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cupidbedsy · 11 days ago

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୨୧ his name ; lh43

➪ summary: 3 times luke sees his girlfriend with his name on her back

➪ warnings: luke being utterly obsessed with his name on his girl, this is not at all proofread !

➪ word count: 3.2k

➪ file type: fluff fic

➪ cupid's notes: i've had this in progress since october so it might be a little shitty it might not be. i absolutely am in love this idea and i am so happy that old me came up with this! i did cut two scenes out but don't worry... they'll be making their appearance sooner or later. also this is for my lovely elise who i would assume did actually end up falling asleep so this is her good mornign present @digitalhughes-jpg

1. matchmaking - the day y/n and luke met

She had been dragged out of her dorm by her roommate, she had no desire to go be surrounded by a bunch of people. Nonetheless, she couldn’t really pass up the opportunity to go watch college hockey, it was too intriguing.

So there she was, standing in Yost Arena, in one of her friend’s old Michigan shirts from when Bella’s brother went there. They stood excitedly amongst the rest of their friends and other students who had found their place around them, watching as the team celebrated the goal they had just scored.

It was only halfway through the second period that her mind put together that the guy’s name she was wearing across her back was the same as one of the player’s names on the team. She furrowed her eyebrows as she scrolled through her phone, looking over the roster.

She was quick to put Luke’s name into Instagram, navigating her way to Quinn’s eventually, finally realizing that he went there at the same time Bella’s brother had. It was probably just a weird coincidence, it didn’t mean anything. But she wouldn’t put it past Bella to be planning something. It was just who she was.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

After the game, their group of friends lingered in the hallway waiting for the hockey players to emerge from the locker room. It was never brought to her attention that so many of her friends had known some of the guys on the team, mostly because she was never all that curious to ask.

She and Bella strayed from the group, huddling against the wall and talking about something random when a group of 5 or more players came out, laughing about something one of them had said. When her gaze found a familiar face, she cocked her head to the side trying to figure out where she had seemed him before. It didn’t take long for it took click, causing her to go still in shock, so her Instagram stalking ‘skills’ did prove to be useful.

She was snapped out of her trance when Bella jumped, an arm now thrown over her shoulders. The two of them looked up in sync, now staring at Owen who stood taller than the two of them, “Hey.”

Y/n looked between the two of them confusedly before the girl opposite of her smiled, “Y/n/n, this is my boyfriend, Owen, and Owen this is my best friend y/n!”

The boy nodded and smiled, “Nice to finally put a face to the name Bella brings up every time we hang out.”

Y/n quirked an eyebrow looking over at her friend, “Wow, I’ve never had someone talk so much about me.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s more in love with you than she is with me.” Bella hit Owen across the chest before giving him a look.

He glanced down at her before what seemed like recognition flashed in his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He turned to look over his shoulder, eyes trying to find a familiar lanky figure, “Oh right. Luke c’mere!”

To the side of them, the rest of y/n and Bella’s friends stood next to the four remaining hockey players, one snapping his head up to look at the trio. He excused himself from the group before making his way over to them, smiling awkwardly, “Hey.”

“So you’ve met Bella,” Owen gestured to his girlfriend who grinned and waved.

Luke nodded his head, his nervous smile still plastered on his face as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Before Owen could get another word out, Bella’s excited voice filled their ears, “And this is my best friend, y/n!”

Said girl made eye contact with the boy, her cheeks flushing, “Hi.”

“Hi.”

An uncomfortable silence fell around them before Bella once again made her presence known, “Well Owen and I have a reservation to get to so we’ll see you later.”

“But I thought we were-”

“Bye, y/n/n!” The two stumbled down the hallway and only got so far before they let out amused giggles.

The rest of their friends had already left, leaving as soon as Luke had made his departure from the group. So now, y/n stood next to him, embarrassed by the situation the two had been shoved into. For a moment, they just kept stealing glances at each other before Luke spoke, “Do you want to get some food? I mean we don’t have to but I just thought since they kind of left us that you-”

She cut him off with a laugh, “Sure.”

The two started making their way down the hallway, making small talk about the most generic things. When they reached the door, Luke opened it and ushered her through, y/n’s small ‘thank you’ making its way to his ears.

As he stepped out into the parking lot, the October air making its way through his jacket, his eyes trained on the letters on the back of her shirt, “Where’d you get that shirt?”

She stopped briefly, remembering what exactly was on her back before she spoke, “Oh uh Bella’s brother went here when yours did and she just stole this shirt from him and then gave it to me to wear tonight.”

He nodded, and the two of them walked down through the parking lot toward his car. Silence fell around them once again, a chill making its way up y/n’s spine. She shuddered, pulling the sleeves of her shirt around her and before crossing them over her chest. Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her, “Here.”

“Oh I’m fine, thank you though.”

“Hah as if, take it.”

Reluctance shone in her eyes but the stubbornness that shone in his was too heavy to ignore, so she took it from him and wrapped it around herself, sighing at the newfound warmth it brought her. They reached his car only seconds later, Luke opening the passenger side door, waiting for her to climb in.

Once she was, he closed it, walked over to the driver’s side to get in himself, turned the car on, and put the heat on full blast before pulling out of the parking lot and starting to drive through campus.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Dinner came and went, the two of them stopping at one of the local restaurants in town before he dropped her back off at her dorm room. When he put the car in park, the two of them stole glances at each other, breaking out in a laugh once their gazes met.

“Thank you… for dinner.”

Luke nodded, “Yeah ‘course.”

She slowly opened the door, stopping to hand him his jacket that he had loaned her earlier. He smiled as their hands brushed, taking the fabric into his hand knowing full well that as soon as she was gone he would just throw it haphazardly in the backseat.

“I um-” he started, stammering over his words as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. A beat passed and he let out a breath before locking eyes with her, “Do you want to hang out sometime?”

Heat rushed to her cheeks despite being out in the cold, she blinked a few times before nodding, unable to keep the grin off her face, “Yeah. I’d love to.”Luke watched her walk to her dorm, studying each letter of his last name splayed on her back. While it was his name and his number, it wasn’t truly his. But he’d make it his mission to see his jersey on her, even if it took all the time in the world.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

2. new year, new meaning - the first time y/n wears luke’s jersey

It had been almost a year since Luke and y/n had met, hanging out every waking moment they could. If Luke was somewhere cross-country, they would set time to FaceTime each other, giggling like middle schoolers as they talked.

But today would be the first time wearing Luke’s jersey… as his girlfriend. To say she was nervous was a complete understatement, not that she was worried Luke would make fun of her or anything, she knew he would do quite the opposite actually. Yet, the thought of other people even just thinking something about her doing it to get attention made her uncomfortable.

She toyed with the ends of her braids, staring at herself in the mirror of her shared dorm room. She was still rooming with Bella, who had been watching her from her bed since y/n had started getting ready, but the girl had certainly lost her enthusiasm for going to games with her boyfriend in Buffalo now.

She adjusted the baseball cap on her head before turning to look at her best friend, “Yes? No? I don’t know maybe I should change-”

“Y/n stop it,” Bella hopped off her bed, making her way over to the girl and placing her hands on her shoulders. “You look amazing, you look hot, if Luke doesn’t take you out after the game, I will.”

She let the tension release from her shoulders, taking a deep breath before nodding, “Yeah… okay.”

The two drove to the arena, making comments here and there about how the team would do this year, whether Luke would be called up or not this year, how Owen was adjusting to his life in Buffalo, etc. They walked into Yost Arena, hand in hand as they navigated their way to their seats.

She had been so in her head that they had gotten there about 10 minutes before the game started causing them to have to find their seats quickly. Y/n hadn’t seen Luke since yesterday, she had been too busy with classes to allow him to come over or to go over to his to see him, so she was left with not seeing him until after the game.

Throughout the whole game, her eyes were trained on her boyfriend, watching as he skated across the ice, took a few hits, and caused a few altercations with the opposing team. As the clock winded down, her thumb made its way to her mouth, biting at her nails as she tried to keep up with everything that was happening.

When Luke scored the game-winning goal, she was all but silent, screaming out how happy she was that not only they had won but he had been the reason they had. It made her buzz with excitement as they made their way down to the tunnel, exchanging a few words with some of the people they passed that they knew.

Her feet had started aching from standing too much, so she found comfort against the wall and pulled out her phone no doubt going to play Block Blast. She was too into the game to notice Luke standing above her, it took him to place his shoes right up against her for her to look up, a bright grin spreading across her face, “Lukey!”

She stood, going on her tiptoes in order to wrap her arms around his neck, “M’so proud of you.”

He buried his head into her neck, bending down to do so, as his arms snaked around her waist, bringing her as close as possible to him, “Thank you, baby. Think you’re my good luck charm.”

His hand shamelessly made its way down to her ass, giving it a soft pat before pulling away to stare at her. She blushed under his gaze and from his small action, leaning forward to rest her head against his chest. Y/n didn’t have to see Luke to know that he had a smug look on his face, lips most likely turned up into a smirk.

“You look good in my jersey, baby.” His hand rubbed circles on her back, trying to coax her to remove her head from the confines of his chest.

She mumbled a soft ‘thank you’, her arms now around his torso. He didn’t say anything more, just soaking in the moment with her, standing there in silence. He was one of the last ones to leave the locker room but by now he was sure all of his teammates had already left and the fans had all cleared out.

“C’mon, it's late. Let's get you to bed, hm?”

She nodded, finally pulling away and lacing her fingers with his as they walked out of the arena and towards his car.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Luke laid behind y/n on his bed, toying with the end of her jersey, wrapping the fabric around his finger, “Did I tell you how good you looked in this?”

He tugged at it, making her look over at him, “Just briefly, I think, yes.”

“Briefly isn’t enough. You look beautiful, sweetheart.” He glanced up at her face just in time to see her look away and the pink flush on her cheeks.

He whined, “Don’t look away, wanna see my pretty girl.”

“You’re so needy.” She teased lightly but complied nonetheless, maneuvering so she was lying down beside him, facing him as he had wanted.

He moved his hand up to her face, brushing his fingers over her cheek. She fell asleep quickly after that, exhaustion catching up with her as soon as she lay down. He huffed out a laugh, moving to take her jersey off so she wouldn’t be uncomfortable while she slept.

He did his best to not look as he slipped his shirt over her head, not wanting to push a boundary that he wasn’t sure they were ready to cross yet. He changed himself, slipping on a pair of shorts and another random t-shirt he found lying around before crawling back into bed, the image of her in his jersey permanently engraved in his mind.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

3. new jersey - her first new jersey devils game in her new jersey

Thanks to Jack, getting out to New York had been easy for her. With no classes on that Friday, she was able to fly out Thursday night, landing at almost midnight and heading to the hotel with Jack. Luke hadn’t questioned why his brother was leaving their apartment at 11, assuming that it was just some weird late-night craving that he needed to fulfill.

The next day she sat surrounded by the other wives and girlfriends of the Devils at UBS Arena watching as they faced the Isles. She had initially planned on going to one of their home games but this had been the first game she was able to attend and she couldn’t wait any longer to see her boyfriend play professional hockey.

Her streak of being a good luck charm at his game continued because he got his first goal of the season early into the second period. The cheers were loud around her and she wasn’t sure if it was her own cheering or if there actually were other people doing the same thing as her.

She looked down at what she was wearing, it was different to see the red fabric and the Devils logo staring back at her but she smiled as she thought about how far he had come since the two of them met. She was so unbelievably proud of her and she would trade anything in the world to see him as happy as he was.

Devils fans across the arena were beaming with excitement as they exited, Jack had just scored their overtime game-winning goal, and everyone, save for the Islanders fans, couldn’t have been happier.

She waited in the tunnel with some of the others like she had done countless times before back in Michigan. She played with the edge of her jersey as she rocked back and forth on her heels, making small conversations with those around her.

A loud voice caught her attention followed by a laugh, “Just walk out backwards! Trust me.”

“I don’t trust you that’s the problem.” She could recognize her boyfriend’s grumbled voice from a mile away, a grin appearing on her face at the annoyance that was ever so present in his tone.

“Okay okay stop. Now don’t turn around ‘till I say so.” Jack ran to hug y/n, giggling into her ear like he was about to pull the dumbest prank possible on his brother.

Luke turned when he was told to, his face looked more annoyed than she had thought it could be. He stared at his brother with an unamused look before his eyes drifted to his right, widening when he saw who was looking back at him, “Y/n/n?”

“What? Thought I would miss your first goal of the season. Never.”

His annoyed expression quickly turned around, making his way over to her to wrap her in a hug, “You’re here. Holy shit, how the fuck did you get here?’

“A plane.”

He rolled his eyes, “You know what I meant.”

“Didn’t have any classes and I wanted to see you. Jack picked me up from the airport last night, stayed in a hotel, and now I’m here.”

The rest of the group had left by now, allowing the two to have a moment to themselves. He pulled away, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. His eyes glassed over as he stared at her, it hadn’t really been long since they had seen each other, maybe a month or two, but it had been awful without her.

“Lukey,” her voice was soft as she grabbed his hand, squeezing it with just as much gentleness, “Don’t cry, you dork.”

His laugh was wet, tears lacing it. He took his free hand to his face, wiping the few tears that had managed to escape his eyes. She smiled at him, “You haven’t even noticed what I’m wearing yet!”

At that, he blinks the remaining sadness from his eyes, moving them to trail over her outfit, “Turn around.”

She did as she was told, turning slightly so he could. He moved her hair out of the way, placing it over her shoulder as his fingers traced over each letter of his name and the ‘4’ and the ‘3’. He stepped closer, leaning down to kiss her neck and her jaw before turning her back around, “Didn’t think you could get any prettier, but you always find ways to prove me wrong.”

She kissed him, hand cupping the back of his neck to bring him down to her level. His hands found their way to her hips almost instantly, sinking into the kiss easily. Her fingers tangled in his curls, giving them a slight tug once the need to breathe overtook her senses.

Pulling away to rest her forehead against his, despite her having to go up on her toes, she moved her hand to cup his face. It took a few seconds before she spoke, still trying to catch her breath, “Proud of you, you know that?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I do.”She re-intertwined her fingers with his, swinging their hands back and forth slightly as they walked out of the arena together, making their way into the earlier chill of October in New York. If one thing was certain after today, it was that Luke would never get tired of his name sprawled across her back, or anywhere on her really. It was his favorite sight to see, one that would be in his mind forever. Plus, he couldn’t wait to make it her last name too.

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#˚ ༘♡〚 cupids writing 〛ₓ｡#˚｡⋆〚 fics 〛#˚｡⋆〚 luke hughes 〛#luke hughes #lh43 #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n

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nerdygirlramblings · 5 days ago

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omegaverse 141

a/n part of this once again inspired by @dragonnarrative-writes and their comment on a previous chapter. also, if you have ideas for a title, that'd be great 😂

cw: a/b/o dynamics and typical omegaverse breeding (m! and f! omegas can get pregnant) mentioned

In the interim between your meeting with Captain Price and dinner with the task force you call your family pack. You know your moms and dad will give you their honest opinions, and right now you want that more than anything.

"Hey pretty girl," Dad says when he picks up the video call. "Everything okay? You usually don't call on a weekday unless we've planned it." For a moment you simply take in his smile and the way he's trying to reassure you.

You deflect. "How are you feeling, Dad?" He's carrying another litter, and after losing the last two, you know how important it is to everyone that this one is successful.

"Your moms have pretty much put me on bed rest," he says, rolling his eyes. "But you called us, honey, what's going on?"

You sigh. This is what you called them for. "Well, I wanted your opinion on something," you tell him.

"Just my opinion, or do you want the moms' too?"

You tell him you want everyone's opinion, so he moves through your childhood home to where your moms are, each room he passes drawing forth another bittersweet memory that has you missing him and your pack even more.

He finds your moms in your childhood bedroom, being transformed into a nursery, again. He sits on the rocking chair you remember, the one that floated between the three kids' bedrooms each time there was a new litter. Once your moms are standing behind Dad, you tell everyone about the offer to join Price's task force, and by extension his pack.

The more you tell them, the more your mind snags on how appealing being part of a pack is. But you can't help but be scared of the implications of that desire. Despite how Price laid things out, it's going to be hard enough to prove you're worthy of being on the 141, and if you become part of their pack, you'll never escape the talk about sleeping your way on the task force.

Your parents can tell your mind is somewhere else when you hear Mum insert your name into Bowie's "Space Oddity."

"Sorry, Mum. Wha' was i'?"

"I was just saying this - the task force, I mean - sounds like a great career opportunity. But I can't abide how much more danger this puts you in."

Mama adds, "Sounds like this alpha knew how to broach this. Didn't cock it up. And I agree with Mum, this is much more dangerous than what yer doing now. But sweetie, ya didn't see yerself when ya talked about what this would mean ta ya. And what doors it might open for other omegas like your brother."

You tear up. Both your moms see this for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it is. You notice no one's mentioned the other half of Price's offer. "Dad?" you prompt, "Wha' da you think?"

Dad watches you for a few minutes, smiling but sad: you can see it in his eyes. "I think you need to say yes, honey. Even if it scares us more, i's the right thing fer you." Your moms don't chime in; they don't need to. But you need want their thoughts on becoming a pack omega, Dad's in particular.

"And the other part?" you ask quietly, looking away.

"Honey, becoming pack omega fer yor moms was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I ever made. I love yer moms," you watch their faces through his declaration, both putting a comforting hand somewhere on him, "and they gave me all of you pups. If Price is as good an alpha as he is a Captain, if 'e's a guiding hand for his pack, then you couldn't have a better mate. In the end, trust your omega."

And that's the crux of the matter isn't it. Your omega has been scratching at your hind brain all afternoon because she wants to take Price up on both offers as soon as possible, but you need to be smart about optics and your career.

You tell your parents you love them and thank them for their honesty, promising to tell them what you decide before the ink dries. You end the call with a few minutes to spare before dinner and take that time to pull your emotions together.

#cod #poly!141 #poly!141 x reader #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse 141 #omegaverse tf 141 #a/b/o #a/b/o 141 #a/b/o tf 141 #john price #kyle garrick #johnny mactavish #simon riley #nerdygirl says

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batshit-auspol · 1 year ago

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have we talked about the woolworths debacle yet?

Sigh.

Alright kids strap in, because the culture wars are back and stupider than ever.

So there are two characters you need to be familiar with in this story before we continue:

Woolies (i.e. Woolworths) - One of two supermarket chains in Australia. Not related to the giant Woolworths chain that used to exist overseas, other than the Aussie one swiped the name because the original forgot to trademark the name 'Woolworths' here. Biggest company in Aus, and also the biggest employer. Not a brand anyone with more than two braincells would pick a fight with.

Peter Dutton - Man with less than two braincells, and current leader of the political opposition in Australia. Best known for bearing a passing resemblance to a potato and once demanding that a homophobic song get played for balance when a football halftime show performed 'Same Love'. His reputation is so bad that if you told an Australian that Dutton's favorite pastime was drowning puppies, they probably would believe you.

And to prove our point, here's the best headline a friendly newspaper could come up with to try spin his image:

The third thing you need to know is that in Australia we have a national holiday called "Australia Day" which is basically a scheduled day for everyone to get into a giant argument.

This is because for the last 30ish years it has been held on the anniversary of the British claiming the land around Sydney as a colony which was:

a) More the founding of an English prison then the founding of Australia, and more importantly

b) from the perspective of the people who were already living here, kindof a very shit day

Now not everyone agrees on this, and even those that don't 'celebrate' will often still have a get together with friends, but it can't be denied that we've shifted a long way from the days when the country used to celebrate Australia Day by kitting ourselves out in Aussie flag budgie smugglers, drinking enough beer to drown Harold Holt, and partying like it's 1789.

(Now a brief break for a real photo of Peter Dutton at a press conference)

Good luck sleeping tonight. Anyway back to the story.

As a result of this shift away from the trend of showing your patriotism by wearing Australian flag underpants, this year Woolworths decided that they were no longer going to be rolling out their box of southern cross thongs - on the grounds that "this kitschy shit never sells" and they are far too busy with more important things like blaming price gouging on inflation and installing self-checkout machines that think your canvas bag is a crime against humanity.

Never a man to miss an opportunity to act like a massive twat, upon hearing that Woolies had dumped their flag merch, Peter Dutton rushed onto the airwaves to declare that Woolworths had "gone woke" (paging 4chan circa 2009) and called for the country to boycott the store, a story which Australia's media have gleefully put on loudhale for over a week now in order to drive outrage clicks.

We at this point remind you that Woolworths is a company which, as we previously mentioned, basically has a monopoly on selling food in this country. Not exactly something you can boycott.

(Another real Dutton photo break)

Needless to say Dutton's dumbass plan did not immediately put Woolies out of business, however the relentless media campaign by Rupert Murdoch's minions did result in a bunch of innocent low-wage floor staff being harrassed by The Dark Lord's fanboys and a few Woolies stores were graffitied.

Allegedly being the 'free market' guy, Dutton also kindof snookered himself by demanding the free market not decide the fate of Australia day, but logic was never one of his strong suits.

Anyway, in the end we're just going to keep having this dumb circular argument every year, fulled by a media who love fanning the flames, until a politician has the guts to shift the date to May 8 (pronounced m8), and everyone promptly forgets this was ever a thing.

All in all, that's the long and the short of it. As a final touch we'll leave you with this real tweet by Opposition Leader Peter Dutton, in all its batshit glory.

We look forward to the absolute dumpster fire of comments this post is going to generate - as is the Australia Day tradition.

#australia #auspol #batshit

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oh-no-its-bird · 22 days ago

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Special edition Christmas fic where genin aged team 7 decide hatch their newest plot to see Kakashi's face: using mistletoe

Because if they trap him under it with someone, he'll surely have to take his mask off to give them a kiss! ...Right?

(Sasuke thinks this is fucking stupid)

The entire thing is just a fucking slapstick comedy as Kakashi goes "what's the funniest way I can go along with this." And decides he will in fact lower his mask and give a kiss to everyone the kids corner him with. But only when they look away / blink / their view is obstructed

The kids are chasing him around with a string on a stick w mistletoe tied to the end of it, and every time they miss seeing the kiss (and his face) hey scream even louder

Reactions range from "???!?????!?!??????" (Iruka) to straight up passing out (Gai) to laughing hysterically with a bright red face (Kurenai) to just sort of freezing up like a deer in headlights (Asuma)

Kakashi, having way too much fun, makes a shadow clone to pull the Sukea thing again. And the kids get "Sukea" on board, thinking he can take a photo the second Kakashi pulls his mask down for a smooch. Kakashi has WAY too much fun, essentially role-playing with himself and swooning dramatically. Then, at the end, Sukea goes, "Oh no the camera's memory card is gone, Kakashi must have stolen it :((" and the kids all scream in agony

They try to get him to describe Kakashi's face and Sukea gets all coy and goes "umm... its kind of... indescribable?"

(They get another person to try to snap a photo of him but they turn out to be a freezer so they don't take the picture. When the kids harass them ab it they just giggle a little maniacally ab his face)

This does escalate to doing this shit w enemy nin btw. Funniest option is obviously Tobi but I'm also raising u a really freaked the fuck out Itachi looking like an angry, surprised cat after Kakashi gives him a peck on the cheek (Sasuke is gonna fucking KILL HIMSELF)

Obito gets the full makeout session bc its funniest.

He shows up looking for a dramatic fight but like halfway through his villain speech, team 7 dangles the mistletoe over him, and he's so thrown off guard he just kinda "???? excuse me I'm kind of in the middle of—"

Kakashi, who is a) in too deep to stop the bit now, and b) recognizes a good way to throw off an enemy, fucking launches himself at him, pushes Tobi's mask up just enough to kiss, and starts to make out w him

His back is turned to the kids and they're all scrambling to try to catch a single glimpse, but he keeps his back to them as they scream and run around (thus prolonging the kiss)

Kakashi is totally checked out of the actual kiss, this is all fun and games to him. Obito is having a fucking religious experience wrapped in a manic episode flavored internal breakdown topped off with a very loud high pitched kettle noise that may or may not be confined to his brain

This lasts for like a solid minute before Kakashi releases him and readjust his mask, pats him on the shoulder and goes "sorry about that teehee"

Obito just kinda 🧍‍♀️ and they stare at eachother for another solid minute as team 7 screams and cries and throws up in the bg

Kakashi, seeing the opportunity to leave and avoid what was for sure going to be a potentially devistating fight: "cool. So, anyways. Bye lmao." And runs for it w his students

Obito is left tanding still as a statue in the middle of the clearing. After like 20 seconds alone he starts hyperventilating.

Merry Christmas everybody 👍

#this is stupid but stupid is my favorite genre #kakashi hatake #hatake kakashi #birds fic talk #obkk #kkob #kakairu #team 7 #naruto #obikaka #kakaobi #kakagai #obito uchiha #uchiha obito

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filipinoizukuu · 5 months ago

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i headcanon that sakura is like... one of those few people with immense control over their body to the point where its kinda scary.

he says all the time to anyone mentioning it that he's good for nothing but his fists and fighting, but i really believe that he's the kind of guy where like... anything he tries to do, he can get good at it and pick it up REALLY quickly. he's an incredibly fast learner (exhibit a, the pre-noroshi training arc) and also has really good control over his physicality (exhibit b, his signature move where he turns a fall into a handstand kick).

the boys in class 1-1 constantly get him to play games and sports with them because of bonding reasons, and sakura always gets uneasy because he never had anyone to play with growing up. so they all kinda have to teach him every sport except it backfires because he always gets CRAZY GOOD at them REALLY EASILY.

basketball? despite the height disadvantage, it takes less than a day for sakura to master dribbling and passes + he's crazy accurate even from the 3 point mark. volleyball? call him hinata shoyo because he has an INSANEEEE vertical for spiking. baseball? a lot of stupid rules to learn and easy to get wrong, but sakura knows his way around a bat for sure. soccer? absolutely massacres the field no survivors left. anzai is crying in the corner. kiryu (goalie) is dead.

and it pisses them off to no end because sakura has NO BUSINESS being good at all these things! its not even that he's instantly great at anything he tries, but rather because he learns INSANELY QUICKLY and can commit a movement to muscle memory within a couple of days. thank god furin doesnt have a sports festival because nirei is absolutely certain that sakura would sweep the floor with the first years and leave no crumbs.

it applies to other things too. one day sakura either stumbles upon or hangs out with shishitoren and he gets the opportunity to ask tomiyama how he did that insane flip against umemiya. hes really shy to ask bc he did go around acting as if he knew how to emulate choji's crazyass acrobatics before promptly eating shit on the asphalt. choji, obviously always wanting to have fun, teaches sakura some moves

"well it's not as easy as it looks, but i can teach you some moves. you're a good fighter already sakura-chan, so i'll give you some harder ones to start with. don't worry if you can't do—"

sakura nails it in three tries. it's probably one of the top 5 best days of chojis life because it turns into a contest of him busting out a gymnastic trick and trying to see if sakura can replicate it. shishitoren is amazed and confused. togame doesn't know whether to be amused or worried. hiragi winds up getting into their territory just to bring sakura home because if no one intervened sakura would end up joining shishitoren and becoming chojis favorite disciple. it certainly already helps that they have similar fight styles that require insane flexibility, but damn sakura isnt this a bit too much?!@?@

he's still hopeless with technology tho lol. years later and sakura is still horrible at mario kart and can't text for shit. god had to nerf him somehow!

#wind breaker #winbre #sakura haruka #i love u sakura #windbreaker #wind breaker headcanons #wbk

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novemberheart · 4 months ago

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{overview} you make a disturbing discovery while in John’s office

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, short chapter, slight angst

Chapter 23 <- Chapter 24 -> Chapter 25

While you had never been happier, a part of you was ready to return to base. You missed your friends and the routine that came along with it. You wouldn't miss your pack being sent to the odds and ends of the world, but you knew they were more than capable.

You and the betas drove back to base, while the alphas flew. Vernie didn't have all her shots to be able to fly. Luckily, the betas would never turn down a road trip.

“This is your new home,” you cheered softly. The familiar smell of the flat tickling your brain. The puppy decided to take great interest in the cords near the TV.

“Gonna have to puppy-proof,” Simon huffed, grabbing the squirming creature off the floor. You expected him to pass her to you, instead, he sat down on the couch placing her in his lap. You cleaned up around your room, dusting things and finishing the loads of laundry from vacation. “You’re happy,” Simon stated, looking over his shoulder at you.

“It’s nice to be back. Not going to be happy about any of you leaving though,” You mumbled the last part, flopping down on the couch next to him. Vernie crawled over to you.

“I’d hope not,” Simon grunted, causing you to roll your eyes.

There was hardly a day to get back into the swing of things. The boys being pulled for trainings and meetings. You quickly regretted saying you were happy to be back.

“Five more minutes,” you whined, Kyle’s phone alarm lighting up the room. The sun hadn't even started to come up yet.

“Alright,” Kyle agreed quickly. He put his phone on snooze, worming back under the covers with you. You both jolted awake ten minutes later to pounding at the door. “Fuck,” Kyle cursed stumbling out of bed. You giggled, the door opening to reveal a pissed-off John.

“How the hell are you supposed to train others when you can't even manage yourself?” He snapped. He pushed his way into the room, bumping into Kyle who was changing into his uniform. He bent down pressing a kiss against your cheek. “Good morning, pretty girl,” his voice was startlingly different- yet you had gotten used to that. You wrapped your arms around his neck, making sure to rub as much of your scent on him as you could.

“Good morning, alpha.”

In John’s eyes you were too sultry for your own good. “I’ll come back and get you for lunch,” he pressed another kiss against you, grabbing Kyle by the scruff, knowing if the beta had the opportunity to kiss you goodbye he would never get to training.

“God, I missed you!” Anais grinned wickedly, wrapping her arms tightly around you. Even Jane seemed happy to see you. Anais had signed all three of you up for badminton, which ended with all of you trying to get the badminton birdie out of Vernie’s mouth.

Regardless, it was fun.

“I’m hungry,” Anais sighed, even as she chewed on her bag of trail mix. “Lunch?” She questioned eyeing both of you.

“I can't. I have lunch with my alpha,” You explained stretching out on the grass.

“Oh, that's right. It’s Wednesday,” she sighed. “Need us to drop you off before we head out?” She asked, moving to a stand.

“That would be great,” you perked up. Vernie was exhausted at this point- not being the most high-energy pup in the first place. “Hey, they are having a movie night in the park Friday. We should do that,” You suggested, causing Anais to light up.

“Just as long as it’s not a scary movie this time,” Jane huffed, making the two of you chuckle. They dropped you off outside the office building, and you made quick work getting to John’s office. You couldn't be caught hanging around by yourself. You knocked at the door not hearing a response. You tugged out your key card, waiting for the small light to flicker green.

“This is John’s office,” you explained to Vernie. Even though she couldn't hear you, you could tell she liked it when you talked to her. You locked the door behind you, setting the pup down on the floor, making yourself at home on the leather couch. John’s office was classically handsome just like him. Well as nice as it could be with what he had to work with. You pulled out your phone, shooting him a text of your whereabouts. Vernie digging in the trash can caught your attention.

“Out of there Vern,” you scolded gently, grabbing her around her middle. She had a folder in her mouth she just wouldn't let go. “Vernie,” you chided again, pulling it out of her jaws as much as you could without hurting her. You finally succeeded, ready to throw it back into the trash when the label caught your eye.

OHH

You knew what that stood for. Omega Holding House. A wave of uneasiness crashed over you. You shook yourself out of your thoughts. It was probably just leftover paperwork from you. You tossed it back in the trash standing back on your feet, bringing you and Vernie back to the couch.

You couldn't relax. Those three letters remained even when you closed your eyes- taunting you. You stood up slowly, creeping back by the trash can, and pulling the folder back out. You pursed your lips trying to manage your breathing. You placed it on his desk, opening it like something would jump out at you.

Something did. A cover letter, typed and signed by Kate Laswell.

Possible Omegas for Task Force 141

It had been typed in bold, obnoxiously large letters like it was the greatest achievement one could have. ‘Possible’ the words pounded in your head repeatedly making it throb. You flipped to the next page. It was a profile of an omega, the first thing that caught your eye was the large red X through it. Must be John's writing. You flipped to the next page. Another profile- another X through it. You weren't quite sure why they had got rejected. Nothing in their biography seemed like a red flag and they were all pretty. The next page- another X.

You whined when you flipped to your page. The large red X staring up at you. It was rejection to the highest degree. Kate had even wrote a special note on yours.

Pay close attention to this one. She's a good girl.

John had written a note himself, addressing Laswell.

Not happening

You knew he probably didn't mean you specifically, and that he was referring to having an omega as a whole, but it hurt. The type of pain that made you sink to the floor. They type of pain that made your lungs feel like they were collapsing. The type of pain that comes from falling in love with someone only to have them shut the door in your face.

You flipped to the next page because what did you have to lose?

A lot apparently.

There was no red X. There was no marking on the page at all. You flipped to the next page- the last page- a red X. It was just her page without an X.

She was the one he had wanted. Who knows? Maybe all of them wanted her. You could practically see them in this office digging through each paper, judging every imperfection on each profile- including yours. She had no imperfections. She was beautiful, purebred, and came from a long line of military alphas. She was the shining star of her omega-holding house. Never once getting in trouble, always being an active participant, showing signs of being a strong, traditional omega, and her heat cycles were always regular. The opposite of you in nearly every way. The more you read the more hurt you got. You closed the file, trying to calm your sobs enough so you didn't pass out. Vernie was at your feet pawing up your ankle. You scooped her up into your arms, making your way back home.

People stared at you. You could only imagine the rumors. You were undoubtedly the most dramatic omega on base- at least the one that caused the most trouble. Your tears made people stay away from you and you were able to get all the way home without a hitch. You shut your bedroom door, throwing yourself on your bed sobbing. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest. You regretted everything. You regretted agreeing to come here, you regretted warming up to each of them so quickly, you regretted sleeping with John.

John.

The name made you sob harder.

It wasn’t fair.

Would you ever be someone's first choice?

I hated writing thisssssssss😩but we can't live in peace for too long! See you in two days for Chapter 25!!!

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princessbrunette · 5 months ago

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stepbro!johnb knew it was wrong. god, he knew it was demented, and sick — but he couldn’t stop. he was pent up.

things had been kind of a mess lately, and despite popular believe, no — finding and hunting treasure was not all sunshine and rainbows. it was a lot of dead ends, a lot of waste bins filled with screwed up paper covered in ideas and plots that were going nowhere. sometimes you had a piece of paper, a pen, a map and a dream — and that was it.

john b could have sworn he saw you scribbling away during a plotting session in this specific pink paperback journal. it looked like any other notebook you’d use to jot down everyone’s ideas. you weren’t too good at the whole treasure hunting thing yourself but you were eager and had the right spirit so the pogues could often rely on you to scribble down anything important they might say during these sessions in which they’d bounce off eachother. this was why john b picked the book up and opened it in the first place.

once he started reading, even past realising that this was infact your diary — he just couldn’t stop.

“oh, uh…” he coughs awkwardly to an empty house when he flips it open and finds his own name in pink glitter pen, hearts and swirls galore. you hadn’t exactly been subtle about your attractions towards your older step brother— never missing an opportunity to bat your lashes up at him, touch his chest whilst you’re talking to him, even find a way to sit on his leg when there was just no other room — but for the most part he assumed you were just teasing in your own cruel way. passing the time, so to speak. he wasn’t expecting this.

his eyes continue to flit from word to word, each more graphic than the last until he’s stumbling across full descriptions, day to day on what you’d do to him, moreso what you’d let him do to you.

‘john b was so frustrated today. he needs me, i know he does. he has that look in his eye! that super frustrated one that looks all tired and irritated and unlike himself. he’s usually so warm and comforting but today he looked like he was gonna snap. i thought he might finally march over and bend me over… a girl can dream i guess :( when i finallyyyyy got some alone time i spent it grinding against my pillow, wanting him to come in and catch me. i wonder if he heard the bed moving… if he hears me moaning… i don’t wanna be a virgin anymore, need john b to come and break me in :( ♡’

the more he reads, the harder he gets against his shorts— sighing out his nose, blinking in discomfort as he adjusts himself. he looks around, knowing you were at the beach with kiara but still feeling paranoid. it’s one thing to have such dirty thoughts about your step-brother, but atleast they were private. john b gets caught reading them? he’s the bad guy.

he tells himself it’s not you doing this to him. it was simply his anatomy betraying him. he couldn’t help how his body reacts.

he feels dirty when the tip of his cock grazes the pages, now sat on the edge of your bed like he could jump up at any minute given the sound of the front door closing. he’s turned the page, landing on a particular fantasy that had his hand moving and cock leaking before he could dare to question the morality of it all.

‘john b looked so good today :( i love when he bosses me around all big brother like ♡ he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, it’s like second nature for him to look after me. wanted to sit between his legs and make out with his dick :( i bet it’s so pretty and i know it’s big cos sometimes he doesn’t wear boxers under his pants and i see it swinging it around. wanna suckle on it whilst he tells me im a good girl like he did that one time when i was sad. his voice just gets me so wet, can’t stop humping everything n rubbing my clit whenever he leaves the room. i’m like an animal and im not even ashamed anymore. i need him :(’

the brunette groans as he squeezes his eyes shut, fisting and twisting the way he imagines your smaller hand to— inexperienced yet with a feverish hunger to please and a vast knowledge of sex which he could only imagine was learnt through word of mouth and porn. god, the thought of his sweet little step sister sprawled on her back, legs splayed open — pawing at her glossy cunt as she scrolls to find the perfect porn video. it was enough to send john b mad.

he wondered if you tried to find pornstars that looked like him, or if you just used your imagination for that part. john b liked to think himself a humble man, but in the throes of his passion he couldn’t help but accept the warm embrace of the ego trip the thought gave him.

“oh fuck, so wrong — so fucking wrong—” he strains, feeling that burning hot twisting in his stomach as that familiar feeling overcomes him. he clearly hadn’t thought this through, before when he opens his eyes once more — he’s covered your delicately decorated page containing your fantasies with his white hot sticky syrup. “ohhhh god. oh no.” he hums, eyes widening slightly.

yet there was no time to act— for as soon as he’d realised, he could hear the jangling of your keys and your familiar giggles as you lead your new-ish friend into the chateau, probably moments away from singing out his name, wondering if he’s home. he slams the book shut and he’s sure it oozes from the edges of the page— stuffs it back beneath the pile of clothes on your chair where he found it and makes quick work of tucking his deflating cock back into his pants.

john b fears he might be in big trouble.

#div by qqmariztwsse #nympho!virgin!reader #stepbro!johnb #tw stepcest #tw fauxcest #if u squint ig

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chrissturnsfav · 29 days ago

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✘✪𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 . . . 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘳!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵

࿐loser!matt is an alternative/r&b music enthusiast. cigarette smoker. lives in la with his brothers—nick and chris. a typically shy, quiet, reserved person. spends most of his time with nick and chris, playing video games, or listening to music. hates going out—would rather just drink or smoke at the house with his brothers, maybe a few friends as well. loves radiohead, the neighborhood, mac miller, and the beatles. cold on the outside, loverboy on the inside. matt wasn't particularly looking for any girls to talk to, especially not someone so different from himself, but your contrasting personalities sparked something in him.

✧₊⁺𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨 . . . 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

࿐fuckgirl!reader is a total party girl. never passes up the opportunity to go out with her friends for a number of reasons—meeting cute guys, getting drunk, dancing, she'll do it all. ayesha erotica, sabrina carpenter, ke$ha, tate mcrae. very confident, sassy, bubbly, loud, flirty, sometimes bitchy. los angeles tumblr girl. always stands up for her friends. the type of girl who you meet in the bathroom at a club and become best friends with. easily gets whoever she wants. strawberry ice vapes. house music. fuckgirl!reader was deeply intrigiued when she met loser!matt—you've never met someone so quiet and amusingly boring. you knew you had to have him.

the music pulses through the house, a bass-heavy rhythm that you can feel vibrating in your chest. laughter and voices mix with the beat, a chaotic symphony of a saturday night party. the air is thick with the scent of perfume, spilled drinks, and the faintest hint of weed.

you’re at the center of it all, like always. your friends hang on your every word, their giggles rising like bubbles in a soda as you recount some outrageous story that’s half true and half too good to believe.

you take a sip of your drink—something sweet and strong—and let your gaze wander lazily over the crowd. you know almost everyone here, and they all know you. the thrill of attention is comforting, warm and familiar, and it boosts your ego. but then, your eyes catch on someone unfamiliar.

he’s leaning against the wall, partially hidden in the shadow of a flickering neon sign. a plaid shirt, worn jeans, and a beer bottle held loosely in one hand.

he’s quiet, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of caution and curiosity. his lips curl into a faint, almost invisible smile when he watches someone stumble over a poorly executed dance move. he’s not part of the chaos, not like you are. he’s observing, separate and untouchable.

very intriguing.

you tilt your head and narrow your eyes, studying him for a moment longer. he doesn’t fit here—not with the sweaty, writhing crowd or the boisterous laughter spilling over from a nearby beer pong table. it's enough to make you curious.

without thinking twice, you excuse yourself from your friends with a playful wave and weave through the crowd, your hips swaying just enough to part the sea of drunken bodies. the floor sticks faintly under your heels as you approach him, and you feel his eyes flicker to you before quickly darting back to his beer.

"hey," you smirk, letting the word slide out like it’s dipped in honey. you lean casually against the wall next to him, your shoulder almost brushing his but not quite. "never seen you before," you snicker, sipping your drink.

his lips quirk up slightly, but he doesn’t look at you. not directly. "'cause i don't go out," he shrugs.

"yeah, clearly," you laugh, loud enough to drown out the rest of the room. "you don't seem to fit in, no offense at all by the way."

"you're right," he mumbles, looking toward the group of people dancing like idiots and shakes his head.

you raise an eyebrow, amused. "so why are you here then?"

the boy shrugs, taking a sip of his beer, "came with my brothers."

you smirk curiously, leaning a bit closer to him against the wall as you speak with a hint of seductiveness, "yeah? who's your brothers?"

he notices your closeness, snickering a bit under his breath responding nonchalantly, "chris and nick."

you tilt your head to the side, your lips parting as the image of nick and chris pop into your head. you know of them, knowing that they're triplets, but you had never seen the third one around before. "so you're the third triplet?"

the boy nods, but it’s not with any pride or enthusiasm. it’s more like he’s trying to explain away his awkwardness, or maybe even justify why you've never seen him before. '"yeah," he mutters, taking another sip of his beer like it’ll help him escape the conversation.

"i see," you say with a smirk, drawing the words out slow. "so you’re just the quiet one?"

he looks at you for the first time in the conversation, the corner of his mouth twitching like he might smile, but he doesn’t. instead, he shrugs. "something like that. they’re more the… social type. m'not really big on crowds."

"what's your name baby?" you quip flirtatiously, keeping the charming smirk on your face.

he doesn't seem amused by the pet name, almost like he expected you to say something like that. "matt," he mutters, taking another sip of his beer.

there's a small, nagging frustration creeping in—something you’re not used to feeling. normally, guys are falling over themselves just to talk to you, to get a little attention. but matt? he’s too cool, too calm, almost like you’re just another part of the background noise to him.

but then there’s that flicker in his eyes—just enough to make your heart race. he’s not falling for your usual moves, but you can see it now: there’s something more beneath that nonchalant, cool exterior. a curiosity, maybe even a hint of interest. it’s not the usual eager gaze you’re used to, but there's something almost…enticing about the way he’s not giving it to you.

it sparks something else inside you. something deeper. maybe it's the challenge. maybe it’s the way he doesn’t need you to flatter his ego to get your attention. whatever it is, it’s stirring something inside you, something that makes you want him even more.

when you tell matt your name, keeping up your suggestive tone, he scoffs, shaking his head with a smirk as his eyes flit from the crowd to your face, "i know."

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: i LOVE this pairing so much! if you guys have any requests or questions about these two, definitely send them in my inbox because i can't wait to write more about them. also, i know the poll voted for fratboy!matt x confident!reader, don't worry, i haven't forgot about them! i'm going to post the introduction to those two as soon as i finish it.

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

#ᰔᩚ loser!matt x fuckgirl!reader #chrissturnsfav ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader

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theoccultz · 6 months ago

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How do they really see you ?

Req.

Minors dni (18+ mention's )

General reading, take what resonates , leave what doesn't

Pics and dividers not mine , credits to their rightful owners

Thank you for all the reblogs , likes and comments i appreciate it 🖤

See ya at your pile !!

Pile l . Pile ll. Pile lll.

Pile 1 .

Queen of wands , 8ofpentacles, 4ofpentacles

Hyena

They see you as helpful and relient you will pass the opportunity if you feel like others need it more ,you guys are good at guiding others you may be a teacher or you're just that friend who is able to decode easily you can read faces like a book you guys look well put together you may know what suits you and what doesn't very well . They think you get a lot of attention although you look interested in what others have to say , your mind wonders somewhere else you may have r-b-f so its hard to read to read your expressions , you're professional in a sense . you look relaxed most of the time they may see you working a lot you always seem to be focused on something, they think others bother you ,people want to talk to you but they dont respect your boundaries and they kinda feel you get annoyed when someone is interrupting you in your day to day life , they thought you were arrogant when they first met you but they've gotten used to your rbf ,they understand it was them projecting.

They think you love food and you take care of your health, they think you have good hygiene, you may style your hair or they like your hair , you respect others space ,if you say No others wouldn't force you because there's this sternness in your voice , they think you're closed off though you may interact with others you kind of hate spending too much time with others , they love whatever language you can speak i'm picking up on an accent here , they think you have a graceful presence like say there's a meeting or a party you have dressed up exactly how the dress code expect you to be , they think you are a minimalist . You are not that person who sings like they own the party there's something very ethical and well mannered.You seem to do your own thing i dont think you need help in almost anything, you can figure out things for yourself this person seems to be impressed with your qualities or persona because they're somewhat like this too and they think its a rare quality to have . They think you're more head than heart /intellectual maybe ? They dont like to think of themselves as helpless and you exactly seem to replicate that , they think people are fake these days and would stab you without a second thought , this person is not like this they are loyal until they die , either you are this gossip bee just trying to be someone you're not LMAO this person has seen you turn down others it was satisfactory, there's a lot of gossip bess here hmmm , anyway they think you dont give a shit ☠️✋🏼 although its risky and you have to give in to social pressure but you just mind your own business even though you know about the disadvantages . Yeah

They think you shouldn't be disturbed for some reason , not like you're a wild person who'll start yelling at them but they just see you enjoying your presence and being relaxed?they dont think you get excited about a lot of things like you're very Sophisticated, you dont play games . I dont know if you speak to this person but this person is down bad for your voice ,for your vocabulary like what ...???they think you're kind of cutthroat that you can hurt them with your words if they mess with you ,thry think you have anger issues but they like it 😭a bad bitch with anger issues ? yes sir ....they may have seen you lash out and they think its for everyone's good you are silent fff this person was turned on .

They think you're very sweet & cute although no one would agree with them , they seem to look for you when you're not there like they randomly start to think about you , they kinda miss you when you're not around, this person unknowingly observes you i'm seeing a vision of someone working and the other person is like 👁️👄👁️ , this person is atrracted to your essence they're addicted to your mannerisms idk who is this ...could be a boss , a friend, but they really admire you , this person is a powerful person themselves, they share a good connections with others, they're more good at understanding & convincing others than you . They think how you're are a free thinker , you love to learn about things , you guys are great advice givers ,you guys are very open and direct to the point it intimidates them , you look youthful and dress creative you have energetic boundaries they wouldn't wanna touch , you guys carry individualistic quality,you dont get easily influence by societal norms , you're not gonna follow everything the world puts out , you use your own guidance.This is someone who has gained interest in you after a long time , you may knew each other or knew of each other but you didn't really care at first , i see even if this is a platonic connection the feelings are developing, this person finds you really beautiful physically and wants to be closer but they themselves is a little aloof and doent like to get attach to anyone ,they're everyone's friend but who is actually "their" friend? This person seems be a professional, they are mindful and careful unlike pile 3's person , this person do not wear this heart on their sleeve , they are over prorective of themselves, this person is still on that stage of getting to know you , like they think a LOTT.

Song : damn is this an ex?

Thanks for reading !!

Pile ll.

Ace of pentacles, king of swords , the high priestess

Black swan

They see you as someone who'll be victorious wherever you are , you have a likeable personality and a charming aura that really draws others to you, they love your company, they love your smile the most, they love your hair , your lips , your dressing sense , your piercings, they think you ALWAYS look fabulous, they think you're a breathe of fresh air ,you light up their world , they're very grateful to have you in their life , they love to talk to you and they really look forward too .They kind of put you on a pedestal, this person really see "you" the crazy you , the childish you , the sweet you, the angry you and they love everything version of you 😭they think people are really lucky to have you , they think you have a healing presence , they see you as someone that needs to be protected you're just so kind , generous and welcoming ...they feel jealous that your energy is put there , they love your personality they love to spend time with you or they want too , you could be an introvert and they are like an open book .

This person is telling me that they feel accepted in your presence , they love your music taste, you feel s if you're their lost missing piece , your interets ate very similar,they think their inner child really flourish in your presence, i'm getting this .....when i'm with them all of my worries are taken by god kinda vibe ....they think you keep your issues to yourself and that you need to release and let go they want to help you in the process of it , you have a positive effect pn people,they think there are some people in your life who troubles you and they fucking hate that, they think you are photogenic, they love your hair , they think you're really fun to be around, you bring a lot to the table , they wanna heal & grow with you even if you lose contact someday they'll remember you as if you're there to celebrate every best thing that happened in their life , this person kind of feel pressured to do more because they see you doing so much , they're insecure and sad about something and nobody knows it and there isn't a lot of thing's that gets them excited or bring joy but you do , you may travel together, study together, you may know their family, they could be your cousin , they could be someone you have a crush on .

If this is someone not platonic & the feelings are Mutual , you should find out and openly give them hints . They think their efforts are ignored sometimes like they're that friend who do the most and they get ignored, they want to ignore you but they cant , there are some thing they dont communicate because they dont want to ruin this relationship but they really dont like others interference in your connection ,they think you ignore them when you have others company

Alright k thats it (: looking back at your reading, they seem to be someone you have helped in some way and that's why they like you so much because that was something really heavy weigh-in them down ,you helped them unknowingly or knowingly , they also seem conglict free and likeable but they dont like a lot of people thats the issue .

Your song: i love when the song matches the vibe of the reading .

Thanks for reading!!

Pile lll.

Death, the devil , the world rx

Bee

Well what do i say , the cards speak for itself + i dont get any different vibe from the original interpretation of cards

Alright let's start this is about to be confusing......this person finds you attractive, they think about you obsessively and they dont want you to know , you're a though that cross their mind and stays there forever, this is someone who is sexually attracted to you or they admire your body , they kinda have wild assumptions so stick with me ,i'm not getting toxic vibe rather a really enamoured one ,they think you are more sexually experienced than them , they compare themselves to you a lot , they think you'd up for fwb without emotional connection, this person thinks of you as a mystery they want to know "Everything" about you , you intrigue them , wouldn't be surprised if they stalk you online , this person try to hide so much its Insane , they dont want to let you know that they are interested in you they feel as though you will avoid them or you will make fun of them ? They could annoy you on purpose, this person is a little annoyed themselves, they feel stuck and they want to take action , they cant just keep fantasizing about whats not real . They want to be friends with you .

This person wants to be involved in your life and be there for " you" , they think you guys are compatible although they are more sociable than you , I'm feeling surprised because they seem to be wayy invested than they think they would be , they would analyse your mood and wonder about it , they think you dont pay much attention to them like heck you dont even seem to know them that well even though you may have known them longer than they think , this person's energy is straight up hopeless i think this is someone who gets a lot of attention and praise , they seem to have it all , they could be in a authoritive position in life , like they could own libraries or they are the big sister /brother of the family or their friends rely on them for support, they have this natural ability to make others feel secure , they are helpful and sweet , they dont like drama and they are big on action and manifestations , they are also very stubborn and wants things their way , they could fit in to societal expectations but they feel as though they put up a front and pretend to be someone else , they get drained easily and they seem to like books especially mystery books , they like to have their own space they could own a bigg ass house as well , they seem to work a lot like they're damnn busyy in their life but they still like to check up on you its their daily routine, this person has had a lot of hope from the very beginning, they kind of accepted they liked you, this person is possesive asf , it ticks them off its their insecurity. How would you recognise this person? Others see them as a fun but a disciplined person , They are the well liked cool person in their community and they are intelligent with their words , they have attractive eyes and they wear lighter colours , they are their neighbours favourite, they also dont seem very fashionable, they stick to formals and basic . Yeah , this person also think you are imaginative and artistic and they want to like your interests so bad to connect deeper with you and to make themselves familiar , they could have water placements specially pisces , i feel like they may look tough and big but as a child ??? they were just everyone's little troublemaker but also a sweetheart awwww this is so cute . Their friend circle is influential tho , they are judgemental as well hmm interesting. This could be an online connection but it doesn't have to be , you guys just don't interact that much although both of you are intrigued, this person could have a controversial past lol ,its just something about their eyes they seem like a deep thinker although they may not look like one , this person reminds me of suga from bts , you know how he's so tough on the outside like he doesn't care but he's so aware & invested about his friendsdislikes & likes , he knows them better than they think he does

ahhhh anyways this was heavy .

Your song : see i told you

Thanks for reading!!

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #free readings #intuitive reading #spirituality #vd

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lilsmv1 · 9 months ago

Text

orange cat - OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?

Word count: 1k

London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.

For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.

At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."

Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.

But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.

Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."

I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.

"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.

"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.

From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.

As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.

Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.

But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.

One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.

A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.

Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.

One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.

"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

"I'm not" I replied defensively.

"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.

I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.

"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."

For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.

"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed

"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.

"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."

"Oh..."

"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.

And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.

#oscar piastri #op81 #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff

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sleepyjuice · 7 months ago

Note

28 + 45 w jj ofc

summary: jj picks you up from a girls night!

warnings: drinking, vomiting due to drinking (it’s barely described and not detailed!) jj once again being an absolute dream<3

All bets were off when it came to a good old classic girls night.

It had been far too long since you, Sarah and Kie had a night to yourselves without the boys. But for once, the boys had plans for the night, so the three of you took this opportunity and ran with it.

You had met at Sarah’s, as she somehow had the house to herself for the weekend, which also meant unlimited access to Ward’s in home bar.

You could barely even remember what you were drinking after a while, all of you completely wasted just a few hours into the night.

Kiara had passed out on Sarah’s bed, out for the night, and Sarah was texting John b to come back early so he could stay the night with her.

About a half hour later, you heard the doorknob to Sarah’s bedroom rattling, causing the two of you to gasp and grab onto one another, both of you positive there was an intruder breaking in to kill all of you. Kiara wasn’t phased, still sound asleep, and you envied the fact that she would go semi peacefully, while you and Sarah fought for your lives.

“Oh my god, Sarah, we’re gonna fucking die!” You whisper yelled, Sarah’s fearful eyes meeting your own as you clutched onto each other for dear life from your spot on the floor.

You both screamed when the door opened, hiding your faces against one another as you prepared for the worst, and you damn near jumped out of your skin when you felt a hand on your shoulder, leading you to cautiously peak your eyes up.

“jj! What the fuck?” You gasped, your heart still racing, but you soon giggled at the sight of your boyfriend’s shocked expression, looking beside him to see John b sharing the same look of shock and confusion.

“What the fuck, me? Y’all just screamed bloody murder for no reason. John b just texted Sarah that we were here and she texted him back and said to come up. Literally like two minutes ago.” jj explained, now noticing all of the empty bottles and glasses scattered across Sarah’s desk. He certainly found the humor in this situation, but he was just confused.

Your eyes widened at his explanation, turning to Sarah, both of you immediately giggling loudly.

“Oops!” She laughed, reaching up for John b’s hand so she could stand up.

“Glad you ladies had a good night,” John b spoke, his hand around Sarah’s waist as he held her up, “Kie still with us?” He asked, glancing over at the sleeping figure at the bed.

“Mhm, she knocked out a little bit ago. She smoked a little, too, so she got sleepy.” Sarah responded, leaning into her boyfriend.

“Alright, let’s get you home, baby.” jj spoke as he helped you to your feet, his hands fixing your shorts that had ridden up from sitting for so long.

“John b, you staying the night here with Sarah?” jj asked, the brunette nodding in response as he worked to keep Sarah upright as she swayed.

“Yeah, I’m gonna take her into the guest room so she can sleep. She’s fallin’ asleep in my arms.” John b responded, sarah giggling sleepily as he led her out of her bedroom.

“John b! Make sure you take her makeup off ‘fore she sleeps, ‘kay?” You quickly reminded your friend, giggling once again as you leaned back into jj’s arms that were wrapped firmly around your waist, holding you in place.

“Copy that. Night guys. jj, take the Twinkie and just pick me back up sometime tomorrow.” John b stated, tossing the keys to jj as they made their way to the guest bedroom.

jj gave a little salute to his friend as they walked away, turning you to face him now, smiling lovingly down at your flushed face.

“You get into a lot of trouble without me, hm?” He grinned, patting your ass gently as you gushed up at him.

“Maybee…” you hummed, leaning up to plant a little kiss against your boyfriend’s lips, unable to stop smiling. You had a good night with your friends, and now you got to go home with your boyfriend. Life couldn’t get any better at the moment.

“Yeah, you do,” he laughed, “let’s grab your stuff so we can get back to the chateau and get your little ass to bed.” he instructed, dropping his hold on your waist to grab your shoes that were discarded on the floor a few feet away.

He looked at you, and you gave him a look, which he knew all too well. Shaking his head, jj kneeled down to slip your shoes on your feet, unable to hide his little smirk at your behavior.

“Got me doin’ all the work here.” He teased as you smiled satisfactorily, your heart swelling at your boyfriend’s sweet actions. He was so good to you.

“Alright, you bring anything else?” He asked, glancing over at your purse sat on a chair across the room, stepping over to grab it.

You shook your head at his question, expecting him to hand you your purse, but instead he put it over his shoulder, causing you to giggle giddily.

“You look so cute!” You gushed at your boyfriend, wishing your phone wasn’t in said purse so you could take a picture.

“Yeah, I know, let’s get going, baby. Say bye to Kie.” He rolled his eyes, walking over to stand in the doorway as you gave Kiara a little kiss on her forehead, seeing as she was still sound asleep.

You followed over to jj, watching as he quietly shut the bedroom door behind him as you made your way down to hall and to the top of the long and winding staircase, stopping at the top as jj went down the first few steps.

He turned to look back at you when he realized you weren’t right behind him, immediately recognizing the look in your eyes.

“Baby-“

“Can you carry me?” You asked before he could finish speaking, swaying slightly as you were dizzy and the length of the staircase below you was rather intimidating in your current state.

jj sighed dramatically, but not in annoyance. He loved how soft and clingy you got when you were drunk. It honestly wasn’t too different from how you normally were, but your behavior was endearing to him and he felt happy to be not only wanted, but needed. Even if it was something as small as carrying you when you were drunk and didn’t want to walk.

You couldn’t hold back your smile as jj made his way back up the top few steps, positioning his arms below you and swooping you up so he was carrying you bridal style.

“Thank you, jay.” You hummed in appreciation, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head into the crook of his neck as he carried you down the long staircase.

Once at the bottom, he managed to keep you held up with one hand as he pulled the front door open, stepping outside and pulling it shut before repositioning his other hand to hold you properly again.

You sighed at the feeling of the fresh air hitting your skin. The slight breeze felt like heaven against your flushed cheeks and the sound of the not so distant waves hitting the shore was nothing short of soothing.

“Glad you had fun tonight, baby.” jj murmured as he walked through the large front yard towards the Twinkie, setting you down to open the passengers side door for you to get in.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the sudden shift from being held in the air to standing up straight had your vision spinning and your stomach turning.

“Ughhhh…” you grumbled, no stranger to what was about to come.

jj read your expression immediately, recognizing your sudden shift. He acted fast, pulling your purse off his shoulder and setting it on the hood of the Twinkie before moving behind you to pull your hair back as you knelt down over the grass that surrounded the long driveway, his other hand holding your waist steady so you didn’t fall as you began to empty your stomach into the grass. Sorry Sarah.

You threw up quite a bit, coughing loudly once you were finished as you worked to get some air back in your burning lungs. jj’s hand patted gently at your back, cooing soft words in your ear as you recovered.

“It’s okay, I got you.” He spoke softly, sitting down on the pavement and gently pulling you down to sit between his legs and lean back against his chest, wanting to give you a minute to recover before getting in a moving vehicle.

You sighed as you leaned back into jj, the air slowly filling your lungs again, closing your eyes as you let the cool breeze help cool you down as you recovered.

“I love you, jj, so much.” You spoke quietly after a moment, turning your head behind you to meet your boyfriend’s gaze. His soft skin looked beautiful under the moonlight, his blue eyes looking nothing short of iridescent as they met yours, his soft pink lips tugging up into a grin before kissing the top of your head several times.

“Mm, I love you, too, baby.” He spoke into your hair before resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Let’s sit here a few more minutes and then let’s get you home. Gotta get my girl to bed.”

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x you

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randomdragonfires · 10 months ago

Text

Pieces of a Woman | One Shot

Text Divider by @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY | Even when his life takes a turn for the worse, Aemond Targaryen endures.

WARNINGS | 18+; Canon Divergence AU; Smut; Insanity; B&C; Gore; Delusions; Miscarriage; Yearning; ANGST

WORD COUNT | 7.2k

A/N | This is my personal favourite out of all the stories I've ever written, reposted with a new header and all that fun stuff! Beta read by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs ❤️

They say madness is a slow disease, and that nobody truly knows when it begins.

They were wrong. Aemond Targaryen knew very well the exact moment the madness had sunk its claws into his wife. He had watched as her once bright and hopeful eyes became empty and devoid of emotion. He had watched as she was pulled into the darkness completely, becoming a shell of the woman she once was.

As much as he wished he could turn back time, he had accepted his fate. He accepted that he would never have his wife back. He would never hold her in his arms again and never get to lay his head on her lap as she embroidered. She would never read to him in her mellifluous voice ever again, despite the fact that he would give everything he had to have her with him once more.

What good was all this power and wealth, if he could not protect his own family? What good was his title as Prince Regent, if he did not have her to stand by his side? If he could not protect his little boy?

His hair, once braided to the side by her deft and nimble fingers with love, remained uncared for, left loose in all its glory. Training his one dark-rimmed, tired eye at the crypt that held the ashes of his heir, Aemond Targaryen let the sadness take him - for when his son’s life was brutally snuffed out, his wife’s very soul had been too.

There was nobody to blame for it all apart from himself.

Ever since their wedding, she had been a steady and calm presence in his life. She was the quiet to his rage, the water to his fire. He had always been a sullen and lonely child that harbored resentment for those who had wronged him, but he felt his heart steadily calm down with every moment he spent in her presence.

It wasn't until he met her that he realized he was lacking love and consideration, both of which he believed had never received before - not like this. She gave him an opportunity to be a better man; one that he took eagerly with both arms.

In return, he was a respectful husband who did his very best. He wasn’t adept at great gestures of love, but he always made sure that his wife woke with a kiss to her hair and his arms enveloping her body. He wanted her to never know loneliness for as long as he lived, he would make sure of it.

For all his reading and knowledge, Aemond was not good at making his appreciation known verbally. Instead, he would bring her huge tomes from the library so he could read to her. These books covered topics that he was passionate about, so everytime he brought one, he was offering up a part of his soul. Who better to give it to than the woman he has sworn his heart, soul and loyalty to?

He needed her. He needed her from deep in his soul, and he needed her carnally, always. She was all that was missing in his life, and now that he had her, he would always need her.

But right now, as her screams erupted through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, Aemond’s heart lurched in his chest, becoming heavier with each passing moment. The babe was arriving, and it would seem that the child was taking her for all that she was. Everytime she groaned in pain, he held onto the railing tighter than ever, as though it would make her pain go away.

They would not let him in, no. Childbirth was a woman’s fight, and the men would have to wait outside - much like the women did when the men went to battle. There was nothing he would not give to hold her hand right now; to tell her that she would be an absolutely beautiful mother, and that all she had to do was summon all her strength and emerge victorious.

As though she had heard his thoughts, her pained wails slowly died down, replaced by the first cries of a newborn. Boy or girl, the babe had an incredibly strong pair of lungs on them, their mighty cries could overshadow even the loudest of thunderstorms. The cries echoed through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, and the servants outside immediately jumped to work. A new royal babe had been born after all - there was work to be done, celebratory feasts to be organized, chambers to be prepared, nothing but the best for a Targaryen.

His mother stepped out of the chambers and laid a hand on his back in comfort. She kissed him on the cheek and smiled in congratulations. “Mother and babe are well, my son. She has made me so proud. The little one is beautiful, he would go on to achieve many great things. Just like you.”

A son. She had given him an heir to carry his bloodline. How would he ever repay her?

He walked into the chambers with speed that he did not know he possessed, his purpose made clear with each stride. The midwives and maids moved to make way for the One-Eyed Prince, and in he went.

She laid in the middle of the chambers, looking like she had braved the worst experience of her life. Her hair was askew, with sweat coating her entire body, her fatigue was palpable. Blood and waters coated the floor, and the chambers smelled like death. The bloody spots on her shift alarmed him, and it concerned him to see his usually happy and energetic wife look so thoroughly worn out. But then she smiled.

Through all her weariness from the challenges of the birthing bed, she had meekly smiled at him - and all was alright in his world again. He held her cheek in his palm and kissed her forehead, heart full from knowing that she was alright. She reached for his other hand, holding onto it like it was the last thing that kept her tethered to reality.

“Are you well, wife?”

The seemingly simple question certainly did not project the waves of concern that had plagued him outside while he waited with bated breath, but she knew. She saw it in the crinkles on his forehead and the widening of his good eye.

“I am now.”

She had braved battle, and had never looked more beautiful to him than she did now. Her voice was hoarse from all the pained screaming, and she certainly had no business being awake right now - but by the Gods, he was the happiest man in the realm.

The maids were done with wiping the blood off of the babe and had handed the boy to her. Aemond knew right then that he would have to compete for his wife’s attention from then on, for his little son had clearly stolen her heart, and his, within moments of his birth.

Her weak voice called out to him once more. “Aemond, husband… look what we made.”

He was exquisite. Aemond reached out to the babe, his son, and his son's pudgy rose finger latched onto his long, sturdy one as he continued to cry. “He has a strong grip. He shall be a storied warrior." She smiles at the possibility, and he cannot help but kiss her hand once more.

"You’ve given birth to a boy as strong as you are, wife.” He watched as she nudged her nose to the babe’s and smiled, her face glistening from sweat and tears. His newborn son’s cries got louder with each passing moment, but despite being a man of silence and solitude, Aemond had never felt more at peace.

“Thank you.”

Aemond would be the first to deny that he was a doting paragon of a husband that the bards would sing about, but he certainly was a good man who loved and respected his wife.

In the days that followed the birth of his child, he had spent every waking moment that he could spare with the pair of them. Both mother and son had the fierce One-Eyed Prince wrapped around their fingers. Between sparring sessions and battling his family’s idiosyncrasies on the daily, his little family had given him quite the reprieve, one that he was infinitely thankful for.

But now, his son is gone, and his wife is too.

“The heirs need to be kept safe. The twins, little Maelor, all three of them,” his mother said.

He may be in the middle of a war, but it was moments like these that seemed hardest to him. Aemond sat quietly by the hearth, in the very same chair where he always rested. His wife used to sit by him or at his feet as she embroidered. Now, her absence was a gaping hole each time he sat.

“Aemond…”

He turned to the sound of his grandfather calling out his name, looking cold and calculated. It did not escape Aemond that he was discussing the safety of his brother's children while he had lost his own child. The irony of it all was stark and jarring.

“Yes,” he curtly responded.

“It is in our best interests that you…” His grandfather paused midway through his words, and Aemond knew well that the man did that only when unsettling news was to follow. “...that you take a new wife. We’re in need of an alliance, and she can be sent to the motherhouse at Oldtown. She will be cared for, she will be fed-”

He saw red. “My son is dead!” The words tumbled out of Aemond’s mouth like shards of glass before he could even comprehend the gravity of his grandfather’s heavy, cutting words.

"My son’s death is on my conscience, his blood is on my hands. I did not do the deed myself, but it certainly feels like I was the one who wielded the knife that killed him.” The people had taken to calling him a kinslayer, and Aemond felt it in his bones everyday - not because of Lucerys Velaryon, but because of how his rash actions had resulted in the death of his little boy.

“My son is dead, and my wife has not been the same ever since. How do you think I can start a new family, with a new woman, when I know very well that I have caused all the grief that has driven my wife to madness? When I caused the death of my own child?”

Aemond Targaryen always made for a menacing sight, but his grandfather was not prepared for the kind of anger that his grandson had kept stored in him - for himself, his wife, and his son. They were not here, and he was angry enough for all three of them.

The Dowager Queen watched the entire conversation unfold, and she held her hand to her chest, feeling her heartbeat become frantic with each moment that she saw her son in distress. She knew how content he was in his wife's presence, and how much he loved her. To watch a child grow and fester in his own resentment - no mother should have to witness it. And yet, the Gods saw fit to give Alicent Hightower the closest view to her son's heartbreak.

“Get out,” he seethed. Otto Hightower took Aemond’s raw and angry words in stride before walking away, his head still held high.

His mother stood in front of him, held his hand and kissed him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, my boy. I’m so sorry…”

She wept until she could not, and it took everything Aemond had in him to not do the same.

When he tossed and turned in his bed in the middle of the night, he would always reach out for her.

She would always welcome his touch and curl into him, her forehead resting on the smooth planes of his chest and her warm breath making goosebumps rise on his skin. He would hold her tight until neither could ascertain where one ended and the other began, and sleep that normally eluded him would come to him faster than anything else.

Tonight, her spot on the bed is empty.

When he woke in a hurry, he noticed the crumpled sheets and the pillows left askew, the only evidence of her having retired to bed alongside him. He quickly rose from the bed and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart, wondering as to where she could have gone at this ungodly hour.

Gods, was she hurt?

He did not have to wait for the divine deities to answer, for his answer came in the form of the sweet humming sounds that he had grown to love. He followed her voice as he walked through their apartments, and it led him to the chamber where his son’s crib was kept. She was sitting next to it in her white shift, her head peeping in as she let her hands rest on the crib. She hummed softly and happily, marveling at how beautiful her little boy looked as he slept - looking much like the man she shared her bed with.

Aemond wanted to ask her to come back to bed immediately. The maesters had advised lots of rest for his wife, given the stress of the labors and the damage her body had taken. But as he watched her and his boy, he knew he couldn’t. He needed a moment to drink in the sight of his wife and son - his entire world, all in one chamber.

He held so much love in his heart for them both despite seeing them only with one eye. Perhaps he’d be able to love them more if he could see them with two.

“He’s going to be there when we wake, wife. Come back to bed.”

She turned to him and smiled, a warm smile that he wished he could brand into his mind for all eternity. “Did I wake you?”

“You did not. Your absence from our bed did.”

She chuckled softly, and he walked over to her. He positioned himself behind her chair and kissed her temple, letting his hands rest on her shoulders. “I don’t think I shall ever tire of looking at him,” She said.

“Hm.” His gaze rested on the sleeping babe, tired from all his crying throughout the day.

“My son, a dragon prince,” She mused. “He’ll be charming, strong and intelligent, just like his father.”

At that, he chuckled darkly and she rose, turning around to face him. Her hand found his cheek and he leaned into her touch, leaving a light kiss on her wrist as he held her hand in place. “What’s so amusing, husband?”

“Charming is not the first word anyone would use to describe me, wife.”

“Well, you are. To me.” Her whispering siren-like voice was like music to his ears.

She reached up on her toes and left a light kiss on his brow, and Aemond was quick to hold her to him by the waist, wanting to have this - this quiet solace - all to himself for a time.

Who was he to argue with the woman around whom his entire world revolved? The very one that held his heart in her hands?

He stands in the middle of what used to be their shared chambers and sighs.

The entire room is covered in pieces of her - fragments of her that he desperately clings to for dear life. Robes and dresses that she had not worn in a long time, but still manage to somehow retain her scent. Quills and ink that she used to write her correspondence with, now left to gather dust. Ten Thousand Ships, her favorite book, one that he had given to her as a name day present, laid abandoned on the bedside table.

This was the very same chamber where he had claimed her. This was where he had first admitted to loving her. This was where she had told him that she was with child. This was where they had spent countless nights talking well into the night, their bodies entwined and voices coming out in hushed whispers and low giggles. This was where they had discovered and learned of the passions of the marital bed, together. This was where their marriage had grown and bloomed.

If he walks a little further, his feet will take him to the adjoined room where his son used to sleep - but try as he might, he does not have the strength for that. Not yet.

He sits by the edge of their bed, the sunlight passing through the windows in streaks of yellow gold. He closes his good eye, hoping for a little time to adjust to the light. Perhaps if he closes it hard enough, he will be able to picture her sitting by the window with her focused eyes trained on her embroidery or one of his books, waiting for him to come back to her after his daily duties.

His nose flares at the unearthly reminder that his wife is no longer his by side. She had been full of happiness and life, and she had brought light into his life. He welcomed it for as long as she was around, but now that she was gone, he closes his eye and avoids it like the plague, much like he does with the sunlight that now warms his skin.

Her world has become dark because of him. How can he sit in the light in good conscience, when he knows he has lost all right to it?

The waves crashed by the shores of Blackwater Bay and she sat on the sands, watching them. She had a book in her hands, and a basket of food that she had the maids prepare for them to take.

Her eyes closely followed her husband as he held their baby son’s hands upright, his little pudgy feet resting over his huge boot-clad ones as he led them forward. The little boy’s gurgling and laughing echoed through the wind, and she took a bite of a juicy apple while holding a book in her other hand.

They were the picture of a happy family, the stories of whom may be immortalized in songs for years to come.

He had not yet begun to walk, and his words were all a blubbering mess - but Aemond Targaryen was not known for being patient. He insisted on guiding his son to his feet so his first steps would come to him quicker, and spoke to him in High Valyrian in hopes that his first words would be in his native tongue.

Her boys had walked all the way toward her with her baby’s toes pressing onto Aemond’s feet harshly. He picked him up and held him then, and his son’s hands landed on his eyepatch. It had become his favorite little plaything these days - the boy took to wrangling it off his father’s head and swinging it with his two fat fingers until he grew tired - that was if he did not notice the sapphire first. By the Gods, if he did, he would insist on taking that off to play with too. His son, like him, had a taste for the finer things in life, it would seem.

“He’s taken well to the waters, I think,” she said. Her fondness for the little lad and her husband was evident in her face as she watched them. Her son had taken to swinging his arms in all directions, occasionally hitting his father’s face.

“Water does not mix with fire and blood. He should not be taking so well to the waters.”

“Suppose he can embrace it all then. Perhaps he’s… special.” She rose to meet her son’s eyes, leaving a kiss on his cheek. The boy smiled, a handful of his father’s alabaster hair in his hands as he pulled. Aemond winced, and she giggled.

“Zaldrītsos…” Aemond murmured, a quiet plea to his son to stop. It fell on deaf ears, but he did not mind. [Little dragon]

A maid had come to inform them that their presence was requested in the keep, and Aemond handed the boy over to her before walking back to give his wife his hand. He pressed a kiss to her knuckles and rubbed her hand with his before leading them away, their steps slow and relaxed.

“We should have another,” she said. Her smile, the source of all his content, was as bright as the sun. “You should take me tonight,” she murmured then, eyes quickly blackened by lust. He watched as the girl with childish wonder transformed into a seductress, and he lost even before he tried - defeat had never felt sweeter.

He could never deny her anything she wanted.

“Do you want me, wife?” He muttered darkly as he halted his steps, turning towards her. He held her by the waist and kissed her brow, waiting for her to respond.

“I always want you,” she murmured, eyes fluttering at the closeness of his lips. Her bright eyes sought his lilac one as the sound of the waves rippled through the air. “I also want to bear you another child. Would you like that, husband? Another little babe for us to love…”

He nodded and kissed her, pouring all his passion into it as he devoured her lips. “You do look beautiful, belly round and full with my child.”

That night, he choked her name out like an urgent prayer while he spilled into her, his peak following soon after hers. He then peppered kisses across her face and neck as the smell of sweat and coupling engulfed them, while she held onto his hair and let her hand wander over it in a soothing manner. He rubbed a hand over her belly, praying that his seed had taken. If not, he would seek her out and touch her everywhere once more - he would never be tired of her.

If another child was what she desired, then she shall have it - for how could he ever deny her?

The burns and injuries had ruined any spirit Aegon may have had as King.

He had watched his brother as he grew into a fierce protector of his family soon after being crowned. Ser Criston had made clear the dangers that they posed to Rhaenyra with their very existence, and it was all Aegon needed to grow into his role as the rightful monarch. However, he had gotten ahead of himself and underestimated his skills as a dragonriding fighter and gotten himself hurt.

Aemond’s role as Prince Regent was something that he slid into seamlessly - he had always known that he was the better fit for the throne after all. His first action was to ensure the safety of his own wife, Helaena and her three children.

“They’ve been moved to our father’s old chambers. Deep in the Holdfast, far away from any possible intru-”

“I know where the chambers are, Aemond. Will you shut up? You’re giving me a headache.” Aegon interrupted, words slurred as he sipped on Arbor Red. The wine sloshed in the cup as it moved in his unsteady hands.

His eyes were trained on his brother, a tired and tested man who was now incharge of running a Kingdom. Aegon knew that the crown was heavy, but it did not compare to the weight of the world that Aemond always carried on his shoulders. It only seemed to have gotten worse since his son’s death and his wife’s isolation.

“Does she fare any better?”

“No.” It is all Aemond wishes to say on the matter.

While he may not want to speak of the family he had lost, Aemond knew that he would protect those he was left with every breath in his body if need be. He may not have been there for his little boy, but he would die before he let a hair on any of his remaining family members’ heads be touched. The regret of being an inadequate husband and father pricked at him like the heat from the bright blaze of the fire in the hearth, and he walked out with purpose.

He knew where he was going next. After all, his feet always carried him to her at nightfall.

When Aemond came home dripping wet from the rain that had drenched him at Storm’s End, he was convinced that he had ruined everything good that he had. He could not imagine a simple scratch on his little boy without feeling angered - how could he expect Rhaenyra to simply accept her son’s death?

He had to get them safe. He had to keep them safe. He had to keep them safe. Safe, safe, safe.

She had just left the babe with the nursemaid and come to their chambers to find a moment of quiet before her son’s inevitable crying began again. Her eyes widened when she opened the door to find her husband completely drenched, looking like he was inviting death with open arms. He may as well have.

“Aemond..” She rushed to him immediately, hands going to his damp hair and clothes. “Gods did it rain on your ride back home? Let me fetch you some clean clothes and something to dry yourself with.” He reached out to her before she could go too far, and she gasped at how cold his touch was.

It was always warm, and tonight it was not.

“Stay, please.”

“I need you to put on something warm first, Aemond. You’ll catch a chill.”

She was too distracted by his wet state to notice the tears mixed with the raindrops. He said nothing as she walked away and brought back fresh garb for him to change into. She quietly bade that he raise his arms and he obeyed, not having the strength to do anything else. Slowly, each garment fell with a wet thwack to the floor and she took to wiping all the water off of him.

His grave silence unnerved her immensely, and she knew something was wrong. She would wait for him to say it.

She dressed him in a linen undershirt and breeches and took him to his beloved chair by the fire, in hopes that it would warm him up and encourage him to tell her of what plagued him. He sat in silence for a long while as she sat cross-legged on the floor, her forehead leaning on one of his thighs while her finger drew mindless patterns on the other.

His hand always reached for her hair when they sat like this, but tonight, that was not the case. She looked up at him with inquiring eyes, and as he caught her vision with his one eye, he did not have the heart to tell her what he had done, but he had to.

“I killed Lucerys Velaryon.” His voice is hoarse and the words are choked out with difficulty, and while the weight of his actions hit him hard, it was harder to watch his sweet wife’s concerned face morph into something else entirely.

“What?”

“He was sent as an envoy. I only meant…” He gulped, and the tears fell freely once more.

She quickly lifted herself up and straddled him, holding his face in both her hands. Her fingers caught every tear that fell in quick succession. “Tell me, go on.”

“I only meant to scare him. I need you to believe me, I did not mean to kill him.”

Her husband was a proud man, and it made her stomach churn to see him sound so broken. She feared that she may not like what she was about to hear, but she had promised to be his other half for all his life, and now he needed her.

He may be fearsome, but he was not a cold-blooded murderer. He did not mean to kill him - but how much weight did his intent hold, now that the boy was dead?

“I believe you. Go on.”

“The dragons…” He let out a hoarse breath and she continued to wipe at his tears with the tips of her thumbs - softness that he right now felt very undeserving of. “Arrax breathed fire at Vhagar and she retaliated, she bit into the dragon’s neck and Luke fell, so did Arrax.”

She felt light headed with worry. How could she stomach the thought of a young boy falling to his death from the skies? How could she, when she was a mother to a little boy herself?

His uncle, Daemon, was going to come for them, Aemond was sure of that. But he could not bring himself to think of much else as he watched his wife digest all that he had told her, never once ceasing to remind him that she believed him, even if nobody else would.

When they rose, Aemond’s anger knew no bounds. The possible consequences ran through his mind as he pushed his desk onto the floor with brute force. The sharp edges of her vanity had drawn blood from the back of his hand as he moved in frustration, and she was quick to hold onto him and remind him of her presence. He was not alone, he had her.

“Take me. Take it out on me.” Aemond could not think straight, and she could not bear to see him hurt himself, any more than he already has. It is this very thought that drives her to take his hand and lay it upon her clothed chest.

He took her from behind that night, hands clutching onto her bouncing breasts. Every string that was stretched had snapped with each rough thrust into her, the sounds of skin slapping skin somehow seeming too rough that night. “We’re going to be fine, wife,” he groaned - and she did not know whom he was trying to placate - her, or himself?

“I will keep you safe, the both of you.”

When he was done with her, she was left looking ragged with dried tear tracks on her face. He wanted to apologize - it seemed as though he hurt everything he touched, and after his now dead Stong nephew, his own sweet wife was his latest victim.

She held him between her breasts that night as they both wept, at a loss for words at what he had done. She did not know how to comfort him or rid him of the guilt or paranoia that his mind now played host to.

What she did know is that her husband needed her, and that she was not going anywhere. So when he suggested sending her and their son away, fearing for her safety, she begged him to let her stand by his side.

“If something were to happen to me, there would be nobody to protect you and our boy.”

“If something were to happen to you, our son and I would much rather follow you than brave many years alone.”

He reluctantly gave in, thinking that an increased guard and his constant presence around them would be enough to keep them unharmed.

How wrong he was.

He had walked away only for a moment.

His wife had wanted to eat some cake during the night - he suspected that she was with child again. Little did he know that it was the last moment of their happy marriage. The sight that he had walked back into was something that would never fail to haunt him.

Dead guards, a whole litany of them. His wife in her bloodied white shift, holding onto their son’s decapitated body. All the light in her eyes had dimmed as he stood frozen in place, his eye widened at the harrowing sight before him.

She wailed as she clutched the corpse to her chest, with no care for the injuries on her own body, or the blood of their babe that was now mixed in with her own.

“My boy, my precious boy…”

The rest of the royal family soon followed and his mother pulled her away from the babe’s lifeless body. He fell to the floor with no one to hold him, and Aemond could do nothing but watch. Aegon’s angry calls for his nephew’s head to be brought back along with the killers slipped into one ear and slipped out the other, and he went numb as he realized that the consequences of his actions had caught up to him.

Him, he could understand. But his sweet wife, his little son? What had they done?

A son for a son.

The rational part of his mind would have argued that Luke’s death probably left Rhaenyra feeling the same tragedy that he was faced with - but he was anything but rational in that moment. His fists clenched as his knuckles met the wall, and Aegon had to physically restrain him from walking out to catch the rats himself.

“She needs you. She needs you. She needs you. Listen to me, Aemond!”

Helaena had collapsed onto the chair entirely, repeating ominous words that he did not register at all.

“Blood and Cheese. Blood and Cheese. Blood and Cheese.”

Aegon had gone to join in the hunt for his nephew’s killers, and she kept rocking herself back and forth at the sight of the blood that now painted the walls and floors of her brother’s chambers until she was led away. Aemond stood, all alone in a pool of his son’s and wife’s blood.

When the Silent Sisters were led into the chamber by his grandfather, Aemond froze. His wife had held their lifeless son to her breast as she cried, but he could not bring himself to look at him, much less touch him.

Hours later, with patches of his own son's blood soaked through his clothes, he had gone to see her. He held her in his arms as she sobbed through the night, trying to push him away with each firm hit to his chest. Aemond shushed her over and over to no avail, holding her closer each time she tried to separate herself from him. Sometime during that night, her eyes had become lifeless; a deep abyss. The sight of it finally drove him to tears too, with his good eye becoming a glistening violet ring floating in a sea of angry red.

They say madness is a slow disease, and that nobody truly knows when it begins. They were wrong. Aemond Targaryen knew very well the exact moment when the madness had sunk its claws into his wife.

It was right then as he held her, comforting her and apologizing like a madman for tainting her life with his presence.

The moonlight diverged through the stained glass windows that directly faced the room where she now resided. She had been kept in these chambers before their wedding, and she often spoke of how beautiful the lights were when they fell directly onto the corridors, reflecting the colors of the glass that they slid through. He wondered if she still thought the same. He wondered if she even looked.

In the day that followed their son’s death, they had burned their little boy and watched as his body was wheeled around the streets of King’s Landing for their benefit. Aemond had wanted to retch then, but he held his wife tight as the people empathized with the kind princess whose time as a doting mother had been brutally cut short.

She fared worse - she looked dead in her eyes, and he was sure she was lost on the inside too. He did not know if she even sensed his hold on her as she kept muttering their dead boy’s name in a series of weak whimpers.

Two days later, she had lost their second child. He held her from behind and rocked her gently as the blood flowed from between her thighs for hours, the babe coming out in clumps of bloodied skin, having never drawn breath. Every moment of his wife’s torture plagued Aemond’s existence, and he questioned his abilities as a protector while grieving his son and his unborn child all alone.

The Gods were cruel to him in their games. They made him watch as his son’s life was taken, and they took bits of his wife’s mind and soul with each passing day. He supposed that this was the hand that kinslayers were dealt.

It was a slow death for Aemond, and it had begun the day his son was killed. Now he had to watch as his once vivacious wife completely lost hold over all her senses, and lived in a world where he could not reach her.

On some days, she would receive him with love, as though his presence in her life had not destroyed her completely. He would be able to revel in her touch once more, if only to simply be able to remind himself that she was still alive - in body, if not soul. He missed her, his wife, his woman, his entire heart. But his actions had killed her from the inside - did he have a right to his yearning anymore? He did not want to know, for he feared that he may not like the answer.

On other days, she would be the complete embodiment of madness. She would fight the maesters and scream at them, begging for them to let her die and throw herself off the window. She would pull at her beautiful hair, blame him continuously and shriek, mourning the loss of their child.

When she was done, she'd lower her voice and murmur words into the air. Speaking to no one in particular, almost like a ghost, she'd fidget with her dress and say, "His body twitched after they hurt him. My baby boy suffered. Oh, my boy!"

He may not have wielded the knife that removed his head, but his actions caused it. He may as well have killed his son himself. Guilt was not an emotion that Aemond Targaryen knew well as a boy, but it was all he now knew as a grown man.

She would bawl and cry at him to go away. She would scream at him to leave her alone, and blame him for killing her children - and rightfully so. And though it pricked at his heart, he would come back every night.

He wonders how she is feeling tonight. He wishes she was ignorant and unaware, for he is desperate for her touch, her company. It has been weeks. He is brought back to reality when the Maester’s gown billows behind him in the night wind.

“Your Grace.” he bows.

“How is she?”

“Somewhat calmed tonight and not lucid, my prince.” The old man sighs before continuing. “The Princess continues to ask for her little prince. We have given her milk of the poppy, so she may fall asleep soon enough.”

“Hm.”

He is mildly relieved to hear that she is not herself tonight - for it allows him to relive some of their happier days.

In his hand is a book - Ten Thousand Ships, the very one that he had gifted her. He dismisses the maester and his stewards follow behind him. Aemond walks into the room with his mind steeled, ready to be brave - for himself and for her.

“Husband! Come, come!” Her cheery voice is not quite hers, and it unnerves Aemond - her words are not from her heart, and it takes everything in him to not fall to his knees and apologize once more for what he has done to her. “The Maester said our boy’s learning to walk! Did you see him? I was promised that you would bring him tonight! Where is he?”

Gone, where we cannot see him, he wants to say. But how could he, without wanting to throw himself at her feet in regret? “He is tired. All that walking has exhausted him.”

“I suppose, yes! They tried to force me to take that vile concoction once more tonight, I managed to push it away and evade them! Look!” His gaze follows her hand and sees the spilled milk of the poppy on the floor. His wife was a calm and steady woman, and now she was behaving like a child and mistreating maesters.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“You should not do that, wife. It is not proper.”

He holds her hand and kisses her knuckles, before leaning his head back to look at her. Her hair has not been combed today, and he gently turns her around to run his fingers through her hair, digits trembling at touching her once more. She could come to at any moment and remember who had caused her such distress, and then she would cry until he walked away - the very real possibility rakes at Aemond, so he remains prepared for her to push him away any time now.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

"I know. I drank it the second time. I'm sorry."

He then turns her back to face him and notices the dark rims around her empty eyes. He sighs and lets out a long, heavy breath. If he was drunk enough and she was unaware, he would fool himself into thinking that they were alright. But they aren’t.

“It is time to go to bed, wife. Will you come with me?” I love you, I miss you and I am sorry. Will you come back to me? Please?

He kisses both her eyelids and leads her to the bed in her shift. He gently helps her lay down, following her immediately as he lays next to her. She leans into his hold seamlessly and he tightens his arm around her - it hurts him how despite her madness, her penchant to seek out his touch never changes.

He takes the book from the bedside table, and she squeals. “Will you read to me tonight, husband? I do love it when you read to me. Perhaps a quiet moment between the both of us before the maids bring our son back? You know how he makes a fuss and refuses to give us a moment of quiet!” She laughs, and Aemond holds his tears back once more.

“Of course.” He kisses her temple.

He begins reading and the dry sounds of his throat lull her to sleep in his arms as he rakes his fingers through her hair. When she has completely drifted away from him, he allows himself a moment of thought and kisses her on the lips - watching as she murmurs his name.

He had taken her to wife, and sworn to protect her from any harm that may come her way. In the end, the only one she had to be protected from, was himself. He failed her, and now, he would not rest until he picked up all the pieces and put her back together.

When morning comes, she may still be unconscious of her surroundings and allow him some more time, or she may be lucid and scratch at his face until he leaves her alone. The uncertainty kills him, but he will allow himself to enjoy her tonight.

It was on this very day that he had kissed her for the first time, in the Sept, between the statues of the Mother and the Father. On this day, four years ago, they were married.

And on this day, he continues to read to her because she had asked, even when she had fallen asleep - for how could he ever deny her?

BONUS CHAPTER FOR THIS FIC, HERE.

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alwaysmoncheri · 2 months ago

Text

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐈 | 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

summary: you've always had a thing for JJ, but your relationship with Rafe has always been intense—heated and frustrating. The two of you are bound by similar trauma and can't deny that your hate for each other might not be hate after all.

cw: fem!reader, slightly bitchy!reader, pogue!reader, mentions of alcohol/bars, swearing, mean!rafe, jealousy, angst, steamy but no actual smut?, 1.8k

You have no business being here. You know it, your friends know it, and by the way everyone’s glaring, the Kooks definitely know it. But you would never pass up an opportunity for a distraction and an opportunity to make fun of the Kooks in their natural habitat. So here you are, clutching a glass of something that tastes way too expensive, surrounded by a crowd that’s trying too hard to look like they don’t care—including you.

The atmosphere buzzes with superficial chatter and hollow laughter that doesn’t quite reach anyone’s eyes. You step away from the bar, scanning the crowd for any one of your friends and with no luck you make your way back outside. You look around once more, ignoring the high-strung Kook princess glancing you up and down as they walk by. You don’t care, you don’t owe them anything—their approval means shit when all they do is flaunt daddy’s money in designer clothes and perfectly manicured nails.

You keep yourself composed, confident, your expression scaring away any extra company. The heat clings to your clothes, but you’re focused, scanning the crowd for your friends. You spot Kooks tangled in steamy make-outs and Pogues spilling drinks into the pool, when you finally push past the crowd, your heart drops. There was JJ with Kie sprawled across his lap on one of the chairs by the pool—giggling and drinks in hand. A pit forms in your stomach, and you almost lose your balance with your heel catching in the crack of the stone path beneath you. Taking the last swig of your drink, you set it down at the closest table, and turn back to the bar—but before you can take another step, John B, Sarah, and Pope approach you with a tray of shots.

“Y/n, where did you go?” John B chimes, throwing an arm over your shoulder, “Come do shots with us!”

You smile fakly, shaking off the pit in your stomach, “Fuck it!” you grab a shot from the tray in Pope’s hands and throw it back. The liquid burns pleasantly and you reach for another.

“Woah, slow down,” Pope half-laughs, pulling the tray away from you.

“What?” you ask, tilting your head to the side, “You act like I can’t handle it.” John B and Pope share a worried glance, their concern palpable, while Sarah offers a warm, encouraging smile before tugging you toward the dance floor.

As you step onto the floor, the beat of the music thrums in your chest and you sway your hips, feeling the rhythm. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and excitement, mixed with a hint of expensive drinks that waft from the nearby bar. The flashing lights above create a dizzying array of colors, casting playful shadows across your skin.

You spin with Sarah, your laughter mingling with the music, and for a moment, everything else fades away. The world becomes a blur of movement and sound, the bass thumping in your ears like a heartbeat. Amidst the chaos, you can’t help but glance up at the real reason you came to the party. When your eyes find his you grin, knowing he’s been staring at you for much longer.

Rafe Cameron. Fuck, he’s too hot for his own good.

You have a thing for JJ sure, but Rafe gets under your skin like no one else. You hate to admit it’s more exciting than frustrating. He’s leaning against the balcony railing, drink dangling lazily from his fingers. Muscles flexed in that tight polo shirt he’s always wearing. He doesn’t look away, and the scowl never leaves his face as his eyes trail up and down your body. You smirk, blow him a kiss, and watch as his jaw tenses. Fucking tease. He would say. His whole body shifts as he takes a sip of his drink. He’s just too easy, already worked up from a little kiss. He turns to walk back into the house, a silent invitation for you to meet him inside. You follow his movement, watching his shoulders taut through his shirt, heat trailing down your spine.

“I’m going to get another drink,” You quickly tell Sarah, and she nods, continuing to dance, before you peel away from her and into the house where you’re met with another crowd of people. Tannyhill is dark and rich, always taunting you with the wealth that hangs in the air. You hate that it makes you feel inferior like you’re a piece of trash that found its way out of the bin. Like you’re never chosen, like you’re always watching everyone you love choose someone else over you, every time. But you hide under your facade and make sure nobody sees through you. Maybe that’s what was so frustrating about Rafe, you were two similar, he knew who you really were, and he saw right through it.

“Didn’t realize this place was letting just anyone in tonight,” Rafe drawls from a spot against the wall, eyes sharp and locked on you.

You roll your eyes, “Didn’t realize you had a monopoly on all parties, Cameron.”

“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Pogues will do anything for free drinks, huh?”

“You cross your arms, stepping forward with a defiant glare. “Not every night revolves around getting wasted, Rafe.” you retort.

“Then what are you doing here?” He asks, his smirk widening like he knows something, “Trying to get wasted enough to forget your little crush is fucking your best friend?”

Bingo.

“Who cares if they’re fucking,” you shrug, ignoring his question, “It’s none of my business.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, the jealousy and frustration radiating off him as he crosses his arms, muscles taut, you can’t help but look, “You’re awfully good at pretending you don’t care when you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t keep looking over at me would you?”

Your cheeks flush, but you don’t look away, “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m only looking because you’re staring at me like a creep.”

He steps even closer, his lips to your ear, and you can hear his hot breath against your neck, “Maybe you like it,” he says, his tone dropping to a low murmur.

Maybe you do.

You scoff, but the quickening of your heartbeat against his chest betrays you—his condescending smirk widens, “In your dreams, Cameron.”

You’re stunned when he surges forward, connecting your lips into a harsh, heated kiss. One hand finds the back of your neck, entangled with your hair and the other finds your waist. You respond instinctively, your hand clutching the front of his shirt as you lean into it, feeling his grip tighten on your waist, staking his unspoken claim.

When you finally break apart, you let out a shaky breath, gaze darting to the crowd swirling around you. You’re dizzy, perhaps from all the booze you’ve had or more likely from the fact that Rafe just kissed you within a crowd of people, where anyone could’ve seen. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch your breath before taking your wrist firmly, his jaw set, and steering you through the crowd without a word.

“Rafe,” you hiss, attempting to pull your arm from his fingers which harshly dig into your skin, surely leaving red marks. You stumble behind him as he pushes open a door down the hall and pulls you into a dimly lit room before slamming it behind you. He runs a swift hand through his hair, pacing back and forth in a moment of panic—he’s shuttering and mumbling incoherently—you take a step toward him, “Jesus, can you chill out for a second?”

He turns and his eyes meet yours, possessive and distressed, like he’s done with waiting—it makes your pulse race. He takes a step, you blink, and he has you pressed back against the door, hands gripping your forearms firmly, “You drive me fucking crazy.”

His mouth crashes into yours and his hands find your waist quickly, bringing your hips to his. You kiss him back with the same amount of aggression, fighting each other with your stubbornness. You give in and sigh against his lips, you feel his smirk before he kisses you harder, like he’s making sure you don’t forget who you’re with. His hands are all over you, sliding up your sides, then into your hair as he tilts your head back to kiss you even harder. Despite the guilt, you can’t help but lean into it, he was addicting. Your hands roam his shoulders, feeling the tension and heat radiating from him.

“Rafe…” you whisper, barely able to focus as he tilts your head to the side, his mouth tracing along your neck. “Rafe, Rafe, wait. We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your fingers dance across the back of his neck, and the way you’re tugging him closer challenges your words, “Tell me to stop.” he says, his words a tease, knowing you can’t. When you respond with a scoff he chuckles against your neck before swiftly lifting you, moving across the room, and throwing you down onto his bed. He throws his shirt off before climbing on top of you. You unbutton your shorts and throw off your tank top before his lips capture yours. You slide your hands up his chest and around his shoulders as he tugs at your button lip. You arch your back, lifting your hips to grind against his. He lets out a desperate groan that sends heat to your pussy, soaking your panties.

“I’m going to ruin you,” Rafe says roughly, lust clouding his eyes, he grabs your hips pushing you up the bed but just then, you hear a buzz from your phone—a text. The small disruption pulls you back to reality, you pull back, pushing Rafe off of you, and scramble to find your phone in a pile of clothes only to see the name JJ lighting up your screen. The words, “Where’d you disappear to?” flash on your phone. A pang of guilt hits you before the bitterness sets in. Your friends don’t actually care where you are right now—they’re just curious to see if you’ve found another guy to spend the night with.

Rafe leans on his elbows, still lying on the bed, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips, “What’s wrong? JJ finally wants to fuck?”

“Don’t be a dick.” you hiss, “You don’t know anything.”

“Don’t I?” Rafe says, tilting his head condescendingly.

He did.

“Just shut up for once.” you say, pulling him onto you—he chuckles sliding down to kiss the inside of your thighs. You gasp when he flattens his tongue against your clothed pussy, making you buck your hips. He slips his hand in your panties, ripping them off in a single motion.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, sliding into you, “This’ll fuck him over.”

masterlist . rafe cameron masterlist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

#my works ──★ ˙🦋 ̟ !!#masterlist #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x you #rafe cameron scenarios #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron drabble

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angels-fantasy · 10 months ago

Text

Sweet Confessions

Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Description : After a night out with friends, Bakugou decides to tell you something while you two are eating sweet pastries.

Details : 1.8k words, friends to lovers, cussing, reader and bakugou are over 21! readers looks are not specified in any way, but she is a woman. small mention of alcohol.

this is my first fanfic ever, so please be kind! constructive criticism is welcome :)

When Bakugou received a text message from Kirishima inviting him out to eat with the bunch of other idiots, he immediately declined. Though this was nothing new, and it was something his red-haired friend was already expecting. Which is why he had Mina execute plan b.

Raccoon Eyes

Yo Bakugou! Come out with us tonight. You're always locked away in your apartment. Let loose a little!

Bakugou glared at his phone and typed out a message.

Hell no.

UGH BAKUGOU!! You're literally no fun. I can't believe you'd miss out on the opportunity to see this cutie -.-

A few seconds later, a picture was sent. When Bakugou opened it, he saw that it was a picture of you. He brought his phone closer to his face and looked it over carefully. He noticed you were dressed for the occasion, like everyone else in the background, and you were smiling widely at the camera. Mina probably told you to pose.

He must've been looking at your photo for too long because another text from Mina came in.

You drooling or what lover boy? Hurry up and get here so you can make a move already. We all know you like her 🙄.

Bakugou felt his face flush. It was true, he did have a crush on you. And though he never verbally admitted it to anyone, they all saw right through him. Except you, of course.

He clicked his tongue and typed up a quick response before beginning to get ready.

Shut up. I'll be there in 30.

"Woo! We got him!" Mina cheered, leaning across the table to high-five Kirishima.

You looked between them suspiciously, "What are you guys plotting?"

The pink woman had the audacity to look nervous. "Nothing! Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, okay."

As Mina and Kirishima kept whispering to each other, you squirmed in your seat. You knew the other pro heroes at the table fairly well, but not enough to just strike up a conversation like you would with Mina.

"Hey pretty, what do you look so nervous for?"

You turned to the left and were faced with a yellow haired man.

"Oh, hi Kaminari. I'm not nervous, just hungry. They're taking a little long to bring out the food. Don't you think?" You lied.

Thankfully he was kind of an airhead. "Oh yeah I know right! I'm starving. I'm gonna go ask how much longer!" He said and got up out of his seat, leaving you alone again.

You sighed and took a sip of your drink. Since Mina and Kirishima were too busy talking to each other, and you didn't want to bother talking to anyone else you decided to scroll mindlessly on your phone.

Some time later, the empty seat next to you was pulled out and sat in by Bakugou himself.

Your ears got hot at the sight of him. It wasn't the first time you'd met him, you two were good friends after all. But you never got used to how handsome he was. It was like he got better looking everyday. You began to wonder what he looks like under that button up-

"Hey nightlight, what're you staring at huh?" He asked, snapping you out of your trance.

"Shut up! I told you to stop calling me that." You said with false annoyance.

"It ain't my fault your quirk makes you a nightlight." He smirked. You scrunched your nose to hide your laugh, but unknowingly failed since Bakugou still saw it.

His nickname for you was completely harmless, and came from your quirk which allowed you to produce light from your hands. It wasn't anything comparable to a pro hero's quirk, but it did have its uses.

"Kacchan you made it!" Midoriya exclaimed with his big smile.

Bakugou clicked his tongue, "Shut it nerd, or else I'll leave. Give me a menu, yeah?"

Midoriya laughed off his words and passed him a menu, used to his harsh way of speaking.

Dinner went on without any problems, and the food was delicious. Everyone around the table cracked jokes, brought up old memories, and some people had even began drinking alcohol, including you.

Your drink wasn't very strong, but the few you had was enough to have you a little tipsy. Thankfully, you took an uber to the restaurant, so you didn't have to worry about driving.

During dinner, you and Bakugou engaged in a conversation. Mostly about his hero work and the villains he had caught recently.

Once everyone finally finished their food and drinks, they had all begun to leave. Slowly leaving one by one, some in pairs as well.

While you grabbed your stuff, you got on your phone to call for an uber but got interrupted by Bakugou talking to you.

"How you gettin' home nightlight? You better not even think about driving after drinking." He warned.

You brushed him off, "I'm taking an uber, don't worry!"

He grunted in agreement and was silent for a moment before saying, "I'll give you a ride home. C'mon."

"No it's okay! I can just take the uber home. Besides, didn't you drink too?"

"Hell no I didn't. It's not my thing. Just hurry up and accept my offer alright? This is the only time I'll be this nice."

You smiled at his words, knowing he was lying when he said this was the only time he'd be nice.

"Alright then, let's go!"

He smirked and held out a hand for you to hold, which you did while he walked you to his car. He made sure you didn't fall on the way there, and even opened the door for you.

"Wow what a gentleman you are. Do you open doors for all the ladies?" You teased.

"Nah, so consider it special treatment for you Nightlight."

You smiled shyly and wiggled your feet a bit after he shut your door and got into his own seat.

The ride to your house was quiet, except for the occasional small talk. But it wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. It was a comforting feeling for the both of you.

When he pulled up to your place, you turned to him to say goodbye, but instead you said "Um, do you wanna come inside with me? I have some pastries I made earlier..."

He laughed lightly at your words, "Sure, but be ready for me to critique the hell out of those pastries."

You led him inside where you both took off your shoes and coats. You ushered him to sit on the couch and relax while you went to go prepare some drinks and the pastries for the two of you.

While you were gone for a few minutes, Bakugou couldn't help but think about how he was actually inside your house. It wasn't the first time he'd been there, but it was the first time he'd been there alone. Just you and him.

In the midst of his thinking, he felt his phone buzz and he looked at it to see a message from Kirishima.

Shitty Hair

I see you left with your little nightlight ;) Better make a move while you have the chance!!

Bakugou huffed and sent a middle finger emoji, then silenced his phone. He didn't need any distractions.

Finally, you came from the kitchen with a tray in your hands and placed it on the coffee table.

"Here they are! My babies. I hope they're still good, considering they're not as fresh as they were this morning." You said nervously while sitting down next to him.

Bakugou hummed and grabbed a pastry, biting into it. You watched silently as he chewed and swallowed it, anticipating his reaction.

He bit it again, "S' good."

You smiled, "I'm glad you like it. That means a lot coming from you, Bakugou. Your cooking is so good!"

He turned away with a red face, "Of course it is. I'm the best at everything. And why don't you call me Katsuki? We've known each other for years now."

"Oh, I didn't realize you felt that way. Sorry Baku-erm, Katsuki. I just thought you didn't want anyone to call you that, especially since Kirishima doesn't even call you that..."

"Tsk, I feel a lot of ways. You just don't know about it."

Your interest peaked at his words. "Oh yeah? Then would you do the honors by telling me how you feel Katsuki?" You teased.

Bakugou felt himself hesitate before speaking, which is something he never did. Gosh, he couldn't believe this is how he was going to confess to you.

"I like you, idiot."

Your smile fell and your expression formed into one of pure confusion. "What?"

Damn. Maybe that wasn't the right move.

He began to panic and sat up quickly, "Ugh, nothing. Forget about it-"

"No! I'm not forgetting about that." You said while grabbing his hand, pulling him back down onto the couch.

As he sat down next to you in silence, you kept his hand in yours. "You like me Katsuki?"

He huffed and turned away. "So what if I do? It doesn't matter-"

You grew frustrated at his words. "Of course it matters! Stop acting like this is nothing. I need you to talk to me seriously, because I don't want to get my hopes up..."

He looked back at you, only to see your eyes watering. "Hey wait-don't cry. Shit. I'm real fuckin' bad at this, ain't I?"

You laughed and sniffled, "Yeah, a little."

He sighed and squeezed your hand that was holding his.

"I uh, I do really like you. I have for a while. I just didn't wanna fuck up what we already had-" He was cut off by you throwing your arms around his neck tightly.

"You big dummy. I can't believe you thought you'd mess things up."

His eyes widened in surprise, but he still wrapped his arms around your waist. He stayed quiet to listen to what you had to say.

"I actually like you too, y'know. I have for a while now."

He smirked and hugged you tighter. "Thank god. I was almost afraid you'd run out on me."

You snorted and pulled away slowly. "No way in hell would I do that. I just didn't know how to tell you..."

He threw an arm around you and said, "Well I'm glad ya did. 'Cause you're my girl now."

"Don't I get any say in this?" You asked jokingly.

"Nah, you agreed when you said you liked me back."

Extra:

That night, Katsuki decided to sleepover at your place since you two had already made it official. You lent him some mens pajamas you had since you were sure they'd fit him, which he fussed about because he assumed they belonged to another man.

"No Katsuki, these are actually mine believe it or not."

"Tsk, good. If I ever find any other loser's shit in here I'll blow it up."

#@angels fantasy #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #my hero academia #mha bakugou #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff #mha fluff

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