on the voice changer?

The only thing stopping her from tasing this potential killer in front of her is the pure bewilderment and Tara’s laughter filling the room.

“Oh my god,” the figure bends down, picking up the dog who turns out to be a very excited puppy, the pizza falling from its mouth and onto her shirt, getting it all over her, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s a girl, a face she’s never seen before, looking completely mortified.

“Hey, Sam,” Tara stops beside her, a barely hidden tone of satisfaction in her voice, “This is my friend. I thought you’d like to meet her.”

It's safe to say that Sam didn't like Tara's new friend at all.

“You didn’t think about telling me you were bringing someone?” Sam exclaimed, rubbing her temples wearily, “Especially that Lydia Deetz project right there? I almost shocked her in the middle of the hallway!”

Quinn shifted from where she was leaning against the counter in the small impromptu meeting and didn’t bother to hold back her laugh, “Nah, I think Tara would fit that role better.”

“Quinn,” Sam groaned exasperatedly.

“If I had told you you would have said no,” Tara shrugged.

“Yes! Because we don’t know her!”

It was quite awkward sitting on the couch in their living room less than five feet away from the kitchen and being able to hear every word spoken as if you weren't right there, with your messy dog ​​happily chewing on the sock on your ankle.

This wasn't the turn you expected your night to take when you decided to accept Tara's sudden invitation for a movie night, visiting her off-campus for the first time since you became friends.

You met her at the start of the school year, the day she showed up for a film club meeting before anyone else arrived, well, anyone except you. She seemed completely lost and suspicious, even though she was clearly struggling not to show it, which made you like her right away.

Getting attention and starting conversations was never really your thing, this whole club thing wasn't either, honestly, but you ended up being one of the last older members to join with most of the others having recently graduated and the responsibility of looking after the new freshmans gradually fell on you. Most of the time you kept to yourself, preferring the behind-the-scenes side of things to participating in the long-winded debates of high school teens obsessed with slashers and making Stab parodies, but you noticed the way Tara seemed desperate for any sense of normalcy beneath her laid-back facade and the whispers of murder that haunted her.

You took what seemed like a rabid kitten under your wing and ended up cornered by the personification of a Doberman because of it. Talk about doing good deeds and stepping out of your comfort zone. What a joke.

Tara’s older sister, Sam, if you got it right, stared at you with narrowed, suspicious eyes – just like Tara when you first approached her – towering over your figure that tried to look smaller than it actually was on the couch, as if she was trying to learn every little hidden detail about you.

“So…” you began hesitantly, wanting to break the awkward silence that had ensued, “you have such a beautiful house.”

“Aren’t you too old to hangout with a freshmen?" Sam cut in coldly, one eyebrow perfectly arched in distrust.

You sighed, this conversation sure started off very well, “I’m 23,” you cleared your throat, “Tara’s in the same club as me, and I’ve just been helping her with some classes I used to take when I first started here.”

You hear Tara’s distinct chuckle, clearly amused by your frustration, which doesn’t help your situation much. What a wonderful friend, indeed.

Sam hummed with fake indifference and the other two housemates watched the exchange intently, eyes darting between you like they were at a tennis match, amused by the sight of Sam trying to intimidate the poor unsuspecting twit that you were.

A great friend, for sure. Ugh, this is why you don’t sponsor obviously troubled kids.

It’s not like Sam Carpenter is really intimidating or scaring you out the way she seems to want to, she has bags under her eyes and a greasy pizza stain on her shirt and you’re a grown woman, for God’s sake! It’s just that it was extremely embarrassing to cause a scene like that, especially with someone who you really wanted to make a good first impression.

Interacting so much socially lately was becoming relatively exhausting and you expected it wouldn't become a thing, as you were feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. You hoped this would be the last big meeting you had for a while. Tara had told you a lot about her sister, mainly about how it was a pain in the ass to always have someone hovering over her, but it was something you never took seriously because of the way she sounded when she talked about it, too loving for someone who hated the situation so much. No, Sam was important and Tara had insisted that you meet her after doing the same with the twins just a few days ago. You had carefully planned how it would happen, what clothes you would wear and what you would say and now your chance to make things right was ruined, the words seeming to have escaped you in a flash. You were reserved, quiet, small in the midst of so much hustle and bustle, used to watching everything go by from the safety of the shadows. Being a mouse was easy.

“Is that all you have to say?”

Less easy when caged with a lion.

“Look,” you tried again, silently squirming as your pup start sniffing Sam’s combat boots furiously as you stood to pick him up, “I really didn’t want to cause any trouble or misunderstanding, Tara called me earlier while I was walking this little guy and insisted it would be okay if I came over for a movie. I can leave now if you want to, I’m really sorry for… well, all of this.”

You noticed Sam's expression became conflicted, as if she didn't know exactly what to make of you standing in the middle of her living room without showing any threat and wasn't used to people actually listening to her on sight. Still, she wasn't going to give up that easily.

“Great,” Sam nodded, her voice sounding less firm, “go then.” She pointed directly at your dog, now sitting at her feet with its fluffy head tilted to the side in a guiltily innocent manner, “And make sure to take that pizza thief with you.”

(You swear he looked personally offended.)

“What? No!” Tara seemed to realize that her little game could backfire and came out from behind the counter in your defense.

“Tara—”

“Come on, Sam, it's movie night!” She stomped her foot loudly, “I refused the invite to Jason's party for that, we were marathoning all the Texas Chainsaw Massacres!”

You don’t even have to be good at reading people to know that Sam had lost that fight the moment Tara looked at her with pleading eyes, knowing that there was no way to blame her for simply doing what she asked.

That didn’t stop Sam from rolling her eyes and huffing in irritation.

“Fine,” she practically growled, shifting her attention back to you, “But I’m gonna keep an eye on you, so you better not act all smart and keep that fleabag away from me.”

“His name’s Koda.” You pointed out, before softening, “And thank you, I promise I’m not gonna—”

“Shush.”

Sam was sure this was all part of an act of yours, just the first step to infiltrate their lives and pull the rug out like others have done before, because no one in their right mind would sit quietly next to someone who nearly shocked and threatened them in many ways just a few minutes ago.

Especially if that someone is burning holes in your head with their eyes, like she's doing now.

Sam watches shamelessly and intrigued, shooting daggers at your figure as you lean back with Tara babbling enthusiastically between you, your puppy completely knocked out on her lap, oblivious to the sounds of death and fake blood spurting from the TV. She notices the way you effectively ignore her, responding to Tara’s remarks with genuine interest, even if your voice doesn’t match her enthusiasm.

You remained quiet beyond those moments and the tiredness along with your lack of sudden movements made Sam feel secure enough to leave the room and finally take a shower – because along with everything she never saw much fun in these movies like Tara –, warning you that it was better for everyone to finish the night when the movie ended.

(She also forced Quinn to take her place on the couch and promise to scream if anything happened. You didn't comment on that either.)

Sam only falls asleep when she hears the sounds of goodbyes coming from the living room and the door house being closed, finally relaxing after all the interaction, deciding that it was enough. You could have been at her house, but that doesn't mean she would let you come over again.

You come back, because of course Tara doesn’t give a damn about Sam’s warnings about being careful around strangers – incessantly claiming that you’re not a stranger – and there you are at the next game night that Chad insisted on making a tradition.

At least there’s no sign of the shirt-destroying furball this time and there are pizzas smelling good on the kitchen counter.

“‘Sup, Sam!” Chad greeted loudly as she walked through the door, waving excitedly from the couch, “We’re playin’ uno!”

Her eyes landed on you, who waved at her with a small, tight smile, awkwardly sandwiched between Anika and Ethan, the way you stood out among them so comical that Sam suppressed a snort. She decided to join in without much protest, someone responsible still had to watch you, after all.

Sam wouldn’t admit to anyone, absolutely anyone, that she was enjoying the evening, listening to the heated exchanges as everyone got competitive. Strangely, she noticed that you didn’t try to engage much in the conversation, just like the other night, seeming happy to just be there. She thought you had been withdrawn then because of her behavior towards you, but maybe you were just shy.

That made her raise an eyebrow, Tara didn’t usually embrace introverts. Actually, she had always been pretty popular even before Sam left, if she remembered correctly, so this was new. She felt a small piece of curiosity spark inside her instead of more mistrust as she expected and it disconcerted her.

“The whole point of the 7 card is that you're not supposed to talk, man!” Mindy throwing chips at Ethan interrupted Sam's flow of thoughts.

“This rule is stupid! The manual doesn't even mention it, read it for yourself!” Ethan shuffled the cards wildly – ​​everyone at the table had seen his hand – pointing, “And you’re talking too!”

“Whatever! Nobody reads the fuckin manual to play uno, Ethan!”

Tara groaned, “Guys, just shut up and everybody buys a card.”

“But that’s not how you play!”

She decided to abandon the game and all the fuss in favor of getting some air and a slice of pizza and was surprised to find that her favorite was still untouched, which was a miracle in such a crowded house.

“Tara said that you liked this flavor,” your voice coming from nearby startled her and Sam saw you gesture to the box in front of her, “My treat, for the other day.”

She cleared her throat hesitantly, “You didn’t have to.”

“I did,” you dismissed with a wider smile, “My dog ​​left you without dinner.”

Sam didn’t respond, but you leaned against the counter next to her anyway, picking at the dark polish on your nails casually, listening to your friends arguing in the background.

“Get tired of the crowd?” Sam asked, deciding that ignoring you wasn’t an option since you clearly weren’t leaving.

“Yeah,” you agreed, shrugging with an odd laugh, “I guess I’ve had enough socializing for one day.”

Sam wasn’t sure why she didn’t just send you away then, seizing the perfect chance to dismiss you like she’d wanted all along and avail everyone's presence to remind that you weren’t welcome, but that strange spark flared in her and made her smile unconsciously, more sincere than the previous tense ones.

“Oh, I know what you mean,” she agreed slowly.

Your expression brightens in surprise, as if you expected a cold, blunt rejection or maybe a slap (probably both) and Sam feels a bit guilty by it. Sighing, she waves you towards the apartment’s tiny balcony, silently inviting you to join her, to which you respond with a firm nod as you watch her unwind the chain on the sliding door – they keep everything locked up tight now – and follow her.

Sam swears she’s not doing this to be nice or anything, all she wants is to repay you for your politeness, that’s all.

The night breeze is refreshing and sends pleasant shivers down your arms and shoulders as Sam leans against the railing and the two of you fall silent. It’s pleasant, actually.

Sam takes a moment to look at you, like, really look at you for the first time since you met and her breath hitches.

Your relaxed features look cheerful and are well-emphasized by the makeup you’re wearing – she tries to search her memory and gets frustrated when she can’t remember if it’s the same style as the night you met – your hair blows a little in the wind and your clothes just fit. Every single thing about you seems to have been specially made to be this way, charming, beautiful.

Your elbow brushes hers in the small space as you lean in to better contemplate the dreary, empty New York sky and Sam’s skin is burning and she doesn’t understand why.

Sam didn’t realize, through all the haze of anger and suspicion and tantrum, until she was touching a pretty girl, that you were, in fact, a pretty girl.

Shit.

“You’re trying so hard not to like her that I’m getting embarrassed for you.”

It’s late. Everyone has already left, including you, who went early claiming you had to work the next morning. Tara should be in bed by now, but she’d be upset if Sam told her to do that, so she doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sam dismisses, packing up the last of the leftover pizza to put in the fridge.

“But you do,” Tara hums smugly, stifling a yawn, “Just admit that you were wrong and that I’ve made a friend who’s not a potential serial killer. And that you might have a crush on her. I saw you two on the balcony.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she grumbles, “And I wasn’t wrong for being worried that you brought home a stranger without telling me, even if she’s not dangerous.”

“Ha!” Tara points out, “So you admit she’s no danger.”

Sam sighs tiredly, bringing a hand up to massage her temple, “She can keep coming over for movie nights or whatever if that’s what you're asking me.”

Tara cheered, jumping up from where she was sitting on the counter to finally go to sleep. She stopped just before turning the corner to her room.

“Seriously though,” she caught Sam’s attention, “You guys have more in common then you might think, that’s why I like her. I think you could too, if you get to know her better.”

“That’s impossible, Tar,” Sam says weary, looking at her sister with the most done expression, “I don’t ‘get to know’ anyone, I already have all the people I need in my life.”

“Maybe you’ll be surprised,” she shrugged, “It would be good for you anyway.”

Sam's approval was all Tara needed to make you a regular fixture in their lives and make movie nights an official thing. Sam usually walks in when they're in full swing, with the two of you deep in conversation about the completely random movie you decided to watch that day, and now she greets you back instead of ignoring like she did before and you look happier every time she does it openly.

She finds excuses to wander around the living room and kitchen when she hears Tara pause the tv for whatever reason, just so she doesn't leave you unsupervised in their house – it was still too early to rule out all the care, after all. It ends up making her feel kind of ridiculous, because, hell, she shouldn't have to make excuses to wander around her own house! But you guys talk during these moments, sometimes.

Sam learns more about you as time goes on, and she tells herself that it's just gathering information, that you're not friends at all, but she finds herself soaking up every bit of detail. What are you majoring in, how long have you been in town, if you live close to campus like most students or if you have roommates like them.

(Actually, when she thinks about it now, Sam probably sounded more like a maniac trying to find out where you live, but at least you didn’t call her out on it.)

Then movie nights are joined by study sessions that Tara insists on having as her first week of finals approaches, and you manage to convince Sam to let you bring your puppy too so he won’t be alone for so many hours and she can act a little more normal around you and have a conversation that doesn’t sound like a job interview. You tell her about the movies you like – which consist of more than just an extensive list of slashers like she initially assumed – in a loud and excited tone instead of your usual repressed one, and it stirs something inside her, which leads to several other facts. Your favorite color, what kind of music you like, what you do when her sister isn't dragging you somewhere, and why you decided to adopt a dog so young when you already had so many other responsibilities.

“He helps me not feel alone,” you replied, looking deep into her eyes, “my roommate graduated last year and moved out. I guess I couldn’t stand coming home to empty houses, you know? And he’s my guard dog, he takes care of me and I take care of him. The little guy might be small but knows how to do damage.”

She could relate to that, in part.

And then you start asking too, suddenly and Sam finds herself with a dilemma after so long avoiding your attempts to get to know her. She’d rather remain closed off.

But a trade isn’t a fair trade unless she gives you something back, is it? And you’ve been quenching her thirst for knowledge for a long time now, you gave her a lot.

So, during one night when you insist on helping her make dinner, she confides in you – somewhat reluctantly – that she really enjoys cooking, especially healthier meals. She doesn't look at you, nor does she say it clearly but still, you listen and Sam is surprised when she finds herself speaking.

“You really should ask her out.”

And of course, Tara is always close enough to raise an eyebrow with a knowing look at her on practically every occasion.

“I've told you already, it's not like that.”

“You're cuddling her dog right now.”

“Just so he stays quiet and doesn't disturb you two! Shouldn't you be studying, by the way?”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

Sam can almost, almost admit that you're her friend too.

(Though she kinda wished it were a little more than that.)

Movie nights evolve into sleepovers, because Sam argues that it’s simply too late and dangerous for you to come back alone and she feels embarrassed – and guilty as much – when Quinn brings up that it has always been dangerous and she didn’t mind letting you go before, when she didn’t care about you.

Now there are some of your clothes in a drawer Tara set aside for you just like a colorful food bowl in the living room for your dog – Mindy jokes that it's theirs now – and there’s rarely a day that goes by where she doesn’t see you.

And when you don’t come over, Tara makes sure to remind her of how anxious she looks waiting for a knock on the door and how she lights up when you greet her first when you finally arrive.

“I swear that now she comes here more to see you than me.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Yeah, sure,” she huffs, “And when are you gonna make a move again?”

“Never, Tara.”

Sam hasn't heard a thing about you in days. Tara said yesterday that you ended up getting really busy with a college project, preparing a presentation that, her sister quotes, 'needs to be perfect because public speaking is horrible and there's a big chance I'll embarrass myself.'

It's not that Sam asked, it's just that she doesn't text you often and Tara thought it would be convenient to talk about it out loud when she was on the phone with Mindy.

Anyway, it doesn't really matter, it's not like you two are close. You are Tara's friend. If it weren't for her, you two wouldn't even have a reason to see each other. There's no reason to be so stressed.

But she misses you anyway. She's having a shitty day at her shitty job and everything seems to go by even slower because Sam knows that when she gets home at night you probably won't be on the couch waiting with the soft smile she's grown accustomed to looking forward and if she has to deal with another group of rude teenagers she'll freak out.

The sound of the bell ringing at the entrance draws Sam’s attention back to the counter and she ends up face to face with the person who has been on her mind all day.

“Sam!” you approached with a tired smile, your dog wagging his tail happily on a leash in one hand and a paper bag in the other, “I was looking for you.”

You'd never visited her at work before, she didn't even know you knew where it was, having only mentioned it in passing, but there you were, with the smile she wanted to see and bags under your eyes.

“Hi,” she cleared her throat, feeling her face heat up. Damn, she looked like a teen girl with a crush, “I didn't expect to see you here, what, uhm, what do you need?”

You snorted at her flustered attending voice. Seeing her show any kind of nervousness was very unusual.

“Tara called me today demanding I get out of the house for a bit and ‘touch some grass’, so I decided to bring this buddy along, he was begging me for a proper walk,” you shrugged, “And she asked me to bring your lunch.”

Sam paused at that, Tara definitely didn't make lunches for her, much less go to the trouble of delivering them like that.

“...Thank you,” she accepted the paper bag you held out delicately, eyeing the package suspiciously. You held back a giggle when she looked at you again, “Anything else?”

“Oh, um,” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, obviously nervous, “I’m taking Koda to the park nearby and I thought maybe you’d like to come with us. If you can, of course.”

Sam couldn’t really, it was still a few hours before her shift ended at the coffee shop, but she didn’t want you to leave without the promise of seeing you again.

“Of course,” she found herself replying instead, “I can meet you there in a few minutes.”

She knew she’d made the right decision when you gifted her with one of your warm smiles.

“Okay! Nice,” you nod, absently twirling your dog’s leash around your fingers, startled by the sudden, loud bark he lets out at the delay, breaking the oblivious bubble you were in, “Alright, I should go before he starts trying to jump over the counter.”

Sam barely hears the sound of the bell announcing your departure over how loudly her heart pounds in her ears.

It takes a lot of willpower and her last pack of good cigarettes to convince her insufferable coworker — who’d watched the whole thing with a bored expression and loudly chewing gum while cleaning the coffee machine — to cover the rest of her shift. He ended up ordering her lunch too, thinking it might be something special, only to complain when he was met with a sad peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a carton of warm apple juice. Tara really didn’t cook… but then why had she done that?

(She laughed at him anyway.)

“You owe me, Carpenter,” he grumbled, taping a note to her arm that had fallen out of the package.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Sam was out the door before he could change his mind.

Taking a deep breath of the damp autumn air, she picked up the yellow post-it note curiously, recognizing her sister’s handwriting immediately.

‘u looked so depressed lately that I

decided to send u a gift

DO something this time

good luck!!’

She knew. She fucking knew that smartass had set her up. Sam should have guessed it before. Tara would never let her get away with this without doing something with her own hands. At least she hadn’t brought Mindy into the scheme this time.

The park you had mentioned was more like a small square and with the rainy cold weather of the last few days, it was pretty empty. Sam could spot you without difficulty, sitting on one of the few benches watching the scenery and she made her presence known when she got close enough.

“Can he even sit still sometimes?” Sam asked, hands in her bomber jacket pockets, pointing with her chin at the dog playing alone on the grass. You moved a little so she could sit next to you and subtly moved closer when she did.

“It rained last night and he's a big fan of puddles,” you chuckled, “I guess he's just excited, we haven't been out much lately.”

He wasn't the puppy he'd been when Sam had first seen him a few months ago and the sight of him running around the trees chasing flowers and stray twigs was actually quite funny.

“He's so covered in mud that it looks like a bear.”

“Well, his name's Koda,” you pointed out amusedly, “I would have called him Pongo but he always looked more like a small bear than a dalmatian anyway.”

She snorted, “If you say so.”

Sam couldn't remember a time when she felt so relaxed, with the weight of your shoulder resting against hers, enjoying the weather of the early season, the ground covered in orange and yellow leaves framing your surroundings.

She couldn't stop the restlessness she felt inside her chest, watching your profile. Feeling warm inside, but also shivering with a terrible fear of ruining everything. Do something, do something, do something echoing like a mantra in her head.

Sam took a deep breath. She'd faced murderers before, for God's sake! She could be braver than that.

"So..." She coughed, "Tara set this up, you know? The lunch stuff and everything."

You turned your attention to Sam, raising an eyebrow with a confused look.

"She did?" You asked, "Why would she do that?"

It's now or never, Carpenter. Focus.

“She did it so I could see you,” she looked away, “Because I missed you. Because I…” She felt your hand reach for hers and noticed a fallen leaf on your shoulder.

“Because you…?” your voice echoed anxious. She could do this. She's going to do this.

“I—”

A loud howl scared the two of you and you turned to see Koda behind a pile of leaves, pupils dilated and jumping up and down.

“Oh no.”

“What?” She stammered.

“He saw a pigeon.”

You see, Sam is not a pet person. She has only had one guinea pig her entire life and only before her father left and a 6-year-old Tara let it escape from its cage never to be seen again – poor Darwin would always be remembered – she does not know how to handle dogs, much less big, excitable ones like yours.

Yet she grabs the leash from your hands when you finally reach your dog who won't stop barking at a tree and ignores your warnings that he is heavy and strong, Sam, it will end up dragging you away and tries to gently pull him to convince him to let go so you can get out of there. Because she is big and strong and she wants to show you that she can handle a mere happy dog.

He acknowledges her like she wanted and also drags her like you said he would.

This manages to surprise her more than the first stab wound she took, how one minute she’s standing still, telling your silly dog ​​to walk in a confident condescending tone, and the next she’s running at full speed through the trees and puddles of the park, your worried voice ringing behind her, as does your laughter.

“Sam!” you exclaimed from a distance, hands cupped around your mouth and dark red scarf falling from your neck, “You need to stop!”

She does stop, yes, but only after your dog has already circled her and Sam must be a ridiculous sight with a colorful leash wrapped around her legs and a dog panting with its tongue out next to her.

“Oh my god,” you lean in closer, unable to hide the amusement in your voice, “Are you okay?”

Sam huffed, feeling a strand of hair fall across her face: “A little help would be appreciated.”

“Sure,” you laughed, reaching out to carefully untangle it, “Maybe I should call him Pongo after all.”

She rolled her eyes: “Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you, it’s just cute.”

Sam opened her mouth to retort, only to realize how close you two were, with your hands resting on her shoulders to steady her and your faces just inches apart, your breath tickling her skin. You seemed to realize the same thing, tongue coming out to wet your lips, your gaze fixed on her mouth.

Do something. Do something. Do something.

She finally does something. She kisses you.

It's all a mix of sensations, she feels when you sigh, breathing through your nose in surprise and satisfaction, she feels where your hands tighten on the fabric of her jacket and tastes you, warm lips contrasting with the cold skin of your cheeks, with traces of coffee, lipstick and something else so undeniably you that Sam swears her heart might stop.

You pull apart hesitantly, breathing fast, noses touching, eyes shining, and she feels herself falling, literally. Your dog jumps on your waist, demanding to be petted, and you fall, taking Sam with you.

Landing in a pile of leaves is more uncomfortable than the movies make it out to be, but Sam can’t find it in herself to protest when you’re the one on top of her. She smiles and you laugh out loud. She didn’t mess up.

“You’re covered in leaves,” you say, running your fingers through her hair, “And your face is smeared with black lipstick.”

She scoffs, “I wonder who’s responsible for that.”

“He is,” you point innocently at the dog standing next to you.

Sam rolls her eyes, but cups your face with her cold hands to pull you close again, and the second kiss she gives you is just as magical as the first.

Tara doesn’t expect to find a dog taking up the entire couch for the first time in days when she comes back from Chad’s dorm after sending you off on a fake mission to find her sister. Yet, hours later, there it is, with one of the sneakers she forgot to put away when she got home from class stuck in his mouth and trails of mud and leaves across the room.

“C’mon, man, that’s not a toy!”

She hears a laugh and finds herself face to face with Sam, looking completely filthy despite the sound of the shower running in the hallway and Tara knows Quinn isn’t home yet. Oh.

“So, you finally did something?”

Sam nods solemnly, pointing to the dark kiss etched into her jaw.

“I did.”

[livinginshambles]

Not ridiculous at all | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You are part of the marauders, always having felt special when they called you part of the gang, but also consequently too embarrassed to admit to wanting to be more feminine, afraid that they would no longer deem you cool enough to hang out with you. You are hurt by James' comments and James might realise something when you're avoiding him.

Notes: Best friend!James, he's a bit stupid, Lily is a sweet friend, arguments, so maybe a little angsty, but not really, classic cliche tropes like friends to lovers, misunderstandings, pining (I literally just dreamt this so it's a bit patchy) and I know it's very stereotypical but that's why it's just fanfiction :)

(PS) I haven't written before, just wanted to get this out of my system. English is my third language, and this fic is not proofread because I'm way too lazy for that! Enjoy!

Part two Masterlist

__________________

You've grown up with James Potter and have been part of the marauders since the very beginning. You always took 'being one of the guys' or 'part of the gang' as a compliment, it left you feeling giddy as if you were included in some secret group that only you had the privilege of belonging to.

But sometimes you would sit in the girls dormitory and despite your friends laughing and chatting about, you would feel a wave of loneliness wash over you. They often did activities together and by now, 6th year at Hogwarts, they've managed to stop asking you to join them as you've always dutifully replied that it 'wasn't your thing'.

I mean, what would the guys think of you? It would be too embarrassing to admit to them, or anyone for that matter, that you would love to be dolled up for once. To go shopping with your friends, be included in movie nights, asked by Alice if she could test some makeup on you, or read and gossip about the new romance novels that were the new hype.

Especially now when you sat on your bed, part of the circle in which they were discussing plans to go dress shopping.

"You should absolutely join us!" Alice squealed in delight. You were shaken out of your train of thoughts with a huh and realized the conversation had taken a turn somewhere and now included you too. Marlene and Lily nodded fervently in agreement but you bashfully shook your head.

"Nah, can you imagine me in a dress?" You joked, but Dorcas caught the curious and somewhat longing look in your eyes at the mention of getting ready for the Yule ball.

"I think you would look great actually. And besides, you can treat yourself too sometime you know. You're not obligated to stick with the marauders all the time." The girls in the dorm once again all agreed and you smiled at their kindness.

"Since when are you interested in things like the Yule ball?"

You snapped your head up at James to see his questioning eyes and then quickly averted your own in a flustered manner as if one of your greatest secrets had just been uncovered. "I just think it seems nice, that's all, I'm not even going or anything", you defended. You felt slightly embarrassed by James' face which wore a weirded out expression.

"Well you're not really the type to go to such an event anyway right?", James remarked. You did your best to hide your frown at his immediate agreement. Was it that bad that you'd hoped he would say something along the lines of 'what are you talking about, go enjoy yourself at the party' or something like that?

"Besides I can't imagine you in a dress, all made up, it'd just look so ridiculous." James continued. Remus, ever the sweet and attentive boy glanced at you and noticed your slightly sacked shoulders in disappointment at his words.

"I mean you're just not that type of person, you know? Like completely opposite of Lily."

And with that your face felt like it burned from embarrassment. As if you didn't already know. That didn't mean you didn't want to be more like her sometimes.

Peter's eyes flicked with concern from James to you and back.

You felt hurt and forced yourself to stop tears welling up at his words, mustering up a grin, ready to agree with him but were interrupted by Sirius who had now also caught your change in mood.

"Prongs, you really have no tact at all, how are you expecting to even win Evans over with that?" He said in a playful manner as to not offend their whipped friend, but not fully succeeding.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" James looked slightly offended and Remus jumped in the conversation.

"That's just not a nice thing to say. It's different if you call me an ugly toad, but not Y/N! If she wants to go to the Yule Ball all dolled up, she definitely should." He shot you a supportive smile which you returned.

Peter nodded in agreement. "I don't think you'd look ridiculous at all," he told you sincerely. You subtly scooted a little closer to him and Remus.

"But it's Y/N, it'd just look weird, cause she's just not a proper girl like that, no offense." James shot back and gave you a smile at the last two words.

You saw Remus opening his mouth to retort but quickly intervened. "He's right." You told them. You just wanted this conversation to be over with already. It was awkward and painful for you as it was.

James didn't seem to get the memo, however, and kept on going, drilling your confidence further into the ground.

"See, she agrees." He turned to you. "It's not like you're ugly or anything but it'd be ridiculous. Like I said, you're not the type to be all beautiful and dressed up, hair done and all. I mean you're cool, but not pretty like that." He was clearly not done yet and started talking about Lily and her beauty at which point you abruptly got up and left.

"What's gotten into her?" James remarked with a frown.

Sirius and Remus didn't even bother to answer and just stared at him in disbelief.

The girls comforted you as you cried. Marlene barged in with ice cream, stolen from the kitchen in one hand and 5 spoons in the other. "What a jerk." She commented and thrust a spoon in your hand before plopping down in front of you with the rest of your friends.

Lily sighed frustratedly. "See this is why I don't like him at all. He's so rude and arrogant, and he-"

"- is right." You answered dejectedly. "I'm your friend, but not the type to join you guys and belong to your circle."

"Well that's only because you hang around the boys all the time," Alice argued. She nudged you. "But you know what, now that James is being a git, you can hang out with us!"

Dorcas gasped dramatically. "We could do a girls night! Treat ourselves a little", she jumped up. "I'll get the face masks and nail polish!"

Lily let go of you too and told you to sit up. "Come on, let me do your hair," she smiled.

With Marlene feeding you ice cream, your nails being polished by Alice, hair done by Lily and Dorcas reading the latest romance novel out loud while you were all wearing a facemask, you couldn't help but feel all warm inside.

"I love you guys."

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

You laughed and pushed Marlene teasingly off the bed.

"Hey, watch it! I just finished your right hand." Alice complained.

James was a moron. He was kind hearted (to most), popular, captain of the Quidditch team, good looking but a moron nonetheless. So he was absolutely clueless to find you missing from the common room yesterday evening and even more clueless when you were missing from your usual spot next to him at the Gryffindor table in the great hall, because he could not for the life of him think of a reason why you would sit with Alice and Frank instead.

He frowned and felt uneasy at the fact that you hadn't even looked at him, let alone come for a hug with your smile and said 'good morning' like usual. He shook the thoughts away. You were obviously allowed to have your own friends as well and not obligated to spend all your time with him.

The door of the great hall behind him opened and Lily Evans walked in, which was why instead of walking up to you to say something, he habitually turned to Lily instead.

"You look beautiful this morning as usual. I could put in the effort to match you when we go out together?" He shot her a wink and a coy smile but faltered slightly when his attempts at flirting got even less of a reaction out of her than usual.

James turned to Sirius with a questioning look, as if to ask 'you noticed that too right?' but Sirius simply shrugged. When James looked back at Frank and Alice, you were gone, having left the moment you felt his stare.

James started to ponder. 'Were you avoiding him? Surely you wouldn't, right? You two were friends after all, childhood friends. Childhood best friends even, for Merlin's sake! If you were upset with him, you'd definitely let him know.'

A week passed with you, sitting on the opposite sides of the classroom, seemingly having picked partners long before class because how else would you team up with random students before James could even blink?

He had now fully accepted that you were avoiding him. And with that, he meant 'accepting the possibility of that occurrence'. He was by no means going to accept your strange new behavior without doing anything.

The last drop though, was when he heard the news from Peter that you'd already left for Hogsmeade with the girls.

He frowned. 'You were kind', he reasoned. If you were upset with him, then he'd have to apologize. Quickly. Because it's been far too long without his best friend and he realized he missed you. Especially seeing you hang out with others.

"What did I do?" He finally asked his remaining friends.

"Really Prongs?" Remus couldn't help but ask. His friend just gave him a look that said 'well go on then, what is it'.

"How about you think about what you said last week, you know, those rude comments about the Yule ball."

"Yeah, but I already apologized yesterday and told her that I didn't mean to offend her!" James flailed his arms around when he exclaimed it.

"But she's still only hanging out with anyone but me," he whined. "Peter studied with her, Pads got a 'good morning' this morning and you're still talking to eachother.

Remus gave him an unimpressed look at his whining but James was not done complaining yet.

"She keeps spending all her time with the girls while she doesn't even seem to be fully enjoying herself"

This was true. You dearly missed James, so despite your newfound hobbies, a look of sadness sometimes fell over your face, which hadn't escaped James' attention.

"And I just don't understand why she would-" He started but never finished, something dawning on him. "Oh of course! Merlin, I'm so stupid!" He shouted out in epiphany.

"Your words not mine," Sirius quickly took the opportunity.

"Oh bugger off Pads", James laughed and pushed Sirius' arm. And with that, he took off to find you.

Sirius and Remus watched him leave and sighed at the same time. "Do you really think he got it?"

"I bloody hope so, Moony."

"But it's James."

"Yeah, but I mean it's not my fight but even I realize that she's sad that James made fun of the idea of her being more girly when she secretly wants to be. Now she's trying out what she likes, without having to stay within the role of 'one of the guys'. I mean, it's pretty straightforward. I guess a genuine apology and show of support is the solution."

"But it's James."

"Yep, you're right."

Though he hadn't been able to find you, he'd waited patiently for your return in the common room. Staring at the ceiling from his laid back position on the couch.

"Oh there you are, Y/N," He rushed to sit up to face you when you entered the room. If you were surprised by his presence, you didn't show it.

"We need to talk, I wanted to apologize." He breathed out, relieved at himself for having figured it out. "Also, I've missed you so much."

You felt a weight fall off your shoulders. You didn't want to be upset with him and felt incredibly relieved to hear him say that.

"I'm sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean for you to get offended or anything," James began.

"Yeah, you already said that." You frowned. "And I remember I told you that that was not a proper apology."

"I know, I know. It was shitty of me so I wanted to apologize. Properly you know? I'm really really sorry. I was a terrible friend and shouldn't have said the things I said. Please forgive me?" He proceeded to give you Bambi eyes in an attempt to convince you. It unsurprisingly worked.

You softly smiled up at him. "Okay". You barely got the word out before he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

"Great," he said, cutting through the comfortable silence that you two had been hugging in.

"Now you don't have to avoid me anymore, and you can stop sitting with the girls to prove your point, and join us again instead." He triumphantly continued.

What now?

You blanked. "I'm sorry?" You managed to ask.

"I get that I hurt you by saying your weren't a proper girl, but you don't have to pretend to prove your point by trying to be one." James stated, proud of himself that he figured it out.

"Because I can see that you don't like it, like your face gets all gloomy which is understandable because it isn't really your circle of people."

You stared at him, an incredulous look on your face.

"Fuck you James." You said, your voice coming out softer than you'd hoped. Tears were welling up again, but you couldn't help yourself.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I do want that to be my circle of people? That I don't just want to be one of the guys all the time? Is it that crazy to think that I'm still a girl with feelings? That I want to feel pretty too? That I don't like being told by my supposed best friend that I'm basically ugly? That I hate to be compared to other girls like that?"

You were ranting and James had taken a step back, surprised by your outburst.

"No, that's not what I-", James tried to salvage the situation but you weren't having it.

"You've told me that stuff for as long as I can remember and I never told you otherwise because I was scared that you'd no longer want to hang out with me for not being a 'chill friend'. But you know what, I no longer want you to."

At this point, you angrily wiped your eyes to get rid of tears that were threatening to spill. "So fuck you". With that, you brushed past him, escaping upstairs to your room.

James Fleamont Potter felt absolutely miserable.

If anyone told James that you'd ever be more on his mind than Lily, he would call them ridiculous. But here he was, another week had passed and he was staring at your back as you were leaving with your friends for Hogsmeade again.

You weren't wearing your school uniform and robes anymore and James was surprised to see you wearing one of what he knew to be Lily's dresses.

'It suited you more than it suited Lily.' The unwarranted thought flashed through his mind and he shook his head with a scoff to himself. What was going on?

James also noticed that your hair was brushed and shining with a butterfly clip holding your hair in a bun. He wondered when you decided to change your hairstyle because he found that it framed your face perfectly.

'Not ridiculous at all,' he understood.

You looked absolutely perfect.

You turned your face a little and James could feel his head reeling. Have you always been this glowing? Was he just simply missing you? He didn't even realize that he hadn't spared Lily a glance- until Sirius mentioned her while they were having a drink - and a strange feeling washed over him at the thought.

You were running from Filch.

'Fuck I shouldn't have studied after hours, curfew was probably hours ago," you cursed to yourself and took a sharp right turn. You were trying to reach the secret passage right behind the big statue on the fourth floor when you saw the hallway light up because of Filches torch.

Forcing your legs to move faster, you were suddenly grabbed by the wrist. A hand was clasped over your mouth and you felt a heavy cloth fall over you.

You recognised the person pressed to your back immediately and tried not to melt in his embrace as Filch walked straight past the two of you, covered in the invisibility cloak.

You could feel his breath against your temple. His hand had dropped from your mouth, instead draping across your stomach now to rest on your side. The other held out in front of you to create space under the cloak. You shifted a little and finally turned your head and lifted it to look at him and thank him but you were unable to say anything for a moment.

You simply admired him.

The proximity of the two of you in that intimate embrace had something fluttering in your stomach and you harshly jerked away in denial when your feelings hit you.

Oh no.

Now, all suddenly? What changed? Does it really take one random moment to flip your world upside down?

You rushed to push the invisibility cloak out of your way and then left without sparing James another glance.

James couldn't force his legs to move to run after you, still reeling from about the exact same epiphany that you'd just run away from. Your gaze, his fast beating heart and the urge he had felt to lean down for a kiss had confirmed his conflicted feelings of the past few days since he'd seen you leave for Hogsmeade.

The following morning, you'd had the chance to properly process the happenings of last night.

Your conclusion was that you felt guilty that you hadn't even expressed your gratitude. It was rude, you figured. Even if you were overwhelmed by the sudden wave of realization that came crashing down on you, it was rude.

So you pushed your confused feelings aside and marched up to him when you found him in the great hall.

"Thanks, I owe you." You awkwardly said, stopping at his spot at the Gryffindor table. All while absolutely not having forgotten about the fact that the last time you had said something to him, you'd flipped him off and told him to go fuck himself.

James was absolutely beaming. "Yeah you do, but no worries, I'll cash it in right away." This was his chance. He would make up for his behavior and act on his feelings right now.

"How about a date?"

There was a long silence. Your heart plummeted to the ground. Right. James. Lily. Lily and James.

"What am I a magician?" You finally managed to sarcastically retort. "I'm a convincing person but not a miracle worker." You pulled your hand through your hair as you looked around the great hall to see if you could spot Lily.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." You forced a smile.

James, who had been mostly confused at your words, disregarded it completely in delight at your acceptance to go out with him, even if it seemed somewhat reluctant. Not that it would matter because he was going to prove what an amazing boyfriend he could be. If you'd accept him, of course.

He was grinning from ear to ear, which you mistook as excitement at the prospect of a potential date with Lily. So when you abruptly turned on your heels and marched over to Lily, James watched you confusedly.

And when he heard you try to talk Lily into going out with him, he wanted to crawl in a ditch and die. He stood there, frozen and recounting how you could've interpreted that wrongly.

You returned to him after a while with an apologetic smile. "Yeah sorry Prongs, she-"

"You", he blurted out.

You raised your eyebrows. "Me?" You repeated back.

"The date, I meant you. A-and me of course. Us, like you and me on a date. Together. I thought maybe Hogsmeade?" He managed to force the words out nervously.

There was a long silence and James' shoulders slumped a little. Even more when you finally answered.

"Uh, no?" You said in a questioning manner. James officially wanted to die now.

"You're sweet James, and I don't think you do it on purpose but you're not interested in me like that." You began, trying to convince not only James, but yourself as well.

James opened his mouth to argue but you quickly interrupted him before he could properly do so.

"James, you really don't. And you asking me out on a date when you've quite literally been drooling over Lily just last week as you have been doing for the past 5 years, that's not very nice to me." You frowned.

"Oh." He whispered. He was once again at a lack of words for a moment. Terrible new habit, he thought. This was not how he thought it would go.

"I'd still gladly go with you to Hogsmeade though?" You offered. "Just you know, not as an easy second choice date while you are obviously head over heels with her."

'I'm not', he wanted to tell you, but it was obvious that you wouldn't believe him. "Yeah okay," he weakly smiled. "Just the two of us though."

You nodded and stepped forward, wrapped your arms around him and he leaned into you, returning the hug.

With his face pressed in your hair, eyes closed, he decided that this situation wasn't too bad. He's fought for Lily's affection for years. He'd fight harder for yours.

Part two

[sansaorgana]

— LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART FOUR

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Six moons of marriage have passed and an unexpected visit of Lord Jason Lannister causes Ser Gwayne and the new Lady Hightower to have their very first disagreement. Not long after, she gets pregnant with their first child.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one. I wanted to include Gwayne and Reader having their first child in the previous part already but it was too long and the time skip would be too big so I decided to turn it into yet another chapter of the story. Since the pregnancy and birth would be quite boring, I added some drama with Lord Jason aka Reader's previous suitor from the first chapter (but the details are not required to be known if you haven't read the first part!). There will be one more part to this story for which I am very excited! 😊 Thank you for all the nice comments. 💚

WARNINGS — Lord Jason being himself, pregnancy, birth

WORD COUNT — 6,130

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

First six moons of your marriage had passed by quickly and peacefully. You couldn’t believe it was half a year already and you were very pleased with how everything you had been so scared about turned out to be not so bad – performing marital duties was nothing but pleasure and fun, meanwhile running Oldtown could be exhausting sometimes but you still enjoyed it most of the time and you proudly held your head high while helping your husband with all his obligations around the city and the castle.

Having your own property with your own servants to order around was a good feeling, too. Not that you wanted to abuse the power that had been given to you but it was simply nice not to be someone’s daughter but your own Lady. Well, your husband’s – but he had never made you feel like that. Ser Gwayne Hightower was a chivalrous knight who was treating his duties and honour very seriously. He knew that being a husband did not only mean getting but it also meant giving. He was your protector and a shoulder to cry on, a strong hand to hold you and lead you and fight for you. You trusted him with your life and you would never doubt his loyalty to you.

Sometimes you wondered why had gods blessed you with such a good husband as you doubted if you had deserved him. Not that you were a bad person but you had your flaws – your pride, your stubbornness. Yet, you had not fought even once yet with your Lord Husband.

Well, once, nearly. Gwayne had suggested that perhaps you should start wearing more modest clothing because The Highgarden fashion was a bit too revealing for Oldtown. You had scoffed at that and he had not brought that up ever again.

You knew that The Highgarden fashion was considered too exposing for lots of regions of Westeros. Only Dornish women liked even riskier gowns but Oldtown was a part of The Reach so its people were not shocked to see a Tyrell Lady in a revealing dress. You had a feeling it was your Lord Husband’s personal preference because his own sister was known as a woman of strong faith and modesty like her mother before her.

Despite being Lady Hightower now, you still felt a very strong bond with The Tyrells. You always wore a golden ring with a rose on it and you loved all sorts of ornaments and decorations in the shapes of roses. You were corresponding with your Lady Mother and sisters every week and sometimes you were still signing the letters as Lady (Y/N) Tyrell – out of habit that was visibly saddening your husband whenever he’d catch you doing that.

Just like right now as you were sitting by your desk and Gwayne was handing out letters for you to sign them. Those were some official matters that he was supposed to send out to his vassals but ever since he was married and Oldtown had a Lady, he insisted on you both signing them even though it was not a popular custom for husbands to insist on such things.

You didn’t even read those letters since you trusted him as you mindlessly kept signing a letter after a letter. You gave him back the last one and he sighed, which made you look up and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell,” he read out loud and you felt bad at the sight of his sad expression.

“I am sorry,” you reached out to squeeze his wrist. “I was not focused enough,” you admitted.

“I shall rewrite this one,” Gwayne waved the letter in the air.

“No, I shall do it,” you took it from him gently. “Or will it be seen as something inappropriate when they realise it was the wife’s handwriting?”

“No, it won’t be,” Gwayne smiled at you and allowed you to take the letter. “Can I stay here and watch you work?”

“What kind of husband asks such a thing?” You chuckled at him. “Of course, my love,” you leaned into his hand as he caressed your cheek and you placed a soft kiss upon his fingers.

Gwayne sat in the armchair by the window inside your chambers. You would spend some of your days here but all nights so far you had slept with him. However, the chambers he had prepared for you were so beautiful that it would be a waste to never spend your time inside them.

You rewrote the letter and handed it for him to sign and then you could start working on answering the letters that were addressed to you specifically. Gwayne kept sitting in the armchair and looking at you, occasionally staring out of the window. It was peaceful and quiet and you wished that moment could last forever.

The next envelope on the pile of letters made you furrow your brows. It was red and the golden wax seal had The Lannister lion on it. You checked twice if it was really addressed to you and not to your Lord Husband but no, it was very clearly addressed to “Lady (Y/N) Hightower of Oldtown”.

“Weird,” you hummed to yourself when you opened the envelope with a small dagger, without breaking the seal.

“What is it, my darling?” Gwayne turned his head around to look at you since he had been gazing out of the window and staring at the water.

“It is from Lord Jason Lannister and it is addressed to me instead of you,” you told him. It felt quite inappropriate so you wanted your husband to know for you would never hide anything of such a matter from him.

Perhaps you would not be so suspicious about it if you didn’t have a history with Lord Jason. He had been one of your suitors and your father’s favourite. In fact, he had been plotting with your father behind everybody’s back to win the tournament for your hand and he had been playing dirty by using his knight brother to pretend to be him.

“And what does he want?” Gwayne crossed his arms.

“Well, allow me to read the letter first,” you rolled your eyes playfully as you began reading.

Gwayne was trying to be very patient but from the corner of your eye you could see that he was tapping his arms with his fingers and you found it pretty amusing so you read the letter three times before putting it down and taking a deep breath in as you laid your eyes on your husband.

“He wishes to visit us. He claims he was around for his friend’s wedding and he wishes to stay at The Hightower for the night on his way back home,” you explained.

“What friend, I’m wondering?” Gwayne snorted. “Oldtown is never on anyone’s way. It is usually a destination, not a stop.”

“He says his friend is Lord Bulwer, they are our vassals from Blackcrown. He must reach Oldtown to get on the Rose Road. It is a faster way to get back to Casterly Rock than to travel alongside the shore,” you explained because, sadly, Lord Jannister’s excuse sounded very realistic. “Well?” You asked Gwayne. “We must give him an answer.”

“We are not in a state of war with The Lannisters, are we? We shall let him stay for the night,” your husband sighed and stood up to read the letter himself as if he wanted to make sure there was nothing inappropriate in it.

In the meantime, you began working on a reply letter to Lord Jason Lannister. Your husband kept standing behind you and examining every word you were writing down. He had never done that before, even when you had been writing letters of much bigger importance.

“I don’t mind you being in the same room as me while I work but this is a little uncomfortable, my love,” you tried to make him realise calmly when you were about to sign the letter.

“Do not forget your surname this time,” Gwayne reminded you and you furrowed your brows at the tone of his voice. It was not rude but certainly harsher than usual.

“Lady (Y/N) Hightower,” you signed silently, “of House Tyrell,” you added, just to spite Gwayne and you didn’t have to look up to know that he rolled his eyes. However, he did not say anything.

Lord Jason was supposed to come three days later in the evening, right in time for the supper. You wore a green dress for that occasion but you had a rose-shaped jewellery that your husband usually did not mind but on that day he seemed to be bothered by it.

“This jewellery is beautiful, dear wife, but are you sure it goes well with the dress?” He asked during breakfast as you froze.

“Since when are you an expert?” You turned your head around with widened eyes. Well, Gwayne knew quite a lot about fashion but his comment had irritated you.

“Since I am a married man,” he cracked a nervous smile at you.

“Yellow roses always go well with green for those are the Tyrell symbols,” you reminded him with a forced, ironic smile.

“Is this how you wish to greet Lord Jason in Oldtown? As Lady Tyrell?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow at you.

“I have been walking around this city in this very dress and jewellery many times before and you have never said anything!” You protested and Gwayne blushed a bit because he had no idea what else to say.

You went back to eating because you didn’t want to torment him more by pointing out the flaws of his argumentation, however he did not choose silence at all.

“The dress is also quite low-cut,” he mumbled.

“Yes, it is, my beloved Lord, and what about it?” You clenched your fist around the fork you were holding.

“I suspect not many Lord Husbands would want their wives to greet their previous suitors in such a dress,” he commented.

“I have never treated Lord Jason as my suitor,” you scoffed. “And what is wrong with the dress?”

“Nothing,” Gwayne quickly fixed himself. “Nothing is wrong with the dress, my beautiful Lady,” he assured you and went back to eating.

“Are you perhaps jealous of Lord Jason? Do you wish to impress him or show me off as your property?” You asked after the sudden realisation as you laid your eyes on him again.

“Property? No. My wife,” Gwayne clenched his jaw as he explained. “I want to show you off as my Lady Wife.”

“My darling,” you smiled and shook your head as your anger subdued. You leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I would have chosen you as my champion during that tournament even if you were a beggar knight from a peasant family. I would love you even if you were a miller, a carpenter, a fisherman. And no amount of Lannister gold would convince me to go with Lord Jason anywhere,” you assured your husband and fixed his hair gently. “I want to show you off as my Lord Husband in front of him just as much.”

That seemed to calm Gwayne down for now as he nodded with a small smile and even stole a little kiss from your lips. You were alone by the table and the few servants walking around would not scold you for that anyway.

The sun was slowly setting down when you were standing by Gwayne’s side in the courtyard of The Hightower and awaiting Lord Jason Lannister. Your arms were brushing and you kept looking at each other once in a while as if you were giving each other courage. Not that you needed it but Lord Jason was rather insufferable and you knew that losing temper around him would not be good for your relations with The Lannisters. The relations were pretty fragile already anyway.

Finally, you heard the horses and saw a big, elegant carriage with the Lannister lion ornamented on its doors.

“I thought he would travel on a horseback,” Gwayne mumbled.

“Well, he is not a knight. He is used to certain comfort,” you whispered and wore a fake smile that very moment when one of your servants opened the door of the carriage and you saw Lord Jason walking out.

He looked around as if he could not see you nor your husband at first. Then, he faked a smile as well and approached you.

“Lord and Lady Hightower,” he looked you up and down and kissed the palm of your hand when you bowed your head down.

“Lord Lannister,” you greeted him.

“Ser Gwayne,” he nodded at your husband.

“Lord Jason,” Gwayne nodded back. “You must be tired after the journey. Come, the supper is ready and your chambers have been prepared.”

“Thank you. I have never been to The Hightower, I must admit,” Lord Jason followed you inside. He kept looking around like a curious cat.

“How did you get to Blackcrown, my Lord?” You asked him curiously since you and Gwayne had been wondering about it earlier – why was he asking you for a room to stay on his way back only.

“I went there by a ship, Lady Hightower, but the ship was the wedding gift for my friend,” Lord Jason answered and you nodded.

“Your wedding gifts are very generous, my Lord,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Well, I can afford such,” Lord Jason grinned at him as you reached the dining hall. “You must forgive me for not sending one to you, Ser, but in my position of a failed suitor, it would have been pretty humiliating,” he explained and you pretended to understand his point of view.

And it was not like you cared about any gifts from him anyway.

“Please, let us not dwell on the past,” you showed Lord Jason an empty chair by your husband’s side and he took it after you and Gwayne had sat down as well.

“I am not meaning to, my Lady,” Lord Jason informed you proudly. “I am a married man myself now.”

“Oh, are you? Congratulations, my Lord,” you smiled at him even though he had never congratulated you on your union. “To whom?”

“Lady Johanna of House Westerling,” Lord Jason answered and you hummed to yourself.

“Well, she is a lucky Lady,” you tried to be kind.

“Thank you, that is very flattering, Lady Tyrell,” Lord Jason bowed his head and Gwayne shot him a deadly glance. “Oh, do forgive me, Lady Hightower. The colours you are wearing have misled me,” he explained with a grin and you faked a smile but you began to feel guilty for not listening to your husband earlier.

“Green is the colour of House Hightower,” your husband reminded Lord Jason.

“Indeed but the roses…”

“My wife is not forbidden from wearing the emblems of her father’s house,” Gwayne interrupted Lord Jason and it was rude enough to make all of you sit in silence for a moment after that.

“Lord Jason,” you started quickly to change the subject, “why isn’t your Lady Wife with you?”

“It was not recommended in her fragile state. Lady Lannister is expecting,” Lord Jason straightened himself and you could see pride and smugness about him.

“Congratulations, my Lord,” you nodded at him.

“Aren’t you afraid of leaving your pregnant Lady Wife alone for so long when it is no matter of life and death keeping you apart from her, my Lord?” Gwayne asked and you clenched your jaw before kicking him slightly under the table.

“Ser Gwayne, there is nothing in this world women do better than give birth. She does not need my assistance,” Lord Jason found it quite funny, though, as he laughed but he was the only one doing so. “Speaking of, I’ve expected to see Lady Hightower being swollen already. How long has it been now since the wedding? Six moons?”

You froze at his question. It was incredibly rude to be up in other people’s business like that.

You had been discussing the matter of children with Gwayne in the very beginning of your marriage and you both had decided you wanted some time for yourselves before having children and to enjoy each other’s company first. You were regularly drinking teas prepared by The Hightower’s maester to prevent you from getting pregnant and so far it had been working. But if it had failed, you wouldn’t be sad about it either, for you couldn’t wait to have your babes soon anyway.

You exchanged a meaningful look with your husband, not knowing what to say. If you told Lord Jason the truth – that you wanted to wait and enjoy each other’s company – he would only scoff at that and find it hilarious.

“And who has told you that I am not swelling, my Lord?” You answered swiftly before Gwayne opened his mouth.

Lord Jason looked you up and down before humming to himself.

“Well, congratulations, Ser,” he patted Gwayne on his back.

“Thank you,” Gwayne gritted through his teeth and gave you a scolding look. “It is still very early news, though,” he added.

“May the Gods bless Lady Hightower and her offspring,” Lord Jason nodded at you and it somehow felt very sincere.

“Thank you, Lord Jason,” you gave him the very first genuine smile that evening.

The rest of the supper went pretty boringly and you said goodnight to Lord Lannister before the servants took him to his chambers. You and Gwayne went upstairs in awkward silence.

On your way to your husband’s room, you passed the door to your chambers. They were a floor below Gwayne’s chambers that were located at the highest level of The Hightower.

“I shall join you later,” you only mumbled out and he nodded, watching you disappear inside your room.

Your maids were already waiting there to help you into your nighttime attire. You kept sighing and they were exchanging looks.

“How was it, my Lady?” One of them asked. She knew your backstory with Lord Jason because she was one of the girls you had taken with you from The Highgarden.

“Lord Jason is insufferable as always and even though he is married now himself, he finds great enjoyment in tormenting my Lord Husband,” you told her.

“Well, my Lady, I doubt Ser Gwayne is angry at you,” her eyes widened.

“I do not know anymore. I have worn a dress he did not approve of and it indeed caused trouble. I have also said something… Something I should have not said and I have said it to defend his honour but he might not see it this way,” you confessed.

“Ser Gwayne is a very understanding Lord Husband,” the girl assured you and smiled while she brushed your hair.

You kept looking at yourself in the mirror’s reflection but you weren’t sure of her words. That supper had gone worse in the beginning than you had even imagined.

You thanked your maids and they left you alone but you kept sitting in the armchair and staring at yourself and at the candles slowly burning out instead of moving up and joining your husband as you had promised.

For the first time during your marriage, you simply blew out the candles and went inside your own bed. It even felt weird to lay there since you were not used to it but it just felt like the right thing to do on that night.

You couldn’t fall asleep though. And after a while of tossing and turning, you heard the doors open as the wooden floor squeaked under someone’s feet.

“Who is it?” You sat up immediately.

“And who do you think, my Lady?” A familiar voice made you sigh out of relief.

You reached your hand out in the darkness and Gwayne grabbed it as you led him into your bed.

“Why didn’t you bring a candle with you?” You asked.

“I felt a little adventurous,” he chuckled. “And I know my way to you by heart, my beloved Lady,” he added. “Why haven’t you joined me?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to, my Lord,” you admitted when he laid next to you under the cover. You cuddled him immediately by curling up next to him and putting your arm around his waist. “I thought you were cross with me.”

“I am not cross. I simply do not understand why you lied,” he confessed and kissed the top of your head.

“Is it the lie that you’re upset about?” You furrowed your brow. “I do value your honour but…”

“Not the lie itself,” Gwayne interrupted you. “Why didn’t you allow me to inform Lord Jason that we do not wish for children yet?”

“Because he would not understand and find you weak or assume you are unable to produce an heir and it is nothing but an excuse. I wanted to spare you further embarrassments,” you explained. “And… I am sorry for the dress…” You added, looking down.

“Do not be. I am sorry for insisting,” Gwayne rubbed your back. “And thank you for wanting to spare me embarrassments but now we are facing quite a challenge, aren’t we, my love?”

“What do you mean, my Lord?” You looked up, finding his blue eyes in the darkness of your chambers.

“I mean that Lord Jason now believes that you are expecting, my darling,” Gwayne smirked a little and you furrowed your brows.

“Oh no,” you gasped, faking the dramatic aspect of it. “And what shall we do about it now?” You wondered theatrically.

“Well, I have quite a few ideas,” Gwayne leaned in to join your lips together in a kiss as his hands pulled you even closer by your waist.

“Are you sure?” You breathed out between one hasty kiss and another.

“Only if you are,” he assured you.

“I am,” you nodded. “I am, I am, I am…” You kept repeating, suddenly realising how eager you indeed were to have your own little babe before you allowed your husband’s lips to devour yours with yet another passionate kiss.

Thankfully, Lord Jason was supposed to leave Oldtown after breakfast. You greeted him in the morning in another green dress and even though this one was pretty low-cut, too, you decided not to wear any roses on that day. Instead, you wore a necklace with The Hightower that had once belonged to Gwayne’s late Lady Mother.

Lord Jason kept staring at your chest and the necklace until it became a little uncomfortable and he cleared his throat before looking up to meet your cold gaze that you were gracing him with.

“I must admit I have not expected The Hightower to be that grand. It really is as tall as they say,” he bowed his head at you.

“We Light The Way, Lord Lannister,” you reminded him with a forced smile.

“Of course, Casterly Rock remains taller,” he added and you put the cutlery down, irritated. Gwayne gave you a look to remind you to stay polite.

“My Lord, why the remark? Is it a contest?” You asked him, trying not to sound too angry. “It is not the size of the castle that proves manhood. I do believe that you have already shown yours during the tournament for my hand in marriage,” you reminded him of his shameful behaviour and cheating. “The tournament which my husband has won fairly and justly,” you added.

Lord Jason did not say anything. He looked down and went back to eating while his cheeks' colour started to resemble The Lannister emblem.

You squeezed Gwayne’s hand under the table and the rest of the breakfast went pretty smoothly. You went outside to the courtyard to watch Lord Jason ride away. His farewell was pretty short and official. He was not trying to make any jokes anymore.

“My darling, you have acted as if you were a knight and I was a lady in distress,” Gwayne chuckled at you once you were finally free of Lord Lannister.

“Sometimes you are, my Gwayne,” you smiled at him sweetly and leaned in to steal a kiss from his cheek.

“Shall I get you a sword, my sweet?” He teased you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Perhaps another time, Lord Husband,” you chuckled at that.

Two moons later you were watching Gwayne training with his sword as he was teaching a young squire on the courtyard. The day was quite hot but you had nothing else to do and you loved to watch him train anyway so you were sitting on a wooden bench, trying to remain in the shadow but you felt awful nevertheless. The sun felt too warm, the corset seemed to be too tight no matter how many times you had asked your maids to loosen it and you were hungry but too nauseous to eat. You blamed your condition on the weather and your upcoming monthly bleeding, which was late already but the soreness of your breasts could only mean that it would come very soon.

Gwayne kept looking at you from the corner of his eye with a worried expression because he could see that something was not right – you looked exhausted and your skin was a shade paler than normally. There were bags under your eyes and your voice sounded weak whenever you cheered for him or his squire.

He knew he was most likely overreacting but he was panicking deep inside that you could be seriously ill like his mother had been. The beginnings of each illness looked the same and losing you so fast after marrying you would surely kill him, too.

You were too exhausted to even notice the worried look on his face. You raised your head to shield your face from the sun and you felt a sudden dizziness that made you flutter your eyelids as your head grew heavy before losing consciousness for a short while.

When you opened your eyes again, the very first thing you saw was Gwayne’s furrowed brows and blue eyes filled with worry and fear. His cheeks were so pale that his freckles were more visible than ever and the strands of his auburn hair were tickling your face. His squire was standing behind him with widened eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” You asked and looked around while your vision was slowly coming back.

“You have fainted, my love,” Gwayne swallowed thickly.

“It must be due to the heat,” you tried to explain.

“Mayhaps. But I shall not underestimate your condition,” he picked you up the bridal style, carefully.

“What are you doing, my Lord?” You chuckled weakly at him.

“I am taking you to the maester,” your husband answered with all seriousness.

You didn’t protest because you knew he was worried and to be honest so were you. You only hoped that the maester would confirm that it was nothing serious.

Gwayne’s squire opened the door leading to maester’s chambers in front of you both and The Hightower’s maester stood up to bow his head. He had been sitting by his desk and working on something before you came inside.

“My Lord, My Lady,” he greeted you. “Is everything alright?”

“No, maester. My Lady Wife has fainted,” Gwayne laid you down gently on a bed.

“It is because of the heat!” You protested.

“Mayhaps,” the maester hummed to himself and approached you to examine you with his hands as Gwayne stood above him and watched worryingly. “Have you slept well, my Lady?”

“Oh, I can’t sleep for about two weeks now,” you admitted and yawned a little at the mention.

“I understand. What have you had for breakfast, my Lady?” The maester furrowed his brows.

“I was too nauseous to eat,” you confessed.

“May I ask you when was your last bleeding?” The maester raised an eyebrow.

“It should come any day now for it was more than a moon ago… I am sure it is going to come, though. My breasts are sore,” you lowered your voice a little, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you and Gwayne’s presence hovering above the both of you.

“May I?” The maester lifted his hands and you opened your mouth to answer but you noticed that he was looking at your husband and not at you.

“I mean, if you must…” Gwayne cleared his throat. “And if the Lady agrees,” he added and only then the maester laid his eyes on you.

“Go on,” you nodded and your heart skipped a beat when he grabbed your breasts gently through the fabric of the dress and squeezed them carefully. You hissed at the feeling.

The maester hummed to himself and moved his hands away before looking up at Gwayne again. Your husband shook his head out of anticipation.

“And?!” He asked.

“Lady Hightower is expecting. Congratulations, my Lord,” the maester informed and you opened your mouth slightly at that revelation.

“I… I am with child?” You inquired and sat up, feeling the sudden outburst of energy.

“I am quite certain of it. Too many symptoms confirming,” the maester nodded. “And when was it that my Lady stopped drinking the tea? Two moons ago, right?”

“That is quite right,” Gwayne answered and took you by your hand. He squeezed your fingers gently and sat on the edge of your bed. He placed a gentle kiss upon the palm of your hand and looked deep into your eyes with such a loving expression that you felt butterflies all over your body even though you had been married for more than half a year now.

The maester walked away and sat back by his desk to give you some space but you completely forgot about his presence anyway for all that mattered was your husband and his child you were apparently carrying under your heart.

“Oh, Gwayne…” You stuttered out as your eyes filled with happy tears. “So it is happening… And to think we have Lord Jason Lannister to thank…”

“My Lady!” Gwayne frowned and chuckled. “Do not say such things. Some people might get ideas…”

“That is true, I guess,” you laughed at his comment. “Are you still certain that you will not mind a daughter if it is a girl?”

“All I care for is your safety. And the child’s. In that exact order,” he answered and you gave him a faint smile.

“Whether they’re a boy or a girl, I just wish for them to be like their father,” you squeezed Gwayne’s hand lovingly. “That is my greatest wish.”

A slight blush covered his cheeks and you smiled at his reaction. It was quite easy to make him flustered with such compliments for he had not been getting many in his childhood. He had been left alone at eight years old, raised by all the septas and maesters of The Hightower alongside older knights teaching him the craft and chivalry. His life had been quite a lonely one but it no longer would be for you would fill the corridors and courtyards with tiny little Hightowers running around.

Your screams could be heard on every floor of The Hightower – a monument taller than The Wall itself – at least that was what your husband had claimed with a chuckle when you nearly crushed his hand while squeezing it tightly. You gave him a deadly look and he lovingly wiped your sweaty face, pushing away all the hair strands that got stuck to your forehead.

You knew that Gwayne was trying to distract you with his jokes here and there but overall he was very worried – perhaps even more than you were since your pain was too overwhelming to focus on anything else. The septas were busy around you, wiping your sweat away, helping you to drink water and telling you when to push as they monitored the birthing process.

You had not expected your Lord Husband to actually be there for you but he had not disappointed you. You had been conflicted at first for you had been told once that wives should not allow their husbands inside during labour. But you were too scared to go through this alone and the pain was much greater than what you had imagined as well. Gwayne’s presence was bringing you great comfort even if sometimes he was annoying you.

The birth had started after breakfast and the sun was slowly going down already but the septas were assuring you that it would not take long from now on. Gwayne had not left your side even for a moment throughout the whole day.

“I did not mean to upset you, my love,” he explained, caressing your hand as if it was the most delicate thing in the world and not a deadly machine that had nearly crushed his hand on several occasions that day. “You are the bravest woman in the Realm to me. In all the Realms of this world, in fact,” he assured you and you just couldn’t be angry at him any longer.

You smiled and wished to tell him something equally sweet when a sharp pain distracted you and you turned your head around while wincing and squeezing your husband’s hand tightly again.

“I can see the head!” One of the septas screamed. “Go, fetch the maester!” She ordered the young girl who was only getting her training but seeing her pale face and terrified expression, you wondered if she regretted her decision to become a septa.

On the other hand, as a septa she would never have to go through what you were going through at the moment.

The girl ran out of the room and you kept taking deep breaths in and pushing like the eldest septa was instructing you. Gwayne kept holding your hand throughout that but seeing his face, he needed the breathing instructions as well.

The maester entered the chambers in a hurry with the scared young septa after him and in that very moment the child’s screams and crying filled the room. The sound was so loud and determined that you immediately knew that there was nothing to worry about for only a healthy and strong child could make such a fuss.

The maester hurried to the newborn baby and Gwayne was trying to see as much as possible through all the septas swarming up around you to clean you up a little and wipe your face from all the sweat.

“It is a boy,” the maester informed and you couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

You knew your Lord Husband could not care less about it but you did care – you loved him and you wanted to give him an heir.

“Is he alright?” Gwayne asked with a raspy voice.

“See for yourself, my Lord. He is a perfectly healthy babe,” the maester approached you two and handed Gwayne his firstborn son. He showed your husband how to hold the little head up and you watched with a loving smile the little bundle of joy staining your husband’s clothes with blood as he was screaming his lungs out.

“He is beautiful,” Gwayne mumbled and moved closer to you as you reached out your weak hands to hold your own babe as well. He placed him gently on your chest but his eyes were fixated on the boy. “Thank you for him, my love.”

“I thank you, my Lord,” you answered but you did not look up at him either since you kept staring at the screaming child. But when he felt your skin and your heartbeat, he stopped crying immediately and just kept staring at you with huge eyes. You chuckled at that and cried happy tears. “How do you want to name him?”

“Lord Edmund Hightower?” Gwayne suggested. It was no surprise to you that he did not propose his father’s name and you liked the sound of Edmund Hightower, so you nodded. You could not care less about the name, you were just glad to have a son and you thought it was only fair for the father to choose his heir’s name anyway.

“I like the sound of that,” you assured your husband as you looked up to meet his gaze.

“So do I,” Gwayne nodded. “And the sight, my Lady,” he added and you felt your cheeks heating up.

Only Gwayne knew how to make you flustered still, after over a year of marriage and right after giving birth to a child, dirty with blood and sweat but to him you were nothing but a victorious warrior that had just survived a battlefield and he admired you now more than ever before.

MASTERLIST

[prettyboykatsuki]

I can just imagine fujo neet reader practicing different sex position with rin to make sure she gets the proportions right.

✮ tags ; fem!reader, sexual tension, rin's pov, RIN IS KIND OF MEAN TO HER BUT HE WANTS HER SO BAD FDKJJS, reader is a fujoshi and bl mangaka, pre-relationship, they work together, part of a ficverse i haven't written yet Sorry, ONE JOKE ABOUT RIN WANTING TO OFF HIMSELF, SUPER SUGGESTIVE LOL 18+

✮ wc ; 3.5k (WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!!)

✮ a/n ; i had to do this for my sanity. i promise i will write them a proper fic with them i promise.

You never text Rin.

Not really. Not first at least. It's a new... friendship. Kind of. Sort of. Most of your communication thus far has been through meetings and random in-person chance encounters. Outside of that, Rin will call you since it's faster. If you do "text", it's mostly through twitter DM's.

There's a discord server your fans run, and you pop in there often enough. He's had the invitation extended but declined unilaterally, since he'd rather not see himself fucking Isagi anymore than he already has in his short, miserable career.

It surprised him this morning, seeing your message flash across the top of his screen. Asking, specifically, for him to come over and help you with something related to the new manga you were writing. He had it in his right mind to decline, but after learning it wasn't a doujin for him, he semi-reluctantly agreed.

Rin doesn't know when exactly your relationship to him grew this...comfortable. Inviting him over to your house, begging him for favors, not wincing every time he talks to you. Rin isn't an extrovert but compared to you he's a social butterfly. And your aversion to people in general, Rin thought, would prevent you from doing anything more than squeak at him forever just like you did when he met you.

(Though nothing in his life has been normal since your arrival in it. He's not sure why you would remain unchanged when he certainly hasn't.)

He doesn't know what to feel when you ask him for a favor, and he doesn't know what force of nature compels him to go. If it's morbid curiosity or annoyance or something else even worse.

It was compelling enough to take the train all the way out to Machida - an hour long trip from his own place. His manager hounded him to take you something, so he has a bag of ginseng energy drinks and snacks with him as a gift. He took the bus with his mask on, and then walked all the way to your building.

Your apartment is tucked somewhere classically suburban - attached at the far end of a residential street and behind concrete support beams for a highway just overhead. Cherry blossom trees and other shades of white flowers grow around it in thick patches, making the entrance hard to find. Rin would've had trouble if you didn’t give him details on exactly where to go.

It's an older building, stone walls worn and grass-stained from age. At the gate are groups of old people talking amongst each other as they sort through recycling and trash. All visor hats and sunspots, they fawn over Rin for a long while before he goes in and interrogates him with questions. None of them know him, which is relieving. It quickly graduates to them asking who he's there to visit, if he has a girlfriend or not.

All of them ooh and aah when he mentions your name, say something about being relieved she's found a man so handsome and that Rin should marry you because even though you're a little strange you're a good girl. Rin does not have the time nor energy to correct them - only nods and bows his head and leaves.

On the elevator ride up to your floor, he can't help but think repeatedly that this isn't the kind of place he'd expect you to live. He thought it'd be out in the middle of nowhere, maybe in a damp and broken building.

But this is a nice place with nice people, vibrant and colorful. Totally opposite from what he considers your personality.

Suitable or not, Rin manages to make it to your floor without a hitch.

He finds you, then, as he'd expect. Down a long hall, behind an unassuming white door. When you open it, you're a mess. Your hair completely unkempt, face greasy, a wild look in your eyes and complete surprise in your expression as if you didn't invite him over. You do, however, manage to invite him in without stuttering or stumbling over your words foolishly like you did the first time you spoke to him.

Another surprise is how... clean your living room is. It's lived in but he was expecting more mess in there. Your bedroom is in a similar state, undoubtedly messy but not terrible. Your NEET tendencies finally end up showing when you drag Rin into your office where you draw your manga.

It's not dirty but it's cluttered. There's a pull out sofa on one wall, with a blanket and pillow littered about and pages upon pages of paper sheets with scrapped panels about the floor. One wall has a bunch of post-its with several notes in both English and Japanese, and another has tacked up pieces of art. Both yours and other peoples. He chooses to ignore the ones of him and Isagi, The walls themselves are cream colored and uninteresting and the wood floors are slippery. At the far end of the room is a spread of desks, a PC set-up and a professional looking tablet among various art supplies in stacked boxes.

It's this room you bring Rin into without explaining yourself at all, mumbling and muttering as you give him a place to sit and go back to your work for fifteen silent minutes.

When you're finally finished doing whatever the fuck you were doing, you turn yourself back towards Rin. Bluelight glasses fall down the bridge of your nose as you swivel around in your chair - your sweatpants half pulled up your leg with the other pulled down. You're wearing fuzzy socks with Naruto characters on them.

You stare at him, pulling your glasses off and rubbing your eyes - dark circles under them.

"Uhm," Your voice is clipped and thick with exhaustion. "You came."

Rin deadpans. "You asked me to come."

"I thought you'd say no."

He did too. He doesn't respond back. You chew your lips, already anxious and Rin resists the urge to say something about it.

"Okay. Uhm. Please don't get mad," You start with and then explain, looking away. Your hands pull your sleeves over your palms. "So. Like. For my new series, I'm finally getting to the sex scene but I've never drawn characters with an intense height difference like this. And I need... new reference photos.... and uhm," You rub your feet together on your chair where you sit "Well our height differences and size is the exact one my characters have. So."

Rin stares at you. "So?"

"SoIwaswonderingifyou'dtakereferenceimagesforsexpositionswithme,"

Rin feels his jaw lock. "Slower."

You frown and look away, tucking your chin with embarrassment. "I was uhm, like, wondering if you'd take... take the uhm, sex position reference photos with me, please."

"What?"

You clasp your hands together, immediately prostrating yourself by throwing yourself down the ground. He flinches back, wondering if you're gonna hold onto his leg next.

"Please, please help me. You're the exact height of my seme and you uhm have similar builds and he's doing the most of the legwork. The poses are a little bit hard but I want them to look good or Minami-san will eat me and I'm scared of her, please help me."

"Who is Minami-san?"

You sniffle, on the verge of tears just thinking about it. "My editor. She used to be my fan. She's scary. Please, Rin-kun, please."

"What the hell did you do before?"

You frown at him, big wet puppy-dog eyes.

"It was hard. Sometimes I'd pose with my big stuffed animals and make up the proportions. Oh and usually watched porn and stuff. Sometimes I'd get lucky with stockphotos. But I don’t get the angle exactly right unless I have good references."

Rin wonders if anything you have ever said has processed in your mind before saying it. He doubts it for some reason.

"So," Rin pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes the image of you humping your stuffed animals out of his head. "You're asking me to.. pose with you?"

You nod and chew your lip. "Please, I promise I'd never ask you for this if I wasn't s-scared of Minami-san! Please?"

"I should make you pay me for this," He sneers. You flinch back and close your eyes.

"I'm sorry." You whine wetly, but then open your eyes again anyway. "Please help me."

Rin doesn't know why he helps you. Maybe you're just too pathetic for him to ignore. Maybe he's a masochist. Maybe inhaling the same air as Bachira last week turned him stupid.

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Fine."

__

If Rin didn't believe you before when you told him you make your own references, he'd definitely believe you after you take him to your bedroom.

Your bed is in the center of your room, instead of being pushed against a wall. Large stuffed animals laid in one corner. On both sides of the room, are makeshift digital camera stands and remote-controlled lighting among another remote for said cameras. There's about 4-6 angles from what you explained to Rin, and a few adjustable lights. It's an elaborate set-up and takes the kind of dedication Rin can only imagine a hardcore fujoshi freak like yourself thinking up.

All of this to mostly draw porn of him and his rival. He tries not to think about it too hard because he thinks it's going to give him an aneurysm. Rin sits at the edge of your bed as you adjust each of the cameras individually.

"What do you do if it's not on a bed?"

You flinch like you aren't expecting him to talk. "Uhm. I either simulate as best I can o-or move my things and bed around. It's why I moved my desk to my office."

Rin stares at you. "You take it seriously."

You nod meekly. "Producing high-quality doujin is what made me money, so I have to work hard. Being poor is tough."

If Rin didn't find you so unbearable he might find that awe-inspiring in his own fucked up way.

"Okay. Everything is set-up. Now for the poses," You say, suddenly sparking back to life. Rin sits and watches. "They're having sex on a public beach so the bed and the way the seme sort of sinks into the sand will be good... I think the bridge one is the one we'll do first."

"The bridge?"

You nod, talking in short sentences. But Rin can tell this is where you're comfortable, doing things for this... hobby. Your usual constant embarrassment and shame seem to disappear when it comes to it. It's fascinating like a car crash. "Uhm. You have to stand on your knees and then, I'll lay on my back and arch my back up to meet your... y'know. It'll emphasize the height difference."

Rin stares at you agape. You take the remote control for your cameras in your hands and look at him expectantly.

Rin doesn't know whats wrong with him. Why the hell did he agree to this?

"Do you want me to take my jacket off?"

You nod, surprised. He shrugs the thing off of his shoulders and tosses it onto the floor.

Rin, per your instruction, gets into the position in the middle of the bed. He stands on his knees waiting for you. You join him a minute after, squinting at your phone screen beforehand. He isn't sure what he's expecting as a result of your ask, but he sure is shocked when he finds you placing your feet flat on the bed next to his knees and pushing yourself up for your crotch to meet his.

He knows that’s what you said but your shamelessness proves to be… shocking.

He tries not to let it show. His jaw ticks. His face feels warm but his expression remains neutral all the same. You shift and adjust and don't seem concerned at all - like it doesn't occur to you that this is in any way socially unacceptable. Or it's unfathomable Rin would take advantage of this. That this is weird, or could be interpreted in less than innocent ways. Rin knows you're so out of touch that it probably isn't. That this is, to you, just considered a favor which is partially why he even agrees.

But you're mid-brushing up against his bulge. The angle of your back forms a triangle, your arms laid flat at your sides as you squirm and push. And your expression shifts, deep in thought.

"Uhm, like, would you mind p-putting your hands on my hips? Kind of squeezing tight like it's," You flush this time, but Rin harbors doubt it's about him. "Like it feels good I guess? Like hard, and stuff so you can see the indent."

He's so astonished, he does it on autopilot. Neutral and even. He lets his hands grab your hips and holds tight just as you ask. Your long, loose sweatshirt falls down revealing the soft skin of your tummy. He can see the tops of your underwear, the thin cotton kind that come in 6-packs with a single bow in the middle in a grey color.

You don't seem to care about it. Rin shouldn't either, but his body does seem to care. His brain does. Something is happening in his gut. Anger maybe. Some cheap, frustrated desire to make fun of you.

Instead the words he's been wanting to ask since you proposed this tumble out of his mouth. He stares at you.

"Is this the first time someone's done this with you?"

You jump with a start, but remain in position. You take the pictures first, six clicks in a row before answering.

"H-huh? Why-why are you asking that?"

He doesn't know. Really. And he knows how it sounds. Rin doesn't say anything and you fold under the immense pressure of his gaze.

"S-stop staring," You say, and take a few more pictures, lowering your back just a little but still staying up right. "And no. No one tall enough or with the right physique."

There is another gnawing question, another burning curiosity. He makes his voice as even and unaffected and apathetic as he can. As mean as possible.

"Have you ever even had sex?"

Your eyes blow wide, but you seem to fall for the persona of apathy, curious boredom and cruelty. Worse, you seem a little used to it. You squirm this time and Rin holds you firmly in place. Your voice is small.

"Uhm, like, once I guess. I-it was with a guy, I didn't really date him but he seemed interested in me and I didn't think I'd ever have the opportunity again s-so I did it and I didn't uhm, it wasn't very good or anything." You reply, and he can feel your toes curl in your socks next to him and his brain feels like it'll melt from out of his ears. "Sorry, I don't-don't think you care about that, just uhm, felt like I should explain."

"Yeah," Rin feels dizzy. "Do you need another pose?"

You blink and then nod. "Yeah! Another one kind of like this, but with the legs like uhm, on your chest and my feet closer to your head. With you leaned back a little. Does that make sense? The butterfly position, I think."

Rin swallows something at the back of throat.

He nods, pulling you into position so easily he can heard you gasp. Your legs straighten against his clothed chest, and your sweatshirt falls far enough to let him see your bra. A fabric sports kind, a little worn - just the logo visible. He doesn't say anything about it, your feet resting near his neck. You make a little soft noise.

"This feels a little difficult to be in. Poor uke. Sorry if this one is kind of weird, but can you put your hands, I dunno, on my ass, I guess? I know that's probably too much but I think it'll be a good detail, so please? I'll pay you"

Rin stares at you, teeth gritting so hard he feels the back of his skull throb. "Fine."

Rin, per your request, puts his hands on your ass. It's easy enough, and he doesn't hold too tight. But it's too intimate, too stupidly fucking intimate, and he can feel you. You're hardly paying attention, caught up in your own head with whatever else. Rin is paying too much attention. Like how your sweatpants aren't thick enough to cover the outline of your frumpy cotton panties and how your soft all over. He's going to kill someone. Maybe himself.

Six more clicks and a little noise of satisfaction.

"Okay!!! I think these will turn out so great, and I can use them later too. Just one more. I have a lot of refs for this position, but uhm - I want to see if I can get the proportions correct, so if you'd please lay down," You tell him with such genuine excitement he can't find it in himself to say anything horribly cruel. "I'll be doing most of the work this time. I just-just need to see how uke will compare..."

You mutter something to yourself as Rin lets you down and lays himself down on your bed. You sit next to him for a long while, squinting at your phone. Rin stares at you as you. Wonders if he's gone completely insane, and tries to ignore the doom of the impending hard-on cozying itself in his pants.

Unceremoniously, you find yourself perching over Rin's lap. Not bothering to give him any pretense, it's the one thing about today that's really getting him.

"Oh, I need my hands for this," You give him the remote and stare down at him wide-eyed, over his lap. This has to be hell. "Could you take the photos this time?"

He closes his eyes and counts to ten and wonders if a concussion has made him insane. "Hm."

You brighten and Rin feels his chest go tight. "Thanks!"

Rin just nods, his mouth drying as you start to move and pose. A picture with your hands next to his head, and anothe r where you're sat up - your hands at your sides. Rin obediently takes pictures when you ask, his entire body tensing every single time you move.

"Okay, last one," You say. This time, you put your hands on his chest. Just the one. You must have something specific in your head that you're wanting to recreate. You bend down close, looking down at him as you do - your other hand clenched.

Rin looks up at you. He should not be thinking about you in any way. He's looking at the way your lips curve and plump and at your bare skin and your dark circles and your stupid licensed anime hoodie. He just gapes at you in confusion and mystique. He's around so many weirdos. It's not like there's anything special about you. You’re just another freak who makes porn of him. Plenty of people do that.

A loser and an idiot with no sense of self-preservation. There's nothing special about this, but Rin hasn’t been able to convince himself of that.

You stare down at him.

"Take a picture?"

Rin looks at you. Studies your expression. You seem like you're thinking. It's the only oppurtunity he has to pry.

"Did you want to ask something?" He says first. “You’re not hard to read.”

You startle, then nod. Your hand is on his chest. It's warm, and smaller than his.

"Oh, I-I guess I was wondering about what you asked me earlier. And uhm, like, I don't know. If you ever did anything. Your relationships aren't in the media and fans speculate but," You fall flat on your words. "I guess I was just curious."

Rin hates this question. It's why he never answers it. Why he hates being called a hearthrob, always too shallow and too personal for his taste.

"Nothing long term or serious. It was most for physical relief." Rin says, almost on autopilot. “Not that’d you know what that’s like.”

Your eyes widen. Rin feels his hands twitch, watching your expression finally grown conscious of him. Lust spreads through you like honey and Rin can see it in how you look. You squirm in his lap. He's not usually so aggressive, not usually one to care about sex in any important way. Not one to brag about something so unbelievably inane and trivial.

But it's bothering him, just how much he's fighting the urge to pin you down and fuck you. You of all people. It's not like him. Rough sex is whatever, but it's bothering him how little any of it seems to register in your head anymore like it once did. You could barely breathe the first time you met.

He doesn't know why he cares that you don’t anymore. He doesn’t give a shit about anything related to you

But the thought nothing seems to bother you anymore bothers him.

"Oh... I see. That's uhm, interesting. I b-bet you have a lot more experience than me. Maybe it'd be a good thing to keep you around for that kind of refernce too," You joke.

Rin lets his hand slip up to your hips without asking, not bothering to hide it anymore. His head feels with nothing but stupid useless thoughts. Thoughts of fucking you in your old, worn clothes and stained shirts and comfortable cotton underwear. Thoughts of your hands clutching at his shoulder all weepy with desire and need and stupidity - your big wide eyes bleary and sensitive. It's cruel how relentlessly he thinks about taking advantage of all your differences. Of how unathletic and awkward and unused to everything you are.

It's horrible just how much he's staving off his own arousal about it. Maybe you're strange habits are infecting him, making him strange too strange. All Rin can think about uselessly is how easily he could put you in your place. Fix you in some strange way. You’d be his to fix and you’d cry and weep and want to run away. Rin wouldn’t let you, keep you pinned and caged like an animal.

His throat feels tight. What is fucking wrong with him today?

Is he that pent up? He stares at you, and gets some passing feeling that there is more to it than that. He closes his eyes.

"Whatever," He says, letting go. You don't seem to notice it again, how thick his voice is getting "Are you almost done?"

You nod and smile. "Yes. Thank you."

Rin feels his heart tug and seethes. “You're welcome."

[coralinnii]

Congrats on reaching the 2.7 K followers milestone!! If it's okay to ask why specifically 2.7 K?

anyways I heard you were taking requests so I'll request something to celebrate with you :-D

I was wondering if you could do one where Idia, Kalim, Azul, Riddle rejects Fem!reader but ends up falling for reader after that, how would they react when they need to reject her and when the realization of them liking her back hits? (I tried to come up with an og idea but idrk if this one is actually good enough writing material :'-D)

 ‧₊˚✧ Waking up Too Late ‧₊˚✧

↳ Realizing their feelings for fem!reader after rejecting you 

feat: Idia ❋ Kalim ❋ Azul ❋ Riddle genre: slight hurt/comfort, open ending note: no pronouns were used but reader is written as a female in mind, reader can be interpreted as Yuu!reader, 

Question: Why specifically 2.7K? Well... I wanted to do something when I reached 2k but by the time I finished my initial wave of requests and WIPs, it already reached 2.7K ^_^" There wasn't a real rhyme or reason... I was just really late to the game

extra note: the joke in the start of Azul’s section doesn’t mean anything bad about him in general. It’s just Azul reminds me too much of myself during my younger days and I wasn't the biggest fan of myself back then.

Also, if anyone is wondering... I haven't stopped writing. I was just unable to find time for myself during the last 3 months because my classes and work didn't leave me time to do much outside of that. Seriously, I had assignments due on weekdays AND weekends! If none of you know who I am or didn't even realize I was gone... ignore me and have a good day ^_^

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

The Big Ooff

Regardless of Idia’s feelings before or after the confession, he rejected you in fear of change. He was content with the way things are, where he doesn’t have to worry about things like romance and relationships. 

Idia can’t imagine being the main protagonist for anything. He’s not the cool main hero or the handsome prince that gets the pretty girl. That's for the extroverts with high charm specs (a.k.a not him). Afterall, when does the NPC ever win? 

So when you, his friend and confidant, his solace and only exception, told him that you held feelings more than friendship…well, his system short-circuited. 

While the two of you said it wouldn’t change your friendship, you still wanted time away from him to heal the hurt. Idia agreed that the risky emotional roll dealt some real backlash to both of you.

The Realization

Idia tried to deny it, but he started imagining an alternative universe where he did accept your confession that fateful day. 

If he were to zone out during his level grinding sessions, he would vaguely envision himself in the same position, but perhaps with you lying next to him or even running your fingers through his flames. These daydreams would surprise him literally off the bed, his aforementioned flames burning a cute pinkish hue.

Some days when he’s browsing around online shops, he would occasionally encounter items that remind him of you.

Now, that in itself is not new but rather it was when he imagined how cute you would be if he got these items for you. Instead of your usual pleasantly surprised thank you, would you lovingly embrace him, maybe even kiss-! 

Ortho was startled to see his brother suddenly falling off his gaming chair, with his hands suspiciously covering his face. 

Crap, not only did he realize his feelings for you (which in hindsight probably was not surprising in the least), but he actually would like to be in a stupid lovey-dovey relationship with you. 

His Next Moves?

Continues to deny everything. So what if he wants a relationship with you? He can’t handle this new step even with these newly realized emotions. Plus, he was the one who blew his own shot by rejecting you the first time. 

So, he falls to his coping mechanism which is to deny everything and that he’s perfectly fine the way things are. 

When the two of you returned to your typical routine, he tried to keep things the way it used to be, as the same with you. 

Except it’s not quite the same. 

You weren’t sure if you were being conscious or that it’s been a while since you two hung out, but you felt that Idia was slightly more…attentive you could say?

He would give you first bids of the better controller before picking anything himself. If you seemed the slightest bit uncomfortable while sitting, the blue-flamed senior would offer you a comfier spot on his bed and a blanket if you wanted, before sputtering that he meant nothing weird about it.

He says he’s fine, but Idia’s is in no way the usual closed-off, sometimes cocky genius you knew before. He’s jittery, more prone to shriek and burst into pink flames to any of your gestures, and according to his little brother his heartbeat is slightly faster than usual. 

It’s weird…it’s like he actually acknowledges you as a woman…

Oh.

“Ahh, I seriously chose the wrong choice option. The story path…I wonder if I could still salvage a good ending…”

The Big Ooff

Kalim’s overly friendly nature, while harmless, is somewhat misleading and confusing to those around him. I mean, if someone threw a grand luxurious party for you, it’s easy to assume that you were someone special. Unfortunately, Kalim is simply just…too friendly. He would do this and more for just about anyone, no matter how special they may or may not be.

Nonetheless, you still wanted to tell him your feelings. You wanted to tell him how his smile and laugh hastens your heartbeat as you smile back. That you feel butterflies every time he extends his hands to you, coaxing you to dance with the boisterous Housewarden of Scarabia. 

To everyone’s genuine surprise, the snow-haired student sincerely apologized to you, not able to return your feelings the same way. All of your friends and also Scarabia was so sure that their Housewarden thought differently of you, but news quickly spread that Kalim never thought about being more than friends with you.

The Realization

To clarify, Kalim never thought about being more than friends with anyone. He’s happy to have so many friends, what more could he possibly want?

But your words did shake him mentally. He never realized that you would feel this way for him. On days when he can’t keep track of the lessons at hand, his mind would doze off and wander back to your confession. 

“Hastening heartbeat, feelings of butterflies, always wanting to smile when you do…”

The more he thinks about your love symptoms, he’s realizing how similar those feelings were to his own when he’s around you. It was why he would always try to find you in a crowd, or why he wanted to be your dance partner on any occasion. Sure, he’s happy to be around everyone, but he feels especially good when it's you.

The pieces are connecting, the clogs are aligning, and soon…

“JAMIL, I THINK I’M IN LOVE TOO!” 

“IS YOUR LACK OF INTROSPECTION THIS BAD?!”

His Next Moves?

Man is now a fool in love. He has this goofy smile on his boyish face at the slightest mention of you. Everytime he thinks about you, he keeps attempting to buy one or two grand bouquets of flowers for you, each flower as beautiful as you, much to Jamil’s chagrin as the vice-Housewarden has to keep reminding him of a crucial fact. 

“You two aren’t dating. Actually worse considering your prior actions.” 

Jamil’s brutal but accurate words brought Kalim back to harsh reality as he realized his mistake in not realizing his feelings soon enough. But not one to wallow in the past, Kalim sought to tell you his feelings just as you bravely did before. 

Whether I personally think if that’s a smart move is irrelevant

Whatever your response is to him, Kalim would fully respect your choice, prioritizing your comfort and feelings over his newly uncovered ones. Despite his well intentions and honest feelings before the realization, his carelessness hurt you and he needed to consider your healing process. 

Kalim would still act like a love-sick fool, however. Buying beautiful trinkets because he thought of you but won’t push them onto you if you couldn’t handle the heavy sentiment (thank Jamil for that). 

Though a little more sheepishly, he would still extend his hand to you hoping for a dance, small little gestures to make you smile even the slightest bit brighter…all this and more because “I like you” and nothing else.

Just because he’s slow in figuring things out, his feelings won’t change so easily. This special feeling of happiness, of love… he’s grateful that you taught him this whole new world.

"I’m a little much? Haha, sorry. I get really happy when I see you...It feels nice being in love with you.”

The Big Ooff

Please reconsider 

Ahem. Azul has grown accustomed to your presence. Perhaps even look forward to it throughout his daily routine, even assisting you in whatever trouble you always seem to get involved in. Some would accuse him of favoritism, but Azul argued that he was simply a gentleman treating a lady right.

He’s too observant to not notice that these sentiments are somewhat mutual. He thought of you as too kind and generous as to spend your spare time helping him around the lounge or to keep him company when the Leech twins get a little much. 

But he was surprised to learn that your feelings were deeper than he initially predicted. There was such sincerity in your voice as you confess your feelings that it shook Azul to his core and turned his human legs weak. 

However, he still had so many aspirations he hasn’t reached yet, opportunities he can’t miss. He can’t afford to split his time for something like romance, something that didn't register to him as urgent in the first place. Love is all well and good, but success is better and more tangible.

He’s careful with his words, gratefully thanking you for your confession and complimenting you with a list of traits he admired about you. 

But you should know Azul by now. He’s hyping you up before ultimately giving you crushing news. Like a company recruiter telling you weren’t chosen despite your apparent talents. 

You knew this, but it still hurts to have your dynamic treated equivalent to that of a business relation. 

The Realization

Azul understood you needed time away. Certain things were said that can’t be taken back and it’ll be a while before you two could feel comfortable around each other again. 

During this time though, the Housewarden truly felt your absence. He feels it when someone else takes a seat in his office where you usually occupy, when his mealtime feels less fulfilling because you weren’t there to enjoy it with him, when his headaches get worse from stress and you weren’t there to lend a comforting hand. 

This sense of void was like a stream of cold water slowly trickling into his body and mind until he felt heavy and almost drowning. What an odd sensation for a deep-sea merman. 

His mind became cluttered. He can’t focus on his work when all he could think about is where you might be and what you were doing. 

He reached his limit when he realized that he couldn’t even hide this internal conflict from Jade or Floyd when their keen eyes pick on every moment of his loss of focus, and they have an inkling as to the cause. 

…Dear Sevens, he might have made a great miscalculation on his own feelings.

His Next Moves?

First off, he’s going to spend some time in his pot. He needs some personal time reflecting over his own obliviousness and self-sabotage. 

Once that’s over, he now has to figure out how to remedy this. A plan to get back into your good graces after the blunder. 

He is a greedy merman. If he’s going to do something, he wants the best outcome possible, which is you forgiving him and accepting him while forgetting the past even happened.  

He’s read through countless relationship books, advice found online, and personal intel that his schoolmates were forced to generous enough to offer under an NDA. 

He’ll use the knowledge he remembered from your confession to his advantage, highlighting the parts of himself that he knew you liked about him. He shows off his good side in hopes to reignite what attracted you to him. 

If there’s anything to expose his intent with you, it’s the flush of his pale skin when you finally thanked him with that sweet smile he missed so much.

"I’m not one to lose an opportunity when within my reach. However long it takes, I’ll earn back what I’ve foolishly lost.”

The Big Ooff

Riddle was, in all seriousness, taken aback by your confession.

The studious Housewarden of Heartslabyul is definitely smart, but he’s just slightly lacking in the people-reading department. 

To him, you were simply a very loving person. He thought perhaps you were on the shyer side but always worrying about his well-being, making sure he’s taken breaks and to enjoy himself between his duties.

You were still a little rambunctious as lately you seem at odds with Ace as you’re quick to smack and silence the mischievous redhead who seems to snicker more often than usual as of late. 

Frankly, you left him stunned, his face similar to a deer in headlights. No textbook or lecture has prepared him to reply back to your sincere confession. 

In the end, he rejected you while giving his full honesty. Silly things like love and relationships were subjects he never thought to consider in depth, and he wasn’t sure it was something he wanted at the moment. 

He tried to explain the best he could, but you couldn't stop the aching feeling of your heart breaking. 

The Realization

Your relationship with Riddle took a blow but it was not destroyed. Albeit some awkwardness here and there, life flows relentlessly as usual. 

But that fateful day would occasionally sneak its way into Riddle’s mind during his spare moments to himself, recalling your determined face, coupled with his memories of your beautiful, clear eyes.

Nowadays, his heart would tighten, his throat would feel dry, and his breathing would be shallower whenever his thoughts sway towards you. 

Spurred by these odd symptoms, he finally looked more into the topic of love. The more he delved into talks on relationships, seminars on emotional attraction, and even tropes from novels, the more it feels as though he’s going down a rabbit hole of new emotional discoveries. 

For a while, the Heartslabyul dorm was on edge as they feared for their necks every time their terrifying Housewarden suddenly turned franticly scarlet out of nowhere.

Alone in Riddle’s room, surrounded by articles and books littered on his once pristine desk, Riddle found his conclusion; he’s in love too

His Next Moves?

Riddle isn’t actually sure how to approach you anymore. This whole “in love” experience is all too new to him. He couldn’t bring up this embarrassing topic with any of his peers, and much less with his mother (Sevens knows he doesn’t exactly want to replicate a relationship like his parents). 

But he couldn’t handle the sudden sensations of nerves that occur every time he’s close to you. He can’t keep up constantly chastising himself internally for flinching every time he passes a tart or a teacup to you during Unbirthday parties. 

He can no longer focus during his study sessions with you as he’s now fighting with himself as he dreams to hold your free hand or to brush a stray lock of hair from your endearing face. 

Was it as difficult to deal with as it was for you? Was this the reason you decided to confess to him? But the thought of speaking to you about something so intimate invokes nerves in him that he couldn’t understand.

No, he should learn from your example. If the natural progression of his feelings should be clear communication between those involved, then he will face this challenge as confidently as he does with any other. 

Prepare yourself, the stubborn Riddle has made a goal for himself. 

“I admit my inexperience has hurt those I cherish. Next time, I will respond to your bravery in kind.” 

[reilemon]

💫Xavier, Xavier, Xavier...💫

♡︎synopsis: Xavier shows you what happens when you push your luck.

♡︎pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎cw: established relationship, edging, orgasm denial, oral sex (both male and female receiving), fingering, creampie, pet names

♡︎word count: 2.1k

♡︎a/n: Okay, it starts when MC falls onto the sofa and Xavier asks 'what's your answer'. Although I love how MC reassures him after, I changed some stuff between that moment and the doorbell, to set the tone for the rest of the fic 🤭.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this!

divider by @cafekitsune

The back of your knees hit the sofa making you plop down onto the couch.

Xavier cages you in with his legs on either side of yours, his hands resting on the back and armrest. "So, what's your answer?"

You grin in amusement. He's so cute (and hot) when he gets jealous. You squish his pillowy cheeks "Are you jealous?"

He averts his gaze, pouting. "No."

You can't deny how attractive he looked just now as he basically cornered you onto the couch with the raised eyebrow, the intense gaze as he towered over you.

You did get a feeling that you may have talked about Lumiere too much, and this merch unpacking didn't help. Still, you want to tease him more. Because he's being ridiculous and he should know that all of you belongs to him - Xavier.

You check the time on the digital watch in the distance. You should have around four, five minutes. Biting back a mischievous grin, you look up at him with innocent eyes as your hands wander from his cheeks, down over his torso to slowly stroke the front of his pants. "I've been talking about Lumiere too much, have I?"

His breath hitches as he watches you unbutton his pants.

"Let me make it up to you." You free his already hard dick. You always make him worked up so easily. Your tongue slides from the base towards the tip, your mouth giving the cockhead attention while your hand strokes the rest of his length.

Xavier's hand rests on your head, and he's resisting the urge to buck his hips, to feel more of your delicious mouth.

He pants "You still haven't -"

The doorbell rings.

He completely forgot about the delivery that was on the way.

You take the chance of momentarily distraction and pull away. "We can't keep the delivery guy waiting."

Disbelief written all over his face, he grabs you by the chin. "Nope. I still haven't heard the answer I want."

You swat away his hand and you squeeze through between him and the couch, rushing towards the door. You chime over your shoulder "I'm the injured one here, Lumi - I mean, Xavier!" And you can't help a sly smile that creeps up on your lips when you're away from his eyesight.

Xavier heard that nice and clear as he zipped up his pants. You're so paying for that later.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The rest of the days of your recovery are the same - uneventful. You had the checkup, leveled up in the game, watched more movies and TV shows, ate those healthy porridges and Xavier's questionable smoothies. The new Lumiere merch and your occasional teasing of Xavier made this mundane routine more exciting. You had the ‘girlfriend in recovery’ immunity, so you made good use of it. You would either "accidentally" refer to him as Lumiere, or you'd keep suggesting to him to wear the costume once you're fully recovered.

You adored seeing his pouts, and you couldn't help but feel excited when he's jealous, especially when you remember that one night in the club bathroom*.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Couple of days pass since your full recovery and return to work. Both you and Xavier were too busy while getting back on track with everything, but tonight you finally have time for each other.

Finally.

You're aching for his touch. He didn't want to do anything while he was your caregiver, even though you insisted that you're fine. You did tease him that time when he was wearing the Lumiere costume, but he didn't mention it later and neither did you.

As much as you complained about that "mundane routine", you missed it now that your schedule is hectic again, so you decided to invite Xavier for a movie night. You're going to watch an old movie "The Mask of Zorro" and eat dinner that already arrived. You change into pajama shorts and your favorite Xavier's hoodie that you stole.

A few minutes later the doorbell rings, so you answer it - and you almost squeal in excitement when you see Xavier in Lumiere outfit at your doorstep.

He decided to wear this since you already bought it for him, and because he did feel silly for feeling jealous of his own persona. Seeing your enthusiasm makes him amused and glad that he indulged you.

And he ignores the jealous feeling creeping up in his chest again.

He steps in and greets you by taking your hand a planting a soft kiss on top of it. Then he pulls you by the waist and gives your lips a gentle peck.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a deeper kiss. You pull away with a smile, your finger dangling the ear cuff "Let's go to the bedroom."

"I thought you invited me for dinner?"

"That can wait."

Xavier chuckles and lifts you up princess style and walks towards the bedroom, as you kiss and lick his sensitive neck.

When he softly places you on the bed, you immediately sit up to the edge, his crotch right in front of you. You sweetly look up at him as your hand strokes over his clothed member “I think I owe you something, Lumiere.”

Lumie- Xavier’s jaw clenches. He takes a deep breath and his gloved hand catches you wrist. “Lumiere, huh?”

That sly grin threatens to tug at your lips. Oh, this is going to be good. You give him your best innocent pout and angelic doe eyes, acting oblivious.

Letting go of your wrist, he takes off your hoodie, revealing you’re wearing nothing underneath, your breasts bare and already nipples perked up. He kneels in front of you, one gloved hand groping one while his mouth gives attention to the other one, gently kissing and sucking sensitive the nipple. Shortly after, you lie down, resting on your elbows, as he takes off your shorts and panties together.

With his teeth, he removes a glove from one hand and offers you his two middle fingers which you take into your mouth, sucking on them, tongue swirling, generously coating them. Breaking the string of saliva between your lips and his digits, with feather-like touch, he grazes between your lower lips, his eyes hungrily eyeing your pussy that is already glistening with arousal.

You swallow an impatient moan, but you subtly wiggle your hips, urging him to press harder.

"So impatient." He chuckles and stills your hips with his other hand, the leather glove providing a new and exciting sensation. You jolt as his fingers suddenly press your clit, rubbing it in painfully slow motion, but you can't move your hips to stimulate yourself more, your small whines showing your frustration.

"What is it, princess?" Xavier innocently asks. "Don't you like it when I’m gentle?"

A sigh leaves your lips. "I do... Lumiere. You're so gentle and sweet." As much as you want to beg for him to touch you more, take you right now, you want to provoke him even more.

So he continues with the teasing - grazing your clit, going around your dripping entrance for a few more minutes before finally slipping one finger inside, a moan slipping from your lips, making his hard cock twitch. He slips it in and out a few times before the second finger joins. The front of his pants is becoming unbearably tight as he listens to your beautiful moans when his finger curl hitting that sweet spot inside you, his mouth salivating at the sight of your wet pussy being finger fucked by him, so he latches his lips onto your bundle of nerves.

Your eyes roll back as he does so, your hand finding purchase in his fluffy hair, but you still can't move your hips as he is firmly holding you, his hand pressing your lower belly. He got you so worked up with all the teasing that you're starting to feel the heat pooling in your pussy, your leg muscles twitching as you try to meet the thrusts of his fingers.

You only manage to whisper Lumi-, before suddenly both his fingers and lips pull away, a frustrated whine leaving your lips as you were so close to cumming.

Xavier gives you a self-satisfied smirk "I'm just taking it nice and slow with my princess." and then he pushes you further onto the bed and flips you over on your stomach, propping your ass up. He silently sighs in relief behind you as he unzips and frees his throbbing cock.

You arch your back as you feel the cockhead swiping between your folds, and just when you're about to move, that gloved hand stops you by your lower back. You bite the pillow in annoyance and let him take his sweet time, the tip teasingly slipping in and out.

He bends your leg, spreading you out more for him, and lies down on top of you, his clothed body putting oppressing weight on top of your completely naked form. His hot breath tickles your ear and the gloved hand wraps around your neck, making you look up at him "Were you gonna say something, bunny?"

Your pussy flutters around his tip, and you open your mouth to beg him to just fuck you, to let you cum, but you stay silent and swallow thickly, and you only shake your head.

He hums in amusement and lets go of your neck to prop his weight on his hands as he starts moving his hips. With shallow thrusts he slowly eases himself inside you, he lets out a choked groan as your walls clench around him when he bottoms out.

You mewl into the pillow as his hips roll at a languid pace, and you flinch when his fingers find your clit, pinching it and rubbing small circles. You can move your hips now, but he's set on being "gentle" and all you can do is whine and moan underneath him as his slow strokes make you cream around his cock, the delayed orgasm flaring up again.

(Un)fortunately for you, Xavier knows your body too well, and just as you thought you could cum without a warning, he completely pulls out and his hand leaves your tender bud.

You groan into the pillow "Xavier!"

"Oh?" his voice is clear and composed, but you don't see him shutting his eyes as he's squeezing his tip with his hand. In a few seconds he calms down and leans over you, whispering in your ear "I thought you wanted Lumiere... "

You were so desperate to cum you didn't notice that you dropped your sweet innocent act.

He flips you on your back, pushing your legs up by the back of your knees, with his heavy cock just resting between your swollen folds.

He swats away your hand when you reach down to put it back inside, but presses his thumb on your needy clit, making you squirm at the contact.

“Please…” You pant.

“Hm?” He cocks an eyebrow “Who are you talking to, my little bunny?”

You whimper as your bud is neglected yet again “Xavier… Just fuck m- !” You don’t finish the sentence and Xavier completely buries his dick inside, then pulling back almost completely before shoving it back inside, and you cry out in pleasure as his cock pounds into you with the vigorous pace that you desperately needed.

The heat rushes through your body, head dizzy, but you muster enough strength to sit up and grab Xavier by the back of his neck, slipping off the ear cuff, wrapping your arms and legs around him, needing to feel his whole weight on top of you as he mercilessly pounds into you.

His hips falter for a moment, but he continues at the same pace - angling his hips to keep hitting your sensitive spot while his pelvis slaps against your swollen pearl. His arms wrap around your torso and he pulls you into a sloppy, wet kiss.

Right before the waves of your orgasm overtake you pant Xavier, Xavier, Xavier against his lips, and with your pulsing walls around his girth, he thrusts deep inside, filling up your pussy as he moans my love in your ear.

The two of you lie there, wrapped into each other’s arms, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, hips still moving to help the other come down from their high.

When he pulls out, you notice your mixed fluids all over his white pants. “I think those pants are ruined.” You comment and then your eyes squint at him “Was that your plan all along?”

He avoids your gaze, impish smile on his lips. “Maybe.”